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From Riley's standpoint, the leg did not look good. So of course, she easily lied. See, Malodore is going to set it, and then you will be on your way to getting better. It's good. You will be fine. I don't even see a drop of blood. This is a good sign. Now, hold my hand, and keep your eyes on me while Malodore sets it. Then we will take you to Cricket.

She bent her head to block the view of the leg, so Jericho was forced to look at her. Keep your eyes on me, all right Jericho? Remember how strong you are. And I am right here.

(( HIII INTERRUPTION Nio gave me permission to interrupt. C: DON'T MIND ME *ZOOM* ))

STAGE 1 GO!

Well, this was certainly awkward. Merope stared at the Terror Warrior course in front of her, fidgeting in place. She saw Jericho blaze through the first part of the course. The fall she missed; the bellow he gave out after? Loud and clear.

Merope could still see the group clustered around the fallen student. Would he be okay? Could they still run the course? The undead eyed the obstacle course suspiciously, wondering if it was safe to try it.

But... it looked like the group was off to one side. Surely it wouldn’t be too much of a bother if she tried stage one, would it? The course was tempting. If she could do it, then... then...

Merope took a deep breath, digging through her pockets for a hair tie, using it to bind her long hair back into a epony tail. It was a small thing that Merope couldn’t help but to partake pleasure in. Long hair was just so... so nice to run his fingers through, and even better to slowly brush. When you grew up without hair and discover in humanoid your hair was short, it was the small things that counted. He was going to miss his hair when he decided to go back to being a boil. If he decided to change back.

With her hair out of her way, Merope took another deep breath. She was wasting time now; there was nothing to do but charge forward and hope for the best.

The signal went off, and Merope nearly tripped and failed at the first obstacle. Quickly she recovered, taking a leap to cross the sextuple step. She didn’t have time to linger on the sensation of bounding from one ledge to the next, and all too quickly the step was over.

Merope landed on the ledge to the rolling log, nearly slipping and falling off until she managed to scramble back on. She shook herself off, staring at the log before latching on. Merope tug her claws into the log and wrapped her tail around it, hanging onto it for her dear unlife.

The log rolled to a stop, taking a moment to reorient herself. Next, next, next... What was next? Ah! Merope ran forward, taking a leap and entering the jumping skitter. She wiggled her way through that, clearing that with no problem.

All in all she was starting to get the hang of this. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Until the Blades of Death. The only way Merope made it past those was by leaning forward and managing to fall across it faster than the blades could knock her off.

And then the wall. The warped wall. Merope didn’t even notice the cluster of students that were around the fallen student as she ran up it, clambering over it and pulling herself onto the top.

The Tarzan Swing was next. Merope ignored the offered vines and took a flying leap, her claws digging into the final rope. She quickly scampered up it, and slapped the buzzer down. Boom! Stage one, complete!

Malodore had brought a sturdy metal rod from its supplies to use as a splint, and it picked the rod up again as it studied Jericho's leg. It would have to be very careful, very careful indeed... fortunately, the break looked clean, and it wouldn't be too much of a challenge to pull the bones back into place, leaving the fine work to Nurse Cricket and her bugs...

It was going to hurt, though. The plague doctor pulled rolls of thick, elastic bandages from its sleeves, then looked up at Jericho and nodded once. Then it moved, quickly but surely, shifting the leg and setting its beak against the feel of bone grating against bone. Gently straighten, then splint and bind... it knew the procedures. They were quite simple.

Yet, somehow, doing them on a friend was different.

Riley winced when the scream came. She could feel the emotion of pain, but not the pain herself - it was enough to know he suffered, however. She opened one eye, and saw the bite on his lips. She refused to let him suffer further, and quite forcefully pulled his teeth apart and dropped her arm right in his mouth.

If he needed to bite down, she wasn't going to let him do it on himself.

Just one more second and it's over, Jericho. Just one more second. You can make it.

With a mixture of pain and confusion, Jericho stared as Riley pried open his mouth.. only to stick her arm into it. What was she doing?! Though he tried not to, he couldn't help but bite down onto her. His golden eyes were wide open as he looked, somewhat horrified. It wasn't long before he could taste her blood too.



Once the splint was done, the pain was slowly melting away and the dragon began to relax once more. Opening his mouth a little more widely, he moved back to try and get her arm out, breathing heavily from what just occurred.

Looking over towards Mal, he nodded weakly and rested his head back down. He was feeling rather tired now, but he'd have to make sure to thank the Plague doctor more formally later on.

STAGE 1 GO!

Really. Why was he trying all of this on the second day he was in school? Was Amityville Academy really this active all the time, or was it just his luck? Mind you, Mortimer was fine with trying something out, even if it did cut into his comic reading time, but . . . that decision had been made before he actually came and saw the obstacle course itself.

Ooooooh Jack.

The course was clear for its next, ah, victim, and Mort felt a little stupid just standing there and watching. So it was with a deep breath and an inner cringe that the zombie began lumbering off into the awaiting challenge.

The jumping portion wasn't terribly difficult; slow-paced as he was, somehow Mort managed to get the momentum to keep himself from falling over - though he did feel a knee weaken when he leapt off the final platform. ouo;; And then . . . the log. The swooping feeling in his stomach almost made him consider giving up then, but before he could cogitate the orders to his legs, the log had slid down to the bottom and nearly projected him off.

So far so good.

Well, until he hit the jumping skitter. SO MUCH MOMENTUM sldfkhdskfhbasd. The boil almost lost an arm while passing through the two walls. And then, and then the spiked n' spinning bridge jackjackjackjackjack -

- Probably too much for him on the first go, unfortunately. Mortimer's adrenaline wasn't kicking in correctly by the time he hit the nine foot wall, and the most that he got was to face-slide down each attempt he gave at it.

Still, better to walk away in one piece than to be decapitated from the earlier parts. Even if it meant having a couple of bruises in places he didn't think could bruise.

((Fail))

STAGE 1 GO!

And then Israfel did a barrel roll. Through all the stages.
He might have vomited somewhere but that is okay. A little bile wasn't going to kill him.