revivalproject | Lady Healer in the Emergency

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Lady Healer in the Emergency

WHO: Tae Takemi, Anyone
WHERE: Hospital, Whale Comb Sent Her
WHAT: Siege on the Hospital, Emergency care
WHEN: October 11th, Rest of the event.
WARNINGS: mouth related body horror creatures, blood

I. A Hospital Under Siege CW: potential for mouth related body horror creatures, blood

Storms here were continuing to be, at best, annoying. There's no heart monitors, there's no lights, and there sure as hell are little fake images of her guinea pig or other people she knew from home. There had been enough forewarning to know not to trust people when the power went out, especially if they wouldn't come close enough to be touched.

So she focused on something else entirely, which was the whole weird noises in the distance. A threat, probably. And threats meant people could get hurt. Tae absolutely starts packing. The hospital was not centralized enough for this sort of bad effect.

Really, it was a mistake to be here. The screaming noises in the distance. And then the noise of something scratching against a distant door.

"That can't be good."

II. Here To Heal You CW: Potential for blood and injuries

Getting to the Center had been a whole process. Now here she was, moving around quickly as she went through the steps that would make this place better. Using some replicated chafing dish fuels she's got a kettle on to keep water warm for tea, another one to keep a pot of miso soup warm for people who need fluids, and she's already setting up blankets and other supplies to stretch people out.

And when she hears the door open she straightens and looks to it.

"Come in, please."

III. Wildcard
[OOC: Once comms are back up, Tae's happy to travel to help with emergency care. So if you want someone to deal with injuries and you can't get to the Whale Comb Sent Her, wildcard it!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm likely the one that has to nurse you when you get pneumonia, so yes, I feel like I should weigh in," she answers as she threads the needle. "Why would they think that you'd try and kill them?"

In her books he's all bark and absolutely no bite.

"Fires don't heat as efficiently and are their own risk."

"I'll be fine! Jesus, you sound like Harrington before the volcano!" Before tempers had boiled over and Billy had cracked the rift open instead of mending it like he had intended.

Blue eyes watch the thread work through the eye on the needle, then he looks away from her. The lollipop stick is getting torn by his teeth as he chews at it again. At least his leg isn't bouncing. "Because I did try. Or, it wasn't me. I was possessed, but no one noticed or any shit like that. Like they figured I wasn't above killing people so no one noticed that anything was wrong until its too late."

His good hand runs over his chest for a moment, feeling the scars underneath. "I'm not going back to living in the city. Fuck that and fuck this place."

Harrington? Who was that? He, unlike the others, had never been one of her patience. Time to start the stitches.

"Possession, huh? Well, that's hardly your fault then. In fact, it's their fault they didn't notice."

She has firm opinions on that, especially when she lacks context. And she doesn't believe any young person could do such a thing without far more evidence than she sees from him. Or far far less. He doesn't even seem to be part of a gang.

"Well, at least you're getting in your steps regularly I suppose."

Billy tense at the first sting of the needle and by now, the candy stick is just torn into wet mush. So another lollipop gets unwrapped to have the same fate started on it.

"Went out to the abandoned Steelworks building," he keeps going, even though he knows he's talking about shit she doesn't know anything about. "Was... was meeting someone out there. Vines snagged my ankles. There were rats. So many fucking rats. Dragged me into the building. No one knew I was out there. And then I just went to sleep. I'd wake up here and there, like in the cold shower at the pool, or where the kids trapped me in the sauna room. They figured it out. But it was too fucking late."

Talking about it helps keep his ire and mind off of her working at the stitches. Even if he is tense under her hands.

What the fuck? That's a mess.

"That's how you ended up how I first met you? Torn up? The rats?"

The poor kid.

"Kinda? Maybe?" He sounds so unsure. This isn't the same biting and seething teenager that she had been introduced to. "I made something. It was big. Huge. It's the thing inside those gates. Too many legs, no eyes."

He lets out a shaky breath. Then another. And another. Billy's tensing up again, feeling like he wants to run and scream until all he can do is hide again. Why did he start talking about this again?

Shit.

Fuck.

Um, what? How do you MAKE something like these monsters?

"Relax your arms a little. I'm trying to minimize scarring. You've had enough of those, clearly."

And she wishes, in this one instance, she had cigarettes to give him. Or weed.

Relax. He's gotta relax again. Fuck. God damn it. He's safe in here. Billy has an axe and knows how to use it against the monsters. He's okay. He's safe. Billy breathes in and out, trying to time them. In for three seconds, out for three.

In and out for five.

Then six.

Billy finally starts relaxing a little, bit by bit.

"How you found me when I arrived..." His voice sounds like he's trying to choke out the words as panic threatens him. "I don't survive it when I get back."

"I'm sorry," she says softly as she continues her work. The poor kid was living on a timer of no real length, and it's probably maddening. How do you move on?

Billy's starting to lose against the panic. His foot is starting to slow bounce again with his breathing picking up. The whale comb center in his perspective is dimming into that mall, flashes of light and the creature before him. Hands flex and the stick in his mouth snaps in half entirely before he has to spit it out. Choking is not the way he wants to go.

"Fuck, no—" The Californian starts shifting, trying to get up so he can run because it's out there. The free hand grabs the handle of his axe because he has to go out there, get back to the diner so he can get safe—

Alright then. With her hands full of needle and surgical clamp for the stitches process, she can't touch him to center him. The next best thing she can do is talk.

"Hey, kid. You and I? We need to have a serious conversation about your smoking habit," she says, putting annoyance into her voice. Not because she's particularly annoyed or wanting to have this conversation now. No, this kid just seems to be one who will immediately latch on to a criticizing female voice without hesitation.

"Have you even considered what you're doing to your teeth? There's a yellowing effect. How are you going to get the girls if your teeth are yellowed?"

The panic starts gnawing at him like one of those damn rats, vines tugging at his thoughts like that night where everything changed.

Then Tae's voice breaks through it, criticizing and sharp. It cuts through like a knife, slicing the metaphorical rats and vines. He's still bouncing his foot and breathing hard, but congratulations, Tae. You have his attention.

"What? Why?!" He frowns and focuses on this, the conversation. "I get girls all the time and my teeth are not fucking yellow. You wanna bring that shit up now? Right fucking now?!" That foot starts to slow in its bouncing, too.

There you are she thinks to herself when he frowns.

"Nicotine, whether inhaled or chewed, leads to a yellowing of the teeth. You can't avoid it," she says as she resumes the stitches. "I'm not a dentist but I am your physician so I do have to worry. And if the only way to get you to care about your lungs is to argue for white teeth and the importance of lungs in stamina in the bedroom, I'll use it."

Stick with her here, kid. She moves to speed up the stitches. It won't be as pretty or as perfect, but she needs him patched up before she loses him again.

"Who the fuck chews nicotine? People should just smoke it, don't be freaks and chew it," though that last part is muttered under his breath. "What else am I supposed to fucking do? I get fucking irritated unless I have one, or I chew at my fingers." Or if he gets anxious and wants a smoke, he'll scratch at his skin like it's burning to ash.

Her method is working.

"My teeth are fucking fine and they're white! Don't be a bitch and try to take this one thing from me!" There might've been a c-word muttered just as he presses his lips closed, too. Billy had backed off of how many he smoked because of the rations from the replicator. He used one to make a new tape, though that was all the way in the beach cabin right now. Useless.

"OW! What the hell where you're stabbing! I'm not even being a fucking dick, knock it off!"

"Chewing tobacco is less common but it's not uncommon," she rolls her eyes. But there he is. He's really focusing on her now.

"I'm giving you stitches," she says, her voice softer now. "You were panicking, and if you'd run like you looked like you were going to, we could have done more harm to you. So I am sorry. It was the quickest way to get you paying attention to me."

"I don't use chewing tobacco, stupid." He'd feel bad about this later because Billy came in intending to be civil at least. Doesn't know why Tae went out of her way to poke his buttons until she explains it.

That foot has stopped bouncing and Billy - with some difficulty - gets another lollipop unwrapped to pop in his mouth. Cherry flavored. The best. He relaxes back in the chair and tries to keep still.

"I was trying to say 'watch where you're stabbing'. I think. I was... I was gonna run. I did earlier. The moment I saw that thing in the gate. I didn't come here intending to be mean this time." Billy turns his head to look at her. He's still there, less panicked now as she works at the injury. "Trying to be better."

"I know you didn't," she says. "And I try not to be a bitch when I'm in the middle of tending to wounds. But you need a bitch to keep you in the moment, so I'm really talented in this moment. Multitasking. Bitch and stitch."

See, she can be almost amusing.

"You came in here with a weapon and bloody. I can tell you're doing your best to help."

Bitch and stitch. That gets a laugh from him. The laugh causes little smile crinkles at the corners of his eyes and he laughs at the absurdity of it all. The situation, being nice, it's all funny and stupid in the moment.

"I wasn't going to help at first. I was having a rough time in the alley next to the diner." Billy doesn't elaborate on that, and Tae can probably piece together how rough it was with how he almost fell back into panic sitting here. "Gladio's been training me - ah Christ this hurts - and helped me out. Gave me the axe. Pulled my shit together and went out to go fucking help."

At least he's laughing. She appreciates that. It's helping.

"You've clearly got trauma related to this. PTSD. There's nothing wrong with not acting in it. ONce we're done with the stitches, I'm giving you sedatives so you can sleep. You need it. I'm going to see about some anxiety medication soon as well."

It's one of those situations where everything feels so high-strung and ridiculous that it's the only response he can give. And it gives him something else to focus on that isn't the needle working in and out as she moves it.

"The fuck is PTSD? I'm fine," though he's clearly not, "I don't stupid medication for this shit. Just give me a cigarette and a beer, I'll be fine." That free hand goes to the lollipop, working at the stick between his teeth while his tongue works over the sweet part. "Shepherd mentioned something about exposure therapy. I'm not going to do therapy either."

Well, at least he's not panicking now since he's decided to be stubborn instead.

"Post-traumatic stress disorder," she answers. "And the state you were in when you arrived says you've been through serious trauma. Along with everything you've told me. You've encountered what a psychologist would call a 'trigger', which was why you were panicking and flipping out at me. So medication can help diminish some of the effects. Better than alcohol."

So yes, he needs the medicine. BUt she can't force him to take care of his mental health.

"STill giving you medicine. Your prescription."

Okay, acronym checks out. Billy still thinks he's fine. But her explanation - he's not fine. He's lived through a special kind of hell. Possession, murder, attempted murder, and nearly dying when he was dropped here. Now all these monsters were here, stirring up the memories that Billy wants nothing to do with at the moment.

He's not fine.

"You can give that shit to me, but I'm not taking it." Would it even help? It sounded fake. The sedatives to sleep sound the most intriguing because he's had problems with that since he figured out the gates were open. He looks down at her working. "You almost done here?"

"Alright then. But it would help with any issues you might have with sleep or anxiety," she says with a shrug.

"I need to do one last scratch. Sorry. I'm going as fast as I can."

Without hurting him more.

Billy falls quiet, thinking. He had some trouble sleeping when he got here, too. Expected after almost dying, so he had put up with the rough nights before Calibrations and volcanos and the other bullshit.

Stupid, stupid bullshit.

He shifts down, trying to make it just a little easier for her. The sooner she finishes, the better so he can get back to fighting the monsters or holing up in the diner again. The stitches hurt, but they don’t hurt as bad as the monsters claws running through his shoulder.

"…I guess you’re gonna tell me to go easy on lifting and shit now, too."

Edited (Caught a spelling error) 2023-10-30 12:45 (UTC)

"I am. Because if you rip out your stitches, you're not getting another lollipop while I replace them. I'll forbid Steve and Zelda from it too. I can't stop the puppy of course."

There was no telling Billy Kaplan what to do, and he'd just magic it.

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