Othello Von Ryan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thepurpleone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2024-11-04 12:10 am
thepurpleone) wrote in revivalproject2024-11-04 12:10 am
I'm Not Crazy I'm Just a Little Unwell
WHO: Donnie and open!
WHERE: Mines
WHAT: He didn't get bit, what're you talking about...
WHEN: Just before and going into the second part of the storm
WARNINGS: N/A
All he wanted to do once they got deeper into the mines and away from the zombies who threatened to follow was to collapse and sleep. What he really would have liked to do was shower and try washing away the unpleasant memories of grasping, decaying fingers, drool and coagulating blood that seemed unavoidable when you were forced to directly engage with the undead.
Donnie barely remembers what happened once they'd gotten to safety. He'd been so exhausted that he's sure he did collapse, strained to his limits but refusing to give in without the assurance that his brother was safe and with him. He's not sure how long he'd been out or who might've moved him to somewhere that wasn't in the middle of everyone else's path, but the first thing he'd awoken to was a nagging pain in his leg. It had seemed like just a scratch, and with everything going on in their push through to the mines, Donnie couldn't have said when it had happened or how, but it didn't look like anything had bitten him. It didn't look great either, but so far as he could tell, it otherwise appeared to be nothing more than an untreated cut, and he made use of his first aid kit, cleaning it before applying the medical salve and bandaging it.
The sounds of the persistent zombies, or at least the sounds of those fending them off from getting further into the mines serves as a reminder that they aren't completely safe. He feels bad for not being over there to help, but he's still worn out, so he convinces himself that resting is the best thing he can do for now; recharge and jump back in when he's good and ready.
In the meantime he goes through the things he'd brought, taking inventory of his bag. Samples he's been studying. A box of random things he'd found in the beach caves. His first aid kit and some of his smaller science equipment and tools. His notebook detailing the Warrens from their previous time down in the depths.
In hindsight he wishes he'd packed some snacks, or had a thermos of coffee. Or brought an extra hoodie. He'd given Leo Tony's leather jacket as protection once he'd found his brother, and once they were in the mines and he was conscious, Donnie had peeled off his zombie gunked hoodie and had no wish to put it on again, not when the sleeves had been gnawed on. He kept Tony's armor bracers on however, although they don't do much for warmth, and at this moment Donnie's regretting not grabbing extra clothes, or maybe even a blanket, but he'd kind of been in a hurry.
He catches himself scratching at the bandages, pulling his hand away to instead tuck both beneath his armpits as he shivers. Had it been this cold in here the last time? That had been well over a year ago but it had also been summer, not to mention a volcano had been making things extra toasty...
The turtle jerks his head up. He'd been staring blearily at the wall across from him. What was he doing..? He looks at the scatter of things beside him. Oh. Maybe he should put those away.
Where's Leo?
He rubs at his eyes, slumping back against the wall. Maybe he should take off his battle shell. It's not the most comfortable to nap in, but then that'd mean exposing his shell to the cold. Except he's not really...cold? Donnie frowns, putting a hand to his head again. Something's...not right but he can't think of what right now. Maybe if he closes his eyes for a moment...
WHERE: Mines
WHAT: He didn't get bit, what're you talking about...
WHEN: Just before and going into the second part of the storm
WARNINGS: N/A
All he wanted to do once they got deeper into the mines and away from the zombies who threatened to follow was to collapse and sleep. What he really would have liked to do was shower and try washing away the unpleasant memories of grasping, decaying fingers, drool and coagulating blood that seemed unavoidable when you were forced to directly engage with the undead.
Donnie barely remembers what happened once they'd gotten to safety. He'd been so exhausted that he's sure he did collapse, strained to his limits but refusing to give in without the assurance that his brother was safe and with him. He's not sure how long he'd been out or who might've moved him to somewhere that wasn't in the middle of everyone else's path, but the first thing he'd awoken to was a nagging pain in his leg. It had seemed like just a scratch, and with everything going on in their push through to the mines, Donnie couldn't have said when it had happened or how, but it didn't look like anything had bitten him. It didn't look great either, but so far as he could tell, it otherwise appeared to be nothing more than an untreated cut, and he made use of his first aid kit, cleaning it before applying the medical salve and bandaging it.
The sounds of the persistent zombies, or at least the sounds of those fending them off from getting further into the mines serves as a reminder that they aren't completely safe. He feels bad for not being over there to help, but he's still worn out, so he convinces himself that resting is the best thing he can do for now; recharge and jump back in when he's good and ready.
In the meantime he goes through the things he'd brought, taking inventory of his bag. Samples he's been studying. A box of random things he'd found in the beach caves. His first aid kit and some of his smaller science equipment and tools. His notebook detailing the Warrens from their previous time down in the depths.
In hindsight he wishes he'd packed some snacks, or had a thermos of coffee. Or brought an extra hoodie. He'd given Leo Tony's leather jacket as protection once he'd found his brother, and once they were in the mines and he was conscious, Donnie had peeled off his zombie gunked hoodie and had no wish to put it on again, not when the sleeves had been gnawed on. He kept Tony's armor bracers on however, although they don't do much for warmth, and at this moment Donnie's regretting not grabbing extra clothes, or maybe even a blanket, but he'd kind of been in a hurry.
He catches himself scratching at the bandages, pulling his hand away to instead tuck both beneath his armpits as he shivers. Had it been this cold in here the last time? That had been well over a year ago but it had also been summer, not to mention a volcano had been making things extra toasty...
The turtle jerks his head up. He'd been staring blearily at the wall across from him. What was he doing..? He looks at the scatter of things beside him. Oh. Maybe he should put those away.
Where's Leo?
He rubs at his eyes, slumping back against the wall. Maybe he should take off his battle shell. It's not the most comfortable to nap in, but then that'd mean exposing his shell to the cold. Except he's not really...cold? Donnie frowns, putting a hand to his head again. Something's...not right but he can't think of what right now. Maybe if he closes his eyes for a moment...