Steve Burnside (
craaazyisland) wrote in
trans_92009-11-10 09:19 pm
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I've got a disease, deep inside me [totally open]
[ooc: Rather than spam the boards with posts for my characters, this thread takes place a few days after everything quiets down in the medbay. If your character wants to speak to either Luis or Steve, this is the place. I won't have the two of them respond to each other (I'm not quite that tasteless), so let me know who you've come a-callin' for. Alternate thread title: I Can't Believe It's Not Muncest.]
In an isolated bed near the back of the medbay, a teenage boy lay restrained. Anyone who'd caught a glimpse of Steve on the day of the incident would have said he looked much better, but he still looked like hell-- bloodless, clammy skin misted with a thin sheen of sweat, veins standing out dark and purple, a facial expression that read he had been sleeping for quite a while and could stand to sleep for quite a while longer. His right shoulder was tightly bandaged, as was his left hand, and a loose bandage had been wrapped around his head to cover his left eye. His hands were still strapped down to the bed and an IV was feeding into his arm, but it looked like the energy and the color were slowly returning to the skinny redhead.
Now if only it wasn't so goddamn boring in here.
There wasn't even the comfort of constant conversation. Dr. Sera kept busy looking out for the injured all over the medbay, and didn't seem much for talk anyway. Any time he didn't spend hunched over the laboratory equipment in the back of the room he spent sort of muttering to himself, staring at charts, or making thinly veiled passes at the female visitors to the medbay. He did have the decency not to hit on the injured.
Still, his brain was fully entrenched in Science Mode and anybody who needed to speak to him would need to flag him down.
In an isolated bed near the back of the medbay, a teenage boy lay restrained. Anyone who'd caught a glimpse of Steve on the day of the incident would have said he looked much better, but he still looked like hell-- bloodless, clammy skin misted with a thin sheen of sweat, veins standing out dark and purple, a facial expression that read he had been sleeping for quite a while and could stand to sleep for quite a while longer. His right shoulder was tightly bandaged, as was his left hand, and a loose bandage had been wrapped around his head to cover his left eye. His hands were still strapped down to the bed and an IV was feeding into his arm, but it looked like the energy and the color were slowly returning to the skinny redhead.
Now if only it wasn't so goddamn boring in here.
There wasn't even the comfort of constant conversation. Dr. Sera kept busy looking out for the injured all over the medbay, and didn't seem much for talk anyway. Any time he didn't spend hunched over the laboratory equipment in the back of the room he spent sort of muttering to himself, staring at charts, or making thinly veiled passes at the female visitors to the medbay. He did have the decency not to hit on the injured.
Still, his brain was fully entrenched in Science Mode and anybody who needed to speak to him would need to flag him down.
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He was actually trying a little too hard not to let the compliments and the full point of what he did go to his head. It was kind of nice when it got close to going there. It felt good to do something right for once.
"Thanks," he said again, still embarrassed.
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"Maybe we can find something for you to do. Maybe there's a form of a tv we can bring down for you to watch. I imagine staring at the ceiling isn't the most exciting thing to do."
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"Do they really have something like that here?" he asked. Hell, he'd settle for curling up one knee and watching fuzz on a pocket TV/radio or something crappy like that, as long as it wasn't the ceiling. Most of the sleeping he'd done here was out of a lack of anything else better to do. "That'd be awesome."
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