trans_9 | Holes and Patches [OPEN FREE FOR ALL]

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Holes and Patches [OPEN FREE FOR ALL]

After the battle, the warriors' task was over. Their job, for now, was to rest and recover for the time being.

The healers' job, on the other hand, was far from over. Some exhausted from the battle, others rotating in, they took to their bay and continued the process of treating the wounded. Some patients were free to leave in a few minutes, while others would have some time (or quite some time) on the cots. Their mission: relax. Stay as still as possible.

Unfortunately, the temptation of so many familiar faces alive and about would ultimately prove to be too great. Keeping track of this group was going to be a third task all its own.

[this is a free for all for all your injured! Have them socialize, be thorns in the medics' side, try to escape, or bring the medics together for some action. Just note in your post if you'd like a medic to visit your character---if not, it's time for a chat!]

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Pain had quickly returned when the effects of Lash's power-up faded. The building wounds, burns and bruises and slices, had taken their toll. And sure enough, he followed the herd into the treatment center without complaint.

As one of the non life-threatening cases, he waited, but that was all right. This time could be well used to search for familiar faces.

The sounds of things being thrown about were heard from this specific side of the room and an obvious struggle was taking place.

"I said I'm fine, go take care of the rest! N-n-no I don't need a shot! I sai-- Owie!" After a few more moments of struggling there was a loud thud and silence.

Took a moment for her to be placed back onto the cot, not being a heavy girl to begin with, and then she was resting. The girl looked like she'd been through hell and back, but not because of any noticeable damage, but because the amount of bandaging that covered a good percentage of her body.

Thick, heavy bandaging covered her entire torso while all of her limbs were bandaged up and carried the heavy smells of ointments and medicine. Even her face was patched up and one eye was covered.

After a bit she woke and wondered if she should simply escape. She was feeling fine and they could be using this cot for others who need it. After all, with the excellent medical crew and her natural regeneration all she needed was rest... but she really didn't want another shot...

So with a heavy sigh the half orc girl simply lay there, crossing her arms and letting out a deep and long sigh. "This is dumb." she grumbled.

Soren looked even crankier than usual as he moved from cot to cot with his staves, bathing the injured one-by-one in the soft blue-white radiance of his restorative magic. Bones reknitted, lacerations healed, and best of all, it was all fairly mindless work for him.

Which was not to say he enjoyed it. Usually the clerics and priests handled the heavy-duty healing, leaving him to act more or less as he pleased; there were strategies to form and battle plans to be gone over, of course. But he did his best to keep from rolling his eyes in exasperation at the steady stream of patients.

He was not entirely successful.

It had taken several hours for Kang to be removed from the controlled-climate pod he'd been placed in; he'd needed to be warmed up gradually. Once he'd reached a point where he wasn't in danger anymore, he'd been moved to one of the beds so that his minor injuries could be treated. Besides the hypothermia, he hadn't gotten anything more serious than a few lacerations and bruises.

The bed itself was heated, and there was even a UV lamp directed at him. He woke up slowly, about an hour after the medics were done with him, feeling very foggy and lethargic. It took him several seconds to register where he was, and nearly two minutes to remember what had happened to land him in the med bay.

[Don't respond to this one!]

Edited 2011-08-29 04:09 (UTC)

Despite his efforts to get out of going, an exhausted and somewhat battered-looking Jamie still manages to wind up herded into Medbay with the other wounded crew. As tired as he is, though, he still manages to find the strength to protest about the situation.

"Look, I'm telling ye, I'm fine. I don't need to be examined for anything."

It's no good, however, and he finds himself directed into the area for those with non life-threatening injuries. The last place he wants to be is here. He'd much rather be looking for Victoria, or the Doctor, or making sure Lash is all right. But a quick glance over makes it obvious he's not going anywhere - at least for a little while. "No one ever believes me when I say I don't need to be looked at," he mutters before making a small, displeased sound in the back of his throat. "Fine, then, I will."

With ill-grace, he plunks himself down into one of the seats, hissing under his breath as he jars what is turning out to be a rather spectacular bruise on his backside. A few moments later, he sighs and looks around. "I wonder if anyone has any playing cards to pass the time with?"

Much as he would have liked to be his stubborn self and just walk out of the medical area, Shoutarou could not manage it. He'd spent way, way too much energy on attacks, especially that last kick on the general. Making it spin was a really, really bad idea in retrospect - if he had the energy to move much, his legs would protest quite painfully.

For now, he's sprawled out on a cot with his hat over his face. One arm draped over his chest, the other dangling off the cot.

Since River wouldn't allow the Doctor to take a quick sonic scan of her injuries, she'd been dropped off at the Medbay with mildly serious wounds. Internal bleeding from a wound on her side had been the most dangerous one. Other then that, all she had were a few cuts and bruises. A small price to pay for the hundreds of Ohms she had taken down.

It's not that River was a difficult patient, it's just that her medical records were sealed and she'd only really accept once person to tend to her. Rory.

It was boring, you know? Laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying that battle in her head over and over again. How close she'd come to death. Why that surge of TARDIS energy hadn't killed her? Then again, the Doctor had said she was the child of the TARDIS. Perhaps that meant something.

An extremely irritated wizard sat in a bunk off to the side; low-priority, no wounds, no evident problems.

But someone had foolishly tested the limits of the evacuation, and slightly overestimated his magic. His most powerful spells had made him practically invulnerable to anything...

Except radiation.

So here he was, dosed up on DTPA and Prussian Blue while waiting for his blood counts, and angry. Since no one had had the time to explain exactly what it is he had been subjected to that necessitated all this.

"Oi, oi - I told you I'm fine!" Hoshi said, pulling a pout. She was being dragged into the medbay by Shoutarou and it was very much so against her will. Seriously, what she had was something that could be fixed by kicking her feet up and sleeping it off.

"Really, they have much worse problems to take care of than little old me. I'd be occupying a bed that someone who's in much worse condition than me could be using, honestly!"

( OOC: Reserved just for Shoutarou using bendytime here. Will be making one general interaction thread after this! )

Edited 2011-08-29 19:12 (UTC)

Negi was still running on adrenaline, and he was chasing down people armed with Konoka's fans, both of them going overtime. While most wounds hadn't been inflicted within the last three minutes to completely heal, he was still armed with the biggest damn powerful healing fans ever.

The first thing she realized when she woke up is she had a bunch of papers on her body, along with a breathing apparatus. Charms? Magic spells? Whatever it was, some of them smelled pretty bad. Pfah! Natural medicine. No need for those when there could be science instead. With a slightly surprised grunt, she pushed some of them off and removed the plastic apparatus from her mouth coughing, taking in air, realizing that her breathing was muddled.

Oh. Maybe it had been there for a reason. Lash didn't remember anything, apart from when she pressed the button to eject herself. Everything after that was a blur, brought on probably from the massive headache, and the pieces of debris that had falling all over. Had Hoshi caught her? Had it worked in the first place?

She sad up and looked around, noticing the near sea of both the crew and some of the refuges. She bit down on her lip when she felt the immense pain that came from her left chest area. Judging from the amount of bandages and dried blood, she had probably a fractured bone or a lung that had been healed. Damn. How long had she been here? A day? Two days?

The headache was still hurting at every beat of her heart, but it was manageable. She'd had worse, considering. Then again, Lash had no idea how long she'd been asleep. She tested her hands then with a bit of dread, her feet...okay everything seemed to be working, even if she felt in immense pain. She let herself fall down to the bed again, pouting, wanting to cross her arms, but too painful to do it. Of course this was the perfect time for her to get the message from Leon that if she was fit, to come to the The Precinct.

Hmmm a meeting or staying here moping about her injuries and who hadn't come to visit her yet (not that she cared)? Easy enough decision.

"Hey! Someone mind removing all these tubes from me? I've got to go meet up with the rest of the Command Staff!" Before she ended up untying herself anyway. One of these methods would cause a lot less property damage. "Soon as the meeting's over, I'll come back here!"

[OOC - First part is open for medical, Lash will show back up later once the meeting is done and after she's done something else.]

Idling in the medbay was, more or less, the last thing that Tim wanted to do-- but while he'd rather be spending time to himself or working, he had to play it smart. It shouldn't have been anything serious, but he was hurting, and it was better to make sure that it wasn't a cause for concern than to risk infection or internal damages. He had a lot weighing on his mind, and he wanted out of there, to get to repairing his uniform and resupplying. But it was necessary.

Red Robin sat to the side, out of the way, cape and cowl covering him pretty thoroughly. He's still, not showing that there's pain in his chest and in his arm and shoulder, but it's obvious that he's been scraped up-- his cape and mask are both torn in spots, holes in the protective covering. A tear reveals more of the side of his face, bloody bruises along with it. For all intents and purposes, though, he got off lucky. And as much as he's eager to get out of there, he's not going to distract the staff, either, from their more important work. Besides, he did have a preference over treatment-- it was just harder to be picky about it in this situation.

((ooc: some of his files are locked due to privacy, but he can do general care from anyone. And, of course, any and all chitchat is welcome! (8 ))

Edited 2011-08-30 06:14 (UTC)

They'd tried to pull the curtain around him for privacy, given his state of shock, but he'd wanted to be able to see Kara.

Thus, Superboy sat in his Medbay bed, bandaged up and shirtless, sitting under a yellow sunlamp. The bruises on his face were nasty but already healing. His left arm, which had been in a sling before the fight, and lost that sling during it, was back in a sling again, since his arm actually hadn't finished healing up before the battle began.

He was staring at nothing--or rather, staring at nothing in between staring at the bed that had a curtain pulled respectfully around it because of the body that lay in that bed.

On his lap lay a red cape, that he clutched fitfully in his hand.

In his head, he was reliving the same moment over and over and over, trying to imagine what he'd say before he said it.

Lois, Ma, I'm so sorry...

He'd have to tell them someday. He couldn't stop thinking about how he'd have to tell them, and he knew that there was no good way to say it. Someday, he'd just have to tell them and watch the grief that came after.

Edited 2011-08-31 07:30 (UTC)

Peter, in attempting to make sure as many people as possible got the hell out of the Firebug's radius, had stuck around a little to long for him to be sure he was entirely safe form the effects of the radiation.

So, figuring it was better to be safe than sorry, he'd stuck around in the Medbay just to make sure he'd be okay.

The Master may be lying on one of these cots, true, but he isn't happy about it. Everything in his body posture screams tension, from the set jaw to the rapid tap of his fingers on the cot frame. He'd have left long ago, except that his body refuses to cooperate; each time he attempts to so much as sit up, the drums become unbearable and a dizzying wave of nausea overtakes him.

He supposes it may have something to do with his brain nearly being cooked in its skull. Should have had the Doctor plug that cable into Stacy. Shouldn't have listened to the Doctor in the first place, even. Should have stayed in the TARDIS and let the Ohm eat him.

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Billy | open

Ronnae 'Mash Belore Ryllos | Open~