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 Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 12:13 am
It took him a few delayed seconds to register the canteen and chocolate being offered, and then a few seconds longer to debate taking them (because he yet again found himself reaching with both hands to find that one WASN'T THERE), finally settling to take the chocolate first and set a couple of squares in his lap before grasping the water oh-so-carefully.
... Yeah, spilling it wouldn't have been a very good move, so he made a point to avoid that.
A few swallows of the stuff numbed his stomach over like a cold fist to the gut, but the feeling was brief, only lasting a minute or so, and he passed the canteen back so his hand would be free to chew on the chocolate. Sugar... wasn't the best source of energy out there, granted, but it was almost instant and it was still something to go on, which was better than his organs becoming cannibalistic.
"I'm... fine." Well, he wasn't quite fine exactly, but better, forcing a little nod. "I... I can walk." COUGHHACKWHEEZE. "... L-Let's go."
It might've been foolish to rush in one respect, but in another... who could blame him? He'd been sitting in a pool of his own congealed blood for more than a day straight, locked in a ship in the middle of nowhere with countless dead men who'd once been COMRADES. It... wasn't a place that really encouraged lingering very much.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 12:36 am
Solomon should have seen that answer coming, carefully, shifting and giving the kid a careful shove up to their feet before she followed suit of it, again eyeing the blood on her tail. It was with a half of a thought she went and picked up the gun, carefully putting it back in the holster on the boy's belt and patting it.
"Keep that." she advised, carefully picking up her jacket (nice and warm!) and putting it on over her pinstriped one, before picking up her bag.
Then making sure the kid was still up on his feet.
Well, he hadn't fallen over yet, so that was a good sign. Some fresh air would do him wonders and within a few hours they'd be at the encampment.. where they could clean him up a bit better, put some real food in him....
....
And Solomon could sleep. Because she HADN'T and was going on 20 hours being awake. Woo! Go caffiene in chocolate in this case.
With that little mental preparation made she made rather quick time to walk from that room to go out into the snow which... damn, she loved the color of snow in the early hours of night.
And she couldn't hear any wolves either.
"Still feeling up for walking?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 1:09 am
O shi-- he was getting prompted to his feet a little unexpectedly now, but... even if Everett's body wasn't feeling particularly cooperative, sheer stubborn will kept him upright, resting his remaining hand against the nearest wall to catch his breath and wait a few seconds until the room stopped spinning...
Yes, there. A little more stable. Still upright and still conscious... if not in a serious amount of discomfort (which he wasn't going to get out of anytime soon), face a little strained as he took a tentative step after her, then another and... ahaha, there, he could walk. Very lamely, but IT WAS PROGRESS.
"... I-I'm fine," he repeated stubbornly, almost persistently now, nodding stiffly in agreement (despite a little... sway here and there). "I'm... fine."
Yes, he'd keep telling himself that until he couldn't speak anymore if it meant just getting out of the ship, limping past the bodies and trying not to blanch at the sight of them. A few... he could still remember being half-alive yesterday, hearing them as they dropped like flies and...
No, he'd tune it out. He was the only one left, and there was someone to follow toward the slim chance of survival, which... was better than nothing.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 1:25 am
Solomon found herself standing out in the snow on her own for about a minute, taking a -nice- deep breathe of the fresh air and.. well, luckily wearing dark clothing so her white body didn't just melt away into the snow.
During this time she fished through her bag to produce her -own- map of the area, glancing at the marked lake to their west, then up towards the direction of that lake, before turning to facing the direction she and her little temporary ward would be walking in.
Once the boy made it outside, the sights of the chewed on bodies were probably three times worse, some half-dragged off by the animals, making her wish she'd been close enough to cover his eyes for him so he wouldn't have to see....
but it was a harsh reality, unfortunately.
"Still feeling up for it?" she asked again, pondering if the fresh air was doing him any good, though she doted on the thought for merely a moment before she again started to walk.
She had to go around the wreck to walk along the lake's edge and then south from there.
-Pleasant-.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 1:50 am
Still hobbling along with the precious blanket around his shoulders, Everett had managed to get himself over and through the virtual sea of bodies inside the cabin, more or less stoic (beyond the pain of just moving around) as he neared the door and took his first step into the snow...
But the sight of what rested beyond him now was almost too much. The snow had done an outstanding job of highlighting bloodied feeding grounds-- reddened pawprints and splattered fluids marking many of the bodies that he could still vaguely identify by name... if they could be identified at all.
... He thought he was getting ready to pass out again for a few seconds, but they realized that it was only his vision instead, clamping down on his bottom lip and blinking the tears back. s**t... men weren't supposed to cry at times like this, but...
But he wasn't a man; he was just a kid, and one who was scared shitless of the very thing he'd witnessed now, at that.
"I-I'm fine..." Again with the repetition, forcing himself to snap out of the daze and drag along on Solomon's heels again (if not with a bit of labored breathing since his lungs were aching like the rest of him and cold didn't help). "... Let's... just keep... going... yeah..."
Yes, she'd keep leading, and he'd keep pushing himself to follow. He could safely collapse until they'd reached some sort of civilization... which would hopefully come about soon enough, if they were lucky.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 11:48 am
She'd seen the look on his face and it brought a special sort of pain to her chest. Dammit, this was the longest she'd had to care for one patient and he was -getting- to her. That wasn't going to help her be very objective.
However, he seemed to be doing well enough to keep himself standing. That made it easier on her to keep walking (though she found herself constantly simplifying routes so he wouldn't have to drag himself up really steep surfaces), though she did find she'd slowed herself down a tad and was constantly checking over her shoulder.
Dammit! She needed to have more faith in the kid than she currently did. Maybe it was because all of that blood had worried her more than she would have liked to admit.
It was a moot point, though, as it was after several hours that her route finally let up at the far end of a group of tents, with several fires going that could be seen in the dark from about half-a-mile away with good visibility.
"Oi! Who goes there?"
It was a rough sounding, yet not menacing, voice, to which Solomon coughed lightly into her hand and found herself starting to force her 'masculine' tone once again:
"I'm Dr. Solomon Utinmakhir Van Der Flit the IX," oh god, long name, "I sent word ahead of time that I'd be coming to look at the men in your encampment? I've brought a young boy with me who was involved in a crash up the mountain and would like to further treat him here as well."
There was a pause in which the man let out an 'OH!' noise and quickly beckoned the pair through the encampment (Solomon earning a few racist leers from some of the Mench men, and then a cat-call from another. Dammit, she was trying to be a man and was pulling it off -rather- well, but there were always those who zoned in on how girly she looked) to a medium-sized tent off to one end.
"If you two will stay here, I'll alert the other that you're here. Make yourselves at home!"
Solomon smiled mutely.
"I appreciate it."
Well, it was a good size tent, had some very basic medical supplies to one end, which she added to when she set her bag down on the table she'd been supplied with and started to produce her canteen, three bars of chocolate, and more medical equipment.
"You can sit on that bed if you'd like." she offered.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 1:57 pm
... Hours? Had it really been that long since they'd left?
There was a point in the trip at which Everett just stopped his 'conscious' thinking altogether, too exhausted for wasting even the smallest scraps of energy on anything that WASN'T geared to keeping his feet moving. No, it was just easier to fall back on that 'Let's Follow' instinct which resided in most children, trailing after the one larger body who seemed to know where it was going like a little duckling lost by the water's edge, or a puppy trying to find its way home.
It wasn't an easy trip, and by all measures, the boy should have probably collapsed or died on his feet long ago, but he just kept walking, limping, dragging himself along without a word or a thought the whole time.
And besides, if he had tried to keep his mind active... well, considering the horrors he'd witnessed over the past couple of days, he probably would've broken down in a fit of hysterics-- which was a good reason just to avoid that mess altogether (for now).
But they had finally made it. The atmosphere had suddenly changed and once again he was vaguely recognizing things like sights and sounds and oh hey glowy things that meant fire, but still just kept his eyes fixated on the coat-back of his 'leading' party and nowhere else until they'd made it to...
A tent.
Was this the destination they'd been heading towards? A little tent and an... oh, hey, there was a... cot bed thing. That looked nice. And he thought he'd just heard the okay to sit, which... resulted in a half-controlled-but-not-really collapse on the little spot, all the toughness and endurance falling out of him in a few seconds.
Stubborn will could only last for so long with a failing body, after all.
But... at least this was a 'safe' place now, right? It was finally okay to give up and be tired now, wasn't it?
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 2:24 pm
Solomon had started busying herself with investigating the lodgings and what all she had at her disposal, finally finding that there was quite a bit for her to work with..
...... which only left her with again checking up on her 'pet' project, crouching down and again going back to her maternal instincts to smooth the hair out of his face with the same mute smilel she'd adopted for being the male Dr. Solomon.
After several seconds of this doting, she placed her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed them back in an attempt to make him lay back.
"Lay down, we're in better conditions now." she bid, before turning to go to her -favorite- luxury of this damned tent: The bin of warm water, taking one of her washrags from her bag to run it about in the tub in a swishing back-and-forth motion for several seconds.
Then she returned to the boy's side to use it to dab carefully over his forehead and neck, her purring having returned (though he might have only been barely able to hear it now). Once she'd 'thoroughly' cleaned up those areas, she folded it and laid it across his forehead.
"I'll be back in a bit, Everett." she said quietly, carefully repacking up the medical kit she kept in her bag then bustling out of their tent to go make a round about the camp to do her job......
Which upon her return a little more than an hour later she returned with a tray, which she carefully set on the table next to his cot.
"I picked up some things that'll be easy to keep down and give you some nutrition, so do try to eat, will you?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 2:55 pm
... And Everett wasn't about to fight such a pleasant concept as 'laying down', too weak to fight the pressure on his shoulders even if he'd wanted to. Which he really didn't. Because it just seemed like such a nice idea to sprawl back and not worry about supporting himself anymore like he'd been doing for the past however many hours.
'Better conditions' sounded nice too, particularly since it meant heated water and a little shelter from the elements. Mmm, it felt nice to have to dried blood cleaned off of his face too, having almost forgotten it was there to start with until she'd removed it. Hell... his clothes were still covered in it, weren't they?
But oh well, most of that had dried anyway and... he couldn't have cared less for appearances right now anyway. Even a fresh change of clothing wasn't going to change the fact that he was a half-dead pirate kid with a bloody stump for an arm........ which was still also hurting like hell and he vaguely dreaded getting 'treated' properly, since it'd probably have to be 'closed' at some point instead of just left in that pressure-bandage and tourniquet patch job.
.... Urgh.
Once Solomon had left, though, he stopped thinking altogether and just quietly passed out for the better part of the hour, getting some of the hacking and wheezing out of his system and wondering if he'd ever be able to stand again (his legs felt like jello... that had been set on FIRE) before 'dozing' off.
He didn't stir immediately when she returned, either, but took a minute (or three or four) to wake himself up sufficiently, mumbling a little before he was coherent.
"... Huh?"
O... kay, maybe not THAT coherent just yet, but getting there.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 3:11 pm
"Food." she repeated as she could tell that apparently he'd missed it the first time she said it, smiling lightly. She'd also been considerate enough to already have 'two hand' things broken up in a way he could eat them with his one arm.
Which, on the note of, had become her subject of focus.
I need to take off those bandages, probably cut off dead tissue that's going into necrosis, and then stitch up his flesh so it'll heal over with no problems...
She then looked to Everett, smoothing a hand over his forehead. She'd need to clean him up after that. Find him a fresh shirt and pants, clean up the ones he was wearing... Oh, he definately had some work to be done for him. She -really- needed to pick herself up a nurse to help her out with some of this stuff.
"Eat a bit, don't force too much, and then later...." she paused and ran a hand gingerly over the shoulder of the severed limb. Yeah, later she'd fix that up. Hopefully with as little 'cutting off' of any flesh as possible.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 4:03 pm
... Oh. OH. Right, food. Now THAT was enough to get his attention, pushing himself upright (... which, once again, he found to be a unique new challenge with just one hand) to give the tray a foggy eyed once-over before reaching for it. Most of the stuff on the plate was already more or less dissected, and after it had been placed in his lap, he picked up the slightly tine-bent fork to stab a piece of the bland looking... whatever it was to try a bite.
Either he'd been right-handed to start with or ambidextrous, because, faulty 'strength' aside (which was all blood loss and not his fault) he didn't seem to have much trouble with more finite tasks like silverware.
....... Not that he'd actually USED the stuff in a damn long while, since the pirate lifestyle didn't exactly cater to much in the way of 'refined' habits.
And as a pirate he probably should've been less pleasant about being so doted over, what with the purring and hugging and forehead stroking, but... really, since that initial shrieking tirade on the ship with the shots fired, he hadn't appeared belligerent or surly in the slightest. Hell, he was actually pretty compliant... especially considering that he'd become the pet project of a Koshka doctor and everything.
Although that hand on his shoulder did stop him for a moment, actually cringing a little-- and no from the pain. Even in his torpor, he knew what that gesture meant and... the thought wasn't nice at all.
But he made himself stab another piece of food with his fork (some odd biscuit thing), and force it down anyway.
"... I... It's gonna hurt... pretty bad, huh?..."
Hell, he should've been USED to it by now, with all of his terrible luck... but nothing could be as bad as getting a limb hacked off completely via a giant SWORD, right?... This would be a walk in the park by comparison!, right?...
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 4:50 pm
"..... I honestly won't be able to tell you how it'll feel. I'm not the kind of doctor who will warn you about it. I've never lost any limbs, so I have no comparison. You're a strong boy, so you should handle it fine, though. It'll depend entirely on how bad it is."
While it was a partially fail attempt on her to be reassuring of how her treatment of his arm would go, it was her 'bedside manner' for him, out of respect. Frankly, she couldn't tell him how it'd feel when she was sporting all four... -FIVE- limbs if you counted the tail.
But she left it at that with a ruffle to his hair before she got up, stretching her arms high above her head and cracking her spine backwards in a sort of re-verse kitty 'arching' of the back, before she went on to her next task.
Assembling her 'Operation table' with simple things. Disinfectant, she didn't have scalpal so she'd borrowed a sharp knife she went about sterilizing with another one of her washrags, the bin of water, and some fire, as well as some surgical thread.
"When you're older and have grown into your body, you'll be able to get a prosthetic for that arm. Right now you're in a period where you'll grow like a weed so getting one would be expensive as you'd keep needing to upgrade it...."
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 9:49 am
"..." And of course Everett was going to do his damnedest to live up to that 'strong boy' assumption that Solomon had been kind enough to flatter him with (sort of), but being privy to observe her in the 'preparation' process around the tent, picking out thread, washing and burning a knife which would've been better cutting meat than--
..... Oh wait, his arm was pretty much a chunk of butchered meat now, wasn't it? Maybe the choice was appropriate then.
Either way though, it had the magical effect and oh-so-potent effect of destroying ANY appetite he might've had, setting the sparsely-picked-at plate aside and laying down again to try and appease the sudden nausea in his stomach.
No, it couldn't be that bad, right? If he'd lived through getting the stupid arm removed in the first place in a fight, than a little... therapeutic medical cleanup afterward couldn't be HALF as bad. Yes, that was good to keep telling himself-- that, and the whole 'real men didn't cry or get scared easily' thing... which was a lie because he was a damn KID, but eh.
"... Doesn't matter, I... guess," he more or less forced himself to respond, though his eyes were on the canvas ceiling. "... It's... fine, e-either way..."
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 11:34 am
A frown. It was probably one of the first times she actually -frowned- at the boy instead of one of her muter alternatives at his 'it's fine either way' comment.
"It's -not- fine either way. It's not fine at all." she replied, then sighed a bit, tapping her finger on the edge of her table of 'yay surgical stuff!' with that same look on her face. It seemed rather.. distressed about the situation. "You're really taking this better than any other person I've seen. I've seen full grown men hissing in pain and horror and 'Oh get that Koshka b*****d away from me, he's not touching me' at the idea of me 'fixing up' their arm for good."
Another tap or six.
"Though the 'Don't let that Koshka b*****d touch me' is common in everything else too." she added on thoughtfully, before she sighed yet again, returning to the tub to get another washrag. She then came back to the boy's side and sat, taking his arm (well above the severed end) and starting to carefully unwrap it.
"Well, let's see how bad it really is."
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 12:21 pm
"...I've seen full grown men hissing in pain and horror and 'Oh get that Koshka b*****d away from me..."
........... Koshka ******** Koshka bastards!"
"..." There was a wince from the boy right then, though just what had caused it would remain unspoken, blaming it on the rather unfortunate PAIN of having his ex-limb handled, but... knowing in the pit of his stomach that it was all guilt instead. He wanted to speak up, but couldn't, and it was nothing short of sickening.
He'd done it too at first, and suddenly caught at the mercy of his former 'enemy' (granted a mindless generalization for hundreds of thousands in a species) who was showing him more kindness and mercy than he could remember since... before 'that time', well... he really didn't know how to feel. It was confusing and disorienting and EXTREMELY uncomfortable--
Or maybe that last part was because his poor stump was being exposed now, giving an actual PAIN shudder when the bandages were peeled off (he still had a lot more sensation than he wanted in it) to reveal a... surprisingly clean cut. It looked as if the offender (Yossarian sneezed that moment in Salig) had managed to lop the limb off in one clean stroke, which left very little tissue hanging and the bone cut off flat, rather than splintered or jagged. There was a pretty vile amount of dried and clotted blood, sure, but... as far as accidental amputations went, it could've been much, much worse.
Not that Everett could really appreciate that fact at the moment, but... eh. Small blessings.
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