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 Posted: Sun Jul 27, 2008 11:36 am
Urk!
The swordsman winced again, being countered by Ryu's response. "Advantage, no advantage...the lack of treatment, the treatment..."
He laid back, giving a sigh, clenching his left hand from time to time to slowly get some partial senses back into the paralyzed nerves. "It's all about improvising on the spot."
With it, he raised his other hand - the crushed arm of his - and moved it as if nothing had happened. Of course, the water that's covering his right side masked the burning pain within the flesh while it revealed how he's doing it - similar to strings on a puppet's arm.
He listened to Ryu talk about his weapons.
"If you do get some gear or weapon similar to mine, two advices; be very cautious during...'release'. The last thing you need is your gears exploding because of overconfidence. And finally...
Stamina. Lot's of it."
As for the rest, he just simply smiled before motioning to Ryu for a sec. "Mind calling the doctor here? I'm guessing that they prefer to pay attention to someone who is more....neat, or rich in appearance."
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Posted: Sun Jul 27, 2008 11:52 am
Which wasn't really true because the doctors were currently treatining Akechi, (he hadn't healed completely from his other fight and now he had a new set of injuries), and he was swearin' up a storm.
"-cking white metas. Who the ********' hell taught you how to heal an arm? Damn retard can't even fix a ********' papercut! Go ********' learn from a proper doctor you ugly sack of magical sh-"
Yeah.
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Posted: Sun Jul 27, 2008 12:14 pm
Whoa.
He glanced over at the swearing b*****d, just two or three beds away from him while the s**t echoed in the infirmary, all the doctors and nurses working on the guy from head to toe.
Makes the swordsman kind of wonder if he should cause some chaos here just to get him higher on the priority list of healing.
After all, he did wait with patience for an exceedingly long time...days actually.
A bit of mayhem shouldn't hurt if things still looked sour for the swordsman.
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 3:23 am
An hour after the match ---
Breathing heavily, the swordsman was hurled into the infirmary with rapid haste, both hands bloody and the blades covered with his own blood that escaped from his old injuries. Scorch marks covered the parts where he was burned by that musicians' heat, his cloak tattered and strewn to one side as 'doctors' - at least those that were assigned to take note of his medical attention - administered remedies such as sewing and bandages, assuming that the wounds would just close over by themselves in a few minutes.
What amateurs. It took nearly three tries for them to remove the swordsman's bracers, the frigid frost locking up the gear tightly, and quite a few hours before a passing doctor with acceptable experience realized what the assistants and nurses were doing wrong with the swordsman's injuries --
And came over to quickly set things straight in a simple move --
By ferrying the swordsman to another part of the infirmary where they can worry about him later. As a result, through spasms of pains and growing rage, by the time the swordsman was treated properly for his wounds he was lying in bed, parts of his arms ridden with frostbites and burn marks while the injuries were not disinfected, caked blood covering the areas of his back and skin that made moving just intolerable to his senses. It would be for some time until he had multiple areas of his body bandaged, stitched and covered with packaged ice to counteract the burning senses on his damaged nerves.
Wet, red hair plastered over his grimaced face, the breaths still ragged and hurt while the sounds of talking drew to a standstill around him by then, the staffs tending to other people that were in need of....'medical' attention.
"Next time..." He muttered, "I'll turn them all into popsticle sticks..."
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 1:11 pm
Saphen on the other hand was screaming with fury at the doctors who just would not listen to him. "Forget the burns for two minutes and someone bring me my damn mandolin case!" But it was no use...medical staff did not understand the importance of attending to his most precious possession and continued to bandage cuts, rub ointments on burns, and check his temperature...which if anyone had experience they would know it was 3 degrees above angry.
Saphen sighed and let them attend to him his armor much easier to remove by using simple buckles though it lined his body with burn marks.
More bandages...
More ointments....
They tried to remove his mask and as if he wasn't hurt at all he slapped one of their hands.
"Instrument...NOW!"
The doctor ran off quickly picking up his case as another wrapped his left arm in a sling. The mandolin case was gently...very gently set on his lap and he used his window side bed to sit up automatically.
Saphen opened the case and with a happy sigh looked over his instrument. Removing the damaged strings he pulled out a new set taking meticulous care to lace and tune each one to perfection. Turning to his side to see Snow he could only laugh.
"You are lucky it was about time to change them or I might be mad," he was joking of course and his laughter confirmed it.
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Posted: Sat Aug 09, 2008 6:44 am
Admist the painful recovery, the swordsman turned his head to look at --
Oh, great.
Sighing, he looked up at the ceiling with a growl before responding to the bards' joke.
"Don't worry - the next time I do that again, I'll make sure to break the instrument as well in the process." It was a joke of course, but with the pain of his old injuries it sounded more like ironic sarcasm.
Well, he couldn't say anything about that, since he did get himself banged up pretty bad.
"So you're a bard, eh? How long?" He questioned, trying to change the topic before his foul mood started to surface over the grunts and bleeding bandages.
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Posted: Sat Aug 09, 2008 7:13 pm
"Since I was a pup really," he replied smiling at old memories unlike the swordsman he was an optimist in the truest form with no malice at his new found friend...he hoped.
"Everyone was playing with wooden swords but my father was an instrument maker and well...fate has it's way of bringing you about."
Saphen using his one hand to flip his armor plate over to see the solid dent made by the man's weapon, the other side was caked with blood from the armor cutting into him.
"If I didn't know any better...I would say that you were trying to stab me!" he laughed cringing in pain between the laughs as he held his side.
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Posted: Sat Aug 09, 2008 10:12 pm
"Fate, eh...?"
He paused, a bile of disgust at hearing the word fate. The irritation quickly faded, and the swordsman kept his composure as unpleasant memories surfaced within the reccess of his mind.
To hell with the so-called fate.
"Hm." He scoffed, flexing his muscles a bit to - in a way, get his body to get used to the pain before responding back to the bard. "Actually, I had a more sinister scheme in mind right after the stab attempt. Too bad it didn't get that far, or else you might've not liked what would have happened by then."
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Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2008 1:29 am
Saphen's eyebrow raised at his reaction to the word it self. Deciding it best to move around that subject he considered the man's next statement.
"You are more of a William Henley kind of guy it seems. I very much agree with that type of thinking and if you ever happen to read the poem Invictus you will see what I mean."
After considering the stabby like pain that he could have inflicted he smiled "Well the human body is a very large mass of water so I have a feeling it would have something to do with that."
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Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2008 2:08 am
"Never read it - didn't care much for poetry in the beginning anyways." He commented back. "And close with the idea, but it would've been illegal in a tournament such as this. Especially if I froze the supply within the body. Perhaps later, when I have recovered more, I might show you first hand what it truly does to ones body."
"But for now...rest is a good idea."
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Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2008 3:00 am
Saphen laughed...loudly....too loudly. The laughter was free and wild in an almost sadistic manner but it was more of sheer amusement...like a joke that went beyond the normal brink of humor.
"Oh I see," Saphen replied simply as he tunned his last string, strumming it again and again in the single deep tone. "One of these days I will write a song about such a death..." That was his only reply as he leaned back in his bed considering the man's words with more care and caution than most would.
"But I agree...it is time for rest."
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Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 10:58 pm
 "I don't do what I do because I want recognition-"She was so damned angry. And at the same time-she recognized she was being positively ridiculous.
But for ******** SAKE-muttering darkly to herself in Courtelli, Arian sat on the edge of a chair, a nervous healer taking care of the laceration across her forehead, doing their best to ignore the melodious words the foreign fighter was uttering.
It didn't help Arian was twirling a small knife in her dexterious fingers absently. She wasn't angry at her OPPONENT, per say-but just angry in general.
It was a common feeling. One Arian sated her blood lust with, for now. "I do what I do because they've been wronged, and I want to make it right."
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Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 5:18 am
After his double knock out match, Bishop appeared in the infirmary to get a speed job on his ankle, sure he could heal faster than the average human, but he wasn't sure of how long until his next match, if he won the first round that is. With a sigh, Bishop allowed the 'doctors' to do their job.
"You guys ain't half of what my personal doctor is, nor do you have adequate resources, but it'll have to do."
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Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 2:07 pm
"Its about god damn time."
Bishop was finally finished with his patch up job for his ankle, good as new, but he still thinks his doc would've done better. He would then high tail it to the hotel. He had to go there and check in, since he hadn't been there yet, and more importantly, he had to see if he won his match against his brother.
"Wonder if they have announced my results yet?"
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Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 3:05 pm
Saphen watched the doctors move about quietly as he rested on the bed they had offered him. After the adrenaline had left his body, Saphen felt extremely sore in his chest and stomach.
Tai had done quite a number on the bard's body despite the fact that it was only one hit that occurred.
Saphen made a mental note...
1. Remove bear wrestling from list of things to do before I die...
1. Cross off bear wrestling as something I have now completed on list of things I need to do before I die.
With a content nod, Saphen turned to see a nurse trying to remove his mask and with that Saphen glared at her. Her hands paused nervously as she tried to explain why she had to remove it.
"Am I unable to speak?" he asked in a matter o fact tone to which she tried to mumble a reply. Before she could get any words out he interrupted her again "Am I unable to breathe? Unable to think? Unable to eat? Unable to drink?" with each point his voice became more gently and more quiet as he realized that she seemed to be new to her profession.
Saphen took her hand gently and put it to his mask, where his lips would be, and released it gently "I am honored you wish to make sure I am alright in all areas mi'lady but for now please focus on the only area that actually hurts." A grin traced his invisible face as he added "If I last long enough in this tournament, you might be able to see more than just my chest."
A crimson glow invaded her cheeks as she dashed off, stumbling over a small work table as she tried to find a head doctor to help her in the procedure.
Piano: Soft, Subdued "So intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close "
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