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Green Tent

"Well, I'm glad you at least got permission before leaving. 'Cause if you didn't, I would have been marching you right back over for treatment." She was joking, of course. Maybe in time, she would be able to help tend to his wounds with her FEAR. For now..she was tired.

Leaning against him as he wrapped an arm around her, she rested her head against his shoulder. "You knew about them? What do you mean?" To be honest; she had only just found out about the hunters when they had entered the domain of time. Before then, she only knew them of cloakies with weapons.

Green Tent

Bul hated to keep such a secret from his ghoulfriend though like anything potentially dangerous to the two of them he had to treat such knowledge with care. "I did uhm... I could probably tell you more later but definitely not here. I just knew that they were the things we had a hard time with on that island and they're gonna keep and keep and keep.." he sighed.

With that he leaned back and stretched his tail a little bit having held it up for such a long time now.

"Anyways what about you? I caught a glimpse of you getting hit by that one whip sometime within that fight out in the yard. I was an idiot taking them on three or four times," he said and pointed to the whip marks on his shoulder. "You seem to have walked away better than some of the other students but I'm still concerned <3"

BLUE TENT

Blink. Blink. How could she blame herself for not being fire-proof? Mort didn't understand; being undead practically meant fire would always be bad, sure, but . . . Well he supposed he shouldn't question the guilt: he himself had already gone through the process of sdlfkldsflsnfICOULDHAVESOAVOIDEDTHATFIRE.

Despite it having been, well, everywhere. At the same time.

As the werelemur began her attempts to stitch him up herself, Mort watched a masked figure approach. The design was not very familiar to him, and . . . the zombie could feel himself getting a little nervous. The atmosphere, the fact that he was in a makeshift hospital, those needles . . .

"Nonononononono," he began to mumble, eyes fixated on the blurry outlines of those poooooointy things, as his glasses were still a little kerscuffled and bent. "Nonononononono -"

First fire. Then water. And now needles. Despite being intrinsically able to put himself together in spite of dire injuries, Mortimer was frozen with anxiety at the sight of those needles. He did not want to get an injection. He just wanted someone to stitch him up, give him a lollipop, and let him be.

This, of course, was not enough for his injuries, but anything to not get a shot oh Jack please.

Blue Tent

Malodore nodded at the ghost ghoul as it spooled out more thread for stitching. "My name is Malodore - please, let myself or Nurse Cricket know if the wound has any issues in healing." It would talk more, but well... there were so many here!

It paused as the zombie boil started... well, was it really talking if it was just one word repeated very fast? "I can see that your limbs are in dire need of reattachment. You are stitched together generally, are you not? If you prefer another method, I can see if Infermiera Cricket has any... ah... other options?"

Not that it could think of any. Good old-fashioned stitchery was the one thing it had learned at the Casa that it regarded as valid anywhere. How else were you supposed to close wounds and put limbs back on?

BLUE TENT
Unfortunately for this Malodore, all Mort had heard was someone say "needles in arms", and this in tandem with the sensation of being in a hospital with a blurry needle nearing him made the already very tired zombie spark up again.

No, literally. His brain kicked into high gear for all of two seconds and delivered a quick (but weak) shock through Mort's systems, making him jerk upwards as his hair began to stiffen outwards.

His skewed perceptions made him believe he was about to get shots from a mysteriously beaked doctor, and he was not going to have that.

"Noneedlesinarms, n-noshots!" Mort wailed, shaking as he tried to sidle in the opposite direction from Mal on his cot; it was rather slow going. "Where pills? Pills make better! No shots!"

He was referring to the pumpkin pills they had received on the trip, and the very nice healing they gave on both occasions he used them. Why not give him those? Those would fix eeeeeeverything. They had to have them in supply right?

BLUE TENT

"Graaa . . . ?"

He looked at the cup. Then at the mask. Cup. Mask.

And stitching. Hmm. Stitching would be nice.

. . . Well now he just looked sheepish.

"Mrr." He had the grace of an ugly duckling in apologizing in this state, but perhaps the look of utter chagrin on the zombie's face would be enough. DDDD8

With rigid motions he indicated Natalia with his feet; she had his arms and a small pile of fallen off flesh from various parts of his exposed body.

"T-Too muchaaaa fire," Mort said as an explanation, wincing.

In any case, he looked calm enough to take the medicine, though . . . Mal would either have to give it to him personally or get his arms functioning first.

Green Tent

Lifting her head to look at him as he spoke, she pursed her lips and nodded. Whatever it was, it sounded like it was something not to be talked around others..so she would have to be patient. "Okay, we'll talk about that later then."

Pressing her hand to the mark left on her face, she gave a small shrug. "I'm fine. Just caught me off guard is all. It'll heal faster than all your wounds--that's for sure." It was true that she had come out of this better most others, even though she had died, but that was all thanks to her FEAR. "I remember using my FEAR ability sometime before I got hit by that one fake reaper--with the hair," She gestured to her hair with her hands. "and by..Red'd attack. I guess it had an effect for when I got back. I dunno..Just lucky I guess."