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 Posted: Sat Dec 25, 2010 9:22 pm
((This is open for anyone that wants to come, whether they were actually at the battle against Princess Kaguya or have other reasons for their injuries.))
A trail of blood followed her as she drug and crawled down the street away from the fading din of what Chromite could only assume was a whole new sort of battle than the one she was fleeing. She'd been hurt. Again. And though she had no problems with laying her life down for their Queen and the Negaverse, as far as the lieutenant could tell her injuries were always the work of some alien force. For all she knew Ice b***h was the doing of those damned Senshi in some way or another as well. It made no difference to her that they'd been fighting her too.
Nothing resembling logic mattered. She hated everything alien- One day Chromite was going to stand next to her Queen and wipe every last one of them off the planet. Their planet. Her planet. And then there was a clicking of boots and -- Something else; then just as suddenly Lieutenant Mica was standing there, looking down. "Can you walk?" seemed like such an innocent question but it was one that made Chromite laugh. It ended in a fit of coughing but she nodded, trails of honey and pink hair sticking to the blood on her cheeks.
"Yes," was all she answered quietly. She staggered to her feet and was instantly proud of herself. It didn't take more than one step for her to realize though that she was not going to make it anywhere in the condition she was in. A thought echoed by her body as her knees buckled and her stomach threatened to empty itself on her ballet flats.
Letting the other officer lend her a hardened hand in silence- She slowly, quietly, but gratefully made her way to wherever Mica chose to lead her. Negaverse was family after all and you can always trust family.
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Posted: Sat Dec 25, 2010 9:36 pm
Mica hadn’t actually expected the girl to be able to walk, cut up as she was; she’d seen gang victims in better condition. Still, she’d thought it best to offer on the off-chance that the girl was one of those prideful sorts. In the end she had to help her fellow Lieutenant hobble back to her apartment, finding yet another reason to be grateful for her Negaverse uniform. Of course, she couldn’t stay powered up – she didn’t want nosy Senshi tracking her back to her apartment – so she had returned to her civilian form when she felt they were a safe distance away, and suggested that the other girl do the same.
Mica – well, Nyasa now – opened the door to her apartment unceremoniously and turned on the light. It was a rather plain apartment: boring, neutral colors with worn furniture and nearly empty walls. The only odd features were the plastic covering all of the carpet, as if such dingy carpet needed protecting, as well as a plastic beach chair. Nyasa was nothing if not practical. Shortly after becoming acquainted with the hazards of her occupation as a Negaverse agent, she realized that cleaning blood from her furniture and carpet would be troublesome, thus the bits of plastic decor.
Nyasa helped her companion over to the plastic chair. Once she saw that her guest was settled in, Nyasa made a query as she left to go fetch her medical bag from the lone bedroom.
“ You want recreational, medicinal, or nothing for the pain?”
Nyasa had a decent stock of alcohol, even though she wasn’t normally much of a drinker. There was a good chance - more then a good chnce - that her injured guest wasn't of drinking age, but that was one law Nyasa had few qualms in breaking. She also had a stash of some strong painkillers; being a paramedic had its perks.
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Posted: Sat Dec 25, 2010 9:51 pm
Through all of the pain and draining blood, Chromite wasn't going to be able to keep herself in uniform for very long anyway. Powering down to Genevieve she was grateful that her civilian self was actually dressed for this weather. But still- it wasn't like her wounds were going to magically go away.
As they got into the apartment the heat from the building and the older woman was slowly bringing life back to her numb wounds. It was a burning sensation and the more the heat crept back into her veins the more she was in pain. It was like she was being stabbed with white-hot iron pokers instead of the icicles that had impaled her. The worst of them was the hole between her ribs. Still, as she was settled down onto the plastic chair she couldn't help but grimace out a smile. The chair showed practicality and intelligence in Mica and Genevieve was proud to call her a fellow officer. Especially now that she was offering her booze and drugs.
It wasn't often that the sixteen year old felt the urge to be irresponsible and do things like abuse prescription drugs and alcohol- But she certainly wasn't above it either and feeling like she was going to die a slow and painful death wiped all worries of the laws she was breaking out of her mind. With a sleepy half-smile she waved her hand without moving the arm.
"Recreational -- with a mix -- of medicinal?"
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Posted: Sat Dec 25, 2010 10:56 pm
That Chromite wasn’t crying or screaming was enough to earn her some of Nyasa’s respect. She had seen grown men bawl over lesser wounds on several occasions; silence was always welcome. She wasn’t going to count on that though. Along with her little black bag, she grabbed her MP3 player and makeshift gag made from a bandana.
Returning to the room, she plugged in the MP3, turned her stereo on, and then handed the MP3 remote to Chromite.
“ Find something you like, if you wish.”
Nyasa was crap at comforting people, but at least she attempted to offer a distraction. Sorta. Music would also cover any questionable noises.
“ Oxy with a pinch of alcohol then; don’t want to mix too much.”
Setting her stuff down next to Chromite, she fished out a little pill bottle and shook out a single white pill, placing it on an end table that she had dragged next to the beach chair. Then she went to her fridge and began to dig around. Pulling out a wine cooler, she popped the lid off and set it too on the small table before she began to pull her stuff out of her bag.
“ I suppose I should ask for your name at this point.”
Gauze, tape, swabs, scissors, thread… where was that needle?
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Posted: Sun Dec 26, 2010 12:30 pm
It wasn't that Genevieve at this point didn't want to scream and carry on like a newborn- She hurt and she hurt a lot. Any sane person in the universe had the right to at least cry out once in awhile with the wounds she had managed to accrue. But this was not a sane girl. Her pride wouldn't let her, her loyalty to her duties wouldn't let her, and -more importantly- her voice wouldn't let her. The teenager had spent a good part of the night screaming at Kaguya, screaming at Senshi and Negaversers alike, and then throwing a hissy fit when she wasn't payed any attention. Paired with a short skirt and snow in her flats ... Well, it was likely that Genevieve wasn't going to talk for a good while. Even her previous request for combined "pain management" had sounded toady to the girl. And though she hid it that didn't stop the tears from welling and spilling over.
Reaching out and taking the remote, Genevieve paused mid action. "... Your neighbors?" It wasn't often the girl gave any thought to how her actions affected others, but the older Lieutenant was taking care of her and had let her into her home- She didn't want to get Mica into any trouble. Still she chose a song that sounded peaceful, a song she'd heard but didn't know the name of, and put it to a volume that was loud enough to cover any bad noises she made but quiet enough(she hoped) to not piss anyone off. At most- She hoped it would sound like two people making love than getting emergency medical treatment.
As the pill was set down and the cooler soon afterward, Genevieve swallowed it down with the help of the bottle. She'd always hated the taste of pills before they were swallowed and this was no different, but the wine was much better at hiding the bitter taste than her usual glass of water was. "Thank you." It was getting more and more apparent that the pain was creeping into the edges of everything and just moving to set the bottle down made her grimace and whine. She would never let the woman helping her know that she really just wanted to scream until she passed out.
"My name is Genevieve." Mica(what was her real name?) was clearly all business, but if she'd been interested in caring it would have made the teen happy to know that this was the second time she'd gotten to meet another Nega outside of the job. This new world she'd been blessed into was an extension of her family now and even though the soldier in her was content with just titles and aliases- The child in her wanted to be closer to her new siblings. As the scissors and thread were taken out, it dawned on her that stitches were going to happen and she clenched her eyes shut tight.
"I don't know. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to my parents."
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Posted: Sun Dec 26, 2010 10:14 pm
“ My neighbors are accustomed to young hooligans playing loud music at strange hours.”
She wasn’t the only one in this apartment complex that played their music louder then necessary. There were many young wannabe gangsters that played their rap music late into the night, bass shaking the walls. In these parts, you either got used to certain things – loud music, gunshots, sirens, etc. – you moved, or you went crazy.
Seeing Genevieve clench her eyes, Nyasa felt it necessary to say, “ I don’t have to stitch it, but it’ll bleed for a while and you’ll risk infection. Stitches are easier to hide then infection symptoms.”
As for Genevieve’s question, well, that was a problem Nyasa hadn’t had to deal with, thank goodness.
“ I’d suggest you pick a dangerous new hobby: Fencing, martial arts… bathing cats.” She added dryly. She had bathed her elderly neighbor’s cat once; never again. She still had scars.
“ I’m Nyasa.” Then in a more professional voice – meaning one that sounded amazingly blank and clipped – she said. “ Tell me when the meds kick in. Also, if you want stitches, we’ll have to get your shirt off.”
Normally this would be a promise for fun times ahead, but even Nyasa wouldn't call stitches fun.
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Posted: Tue Dec 28, 2010 10:10 pm
Genevieve peered at Nyasa through slitted eyes before shifting her gaze to the windows. They were obviously closed, but she could still swear that she did hear other music and possibly the police nearby. She'd been in such a daze just getting to the place she hadn't payed any attention to where she'd ended up. Not that it was that important, she hadn't grown up anywhere one could consider ritzy or even nice. Not by a long shot. She was downright lucky she'd gotten a dorm at Crystal. It was tempting to her to shrug her shoulders then and play the whole thing off with a 'its cool', but she wasn't nearly that awesome. Plus- the thought of shrugging her shoulders alone made her nauseous.
At the mention of things not getting stitched, however much she despised the thought of being sewn up, Genevieve used the last of her reserved cool and voice to reach out and nod her head. "No, I -have- to be stitched up. I have school starting again and I am not going to miss Drama because I have .... I don't know, gangrene." So with that, she smiled weakly at Nyasa(what a pretty name!) and started to lift her shirt.
It was a struggle. She blushed. A lot.
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Posted: Sat Jan 01, 2011 2:25 pm
Nyasa had expected Genevieve to struggle. In fact, she would’ve been more surprised if she hadn’t. Figuring the shirt was a loss anyway – bloodstains were notoriously difficult to get out, and the holes would be hard to explain – Nyasa grabbed her scissors and made quick work of the tattered garment.
“ Worry about clothing later.”
Nyasa set to work, first cleaning and disinfecting the wounds. Once that was done, she allowed her patient to take a breather – and get more inebriated – by fetching her another beverage to drink while she prepped her needle. Just before she began, she tossed the silk bandana/gag in Genevieve’s lap.
“ In case you want something to bite on.”
With that, Nyasa adjusted the light on the side table and began stitching up her patient.
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Posted: Tue Jan 04, 2011 4:30 pm
Of all the silly things to worry about then and there, it was when Nyasa started to cut open Genevieve's shirt that she protested. Rather loudly. "But that's the first shirt I payed for myself!" Even as she said it the girl knew it was dumb, but it mattered to her damnit. She had enough trouble fitting in at Crystal and that had been the first 'status symbol' she had been able to afford.
That was when the damn broke. The freezing cold, the pain, the fact that she was now shirtless in front of someone she didn't know at all, and that her shirt was beyond repair. So, clenching her jaw and trying to just 'tough' the stitching out, she sobbed like a total and ruined wretch.
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Posted: Tue Jan 04, 2011 9:10 pm
Crying. Nyasa didn’t like it when people cried. It wasn’t that she cared if people were sad or distressed, it was simply that they often seemed to expect some sort of response that she couldn’t or wouldn’t give. But advice, well, she could give that and hope it would make due.
“ You ever targeted a pimp, or wannabe gangster?” She asked as she finished up the stitches. “ Check their pockets and steal their shoes. They always seem to have expensive shoes.”
That probably wasn’t what Genevieve wanted to hear, but what was Nyasa supposed to say? The shirt had holes and bloodstains; she didn’t get what the big deal was. Then again, she had never had to worry about impressing anyone.
On the up side, Nyasa had finished the stitches. They weren’t as pretty and precise as the stitches one might get in the hospital, but then again, Nyasa didn’t have much to practice on. Bandages came next, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how to apply those.
Once she was done, she sat back and checked out her work.
“ Disinfect the wounds and change the bandages twice daily. If any of the wounds feel hot, turn red, and/or have pus, go to a hospital; those are infection signs. Otherwise, come back in a week and the stitches should be ready to come out.”
She carefully washed and disinfected her supplies, returning them all to her black bag.
“ Want a D.A.R.E. shirt or a ‘What would Jesus do?’ shirt?”
There was an upside to the various groups trying to “save” the poorer parts of Destiny City, namely that they sometimes gave away freebies.
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Posted: Thu Apr 07, 2011 8:49 pm
The sobbing came to a stop slowly and through the sniffles, she hated the sniffles part, Genevieve smiled half-heartedly. "There's my problem then ... I've been targeting disgusting frat boys." Genevieve had learned very early on that frat boys didn't usually have money because by the time she'd gotten to them the pigs had spent all of their cash on booze and prostitutes. Following that train of thought she wondered why she'd never thought about going after those same hooker's pimps. Huh. What a wonder indeed.
Choking back the last of her blubbering induced snot she admired Nyasa's work. She'd only ever had to get stitches one time before and she'd been nearly dead and so drugged up on pain killers that she hadn't been awake during the process. It hadn't been as bad as she'd anticipated and was grateful. Even if she would have to find a good lie for why she had clearly been patched up but not accrued any hospital charges. The teen hoped that would be enough to keep her from finding a reason for the wounds to begin with. "Yeah, unfortunately I've been banged up bad before this. I know what to do."
Cringing at the idea of putting anything with the 'WWJD' slogan on her body, shrugged carefully and opted for the D.A.R.E. shirt. "At least the anti-drug shirts tend to be black ... So I guess I'll take that one. Thanks." Not knowing what else to say, she sat there awkwardly for a few minutes while Nyasa got the shirt. Chewing on her bottom lip she eyed the apartment again.
"So. I can't really drag my a** home this late at night ... How do you feel about cookies?" She didn't want to impose herself on the already pretty damn generous Mica, but maybe if she could make it worth the woman's while it could become more of an exchange then mooching.
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Posted: Tue Apr 26, 2011 5:44 pm
“ Cookies?” Nyasa said as she did a mental inventory of her groceries. “ I don’t think I have- wait.”
Nyasa disappeared into her bedroom, remerging a few seconds later with the D.A.R.E. shirt and a gift basket full of baking supplies. She tossed Genevieve the shirt and placed the gift basket on the counter.
“ Got that from a neighbor, but I don’t bake; be nice to get some use out of it.”
Cookies were nice and Nyasa was not about to turn down an offer for free food. If the offer stemmed from a desire to repay a favor, well, technically Nyasa had just been doing her duty, but she wasn’t about to bring that up.
“ Lemme get something and then you can have at the kitchen.”
Two bags of ice were quickly made, one left on the counter by the basket.
“ I assume you’ve got some bruises, so when you’re not busy baking, use that.”
Nyasa took the second bag of ice, wrapped it in a towel, then put in on her couch and laid on it. Now, for something to talk about.
“ How have you kept this hidden from your parents so far?” Actual curiosity there. Nyasa never had to worry about parents, but knew she was an exception in the Negaverse.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2011 2:42 pm
Taking note of all the things in the gift basket she was pleased to see it had everything for chocolate chip cookies. Standard, but always good and so easy to make. Slipping the shirt over her head she stood and placed a hand on the ice. It shouldn't take too much time to whip up the batter so she went to work pre-heating the oven and finding a spoon to mix everything with.
Getting to work she placed each ingredient in the bowl without a thought, it was automatic to her. Smiling she shrugged. "Maybe it's mean or unethical but I slip crushed up Ambien into their drinks at dinner. They're sound asleep for a solid eight hours every night and I can just walk in and out of the house. They're my parents and I love them but it's for the best they don't find out." But she'd forgotten to do that this time since she'd been in such a rush to get to the fountain. "And sometimes I find ways to lure people into closets or back rooms at school and work and take their energy. As a buffer for the times I can't get out of the house."
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Posted: Mon Oct 03, 2011 9:31 pm
“ Not bad.” Nyasa said. “ It’s an unfortunate necessity; good that you’re not taking easy excuses out.”
If she was stuck under her parent’s gaze and having to work around school, Nyasa wasn’t sure what she would do. Oh, sure she’d think of something, but she was quite glad that she didn’t have to. The only nuisance she had to contend with was nosy co-workers.
“ Could always tell your parents you need a tutor or mentor for something, maybe find someone to play along. That’d give you another excuse. Maybe a mentor/teacher for a sparring class?” Nyasa shrugged, not knowing how believable that idea would be. “ It’d kill two birds with one stone anyway.”
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Posted: Wed Nov 09, 2011 7:37 pm
Making a 'Mm' noise as she stirred her cookie dough in thought, she shrugged. "The way I see it is that I was chosen for a reason and I've been allowed to live despite my shortcomings for that same reason. I owe it to our Queen to do the best I can. That's all there is to it." There wasn't more to it- Becoming part of the Negaverse was the first time she'd really belonged to anything and she was going to be damned or dead if she let that go. Or slacked on her responsibilities.
Spooning the mixture of cookie gunk onto baking trays and slipping them into Nyasa's oven she washed off her hands and sat back down next to the older woman. Smiling weakly she shook her head at the mention of a tutor or sparring teacher. In order for her to need a tutor she'd have to purposefully fail her classes, and with her job and family there was no time for something like sparring classes... Unless- "Actually, I guess I could always find another officer or Lieutenant to be a sparring coach. We could drain energy and spar and then I wouldn't be technically lying to my parents."
She was probably one of the few teenage girls in the world that was honestly concerned about not being honest with her parents. The sleeping pills bothered her enough as it was.
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