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 Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 9:39 am
Mot nearly threw up when he saw Hel. He had not expected this. He'd expected a gash or something, sure, but this!? The reaper gagged, and turned away a moment, his hand held over his mouth clamped tightly.
He took a moment to collect himself, his free hand waving at Hel to take a seat. Please not on his bed. He didn't want to have to clean bloodstains off his bedding.
Gathering himself up, Mot cleared his throat, getting the pot off the burner and pouring two mugs of cider.
He then ignored them entirely and guzzled down a pot of coffee. The whole thing.
He slammed it down and then turned. "OKAY! So.." He coughed, "What in the seven Hells happened to you?" He wobbly stalked towards his first aid kit, sitting across from Hel.
"Also um.. you need to remove your shirt."
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 9:48 am
Well, luckily, once in Mot’s room, Hel mellowed out, after all, all that stubbornness aside, she knew this was pretty serious. “Sorry.” She grimaced apologetically, not missing the way Mot nearly threw up. But, she was considerate, and Hel ended up moved to his bathroom. She pushed the door open, turned on the light, and started stripping her top layers. Thus, she was seated on his bathroom floor in her stockings, bottoms, and her bra, and a bloody mess down the front. Hel fished a hair tie out of her apron, and pulled as much as her hair back as she could into a pony tail.
“Ah…” Her brows furrowed. Jack…she didn’t like that she was about to say this outloud. “Well…you read Critter, ya…? I made a bet with Amrita…and really, I thought it was a joke because well…it was Amrita! Yanno!? But she came to my door and asked for a spar and then…she put her hand through my chest.”
Hel reached up, looking like she wanted to try and start putting skin back together to help, but honestly had no idea where to start. “Went through my skin and broke my sternum.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 9:53 am
"Am... Am-Amrita?" Mot stammered, trying not to let it distract him from helping Hel. "Oh... wow. Amrita isn't.. she never..." But she had, apparently. "Why would she do that over a stupid bet?" He'd recalled helping her once while she was injured, and made him swear not to tell a soul. He'd keep that promise, but suddenly the sweet yet troublesome ghoul was seemingly less innocent than he thought. There was something inside her that was not so wholesome.
Mot groaned, using the sink and a heavy washcloth to clean up the blood. he couldn't very well see what he was doing without some clear visual. "I'd reprimand you for making that absurd bet in the first place, but.. that would hardly help us now." He grumbled, giving the ghoul a haughty look.
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 9:58 am
“It is not the Amrita I know.” Hel’s lips pulled into a scowl. “She…that thing is not the one any of us know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I do not get it, Mot…how can one person just…be for a couple years and then just…be someone else.” She hoped Mot could help her make sense of this…but on the other hand, she didn’t think he’d know anymore than she did.
Hel’s lips briefly pulled up into somewhat of a pained smile before it fell. “Ya…if I knew who I had been dealing with I…would have been more aware.” But now bitten, she wouldn’t do that again.
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 10:02 am
Not Amrita? Then someone posing as her, or maybe something had happened to her. "I'll try and talk to her. Not now but.. sometime soon." Mot murmured, setting aside the bloody washcloth and hovering his hand over her gaping wound. "I won't be reckless, Hel. I don't want to end up like this, either."
Mot concentrated, using his learned Fear healing to mend some of the internal damage. He was only a student, and could only do so much. "You really must learn not to fear Miss Cricket. If you had gone to her, there would likely be no scarring."
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 10:27 am
Hel was about to open her mouth, to protest Mot talking to her, until he followed up, addressing her worries. Yeah. He was right. He wouldn’t be reckless like her, and Mot knew how not to escalate things to a fight…but still. It was Mot, and she would worry for him. Hel sighed, and kept her chin raised as to give Mot plenty of space to work with.
She hissed softly as she felt pieces of her bones shift and mend, and was silent for a moment. “I do not fear her.” She stressed, glancing off to the side momentarily. “…I do not know. Just…I rather not.” Maybe it had something to do with her being staff…and reporting something to others or more higher up…”Please it is a…mater of…comfort and trust.” She muttered. “I trust you.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 10:35 am
Mot smiled softly, nodding. "Okay. I'm glad you trust me. Just know that I'm nowhere near as good a mender as she." He lifted his hand away, having given all he could in ways of Fear healing. Now came the physical mending. Mot took a needle and thread from his kit, as well as something to help clean and numb the surrounding area, which he began swabbing at first. It likely stung a lot at first.
"Sorry of this hurts, Hel."
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 10:42 am
“Well…you gotta get better somehow…” She shot the boil a grin. “You will get tons of training and practice with me.” Of that she was sure. Of course, Hel’s face twisted and contorted as Mot wiped the area and her lips would pull into a sneer, but she didn’t make a sound.
“It is alright.” She murmured. “Not your fault. You are good, Mot, just do what you need to.”
Probably also going to be one of the easiest patients Mot would ever have. No fighting, no biting, no kicking and no screaming.
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 10:46 am
"I do not find that comforting." Mot gave Hel a look, but shook his head. Practice was a good thing, but the fact that Hel was a magnet for injuries was hardly something he found excitement in. But there was also no changing Hel.
Mot winced as he began stitching her up. This was something he'd have to get used to if he did become a field medic for the Boogies, something he'd been pondering for some time now. It wasn't any less gross. And surreal.
"That must have been some hit. Fear usually clears this right up..."
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 10:58 am
Hel just smiled at Mot, and had nothing more to say on that matter. Her personality and outlook might change…but her tendency to come back bloody and bruised never would. Hel just idly stared at the wall as Mot started to stitch her up, and briefly she thought back to the Violet Tower when Amrita expertly patched her up after her own hand had been in her chest, with a piece of skin from herself…
Hel’s lips pulled into a frown. That seemed to be the last she had seen of that Amrita, and that was…sad. It was sad.
Mot’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Ah…ya…she was down and she came up at an angle with her hand and…when she pulled it out, she was not gentle…” Hel trailed off. “…Once it is stitched up, could you apply your FEAR healing to it every day…? Minimal scarring would be most pleasant.” One, to not rouse suspicion…and two well…Hel was vain, okay. She had gone a really long time without marring her skin, and her wings didn’t count because she didn’t see those scars often.
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 11:02 am
"Of course." Mot nodded softly, nearly finished stitching. "Anything I can do to help." With the final stitch in place, Mot snipped the thread, heaving a sigh as if he'd been holding his breath. "There we go. All patched up."
Mot cleaned up the mess, washing his hands and the cloth thoroughly. "There is hot cider poured for you in the kitchen. Could you take it to the bed with you? I feel that you should rest a bit."
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 11:12 am
Hel was silent until he finished. “…Thanks.” She murmured, and though it was soft, she meant it. She knew Mot would never turn her away, no matter how stupid she was…but still, she appreciated it, and she didn’t take it for granted. As Mot started to clean up though, Hel rifled through the first aid kit and pulled out a roll of gauze and a pad. She then turned until her back was to the boil, and pulled down her bra. She planted the pad over the stitched up wound, and then started to wrap it up by criss-crossing across her chest. She tucked the end in and secured it, and then pulled her bra back on and up.
The reaper looked over her shoulder at the boil. “Ah…okay. Ya…I guess you are right…” The ghoul looked down at her clothes, and while black, and hid blood, she knew it’d be dumb to put them back on…but ah…Mot didn’t have anything she could borr—
“Hey Mot…!” Her voice perked up a bit. “Could I borrow one of your cloaks for now? Or…yanno…I can occupy your room in just my bra and bottoms, that is cool too.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 12:32 pm
Mot chuckled softly, putting away the kit and tossing out the cloth. "Right, right.." The reaper moved to his coat rack, where a myriad of cloaks and ponchos hung in splendour. One of which was draped over a dresser, in the process of being embroidered. Mot was sure taking to detail oriented hobbies with a passion. In fact, the nearly finished "war table" he was making for the student council was on it's side near his work station, a fully detailed map of Amity engraved on it's surface. Mot pulled a large black cloak for Hel, softly setting it over her head and onto her shoulders.
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 2:34 pm
Hel smiled as Mot dropped a cloak over her head and onto her shoulders and she chuckled. "Thanks." She replied briefly running her hand over the material. The ghoul couldn't help but muse that this was the first thing of Mot's she could a actually fit into and even then it didn't really count because it was a cloak. The reaper padded off to the little kitchenette and grabbed one of the steaming mugs. She then spun on her heel and made her way to the bed. The reaper took a seat and leaned against the headboard, cupping the mug between her hands before she released a sigh.
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 3:11 pm
Mot pulled up a chair, his own mug of cider held snug in his hand. Sitting down he had himself a sip, leaning back comfortably. "Comfy?" He asked with a small grin. "Do you need anything for the pain?" Mot felt the need to coddle and fuss, as was his nature. His fingers drummed steadily against the hot ceramic mug, black with a skull imprinted on it, as did most things Mot owned.
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