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 Posted: Fri Dec 06, 2013 6:11 pm
After leaving two third stage warriors in the battle for earth to duke it out without her, Zia found herself mirrorwalking to a familiar place that was totally not home at all.
Consciously she wondered why she didn't just phase through the mirror that was a short distance from her bed and collapse there, but on a layer just below that she probably knew it was because she needed help and was in a weird state of semi-denial.
At the very least, the gash left by the serrated blade on her outer leg just above the knee, felt much better with the bit of pressure afforded by the tight jeans her civilian form was wearing. After firing a last of energy at Wolframite, she was too tired to maintain much of a powered form anyway as she limped to where she suspected she'd find Chester.
She didn't bust through the door like normal, though, Instead she leaned on the side of the frame, resting the back of one hand against her very pale forehead and jiggled the door handle with the other while she stood there, trying to stop the world from spinning or put any weight on her injured limb.
By the time she'd even made it over there, her right pants leg had been soaked in a deep red, and once the door was opened, she did her best to smirk at him with a weak grin and a cocky pointing gesture.
"Hey there, hot stuff," She crooned out in a joke before she stiffly fell forward and unceremoniously faceplanted in.
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Posted: Tue Jan 07, 2014 1:41 pm
Chester was in his new main home, as it seemed, at the carnival. He did not really go home any more, and he was alright with that. This was as good a place to stay as any. The office/living space was smaller than his other home, but still.
He arched an eyebrow as he heard the doorknob turning, though the door was locked. Getting up, not really fearing anything anymore, he moved to the door and opened it without hesitating, though he was surprised not to see a sketchy kid trying to break in but rather someone he knew very well.
And who seemed to be bleeding.
He caught her as she fell and hoisted her up into his arms, carrying her into the room and putting her down on the sofa. He looked her over, seeing the blood on her leg, frowning.
"I need to get you to the hospital," he said stiffly, and his tone, as usual, left no room to argue. Though she always did.
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Posted: Tue Jan 07, 2014 10:47 pm
"Nah," Zia said, muffled as she slumped against him and reached one hand up to awkwardly pat the side of his face.
Given the situation it was easy to assume the implication was sarcasm or a joke, but it wasn't. Even when Luxor was about the exsanguinate in the Impala she wouldn't go past the parking lot of the hospital. Zia didn't have a lot of fears, mostly just normal stuff like dying and even then dying didn't seem so bad as long as it didn't happen under certain circumstances.
But the hospital was a phobia. And phobias were irrational and did not bend to logic.
"Just needs to be wrapped up and elevated, I think," She said as she was put on the sofa, but she didn't let him go without a fight. Zia thrived on physical touch, and especially in this moment didn't want to be put down so one hand awkwardly had her nails digging into his shirt as he tried to look her over.
"...I didn't really know where to go, I panicked."
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Posted: Thu Jan 09, 2014 11:23 am
Chester watched her and frowned.
"You've lost a lot of blood already. I can't replace that. If you die from blood loss that's not something I can stop. I can help you as best I can but if you get sick..." He was not used to saying so much, and he stopped talking since he thought his point had been made anyway. It took him a moment to free himself from her grip, but he could understand her need to cling. He moved and hurried to his bathroom to gather some supplies.
He came back as fast as he could, grabbing everything he could carry and skidding to his knees beside her on the sofa once again. He looked down at her, frowning thoughtfully, but his usually grumpy expression was softened by his concern for her. When he did touch her, he was gentle and slow.
"I'll take care of you. Just calm down." He moved to start tending to her leg, having to cut her pants and apologizing with a mumble for that. He was focused on the job at hand, and absolutely nothing else.
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Posted: Thu Jan 09, 2014 12:56 pm
Zia felt like she was going in slow motion and the world just kept on moving without permission. At one point she was childishly making a noise of protest as he escaped her weak grasp and at another she was meeting his frown with a weak gush of a smile and goosebumps.
Now is not the time for playing puppy love, but she never got the memo, apparently.
And she was interrupted by the sudden realization he was cutting her pants. "A-ah...hey..." She didn't seem to have the voice or brainpower to finish the intended rapid fire thought about how she liked those jeans did he have any idea how hard it was to find jeans that fit that well and then break them in? Rude.
"I'm not panicking," She stated almost lazily with no urgency and used his unfortunate position to the couch to reach over and run her fingers through his hair.
"It's okay, I'm not dying or anything, I'm just gross and cold and tired. I don't think the universe would allow that kind of justice," She said with a weak laugh and let her head lull to the side as she invasively fiddled with his hair still.
"You know once... One of my senshi set him on fire... So I guess it is not a big deal if he tries to take off my leg... It's not gonna bring his little friend back to life. It's really not going to bring any if them back so it's stupid. Sooo stupid. I wish you smiled at me more," She rambled nonsensically, just playing with his face like they were killing time.
"I am messing up your sofa."
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 10:13 am
To be fair, she had ruined the jeans first by getting blood on them, but Chester still felt guilty for cutting them and vowed in his silent, steadfast way that he would make it up to her. Of course, he had no idea how to shop for girls, so she would likely end up with something horrifically wrong, but well suited to being comfortable while working.
He glanced at her when she ran her fingers through his hair, his expression trying to remain as bland as it always was, but there was a distinct look of unhappiness and his own panic settled in his dark gaze. He did not make a comment right away, disagreeing with her words immediately. She could very well die, but she was not going to want to hear him arguing that.
And he didn't really want to think about it.
Remaining silent, he focused on his work, addressing her injury with a set of steps in mind. Clean, bandage, were the main goals here. It was a little hard to get things done with her pawing his face, but he let her do whatever she wanted, as per usual, while he worked to accommodate her.
"Don't worry," he said, in general, though it followed her comment about the sofa. He could get a new sofa, he couldn't get a new Zia.
He managed to clean the wound with a cloth and some water, and some of the alcohol kept in his medical kit. He was as gentle as he knew how to be, though he was never made to be a doctor. He wondered if he would need to stitch the wound closed himself, frowning thoughtfully at it with a severe scowl of concentration.
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 11:12 pm
Zia was certain she would never be accustomed to pain, and that was unfortunate, because she felt like it was seriously diminishing her image here.
In movies and stories, if the protagonist was always worth something, they either grit their teeth and toughed it out or responded with yells and stronger sounds to the trauma.
So when he actually started cleaning the wound and the flesh was irritated, sending multiplied shots of pain through her nervous system, Zia was inappropriately embarrassed that her yell came out more like a whimper and her body decided that in spite of all the dehydration and blood loss tears were still an appropriate function to waste resources on.
It hurt, but some part of her was still in shock, and when he tried to clean it it only hurt more than she realized it could.
"Do you think you could live with killing one of them?" She whined as her hand in his hair slid down to his jawline to cup his cheek. "I think it should be a clean kill... when you eliminate the enemy. Not what we did... maybe. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if we had gotten... gotten any useful information, you know? But that's not what happened. It was pointless and costly suffering with no purpose... Death should have a purpose..."
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