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Reply Deep Space: Homeworld Exploration
[R] Second Life [Penthesilea/Vulcan]

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Noir Songbird
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PostPosted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 3:19 pm


Penthesilea was glad that when they arrived on her planet, it was directly in front of the hospital. Maybe her desperation had guided them there, she didn't care - all she cared about was that they were in the right place.

"Keep pressure on th'wound, okay?" She said, and then she let go of Vulcan to go back to that secret cache under the stairs, pulling out a number of medical supplies. Painkiller cream, disinfectant, bandages, a needle and thread.

"I'm gonna make sure you're okay."


wuthering gee
PostPosted: Thu Aug 14, 2014 9:09 pm


Volcanoes leaned against War until the the moment she was left alone, slender fingers digging into the scrap of cloth Penthesilea had torn from her cloak. It was soaked in senshi blood, pressed up against Vulcan's belly in order to hold her skin together. Her face, usually tanned and flushed with excitement, was paling.

"Thanks," she said, voice soft, supporting herself against the nearest wall.

Her movements were slow and unsteady, breathing laboured. Instead of fighting the pain in her belly Vulcan embraced it, closing her eyes, lashes fluttering like butterfly kisses against her cheeks.

"Hey," she said, lips quirking at the corners in a half-hearted attempt at lightening the mood, "at least he didn't slit my throat."

And then Vulcan grimaced, spitting at the ground.

"I can still taste his blood in my mouth."

Songstress Kitsune

wuthering gee

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PostPosted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 1:22 pm


Penthesilea couldn't help but smile faintly. It was nice to hear Vulcan joking, being confident, still - because it meant she was conscious and hanging on.

"Y'did better'n me, th'time I got stabbed," she said, scooping up the supplies and walking over. "Okay, let's get goin' on this," she held up the disinfectant, and gently tugged at the torn piece of cloak. "This ain't gonna be perfect, but hopefully it'll hold ya together long enough t'get you t'proper treatment."


wuthering gee
PostPosted: Tue Aug 19, 2014 10:27 pm


Though it was only faint, Vulcan made a point of returning Penthesilea's smile. Pain and blood loss made it difficult for Vulcan to think very much about where she was, but she knew that Penthesilea could only have brought her one place.

They were on the planet that belonged to War. Vulcan felt the weight of this honour as acutely as she did the blood-soaked parts of her fuku. She did not want to seem ungrateful, and managed not to hiss too loudly when Penthesilea started pulling at her make-shift band-aid. The blood had dried in spots. It cracked and came free, and Vulcan thought that she should probably lie down.

"I've had stitches loads of times," she murmured, palm flat against her belly, fingers just barely pinching the wound closed. The pain turned her skin ghostly white.

Vanessa had never noticed before how much movement depended on what went on around her belly. It was ridiculous. She was bending her legs, not her midsection. The simple act of lying down should not have made her cry, but the tears came anyway, silent, blurring her vision.

"Do you have a scar?" she tried to swallow, was surprised to find her mouth dry, "... from the time you got stabbed..."

Songstress Kitsune

wuthering gee

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PostPosted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 5:21 pm


Penthe gritted her teeth. She had never stitched up another person before, but she had gotten a few and knew the theory, at least. She hated that the first time was someone she actually cared about - Vulcan had impressed her, had followed her into a battle that she had started, and gotten injured under her command.

"I have too, and I'm hopin' that'll help," she said, trying not to let her voice shake. She was nervous, afraid. She didn't want to mess this up.

She took a slow breath and tore off another piece of her cloak, pouring disinfectant onto it and pressing it against the wound.

"This is prob'ly gonna sting," she said, and then she laughed faintly. "An' yeah, I do." She gestured to her stomach - a vertical scar, surrounded by strange frostlike patterns. "There was somethin' weird 'bout her sword, I guess, since it left those."


wuthering gee
PostPosted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 5:46 pm


It did sting.

Vulcan inhaled sharply when Penthesilea pressed the fresh piece of cloak, rich with disinfectant, to her bleeding stomach. Despite her best efforts to stay calm and in control, she curled into herself a little at the shock.

"Sorry," she whispered, embarassed, reaching to cover the back of Penthesilea's hand with a bloody palm. When she spoke, her voice was strained, but a shy smile still twitched at the corner of her lips. "I trust you."

Vulcan turned her head to examine the scar on Penthesilea's stomach, and felt tied to her in a whole new way. Her scar would not be accompanied by pretty patterns that looked like frost. Unless Penthesilea was secretly some sort of surgeon, it would probably be ugly. But they would share a wound in common. Sort of.

"Man, as if you got stabbed by a sword. That's so cool."

She sounded jealous.

"Okay, doc," she exhaled slowly and laid back, lifting her forearm to cover her eyes, "let's get this show on the road."

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wuthering gee

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PostPosted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 6:48 pm


Penthe flinched a little when Vulcan curled away from her, but the disinfectant was necessary. And the statement of trust just made her more determined to do this.

"Swear by Mary an' all th'saints, I got run through back t'front by General Avalon." Penthesilea said. It was easy to briefly distract herself by telling the story, and it helped her worry less. Keeping Vulcan talking meant that she was staying alive and conscious, and that was important. "It was durin' a big mess of a battle - Sailor Thraen had t'carry me out, an' I almost didn't make it."

Once she was sure the wound was properly disinfected, she applied the same stuff to the needle and thread and began, very carefully, sewing Vulcan together. It took focus, and she had to keep her hands from shaking with nerves.

"This ain't so bad - still gonna take ya to a proper doctor after this, though."


wuthering gee
PostPosted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 10:47 pm


Penthesilea had such a funny way of talking. Vanessa had never sworn by Mary or any of the other saints, but she was pretty sure that her grandmother had taken a bar of soap to her mouth once upon time for using similar language. But that was another lifetime ago. Vanessa could not remember the last time she'd spoken to Grandma Rae and experienced a little pang of guilt over the idea that she might die up here on Planet War-- without her family, or Gehenna, nearby to hold her hand as she slipped into darkness...

... the needle and thread pinched through her skin, making Vulcan wince. She bit her lip, and listened to Penthesilea's story, trying to imagine what the Senshi of War would look like with a big old sword sticking out of her abdomen.

General Avalon had run her through. The idea made Vulcan shiver with both terror and awe. Terror because Penthesilea almost didn't make it. Awe because she obviously had.

They were both survivors, though Vulcan felt like her own knife wound paled in comparison to having a mother ******** sword shoved through belly. Her heart swelled with respect and appreciation for the Senshi of War. Suddenly wanting to see what was going on around her belly button, Vulcan used her forearms to prop herself up without moving too much, in case Penthesilea's hand slipped.

"You're doing great," she said, noting a slight tremor in the other woman's fingers. "I think you should go to medical school."

Another wince, despite the lightness of her voice.

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wuthering gee

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PostPosted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 11:45 pm


Penthe nearly laughed out loud. "I'd be a terrble doctor. Shitty bedside manner," she said, shaking her head. "An' girls from St. Mag's don't go t'med school." Or at least, girls who had gotten there by breaking the zero tolerance no-weapons policy at Meadowview and threatening another student probably didn't. Mediciine had never been something she'd considered for herself. Field medicine, maybe, but nothing greater than that. Penthe had few ambitions, really.

She wanted to look up and watch Vulcan's face, but her eyes had to be on her task. Still, the praise made her hands shake a little less. She knew it had to hurt, but in the end it was better than letting Vulcan bleed out on the steps of her hospital.

(God, she wished she could get inside, she was so close, and there had to be more in there.)

She put the last stitch in place, and tied it off, then sat back. "Done," she said, her voice a little breathless with nerves.

She heard a whisper of a voice, one she knew Vulcan would not hear.

"The Trial of Second Life is complete. Evadne has succeeded."


wuthering gee
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Deep Space: Homeworld Exploration

 
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