Appointments Post

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 A catch-all post made for threads that don't fit into any particular entry; if you use this, please put the date and the means of communicating in the subject line! I.E., 'August 1st [Written]'.

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March 27th [Action]

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[OOC: Continued from here.]

[Late evening before she returns home to find an unfortunate message scrawled outside her house, Adele's in the clinic. It seems like a regular enough of an evening; at least until she walks out and sees Sergeant Doyle. Cradling a bloody arm.]

...What happened?

[Puzzled as she is she's still walking over to kneel and take a better look at his wounded arm.]

March 27th [Action]

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[There we go—he'd been waiting for you, madam doctor. Or at least, waiting for a doctor in general; it didn't take long at all for someone to notice him, so at least he was content with not having to budge an inch. After all, he was already far into the stages of light-headedness. Wiping his sweaty blood-dotted cheek he offers a nod of welcome. Totally casual, even if he was riding a few mean waves of pain up that arm.

Funny way of meeting someone again, right? Last time he'd seen Adele it'd been at the battle dome, helping her wander its fucked-up halls.]

Evening, doctor. You any good at treating vampire attacks?

[He'll grimace and peel back the jacket to give her a clear picture, which in hindsight sucks because it's all still bleeding and the clinging material isn't helping much. They look a lot like little knife-flecks; inhuman claws. Hard to really imagine it's not from a sharp-clawed animal, ain't it?

He breathes in sharp, hanging his head and grumbling a few curse words befitting of a sea dog.]

March 27th [Action]

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I am afraid that you will be my first. Don't worry, I shall be gentle.

[It was easier to snark at Doyle while she helps him peel back the sleeve of his jacket, examining the cuts with a critical eye. Her expression smooths out as her mind starts to work, and she does her best to help him stand so she could get him to a room with actual tools. Sutures. Morphine. Epinephrine. Needles and surgical tubing for the closest thing to a blood transfusion she could offer. All of this runs through her head as she elevates the wounded arm and loops her other arm under his shoulders.]

Stand with me. The sooner you are in an examination room, the sooner I might treat you.

March 27th [Action]

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[He hisses between his closed teeth, but manages to stagger up and walk with her; it's not that bad, he thinks. It's manageable. He's been shot before, broken things, the usual—this? Not so bad.

But it still fuckin' hurt.]

Alright. [breathes] I'm not sure if this place'll be getting anymore vampire maulings, so just keep an eye out. Buffy's gone off to deal with the problem, s'far as I know.

March 27th [Action]

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[It's not that far to the nearest available exam room. She helps him just down the hall, the first door to the left, and turns the knob with her free hand before shouldering the door open. Three feet and she sets him down on the cot, leaving him to gather what she'll need. Sutures, latex gloves, the laceration holy trinity of saline, morphine, and epinephrine. Cleanse, numb, constrict.]

Should I ask who, or when? Or how long it is that you have been bleeding in the waiting room?

March 27th [Action]

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Vampire's name is Drusilla, crazy as hell. And the attack was about a half hour ago—been bleeding for about a few minutes out there. [He huffed, leaning like the Tower of Pisa because he was damn tired.] It was a good break from all the running.

March 27th [Action]

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...

[That's just fantastic. Adele shakes her head and carries the tools she needs over to the exam table, motioning for Doyle to lift his arm. First and foremost she gives him a small injection of morphine just around the cuts so that cleaning them out isn't quite so painful.]

You have lost plenty of blood, then. [More than he would without the accelerated heart rate. Wonderful. Just. Wonderful.]

March 27th [Action]

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Oh, tons of it.

[He lifts his arm up to the table shakily, looking at it and apparently paling even more. Ugh, blood. Gross, meaty blood. He wants to just pass out at that shit. PUT ME BACK OUTSIDE WHERE IT WAS TOO DARK TO SEE IT.

He swallows dryly.]

'Least she didn't nick anything major.

March 27th [Action]

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Eyes on me, Sergeant.

[Sickness at the sight of blood? She knows the symptoms well enough. If he's looking at her, he's not watching her work. Less likely that he'd faint while she was in the middle of stitching him up.]

Deep, even breaths. Is this the only major injury you've endured tonight?

[Don't throw up on her, please. It'd just be the perfect end to tonight.

Gloved fingers dab at the edges of the cuts as Adele pours a small measure of saline into the deepest of them, flushing out the blood and whatever detritus might remain.]

May 11th, Evening [Video]

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[It'd been almost a week or so since she'd last called Rick. She'd meant to days ago but. Well. Misunderstanding with a knife. And all the newfeathers that popped up after- and her own treatment, Lupin fretting, Will fretting. She'd not gotten around to it. So here she is, propped up in her bed, flipping through a book and opening with her usual line.]

Still alive, Rick?

[Video]

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[When he answers to the usual tune, he rolls his eyes.]

I should be asking you that, shouldn't I?

[Yeah, he heard, doctor. Just recently. You people and your knack for communication. He's just relaxing in his living room, feet up on the table, scribbling through a Sudoku puzzle.

I'M BEING GOOD, SHEESH.]

[Video]

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[Good because if he wasn't she'd have words with him. Words.]

It was a relatively minor cut, Rick. It just hurt and bled like a bitch.

[She'd meant to tell him herself. Really. Word travels faster than she's able to scribble out a message apparently.]

[Video]

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Relatively minor enough to put you on bedrest. [He's nice enough to not roll his eyes again. Small favors, because you're his pal.] I heard it was, uh... a fella' named Peeta.

[He's a little uncomfortable mentioning it - mainly because in some sad, weird, unfair way, he knows Peeta. The other doesn't know him, but he remembers. The boy Katniss liked, the one who baked bread, the one who was in the Hunger Games. At least, that was he and Katniss' universe at the time. He's not sure how much he changed the course of history there. Honestly, he thinks not too much.

A shrug.]

Caught him at a pretty bad time. Now we're tied in the 'I got injured by a New Feather and lived' tally.

[Video]

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It was a misunderstanding involving a knife. Naught else.

[She starts to shrug, more than ready to breeze on by any more discussion of her cut but that. That makes her lock up. And turn to level a glare at the camera. No one should know that. She's only told Lupin, and told him to keep it to himself. Doyle should not know.]

...how do you know who it was?

[Video]

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[... Eh, he's not about to give her 100 percent of the facts, but he figures he can offer a good enough answer that she'll stop glaring at him.]

I knew him and his world. He was friends with my... 'niece', when they threw us in different worlds and brought us back other people; when he came here she let me know about it.

[A pause.]

He was a friend.

[Barely remember a lot about him, but he remembers seeing him grow up. The faces all blur together - mesh, and all he can really gleam from it is that he isn't a boy with bread anymore.

There was a limp, too. The Games made him limp around a lot.

He shakes his head.]

He probably wouldn't know me, though.

[Video]

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Katniss.

[At that the glare fades and she relaxes into the pillows. No one else knew. No one else would take anything out on Peeta. Relief washes over and out of her in a log sigh. He would be fine. She was healing, and he would be well.

...

This lasts for a ll of a moment before the rest of what he said clicked. Wait. When he was different. When she'd healed his arm. He'd been from.]

You. You visited that world. The world with the gladiatorial combat involving children?

[She stares for a long while. Attempting to process this.]

...suddenly how intoxicated you were after the fact makes so much more sense.

[Video]

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So you know about them.

[Heh. He looks away, itching his hairline. At least he didn't have to be too secretive with anything. It was difficult to admit what he'd done, what he'd seen, even if it was all fake and he was supposed to be a soldier. How do you tell someone you were a kid murdering other kids for some twisted sport?]

It was a, uh... lot to take in. Forgetting the Games is pretty fuckin' impossible.

August 4th, [Voice]

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[After a week of unwanted visitors, doors that don't go where they should, rooms too big, rooms too small, and all other sorts of maddness- Adele wanted something almost obnoxiously normal.

Dinner with Rick would be relaxing enough for her to forget the irritating details of the most recent experiment.]

Rick?

August 4th, [Voice]

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[Huh, who's this? The usual doctor who pokes him on occasion?]

That'd be me. What's up, doc?

[Yes, he might've done that on purpose. Sue him.]

August 4th, [Voice]

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[If it didn't make her laugh, she would.]

I was wondering if you had plans for dinner tonight.

August 4th, [Voice]

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Me? Well.... [He putters his lips, frowning, looking at his imaginary watch.] Yikes, I don't know--I have a pretty hectic schedule around here, y'know. Never a dull moment.

August 4th, [Voice]

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You've no opening in your busy, busy schedule for something as simple as pizza and beer?

[Something from Azzip and a sixpack of a lager she remembered him enjoying before. What, so she could enjoy something that disgustingly American once and awhile. Sometimes. With Rick, at least.]

[Voice]

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[Well when you say it like that...]

Pizza and beer? Not something I thought I'd hear you willingly offer.

[He appreciates you kindness.]

I'm in. What's my mission briefing?

[Voice]

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I can be casual sometimes...Not often, true, but sometimes.

[She huffs a laugh.]

You're in charge of the pizza. I'll get the beer. I'll eat most anything on pizza so long as it isn't deep fried- and what are your preferences for beer?

[Voice]

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Anything and everything. But I'll depend on you for finding something worthwhile.

[He grins.]

Got a location?