Voices were coming from inside the building. Keiji's hand rested on the front door handle, his ear pressed up against the door.
That was good, right? People were good, right? If they all put themselves together and worked as a team there would definitely be no way—
Gunfire.
"NNOPE!"
Keiji about faced and ran like the blazes.
((Keiji continued in I'd rather be at the aquarium))
Dagon
Open
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delicateMachine
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: void
The gun was the problem, so all Alice had to do was get it away from Katarina, turning it into a solution. Ideally a solution that didn't involve forming another solution with Katarina's blood; but any hope of an ideal outcome lay cracked and disassembled on the floor alongside Irene's fingers and an indeterminately sized chunk of Alice's arm.
Alice's good and bloodied arms alike struggled to wrest control of the gun; but Katarina worked out and Alice did not. Thus, lacking any further leverage, any technique, any experience, or any plan that hadn't been peer-reviewed by the aggressive side of her fight-flight reflex; guessing the outcome wasn't something anyone should be proud of. Alice certainly wasn't.
The gun smacked Alice in the chin, Alice fell backwards, Alice hit her head on a stair and was replaced by a blur of Irene, and she would have been irritated by the sheer, callous disregard for her own life it took to waste precious brainpower, precious time thinking of a one-liner; if the banter hadn't been drowned out by the ringing in her ears.
Noise. It was just noise. Irrelevant, redundant noise; screaming what she already knew, that she was hurt, that everything was going wrong, so she just had to breathe. Just had to narrow the scope of the world, leave everything that wasn't keeping her alive out of focus. It was irrelevant, so why was it so deafening, why wouldn't it stop, it didn't matter, it didn't help; she knew this and she knew that she had to help, had to solve the problem, but now she also knew that her arm wasn't getting any better and now she could feel the texture of the blood that hadn't stopped leaking from her arm, leaking; like she was a faulty machine, and the static and the blood's voices continued to grow with their own self-importance, that they wouldn't be denied, that they weren't obsolete, and where was her mysterious spring of rationalism now, had it been knocked loose, switched off, disconnected; sparking wildly and singing her brain, burning its outline into the gray matter while it failed her utterly, left her hurt and confused and only not crying because there hadn't been time for it yet
In short, Alice was out of order for the moment.
Alice's good and bloodied arms alike struggled to wrest control of the gun; but Katarina worked out and Alice did not. Thus, lacking any further leverage, any technique, any experience, or any plan that hadn't been peer-reviewed by the aggressive side of her fight-flight reflex; guessing the outcome wasn't something anyone should be proud of. Alice certainly wasn't.
The gun smacked Alice in the chin, Alice fell backwards, Alice hit her head on a stair and was replaced by a blur of Irene, and she would have been irritated by the sheer, callous disregard for her own life it took to waste precious brainpower, precious time thinking of a one-liner; if the banter hadn't been drowned out by the ringing in her ears.
Noise. It was just noise. Irrelevant, redundant noise; screaming what she already knew, that she was hurt, that everything was going wrong, so she just had to breathe. Just had to narrow the scope of the world, leave everything that wasn't keeping her alive out of focus. It was irrelevant, so why was it so deafening, why wouldn't it stop, it didn't matter, it didn't help; she knew this and she knew that she had to help, had to solve the problem, but now she also knew that her arm wasn't getting any better and now she could feel the texture of the blood that hadn't stopped leaking from her arm, leaking; like she was a faulty machine, and the static and the blood's voices continued to grow with their own self-importance, that they wouldn't be denied, that they weren't obsolete, and where was her mysterious spring of rationalism now, had it been knocked loose, switched off, disconnected; sparking wildly and singing her brain, burning its outline into the gray matter while it failed her utterly, left her hurt and confused and only not crying because there hadn't been time for it yet
In short, Alice was out of order for the moment.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
Three bodies.
Three classmates.
One sprawling back on the stairs in front of her, bloody and dizzy and defeated. She wasn't important anymore.
Don't think don't look forget her name don't think don't look forget her name don't think don't look forget her name
Another screeching towards her with her teeth sunk into her leg. It merited a scream, and a sharp kick straight into her nose, and then she was no longer important either.
Hi There KK
A third running down the stairs towards a shape sticking out of a bag. That was important. Eris was promising a stand-off, and challenging her to accept it. With Alice and Irene reeling on the stairs, it's one she could win. Eris hadn't drawn yet, and if she held her up she might just freeze in her tracks.
She could pull the trigger she'd just as soon put it in one of their backs as KK's
But she would be bluffing. The gun was empty; had they noticed? Eris had noticed. She was smart enough to piece together why she hadn't shot Alice or Irene. Even if she wasn't, she might be crazy enough to risk it anyway.
I don't want to hurt anymore
And there was a voice behind her.
Too many make it stop
This was enough. Alice might be dead. Irene was beaten down. Eris was shaken. She turned on her heel and scooped up a bag by her feet, racing for the exit as fast as her shaky legs would carry her.
Why did it burn so bad
This was enough. It was a marathon, not a sprint.
How much farther could she go
They were in her territory.
How much more could she lie
((Katarina Konipaski's next target acquired.))
Three classmates.
One sprawling back on the stairs in front of her, bloody and dizzy and defeated. She wasn't important anymore.
Don't think don't look forget her name don't think don't look forget her name don't think don't look forget her name
Another screeching towards her with her teeth sunk into her leg. It merited a scream, and a sharp kick straight into her nose, and then she was no longer important either.
Hi There KK
A third running down the stairs towards a shape sticking out of a bag. That was important. Eris was promising a stand-off, and challenging her to accept it. With Alice and Irene reeling on the stairs, it's one she could win. Eris hadn't drawn yet, and if she held her up she might just freeze in her tracks.
She could pull the trigger she'd just as soon put it in one of their backs as KK's
But she would be bluffing. The gun was empty; had they noticed? Eris had noticed. She was smart enough to piece together why she hadn't shot Alice or Irene. Even if she wasn't, she might be crazy enough to risk it anyway.
I don't want to hurt anymore
And there was a voice behind her.
Too many make it stop
This was enough. Alice might be dead. Irene was beaten down. Eris was shaken. She turned on her heel and scooped up a bag by her feet, racing for the exit as fast as her shaky legs would carry her.
Why did it burn so bad
This was enough. It was a marathon, not a sprint.
How much farther could she go
They were in her territory.
How much more could she lie
((Katarina Konipaski's next target acquired.))
Eris's hands were on the gun. The weight seemed off, imbalanced, and as she fully withdrew it from the bag, she realized why.
Call her Ishmael, she supposed, adjusting her grip so that she could properly take aim. She had no intention of firing the thing, not unless she had to, and she wasn't even sure how to go about doing so right away, without having checked for a safety of any sort.
But then, Katarina couldn't fire either, could she? Eris hadn't realized before, but it clicked now that Katarina had stopped shooting right when it would have been the most successful course of action.
She knew it, Katarina knew it, and she was proven right at her rival's sudden withdrawal. Even with the appalling short-sightedness that Katarina had chosen now of all times to put on display, she knew that she couldn't take the time to attempt reloading when surrounded by the people whom she had made her enemies, not when she was now staring down the impromptu face of vigilante justice.
If she felt anything through the shock, Eris supposed that it was vindication.
In the next moment, all the strength left her body and she sat down hard on the stairs, suddenly shaking as the sounds of Katarina's retreat faded and the full gravity of everything that had just happened hit her.
"Alice," she said, trying and nearly succeeding to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Alice, Irene- hold on just a moment. I've got first-aid supplies." She had never fancied herself a nurse or a mother hen, and certainly didn't intend to assume that role for good, but she was the only one unharmed in the wake of Katarina's rampage.
Call her Ishmael, she supposed, adjusting her grip so that she could properly take aim. She had no intention of firing the thing, not unless she had to, and she wasn't even sure how to go about doing so right away, without having checked for a safety of any sort.
But then, Katarina couldn't fire either, could she? Eris hadn't realized before, but it clicked now that Katarina had stopped shooting right when it would have been the most successful course of action.
She knew it, Katarina knew it, and she was proven right at her rival's sudden withdrawal. Even with the appalling short-sightedness that Katarina had chosen now of all times to put on display, she knew that she couldn't take the time to attempt reloading when surrounded by the people whom she had made her enemies, not when she was now staring down the impromptu face of vigilante justice.
If she felt anything through the shock, Eris supposed that it was vindication.
In the next moment, all the strength left her body and she sat down hard on the stairs, suddenly shaking as the sounds of Katarina's retreat faded and the full gravity of everything that had just happened hit her.
"Alice," she said, trying and nearly succeeding to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Alice, Irene- hold on just a moment. I've got first-aid supplies." She had never fancied herself a nurse or a mother hen, and certainly didn't intend to assume that role for good, but she was the only one unharmed in the wake of Katarina's rampage.
Huh. So the axe-crazy bitch was gone.
Irene groaned, gritted her teeth. She'd heard people say that they were hurting in places they didn't even know they had, and that sorta fit, but really it didn't really it was more like she was hurt in places she didn't even know were hurt, like huh guess she'd scraped her knees somewhere in this mess, but Irene sure as hell didn't realize it until she saw the blood on them and even then she had to think for a second about whether that was just blood that had sprayed out from any of her myriad other wounds. There's the dull throb, noticeable now that her body could afford to focus on pain. Yeah, the scrapes are real, alright. And her nose was probably broken, too, though she lacked the energy to lift her hand to her face and check. She could barely work up the energy to roll over so that the concrete would stop digging into the skin on her face (which, yes, she'd only just now realized was a Thing) and even the slight effort that was necessary to reduce the pain that was flowing into her receptors left her light-headed and gasping for air, take it easy now, Irene, just take shaky breath after shaky breath, just in...out...in...out...
Eris's voice registered, but only distantly. She might as well have been actually far away, because just the thought of getting up and taking a step towards her made Irene want to close her eyes and sink into the stairs and nap, as terrible as the stairs were for taking a nap.
But there was Eris, and if she was capable of even thinking about attempting to sound calm now then the least Irene could do, the least she could do for Eris's sake, for her own sake, was to smile, was to give a half-conspiratorial half-sweet-and-supportive smile to say that everything will be okay, everything will be alright, I believe in you and the half-fulfilled but full-assed promise behind your it's-the-thought-that-counts attempt to tell me that everything will be okay.
"I-t's...I'm...I'm alright. It's...it's only a flesh wound."
That was too much, and Irene snorted, then giggled, then howled until her lungs burned and her ribs hurt--more clutter for her brain to process--and her laughter dissolved into sobs.
Irene groaned, gritted her teeth. She'd heard people say that they were hurting in places they didn't even know they had, and that sorta fit, but really it didn't really it was more like she was hurt in places she didn't even know were hurt, like huh guess she'd scraped her knees somewhere in this mess, but Irene sure as hell didn't realize it until she saw the blood on them and even then she had to think for a second about whether that was just blood that had sprayed out from any of her myriad other wounds. There's the dull throb, noticeable now that her body could afford to focus on pain. Yeah, the scrapes are real, alright. And her nose was probably broken, too, though she lacked the energy to lift her hand to her face and check. She could barely work up the energy to roll over so that the concrete would stop digging into the skin on her face (which, yes, she'd only just now realized was a Thing) and even the slight effort that was necessary to reduce the pain that was flowing into her receptors left her light-headed and gasping for air, take it easy now, Irene, just take shaky breath after shaky breath, just in...out...in...out...
Eris's voice registered, but only distantly. She might as well have been actually far away, because just the thought of getting up and taking a step towards her made Irene want to close her eyes and sink into the stairs and nap, as terrible as the stairs were for taking a nap.
But there was Eris, and if she was capable of even thinking about attempting to sound calm now then the least Irene could do, the least she could do for Eris's sake, for her own sake, was to smile, was to give a half-conspiratorial half-sweet-and-supportive smile to say that everything will be okay, everything will be alright, I believe in you and the half-fulfilled but full-assed promise behind your it's-the-thought-that-counts attempt to tell me that everything will be okay.
"I-t's...I'm...I'm alright. It's...it's only a flesh wound."
That was too much, and Irene snorted, then giggled, then howled until her lungs burned and her ribs hurt--more clutter for her brain to process--and her laughter dissolved into sobs.
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delicateMachine
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
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The fuzzy image of Irene was violently repelled by the fuzzy image of Katarina, and with that last line of defense out of the way Alice knew there was nothing stopping her from finishing them all off, taking the time to find their centers of mass instead of settling for glancing blows, from ascending the stairs once more and taking care of Eris, too; but her body and her mind were failing her and all she could do was lay there with the edge of the stair still uncomfortably jabbing the back of her aching head when
Inexplicably, Katarina left. No parting shot, no kick to the ribs. She had won, in both luck of the weapon draw and in legitimate combat, but she was still content to leave three people alive to resent her, not even crippled, not even robbed? It didn't make sense, and Alice was the type to look a gift horse in the mouth for Greeks, but for the moment she needed to pick herself back up.
She did so, and even though her head spun and she had to lean on the wall to steady herself, she kept her footing. Was she concussed? Alice's ears were ringing, but the gunfire accounted for that. She felt dizzy, but the blood loss accounted for that. Did she remember who the president was? Yes, unfortunately. Being hit in the head couldn't have done it any favors, but she was functioning again.
Alice took a moment to wiggle her right arm. Wasn't hanging limp and useless, so it looked like the tendon hadn't been hit. Small blessing. Having to do everything with her left hand would have been less than ideal. She couldn't see the wound too clearly, among the torn fabric and the blood, blood that hadn't stopped pouring, hot and vivid down her arm and staining her sweater and dripping onto the ground, and Alice felt the searing pain and the rising panic at this reminder of her own mortality, her own fragility; felt them start to take over and she inhaled. Exhaled. Repeated the motion. Kept control of her own mind.
Would it last? She didn't know, but she would take advantage of the alien numbness for as long as she could.
Alice turned. Saw Eris sitting on the stairway, ludicrous gun next to her. Put two and two together. Was impressed and grateful in equal measure. Her faith hadn't been misplaced, after all.
She was less impressed by Irene's breakdown. Alice glanced at her, then focused her attention back on the only whole person among them. "...You should probably take care of her first. Not gonna bleed to death if you make me wait a few minutes. Ideally," Alice said, less out of concern for the wailing girl and more out of hope that she'd stop screaming. Such an annoying, useless sound-
And what separated them? Was Alice's mind simply stronger than Irene's, or was her pain that much lesser? Even if it was pure mental fortitude, what right did Alice have to resent Irene for failing to keep herself under control? She'd been shot, it wasn't like it was a moral failing to be unable to handle that.
The numbness lost its comforting grip on Alice's brain, just a little, and the pain spiked through. Alice hissed sharply, clutched her arm, sank down against the wall.
Inexplicably, Katarina left. No parting shot, no kick to the ribs. She had won, in both luck of the weapon draw and in legitimate combat, but she was still content to leave three people alive to resent her, not even crippled, not even robbed? It didn't make sense, and Alice was the type to look a gift horse in the mouth for Greeks, but for the moment she needed to pick herself back up.
She did so, and even though her head spun and she had to lean on the wall to steady herself, she kept her footing. Was she concussed? Alice's ears were ringing, but the gunfire accounted for that. She felt dizzy, but the blood loss accounted for that. Did she remember who the president was? Yes, unfortunately. Being hit in the head couldn't have done it any favors, but she was functioning again.
Alice took a moment to wiggle her right arm. Wasn't hanging limp and useless, so it looked like the tendon hadn't been hit. Small blessing. Having to do everything with her left hand would have been less than ideal. She couldn't see the wound too clearly, among the torn fabric and the blood, blood that hadn't stopped pouring, hot and vivid down her arm and staining her sweater and dripping onto the ground, and Alice felt the searing pain and the rising panic at this reminder of her own mortality, her own fragility; felt them start to take over and she inhaled. Exhaled. Repeated the motion. Kept control of her own mind.
Would it last? She didn't know, but she would take advantage of the alien numbness for as long as she could.
Alice turned. Saw Eris sitting on the stairway, ludicrous gun next to her. Put two and two together. Was impressed and grateful in equal measure. Her faith hadn't been misplaced, after all.
She was less impressed by Irene's breakdown. Alice glanced at her, then focused her attention back on the only whole person among them. "...You should probably take care of her first. Not gonna bleed to death if you make me wait a few minutes. Ideally," Alice said, less out of concern for the wailing girl and more out of hope that she'd stop screaming. Such an annoying, useless sound-
And what separated them? Was Alice's mind simply stronger than Irene's, or was her pain that much lesser? Even if it was pure mental fortitude, what right did Alice have to resent Irene for failing to keep herself under control? She'd been shot, it wasn't like it was a moral failing to be unable to handle that.
The numbness lost its comforting grip on Alice's brain, just a little, and the pain spiked through. Alice hissed sharply, clutched her arm, sank down against the wall.
In between Alice's less-than-comforting reassurances and the psychotic break that Irene was evidently having, Eris closed her eyes and visualized a waterfall.
It was a trick her mom had taught her years ago, when Eris had once again been frustrated with her classmates for some juvenile transgression or another: Close your eyes, count to ten, and think of a calming scene. And don't scrunch your eyebrows so much, honey, you'll give yourself frown lines.
Eris's calming scene had always been a waterfall. She had never seen one in person before, but she could so clearly see the water pouring over its abrupt edge into the misty depths below, hear the roar drowning out everything else and muffling the sounds of reality, feel the cool spray on her face. She had never been a nature person, but that was her imaginary sanctuary all the same.
Eris breathed in the cool mist and opened her eyes, breathing out the taste of vomit still in her mouth. Her hand was a little steadier when she reached for the stairwell's railing and pulled herself to her feet. She left the harpoon gun where it was, stepping back over her puddle of vomit and the gory bits Irene had left behind to retrieve her bag. Once she reached it, she paused to comb her fingers through her hair and sweep it back up into its bun as neatly as possible, and then to gulp down some mouthfuls from one of the water bottles she had oh-so-thoughtfully been provided. Irene most likely wasn't going to bleed to death in the thirty seconds it took for her to get a drink.
A third trek back down the stairs was enough for the mess to start getting on her nerves, and Eris filed a plan to find something to mop it up with away for later review. In the present, she knelt by Irene's side. She didn't acknowledge Irene's hysterics, instead setting the open first-aid kit down and seizing the hand that was now missing fingers.
"Be still," she ordered, and began wrapping gauze around Irene's hand. She was mindful of her breathing, and did her best to envision a waterfall that wasn't running red with blood.
It was a trick her mom had taught her years ago, when Eris had once again been frustrated with her classmates for some juvenile transgression or another: Close your eyes, count to ten, and think of a calming scene. And don't scrunch your eyebrows so much, honey, you'll give yourself frown lines.
Eris's calming scene had always been a waterfall. She had never seen one in person before, but she could so clearly see the water pouring over its abrupt edge into the misty depths below, hear the roar drowning out everything else and muffling the sounds of reality, feel the cool spray on her face. She had never been a nature person, but that was her imaginary sanctuary all the same.
Eris breathed in the cool mist and opened her eyes, breathing out the taste of vomit still in her mouth. Her hand was a little steadier when she reached for the stairwell's railing and pulled herself to her feet. She left the harpoon gun where it was, stepping back over her puddle of vomit and the gory bits Irene had left behind to retrieve her bag. Once she reached it, she paused to comb her fingers through her hair and sweep it back up into its bun as neatly as possible, and then to gulp down some mouthfuls from one of the water bottles she had oh-so-thoughtfully been provided. Irene most likely wasn't going to bleed to death in the thirty seconds it took for her to get a drink.
A third trek back down the stairs was enough for the mess to start getting on her nerves, and Eris filed a plan to find something to mop it up with away for later review. In the present, she knelt by Irene's side. She didn't acknowledge Irene's hysterics, instead setting the open first-aid kit down and seizing the hand that was now missing fingers.
"Be still," she ordered, and began wrapping gauze around Irene's hand. She was mindful of her breathing, and did her best to envision a waterfall that wasn't running red with blood.
Irene hissed as Eris started wrapping up her hand, forcing herself to swallow her screaming. That was a weird way to think of it, right? But that was good, every moment spent thinking about the weirdness of that image was a moment taken away from dwelling on the pain, oh fucking god the pain, just think about how much it hurts instead of the actual pain itself, that'd do the trick, yeah. Oh, holy fuck.
"Fucking fuck. Fuck this fucking shit, this is fucking ass. Fucking shitballs. F-f-"
Irene started giggling. See? Works like a charm.
"Uh, not you, Eris. You're good. Good as fuck. Just--y'know, just stress relief. Something like that. I mean, fucking something like fucking that."
Irene snarled at a sudden flare of pain.
"Fuck, you'd think it'd take at least a little while, y'know?"
"Fucking fuck. Fuck this fucking shit, this is fucking ass. Fucking shitballs. F-f-"
Irene started giggling. See? Works like a charm.
"Uh, not you, Eris. You're good. Good as fuck. Just--y'know, just stress relief. Something like that. I mean, fucking something like fucking that."
Irene snarled at a sudden flare of pain.
"Fuck, you'd think it'd take at least a little while, y'know?"
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delicateMachine
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: void
Alice started counting the 'fucks' after Irene spat the fifth one out. Her final estimate ended up at around ten 'fuck units' over the span of about thirty seconds. One-third fuck efficiency. Not bad, but it could be optimized further. Vulgarity couldn't be quantified, but she suspected that utilizing a broader selection of profanity would subjectively reduce desensitization among most subjects. The first few had caught Alice's attention, after all; but that was quickly replaced by a vague annoyance at the repetition turning it into just another word.
How many repetitions did it take for a brain to start glazing over a word, start questioning its existence? How much did it vary per person, per phrase? She suspected that shorter words would be more susceptible to the effect, as they can be more efficiently repeated over a shorter space or time; but that was just a suspicion.
Irrelevant, but the ridiculous mental calculations beat dumbly standing around until Eris got around to bandaging her. Maybe the pain was making Alice a bit loopy, too. Not ideal. Her brain was one of the few things she had going for her.
"Bet she was hoping we'd be thinking like that. You definitely were. Easier to shrug off being ambushed by a 'hello' than a bullet," Alice said, staring at her right hand, covered in blood. Clenched it, unclenched it. Felt her own life trailing down her skin. It might have been instinctive, but she still shouldn't have clutched at the wound - who knew how long it'd been since the last time she'd actually washed her hands. Didn't need to make the chance of infection even worse.
How many repetitions did it take for a brain to start glazing over a word, start questioning its existence? How much did it vary per person, per phrase? She suspected that shorter words would be more susceptible to the effect, as they can be more efficiently repeated over a shorter space or time; but that was just a suspicion.
Irrelevant, but the ridiculous mental calculations beat dumbly standing around until Eris got around to bandaging her. Maybe the pain was making Alice a bit loopy, too. Not ideal. Her brain was one of the few things she had going for her.
"Bet she was hoping we'd be thinking like that. You definitely were. Easier to shrug off being ambushed by a 'hello' than a bullet," Alice said, staring at her right hand, covered in blood. Clenched it, unclenched it. Felt her own life trailing down her skin. It might have been instinctive, but she still shouldn't have clutched at the wound - who knew how long it'd been since the last time she'd actually washed her hands. Didn't need to make the chance of infection even worse.
Eris tried to be deaf to their voices as she worked, all the better to not think about how she could have been the one who received a bullet for a greeting, had Alice not been there first, had she not chosen to stay at the top of her tower rather than descending.
She secured the bandages and gauze around the bloodied stumps of Irene's fingers and sat back. It was only as she looked back into the first-aid kit that she realized with a prickle of irritation that she should have been using Irene's supplies instead of her own.
...Well. She could replenish her own supply from Irene's once this was done. Eris had already commandeered the harpoon gun, and while she wouldn't put it past Irene to ask for it back despite the implausibility of operating such a thing with half a hand blown off, she thought that being the only stable and uninjured person in the room made a strong argument for why she should be the one holding the sole weapon between them.
Eris wasn't sure what to do for Irene's smashed-in nose, and so settled on simply staunching the bleeding there. That taken care of, she located the antiseptic and dropped it in Irene's lap. "Here, put that on your knees," she said briskly and moved away towards Alice.
"...Are you wearing anything under that sweater?" Eris set her mouth in a line as she examined the ragged hole in Alice's sleeve. Katarina's appearance had been brief, but she had done lasting damage to both bodies and dignity.
She secured the bandages and gauze around the bloodied stumps of Irene's fingers and sat back. It was only as she looked back into the first-aid kit that she realized with a prickle of irritation that she should have been using Irene's supplies instead of her own.
...Well. She could replenish her own supply from Irene's once this was done. Eris had already commandeered the harpoon gun, and while she wouldn't put it past Irene to ask for it back despite the implausibility of operating such a thing with half a hand blown off, she thought that being the only stable and uninjured person in the room made a strong argument for why she should be the one holding the sole weapon between them.
Eris wasn't sure what to do for Irene's smashed-in nose, and so settled on simply staunching the bleeding there. That taken care of, she located the antiseptic and dropped it in Irene's lap. "Here, put that on your knees," she said briskly and moved away towards Alice.
"...Are you wearing anything under that sweater?" Eris set her mouth in a line as she examined the ragged hole in Alice's sleeve. Katarina's appearance had been brief, but she had done lasting damage to both bodies and dignity.
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delicateMachine
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: void
"Got a t-shirt, yeah," Alice said, holding out her wounded arm for Eris to examine. It was her problem for a while, even if Alice was the one who'd have to live with it. Nice to be taken care off; stressful to have her own health be someone else's responsibility.
"Should be scissors in the kit. For the sleeve." Taking her sweater off the traditional way risked irritating the wound even further, as much as it stung to further desecrate one of her favorite sweaters. Objectively the ideal shade of blue, now haphazardly spray-painted with blood. The annoyance wasn't born out of vanity - Alice couldn't care less about her appearance beyond hygienic concerns. It was just that something she liked, appreciated even; had been ruined.
Logically, that shouldn't have even registered on an emotional level when a chunk was missing from her arm. In a vacuum, though? It mattered. Alice liked vacuums. Isolating her problems made the world feel more controllable.
"Should be scissors in the kit. For the sleeve." Taking her sweater off the traditional way risked irritating the wound even further, as much as it stung to further desecrate one of her favorite sweaters. Objectively the ideal shade of blue, now haphazardly spray-painted with blood. The annoyance wasn't born out of vanity - Alice couldn't care less about her appearance beyond hygienic concerns. It was just that something she liked, appreciated even; had been ruined.
Logically, that shouldn't have even registered on an emotional level when a chunk was missing from her arm. In a vacuum, though? It mattered. Alice liked vacuums. Isolating her problems made the world feel more controllable.
Scissors, yes. Blunted and bent, meant for cutting underneath clothes and bandages. Even the fresh, unused blades of the scissors struggled to cut through the knit of Alice's sweater at first, but little by little the sleeve came off and Eris rolled it down Alice's arm.
This one was trickier to clean, with the fabric of Alice's shirt and sweater in the way and the possibility of shrapnel that she was missing, but Eris thought that she would probably live.
Probably.
If the wound didn't turn gangrenous and septic in a few days.
If something else - circumstance, illness, murder - didn't kill her before then.
Death circled the island and Night-Mare Life-In-Death claimed those upon it to have her fun before she would give them up to him. They had a harpoon gun here. Was there an albatross for them to shoot, to usher in water that would cover the island and wash them all away?
Eris blinked and realized that her mind had been wandering. She grimaced and finished securing the bandages around Alice's arm. "That should do it."
This one was trickier to clean, with the fabric of Alice's shirt and sweater in the way and the possibility of shrapnel that she was missing, but Eris thought that she would probably live.
Probably.
If the wound didn't turn gangrenous and septic in a few days.
If something else - circumstance, illness, murder - didn't kill her before then.
Death circled the island and Night-Mare Life-In-Death claimed those upon it to have her fun before she would give them up to him. They had a harpoon gun here. Was there an albatross for them to shoot, to usher in water that would cover the island and wash them all away?
Eris blinked and realized that her mind had been wandering. She grimaced and finished securing the bandages around Alice's arm. "That should do it."
So. What now?
Irene had done as she was told, good girl that she was. Her hand was...as good as it was gonna get. Alice was patched up.
So.
It's very hard to think while simultaneously making sure your gaze doesn't stray onto your severed fingers.
"Mind if I throw these out?" Irene gestured towards the fingers.
"Not much that we can use them for...like, I guess we can whip them out to like scare people or something, but really, I'd rather not."
Irene had done as she was told, good girl that she was. Her hand was...as good as it was gonna get. Alice was patched up.
So.
It's very hard to think while simultaneously making sure your gaze doesn't stray onto your severed fingers.
"Mind if I throw these out?" Irene gestured towards the fingers.
"Not much that we can use them for...like, I guess we can whip them out to like scare people or something, but really, I'd rather not."
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delicateMachine
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"Thank you." Alice nodded at Eris. No need to force a smile, or any hyperbolic displays of gratitude - they both knew the magnitude of what she had done. Alice was decently confident that, if forced, she could have bandaged up her own arm; given time and space. However, she was absolutely confident that Eris had done a better job than she ever could.
The blood on her left hand was starting to get distracting. Time to do something about it. Alice walked towards Irene's bag, only giving the girl a side-eyed glance. "Throw 'em out. Don't want anything eating them." She knelt, reached towards the bag with her bloody hand, then hesitated. No, it had to be done. Her right arm was still technically usable; but she doubted she'd have a full range of motion with it, and she didn't want to risk re-opening the wound by testing it. Irene'd just have to put up with a bit of extra blood on her belongings. It had mostly dried, anyways; she'd just have to be quick.
Alice rummaged through the bag as carefully as she could before finding a water bottle. She backed up, opened the cap with her mouth. Cleaned the blood off as well as she could. Drank the rest of the bottle, almost as an afterthought. Getting shot was bad enough without being shot and dehydrated.
The blood on her left hand was starting to get distracting. Time to do something about it. Alice walked towards Irene's bag, only giving the girl a side-eyed glance. "Throw 'em out. Don't want anything eating them." She knelt, reached towards the bag with her bloody hand, then hesitated. No, it had to be done. Her right arm was still technically usable; but she doubted she'd have a full range of motion with it, and she didn't want to risk re-opening the wound by testing it. Irene'd just have to put up with a bit of extra blood on her belongings. It had mostly dried, anyways; she'd just have to be quick.
Alice rummaged through the bag as carefully as she could before finding a water bottle. She backed up, opened the cap with her mouth. Cleaned the blood off as well as she could. Drank the rest of the bottle, almost as an afterthought. Getting shot was bad enough without being shot and dehydrated.
"Get rid of them," Eris confirmed, very deliberately not looking at Irene's fingers again. Crisis managed, she supposed.
Now what?
They had driven off an attacker and survived enough to lick their wounds. Eris hadn't stopped to look at the map in her bag, but she was aware that there was an entire expanse of land and sea outside where their classmates roamed, Katarina included. The lighthouse was sure to be a unique landmark; other people would arrive.
Eris didn't want to see to other visitors, but staking her claim to the area and dealing with people as they entered was a sight better than wandering around outside with the wild beasts. Not to mention any actual animals that might call the island home.
So she waited what she deemed an appropriate amount of time for Irene and Alice to attend to their respective needs before she asked, "What do you two plan to do now?"
Now what?
They had driven off an attacker and survived enough to lick their wounds. Eris hadn't stopped to look at the map in her bag, but she was aware that there was an entire expanse of land and sea outside where their classmates roamed, Katarina included. The lighthouse was sure to be a unique landmark; other people would arrive.
Eris didn't want to see to other visitors, but staking her claim to the area and dealing with people as they entered was a sight better than wandering around outside with the wild beasts. Not to mention any actual animals that might call the island home.
So she waited what she deemed an appropriate amount of time for Irene and Alice to attend to their respective needs before she asked, "What do you two plan to do now?"