wolfishsurvivalist | ✖ anxiety attack: 004 ✖

✖ anxiety attack: 004 ✖

[A. 339 Brady Lane]

[It's a lovely Saturday; the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and Mika Whitepaws is holding a box addressed to her! What is it? What could it be? She turns it over in her hands, looking surprised, then shakes it a little to see if she can hear anything rattling inside. No, the box makes no noise, and it's small and lightweight. Her thick brows furrowing, she unwraps the parcel to see what could possibly be inside.]

What the...?

[She reaches inside to pull out a photo of herself, only to let out a strangled sound before collapsing to the ground in a boneless heap. Mika's body seems to waste away until her muscle and bones jut painfully against her skin, half of her hair fading to a stark white around her face as her pointed ears seem to push up through the frizzy mass of hair. Her tail is limp as it flops against the porch, but thankfully Mika does seem to be breathing, the photo still clutched tightly in her hand.

When she finally wakes up, groggy and bleary-eyed, she lets out a canine whine as she gingerly pushes herself onto her hands and knees, her dull claws scraping against the cement. Her breathing is labored, a soft rasp in her voice like she's struggling for air.

Mika Whitepaws is no longer human, and unfortunately her real body is still recovering from a few nearly fatal wounds.]

[B. Phone]

A-ahh, um... [Her voice rasps, and she turns her head away from the phone as she coughs into her elbow before trying again.]

Does anyone know how long someone should rest after they've been shot? I mean, like, after being released from the hospital. How much rest should they get or whatever? And um. Is there any skin care or anything for scars? Any special kind of treatment or something if the wound feels a little funny?

It's...a hypothetical question. Sort of.

[Mika would be much more believable if she wasn't such a horrible liar and didn't keep dissolving into mild coughing fits. Sighing heavily, she gives up and admits to defeat.]

Also I don't know if I'll make it into work today. Sorry, but my leg's bothering me and walking's exhausting.

((ooc: Also pls to be seeing her permissions post just in case!))

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[She tries the handle, poking her head inside before stepping in and closing the door quietly behind her. If she was surprised to see Mika's changed appearance, she said nothing, instead placing everything she'd brought with her onto the coffee table.]

I need a bowl to put the peroxide and the water in. All of the houses are set up the same, right?

[She doesn't wait for an answer, instead leaving the room and going to gather a clean towel and the bowls, before returning to the living room.]

Let's have a look. I'll help you however you need, you just tell me; don't strain yourself.

I have no idea, really.

[She does tell Riza where the bowls are, gesturing with her hand, her long claws making her hands look even thinner. Only Riza had already left the room, whoops. Mika huffs, letting her hand fall to her lap again.]

All right, lemme sit up a bit.

[Wincing as she pushed herself into an upright position, she started to untie the apron.]

They tried to take out my vitals when they shot me, but I was moving enough that they missed killing me. Still, I have a lot of old scars, it should be easy to tell those from the new ones.

[Hawkeye gingerly helps with the ties, shaking her head slightly at the sight of the wounds.]

At least they had poor aim. It's a good thing you were moving.

[She reaches into the bag of supplies, pulling out a small bottle of pills.]

Painkillers. Don't go waving them about, I'd rather nobody figure out I took them. You look like you might need one now, before I start cleaning..

ooc: I don't know how bad the wounds are; should I assume the fall kind of re-opened them a bit? X_x; ]

Yeah, I know I got lucky. And trust me, I am not going to start blabbing about that.

[She accepts the bottle, carefully taking a small dose before putting the bottle on the coffee table.

With her nurse's dress out of the way, her collection of scars are almost fully visible. Her right side is pocked with either bites from monstrously large jaws or more bullet wounds, old and glossy save for two fresh-looking marks that are beading with fresh blood. The scars on her throat look irritated but are still closed.]

[She frowns at the sight of the scars, opening the cap of the sterile water and the peroxide, setting them aside. She opened several packages of gauze, calculating whether or not doing all of this in this order actually maintained the sterile field. Finally, assured that she'd done everything in the proper order, she put on sterile gloves she'd taken.]

The peroxide will sting, but I'll try to be quick.

[And she kept her promise as best she could; she gently swiped clean the wound with peroxide first and then with the sterile water, before gently pressing clean, dry gauze and taping it in place. Finished, she surveyed her handiwork with a sigh.]

I need more practice...but this should do.

[Finished, she peeled off the gloves and cleaned up the supplies, leaving the table clean.]

Eh, peroxide is fine. I'll live.

[The peroxide stung less than the air hitting the fresh wounds had, and Mika hardly flinched. She did let out a low grumbling sound, her eyes going mostly shut until the gauze was taped on. Ears flicking forward, she peered at her fresh bandages as her tail thumped lightly against the couch cushions.]

Thanks, Riza. I feel better now that they're cleaned. I'm probably going to need to start collecting medical supplies, considering how accident prone I am.

[She sat back, folding her hands.]

It's easy enough to get supplies. They paid me no mind whatsoever, and would probably not even look in your direction if you were in uniform.

[Speaking of being in uniform...]

I told the charge nurse you were unwell, and she said to take care of yourself. I'm going to go in as soon as you're settled here.

[Last, she looked at the pajamas she brought.] I have no idea if these will fit you at all, but when you said your clothes didn't fit I thought it couldn't hurt.

Ohhh, that should be nice, then. I don't want to rob the hospital or anything, but I don't know if I'd be able to get the supplies in a regular shop.

[Her tail wags with a little excitement, and Mika looks quietly happy.]

Thanks, Riza. All my stuff is super huge on me now, and nothing fits my tail. I think after this I'm going to have to go in and get everything fitted or something.

I doubt you'll be able to get enough to keep these properly cleaned and sterile, and that is assuming you can find it. Though you can probably find simple first aid supplies easily.

[She hands Mika the pajamas, frowning. She was a small woman herself, but she was still not sure if they'd fit.]

Most likely. I'm not good at sewing, so I wouldn't be much help in tailoring clothes..

Probably. Well, hopefully they won't miss the supplies I'll be pilfering.

[Mika peers at Riza's pjs, thinking carefully. Her biggest problem was even with the sudden weight loss, she had wide hips and a tail to contend with. It made things difficult.]

Yeah, I'm awful at it too. I'll probably just have to attack everything with some safety pins until I can get help.

I doubt they will.

[Hawkeye shrugs sheepishly.]

I apologize. These were the only thing I had that I thought would be easy to get over your head without pulling at the wounds. I know how unpleasant that can be, so they button as well if it's easier to slide them on.

[She'd made her clothing decision carefully!]

It's okay, I'm really glad you thought of it. I kind of wish they made t-shirts and stuff, but I don't think I'd be able to get anything like that.

[She's slow to pull on the pajama top, mostly because she hurts all over as her mind is overwhelmed by the sudden sensations of pain. Wincing a little, she manages to get her arms into the sleeves without too much trouble, and slowly begins to button it up.

You may be able to find something similar to a t-shirt, but it would probably be a men's undershirt here.

But for now, you just need to rest. [She watches Mika slip the shirt on, tempted to offer assistance, but hesitating.]

As long as it's comfortable and doesn't itch, I probably won't care.

I will. Heck, just getting inside and onto the couch practically put me out.

[Still, she looks rather proud of herself once she finishes buttoning the shirt. Awww yiss.]

You wouldn't, but it might be difficult for you to buy for yourself with the gender stereotyping here.

[She nods, finding herself smiling at Mika's success, though just slightly.]

You'll probably need a few days off to recover, as well.

I could always say I'm shopping for my husband. That's kind of a common thing sometimes.

[She snorts, her ears drooping.]

Yeah, probably. At least to get completely used to my body again. This is so weird.

[She chuckles at the comment of shopping for her husband.] Very funny. Someone who does the home assignments in Mayfield has a rather cruel sense of humor.

[She pauses, hesitating, before continuing on.] I can imagine that the least of your concerns are the wounds..

Eh, Quinn's at least tolerable, but I sleep on the couch for a reason.

[She snorts, wrinkling her nose a bit.]

Well, I'm going to have to live with this meatsack for the rest of my life. As long as nothing goes septic, I figure I'll be doing a fantastic job.

Ah. Mr. Horse--Hol--has been very kind, actually.

[Don't worry, Hawkeye is thinking much more about how her not!husband's last name is Horse. There had to be irony there somewhere.]

I should hope nothing goes septic. I'm not certain the hospital here is equipped to handle septic shock.

Mister Horse-Hol?

[Mika has to grin, her tail wagging as she tries not to laugh a little.

For that brief moment before the horror of the concept of her going into septic shock actually sinks in.]

Oh God, I hope I didn't jinx myself.

He insists I call him Hol, but the habit of a addressing people by their last name is hard to break.

[After a moment, she shakes her head.]

No, I didn't mean that you were likely to go into shock at all. Those wounds are really far too healed by now to be at risk of that.

I can understand that.

[At that, she visibly slumps with relief.]

Oh thank God. That would be the worst icing on the failure of a cake that is my life.

[Hawkeye visibly pauses, the gears turning. She still struggles with the different slang terms that people use here, and it takes her a moment to realize exactly what Mika meant.]

Ah...well, there is no risk of that..

Oh, I don't know. With the way things always manage to fail in the most spectacular way possible for me, I wouldn't put it past it.

If you expect failure like that, you're really just asking for it.

[She shrugs slightly.]

It would serve you much better to try and be a bit more positive about the situation. I've just found that expecting failure tends to lead directly to it.

[Action]

notlikethemovie.livejournal.com - 2011-08-05 17:44 (UTC) - Expand

[Action] I has late -_- sorry

snipingmissy.livejournal.com - 2011-08-11 20:05 (UTC) - Expand

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✖ anxiety attack: 004 ✖

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[Action] I has late -_- sorry