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✖ anxiety attack: 004 ✖
Jul. 23rd, 2011 01:18 pm[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!))
[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!))