destinystrings | Farewell Happy Fields!

Farewell Happy Fields!

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What: Aftermath of Anoli Attack: Hospital
Where: Leo Ward - Caduceus Hospital Headquarters
Summary: It is the aftermath of the Anoli attack on the Closing Ceremonies. The injured have been taken to Caduceus Hospital Headquarters, and it is time for reflection, visting, or old-fashioned escapes from the hospital rooms.
Warnings: Mild squick if people want to describe their wounds in explicit detail.

Caduceus Hospital Headquarters. It has a distinguished history within Hinoto-Ri, boasting of a staff of well-trained Healers, as well as possessing the most cutting edge medical technology possible. There was no limb they couldn't reattach, no organ they couldn't replace... - they even claimed to be able to bring someone back from the dead (with the small disclaimer that it could only occur under certain conditions and with an obscene amount of luck).

So needless to say, the hospital was more than well-equipped to deal with the aftermath of the Anoli attack on the Closing Ceremonies.

---

Nearly every hospital bed had been filled by an injured patient that night. The A&E room had been in constant chaos, with civilians crying and shouting, searching for loved ones, or demanding to see doctors or healers to help so-and-so...

There had also been plenty of reporters milling about, shouting and crying over the status of the Mayor's Secretary, and whether the Red Lion had really died at the scene, or if he was still alive and well within the safety of the hospital's ICU.

By the time morning broke, there was a false sense of tranquillity within the hospital. The healers had been pushed to their limits with the sheer number of patients being wheeled in and out of surgery, but otherwise, the situation had finally gotten under control. Now, both civilians and visitors were merely waiting for word of the conditions of their injured friends and family...

[Welcome to the winding down of the event! You are now at the hospital, where you may be visiting the injured, or be one of the injured yourself! Those with RED injuries will be in the ICU, and those with YELLOW injures will be in normal wards, for obvious reasons. Those with GREEN injuries wouldn't have had to go to the hospital at all, so they are free to come and go as they wish!

You may all start your threads and mingle!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The first thing Minato notices as he drifts back to consciousness is laughter, and it feels all wrong. Laughter shouldn't send a shiver down his spine (followed by a grimace as he is still very sore all over and shivering does him no favors), but this laughter does and that along with the feeling of fingers on his arm draws him more fully into wakefulness. He hopes it's just a fragment of dream. But when he opens his eyes, it's very clear it is not.

He doesn't recognize the face sneering overhead (and he isn't helped by the way his vision blurs and swims), but the voice he does, and his eyes widen in surprise. The fingers trail up, and he tries to squirm away, but movement still hurts and is sluggish and besides, there is nowhere for him to move to anyway. Although he is a little slow to piece together the words she is saying, enough of how she's saying them turns his surprise into a glare, and his fingers clench into fists.

"Wh-what... why -- Geneva?"

He isn't very good at getting words out particularly coherently, but she'll probably get what he means anyway - 'what the hell' and 'why hasn't someone punched you in the face yet'. And in any case, the words themselves aren't important - it's not like mere words will stop her from doing whatever she's come here to do.

Edited 2013-01-30 03:59 (UTC)

"Sssh." She raises a finger to her lips, almost mocking. "Don't talk. I told you why I'm here: to see the work my mark has left. Just paying you a visit, dear one. Nothing more. If you're worried I will harm you, you are silly to worry. I make it a rule to not violate the sanctity of these halls. Death is beautiful, and I will not destroy the work being done here. It would be wrong of me to tip the scales. I even left you a card." She gestures to his bedside table, where a sealed envelope lies, held in place by a letter opener. "You are welcome to share it with your sister and your friends when they return."

Yes, she had found out about a few things during her search.

His eyes follow her gesture to the sealed envelope and the letter opener, but they don't linger long before snapping back up to her. He doesn't want to let her out of his sight, regardless of what she says about it being wrong of her to tip the scales. It's still hard to really focus on her, however, or to fully comprehend what she's saying. It doesn't help that just paying him a visit doesn't make much sense anyway. One thing he does fully catch, though.

"'m not your 'dear one.'"

There's an almost bitter laugh from her at that. It's almost sad for a moment.

"No," she says. "You're really not. You're not very 'dear' to me at all. We can both agree on that."

Edited 2013-01-30 08:04 (UTC)

". . ."

He winds up just kind of staring at her for a moment.

"What's... your problem?"

She smiles, running a hand along the bedside. "Are you trying to be snarky, dear one, or are you just trying to play therapist? I'm not sure which. and I don't think you'd be much good at either if you could be any more lucid than you are."

Edited 2013-01-30 09:45 (UTC)

It takes him a few extra moments to parse all that in his foggy brain, but in the end he answers, "Snarky therapist..."

He's not entirely sure why except that it seems a fitting answer, and maybe she'll tell him something useful. Or maybe not.

She laughs. It sounds genuine, but who knows her emotions on the matter.

"A word of advice then, dear one: I'd be careful about trying to lend a sympathetic ear to someone who thinks you'd be prettier if you were a corpse in a casket."

He blinks slowly and tries not to shiver at her laugh, as much because he doesn't want her to see it as because shivering hurts his still-sore-and-healing muscles. He doesn't want to be sympathetic to her. He doesn't want to be her therapist. But ... even so, knowing a bit about what makes her tick would be useful. Maybe. But she still sets him on edge - at least as much as he can be on edge in the state he's in. This perhaps leads to mistakes.

"Been there, done that," he mumbles.

But why make mistakes so early in the game? Let the chase drag on, if they are so insistent on catching her as she is with watching the progress of her still-living corpses.

"Have you now?" she walks away from his bedside, glancing towards the window with a deepening smirk that's sharp at its edges. "How lucky I am, to have such an experienced partner for my work."

He makes no answer to that but simply watches her stalk around the room. What more is there to do? And besides, despite his desire to sit up and press the nurse call button or call his persona or do something to stop her or at least punch her in the face, he feels himself growing heavier and sleepier, and it's very hard to do more than just focus on her.

Farewell Happy Fields!

[48 hours remain]

[You Shouldn't Have Done That]

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