bewaretheniceboy: (Default)
Peeta Mellark, The Baker's Boy ([personal profile] bewaretheniceboy) wrote in [community profile] sixthiterationlogs2017-04-27 09:24 pm

Don't You Fret My Dear, It'll All Be Over Soon; I'll Be Waiting Here For You

WHO: Jax Teller, Neil Mackay, Peeta Mellark, and anyone who wants to visit them, doctor them, or look after them
WHERE: The hospital
WHEN: The days after the Obscurus rampage
OPEN TO: Anyone who wants to visit the patients, anyone who's hurt, or anyone who's got any reason to be in the hospital at all. Tag each other! Mingle! Commiserate!
WARNINGS: People got hurt, so injuries and wounds, presumably blood, at least one head injury, probably nightmares, and various medical things could all crop up here
STATUS: Open (please state who the tag is for and a general idea of a timeframe in the subject line of your comment!)




The doctors in this place were as quick as they could be with limited supplies or trained personnel. Within a very short time of the smoke monster smashing through one man and slamming a few others aside, they had the injured moved into the hospital, cleaned up, and attended to as best they could. The lack of supplies and technology across the entire village was felt more in the medical field than any other, but all the members of that little group were resourceful and determined, and at least while some of the injuries had been severe no one had been on the doorstep of death. It was easier to treat a person when you were sure they would keep breathing.

Still, a lot of it had been improvised, and no one could be healed in an instant; they'd all have to do it the old-fashioned way, letting time and rest mend their wounds. Neil, Jax, and Peeta had all been placed in the same room in the hospital just to make it easier to keep tabs on them and for companionship through the night. The beds were spaced far enough apart to give some sort of privacy if the conversations were kept quiet and spare blankets had been tacked up that could be pulled back or dropped like curtains to give at least a visual barrier around the patients, but no one was far away enough from each other to not be able to talk (or listen) if they wanted to. A few chairs were available for visitors' use, though slightly rickety and not up to much punishment. All three of them would be there for a good bit, so the goal was to make their stay as comfortable as was possible.
withoutahammer: (disbelief)

[personal profile] withoutahammer 2017-05-16 06:27 am (UTC)(link)
"That's really bloody reassuring." There's a definite edge to Neil's voice- he doesn't like being out of commission, and he really doesn't like not knowing what's going on. He makes another abortive effort to sit up and falls back again, glaring at the undeserving ceiling. "How many did it get?"

There are other people in this room, but obviously he hasn't been able to see the rest. He has no idea how widespread the attack was- if it had targeted everyone in the village, or if only a few had been harmed.
ethnobotany: }{ nemesis ({ hoping you hear me)

[personal profile] ethnobotany 2017-05-20 12:36 am (UTC)(link)
Beverly can understand his frustration. She knows plenty of people who would be the exact same way in this situation. Chief among them would be Jean-Luc Picard, her friend and captain. He has never been good at being a patient with patience. And nothing will ever top having a Klingon for a patient. Were Worf here, he would likely be trying to push through it already and she would be making faces of irritation at him. But she can understand, even if she has to disapprove on principle.

“Only three,” she answers. “And no one died. All things considered, it could have been a lot worse.”