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Evil Dead
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Ranger Center - Prison Infirmary [south, east]
Set in the stifling, pulsing glow of the wavering overhead fluorescent lights
attached to its ceiling, the Ranger Center Infirmary has been adapted somewhat
since its original introduction into the prison, as can be seen from the
tell-tale signs. Flickering, static-filled monitors are strewn throughout the
area, and the slumped over, monumental figure of the makeshift cloning vats
loom in the background. Chalky, cracked tiles form the walls of the expanded
area, and, in the center of it all rests a cold, steel operating table; the
shimmering and shaking lights casting off of the dulled, blackened shades of
crimson permanently etched on its surface. Over it all, the high-pitched whine
of running machinery is audible, along with the occasional consuming groan of
pain from within the rows of occupied cots strewn away from the main table. The
cots, apparently, are filled with the Ranger operatives or allies that have
been dragged in from the hostile wastes. Seemingly completing the picture are
the forms of two men, obviously in charge and supervising all that is currently
being done. Not only the patients, but the technical apparatus as well.
Robert Aage the Pharmacist
Doc Krueger the Chief Surgeon.
Solidus
Rylen
Trujillo
Looking around as he enters the room with the Doc, Solidus gets a b
it queazy, looking upon the body of the boy he helped bring in earlier. Looking toward
Rylen, Solidus says, "When I got him in here, he was wearing a bullet-proof
vest, which was unusual. It's over there on the table if you want to examine it
later. It has a lot of large-caliber holes in it, which means this boy might
have been in a bit of a skirmish."
Rylen nods and slips on a surgical mask, a surgical cap and washes his hands
quickly before slipping on a pair of gloves, "Do the same," he tells Solidus
before heading along to the kid.. ok, the vest should have prevented most of
the bullet entry, but it didn't mean he was safe. Rylen glances the unconscious
man over quickly, "one bullet wound in the side, and various bruises from the
impact..possible broken rib, abbrasions to the face.." he shakes his head and
goes for the cabinet to gather supplies.
Following Rylen's lead, Solidus also puts on a surgical mask, cap,
and washes his hands thorougly but quickly before slipping on gloves. Looking toward the
body again, Solidus says in a low voice, "This is the first time I've ever
gotten this close to the wounded and known I had to help work on them. I'm a
bit nervous, doc." Watching as Rylen gathers the supplies, Solidus girds
himself, getting ready for anything."
Rylen hands Solidus a few bags, IV drip bag, some sterile gauze bags, and some
IV cords, "Put the IV on the hook there, and attach the drip hose to the actual
bag.. don't break the small red tab on the end though. Do what I say and
everything will be fine," The doctor comments, getting an IV needle out of a
bag and using the injured's musular build to his advantage, finding a vein just
by sight and inserting the needle into the skin, then taping it down quickly
and screwing it into the opposite end of the IV cord.
Putting the IV on the hook, Solidus carefully attaches the drip hoe
s to the IV bag, making painstakingly sure not to break the small red tab, as per the
doctor's orders. Looking back, Solidus then says, "Ok, the IV drip bag is in
place. What do I do with these other bags, sir?"
Soundlessly, a tall, heavily-tattooed figure leans back, doorframe tracing
along his black-inked spine as he makes himself comfortable. His posture, the
easy way his broad shoulders fan against wall and door, the way his arms fold
across his bare, well-muscled chest, even the casual manner with which one
ankle crosses over the other, a single boot heel taking the majority of his
weight, would seem to indicate he'd been there for hours- and yet, he wasn't
there as recently as a minute ago, of this, there can be no doubt. Still in
silence, he watches the two men work on the third, dead grey eyes taking in the
scene, black-smeared lips curling into a cruel little smile that sends the
skull painted across his face into an almost obscene, mad leer.
Rylen looks back to Solidus, "Leave them for now... go to that machine over
there." he gestures with his head to the suction machine that is used to syphon
the blood and liquid out of a surgical site. He doesn't see the man in the
doorframe, he's too busy in his work brushing betazine over the wound and then
grabbing a syringe and injecting a premade mix of pain killer, anethstic, and
antibiotic into the IV after breaking the tab that allows the drip to activate.
Looking at the machine that Rylen pointed to, Solidus walks to the machine,then moves it toward the operating table, waiting for further instructions.
Rylen nods to solidus, "Turn on the machine and grab the little endtube...there should be a box with sterile wands in there that you fit over theend, put one of those and then turn it on, and be ready to suck up the bloodthat's going to flow when I cut this guy open." Rylen uses his booted foot toturn on a light over the operating table that shines brightly down onto the manand Rylen's work.. he waits for Solidus.
Looking toward the unconscious body once again, Solidus gulps and turns on the machine, then finds one of the sterile wands and fits it over the end of thetube. Looking toward the doc again, he says, "Ok doc, I'm ready when you are..."
Rylen nods and picking up a scalpel and smirking under his mask as he looks to Solidus, "Don't worry." With the end of the scalpel the doctor cuts the skin and muscle, looking into the wound with the aid of the bright light. "Ok.... it looks like it just got muscle, I don't see any other kind of fluid besides blood. Either this guy is extremly lucky, or he's got tiny organs." He motions
with his bloody gloved hand to solidus, "Suction."
''ere's a sound ya just don't forget...' comes a voice from near the door, as the scalpel parts skin and muscle... a voice neither wholely sensual purr nor feral growl, and yet, containing elements of each, and of something far, fardarker...
Keeping his mind occupied with thoughts other than this boy being cut open, Solidus uses the hose to suck up all the blood oozing from the incision the Doctor made, listening for when the Doc wants him to back off. Suddenly, hehears a voice he didn't hear earlier, and looks toward the door for a briefmoment before returning to suctioning the blood.
Rylen grabs a pair of forceps and takes hold of the bullet...he wiggles gently,seeing it's not embedded and withdraws it from the muscle. "Suction," he tells Solidus again as he picks up a coagulant stim and injects it into four points around the wound and sets it back onto the table still half full. Hearing the voice, Rylen turns and looks at the man who is in the room, "You're right...you don't forget that." he tells him, not exactly sure why he's here, but he can'tdo much about it now. "Listen, sir, can you do us, and this man, a huge favorand grab a couple of packets of O blood out of the fridge there?" He nods with his head to the steel fridge near the wall. Rylen doesn't expect him to comply,but things would be easier if he did.
Looking at the wound again, Solidus continues to suck up the blood with thehose, making sure not to make any contact with the incision area as he works around. While sucking up the blood, Solidus also continues to listen for thedoc to tell him when to stop.
Rylen goes back to his work, listening over his shoulder for the sound of the fridge, or to be told off. He picks up a small packet of surgical prethreaded surgical needles and tears it open, taking one of the 5 needles. "Now the fun part," he mumbles to Solidus, taking hold of the muscle in his hands and holding it together... "Use your right hand, and hold this side together, like that." He shows him, and then removes his right hand, ready to begin to sew.
Trujillo lets slip a low chuckle, a hollow, mirthless sound, somehow funereal in the sheer blackness of the warped cousin to humor that informs it. Moving with a sort of easy grace that transcends classification as merely feline, he slips away from the wall and over towards the refrigeration unit, somehow making no noise whatsoever as his heavy, armored boots contact the concrete floor. Opening the door to the unit with his corpse-colored, black-taloned left hand, he leans forward, his posture a touch mocking, that of an epicure pondering which delectable bite to sample from a party tray next. After a moment, his right had reaches in, and then withdraws several pouches of O blood. He turns, casually swinging the door shut with an easy flick of the wrist, and glides over to the operating table, blood in hand, the smirk on his painted face betraying a growing amusement with the entire situation.
Feeling himself tense up a bit, Solidus draws his mind back to something not quite as gruesome, and does as the doctor instructs, holding the side together with his hand as he watches the doc sew.
Rylen finishes the first stich with no problem and glances to the man who has the blood, "Thanks, can you just set it on the table there." He gestures with a bloody gloved hand, and cuts the first stitch off and set the needle in astainless steel tray. The doctor picks up another needle and repeats the sewingoperation, his eyes narrowing in concentration, his hand tilting slightly to
keep the striation of the muscle as accurate as possible.
Watching the Doctor sew up the patient's muscle tissue, Solidus begins to have a newfound respect for his profession, and for the grace with which he works.Feeling that he is no longer squeamish now, Solidus continues to watch as heholds the muscle tissue for as long as it takes to get it sewn up.
'But o'course...' purrs the ghoulish figure, voice the whisper of velvet drawnslowly over wet bone, and he tosses the pouches to the table one at a time,one... two... three... Oddly, the fourth pouch, he makes no effort to relieve himself of, still holding it idly, almost forgotten, in his right hand as helooms over the operating table. He's looking down at the wounded youth, but it isn't concern that flickers in his eyes- rather, a vaguely predatory light, acertain wolfish hunger. He sniffs the air, drawing in the scent of blood and copper, and sighs softly, as if savoring the bouquet of a fine wine...
Rylen within a few minutes, the entire muscle is sewn together, the needlesused are in the tray at the edge of the table. Another bag of surgical needles is opened up, and he sets them aside for now infavor of another IV needle.Wiping his hands on a sterile cloth, Rylen picks up the needle and inserts it into the man's arm about 4 inches from the IV tube on a different vein and hooks the bag to a cord and a cord to the needle..taping it down, the bag isset up next to the IV. He realizes that the stranger has another bag of blood, but doesn't care right now- he figures from the look of him he's thirsty.
Looking back at the man for just a brief moment, Solidus finds himself a bit frightened by his face, covered with black and white skull facepaint. Wondering what his true intent is but not wanting to start anything within the infirmary, Solidus keeps to himself and focuses on helping the doc get this patient fixed up quickly.
Rylen grabs the needles and begins to sew up the skin, his icey blue gaze againdeep in concentration as he inserts the needle and works it through, pulling itout the other side and snipping off the metal portion before knoting it tightly and resuming the tedious process once more.
Fingertips drumming an idle tattoo on the thick mylar of the blood pouch heldin his right hand, Trujillo lets slip a wordless purring sound, seemingly inapproval of Dr. Grey's stitching. Oddly, it seems as if the ganger, whose many nicknames include such colorful sobriquets as Deathwalker and Corpsemaker, actually knows what he's watching for. Eerily so, in fact.
Watching the meticulous stitching the doc is performing, Solidus wonders tohimself how long the patient will be unconscious, and when would be a good timeto ask a few questions as to what happened to him. Hearing the purring of the man behind him, Solidus tries to tune him out for a bit to keep himself calm.
Rylen as he finishes up the sewing, he looks to Solidus, "You can turn that off now." Rylen picks up another bag of blood and hooks it to the now." Rylen picks up another bag of blood and hooks it to the main blood line, making short work of the other two that join the first on the rack, "Far as the rest of his body...only thing we can do is let him heal...well, except for this." Rylen pulls out a gauze pad, dousing it with betadine and rubbing itover the wound, to clean it, then applies another pad of gauze and tapes it down. "Thank you for your help," The doctor tells Tru, offering him a nod.. he had nerves of steel, having to deal with blood, bodies, homsexual gangers, he developed a slight detatchment...though this guy did unnerve him a bit.
Cracking a slight smirk, Solidus moves toward the machine and switches it off,then winds the hose back up so as to get it out of the way. Looking back at theman again, Solidus tries to keep silent and not do something that would provokehim...as he does not know who he is.
Trujillo rolls his muscular shoulders in a small, largely indifferent shrug in response to the thanks, soulless grey eyes still drifting over the form of the unconscious young man. He makes no effort to look up, no attempt to establish eye contact, and yet it's somehow clear that he is perfectly aware of every nuance of his surroundings, and simply doesn't consider them worth his attention. The distance even makes its way into his voice, adding an almost unearthly undercurrent to the already disconcerting tone. 'Didn't help anyone... just prolonged the struggle a bit,' he mrrs, a fey hint of dark amusement just curling around his words as the sentence trails off. Finally, he exhales a lingering sigh, sounding almost disappointed with something, and now, he does look up. Black-painted lips slipping further smirkward, his right hand raises the pouch of blood more clearly into view, and he growls, mockingly, 'Render unto Caesar that with is Caesar's, mmm?'
Rylen removes his mask and cap, tossing them into a trash with his blood soaked gloves.. he looks back to Tru, who seems a bit too occupied with the man'sbody, but he doesn't tell him anything. There were a few people like Tru that he's met in his time, disturbed and uneasy to be around...he sees the blood in his hand again and shrugs his shoulders. A single pouch of blood wasn't goingto cripple them, let him have it. "Well, the emperor gets what he wants."
'Mmm...' purrs the demonic Badlander in response, a long, drawn sound that canonly be described as slithering from his throat like some auditory serpent,most likely as venomous as its master. 'Yes, he does, at that,' he adds with afaint whisper of throaty pseudo-laughter, smooth and low and the sort of soundthat worms its way under the listener's skin and leaves a feeling of etherealoiliness in its wake. 'Well now... if ya'll 'scuse me, I think I've satisfied my curiousity as ta the source o'that delectable scent o'copper an' life...I'll be takin' my leave.' Without waiting for further response, he begins tostride toward the door, heavy boots again making no sound as he walks, lending his very presence an uneasily ghostlike, surreal quality.
Rylen steps to the side, nodding to Tru as he passes by him. He was relieved,to be honest, that there wasn't an all out battle here like there always seemto be when people get tense..he glanced back to Sto be when people get tense..he glanced back to Solidus who seemed to be tooscared to move from his spot, and Rylen shrugs his shoulder and goes back aboutcleaning up the operating room like nothing ever happened, wondering what hew as going to put in the blood count file. 'Used?' 'stolen?' 'Missing?' 'Acocktail?' he passed it off and looked to Solidus, "Dunno... but least he didn't cause a scene."
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