(Back to Chapter Index)
(Back to Previous Chapter)
Consequence
Ace High
Subdued calliaphone is wheeled out of the hospital tent by an awkwardly elbowed work-experience lad. Means of propulsion: wheelbarrow (straw-lined). Condition: post-anaesthesia.
Subdued calliaphone is assisted in signing the discharge register (an X, with the pen in her hand, held there by the Work Experience Lad). She'd be so proud of her penmanship, if she was more awake.
The Work Experience lad isn't sure what more he can do. He clears his throat, nervously. Adjusts a pillow under
Subdued calliaphone's head. Straightens the “nil by mouth” sign which hangs from her left foot, and re-arranges the blanket so it don't weigh too heavy on the other foot. The one with the splint and dressings.
Subdued calliaphone mumbles something unintelligible, and half-opens an eyelid. The work experience lad props against the wheelbarrow: one pair crutches, one skateboard. Hopefully not to be used together.
Subdued calliaphone has used up all her conversational ability for the moment. The work experience lad gulps and, with an apologetic hrrmph, returns to the tent.
Subdued calliaphone does not see, all around her, the boarding up of windows, the closure of the comms tent. She sleeps on, regardless.
talkydoor trips over wheel tracks in her desire to single-handedly rescue AceHigh. Barely noticing, she staggers a few steps, into the jungle and certain Failure.
spandex scowls at the pimply-skinned work experience doofus' back as she watches him return to the shit-useless medtent. “Hate them jerks” she grumbles. “And I can wheel you myself.”
spandex circles the barrow, checking that the blanket's tucked just so and nothing's apt to fall out for the trip to Dunbernarding. “And why they won't let me watch I wasn't in the way.”
Subdued calliaphone stirs. groggy and uncertain. “. . .Dex. . .?” she shifts her weight, struggling with the awkwardness of splint-and-barrow. And doesn't achieve very much.
spandex lifts her gaze to frown at the medtent again. “They're too rough and they don't 'splain things right and..” She snatches the sign off callia's foot. “S'not a doorknob!”
spandex hates the medtents as a matter of course and experience, but the stress of callia's accident and being made to kindly wait outside miss really has put her in a grumpy state.
spandex softens instantly. “Callia? You okay? Don't fuss don't move much k.” She leans over and manages a grin. “You wasted? ”
Totally 80s Kat g_rock slumps against the inside of the wall, bruised, battered, and covered in grime. He lights a smoke and tosses a nod to Callia and Dex “Ow's she doing today, love?”
Subdued calliaphone is cross-eyed, but coming round. She decides to take the advice about moving much. But hearing voices - familiar ones - she makes an effort with the whole focusing thing.“GDex..'llo. . .”
spandex leans closer. “Yeh yer completely wasted. C'mon I'm wheelin' you home.” She hoiks up the handles of the barrow, pausing to peer over at G. “Wut.”
Totally 80s Kat g_rock makes his slightly limping way over to the barrow, shoving the exhausted look aside form cheerful optimism for Callia.
Subdued calliaphone manages to get both eyes open and focussed . . . one on G one on Dex. “cigrette. . .” she says, hopefully.
Totally 80s Kat g_rock mutters something to Dex quietly, then smiles at Callia “Lookin good, 'alfpint. I'll sign your cast later, yeah?” he reaches out to give her arm a soft squeeze
Totally 80s Kat g_rock holds his cig to Callia's lips for a quick drag
spandex waits but doesn't set the barrow down. “What 'appened to you? And was' the opposite of a make-over cuz that's what you got G, christ.”
Subdued calliaphone is much revived by this medicine! She even manages a wink. Or, that might be just a random eyetwitch, s'rather hard to tell. But the look on her face as she enjoys the smoke is unequivocal.
Totally 80s Kat g_rock looks down at himself, then grins at Dex. “You mean the blood an' all that, or what's under it? Because for the one, been keeping beasties off the tent all day. F'r th'other, you know how it goes”
Totally 80s Kat g_rock adds, with a gesture around “. . .round these parts.”
spandex nods slowly, having no idea what he means. “Lessgo then, skooch,” she says, lifting her tone for callia's benefit, and glad to be finally able to do something constructive to help.
Zolotisty calls, headcocked and crouched on one of the defense walls, “You going to walk all the way, then?”
Totally 80s Kat g_rock nods and waves them off “Sorry I can;t join you, you know how it is. Show must go on!” he gestures at the preparations on the walls. Luckily, if anyone can take care of her, it'd be her.
spandex's attention snaps to the wall. “Well. . . I s'pose we could take a train. . .” A wide grin. “Too bad I can't go, like some fancypants Jokers.”
Totally 80s Kat g_rock grins and waves up to Z.
Subdued calliaphone says, “. . .train. . .” and then, faintly, “. . .driver. . .” is that a smirk? nooo, one o'them twitches, surely.
Zolotisty waggles her fingers at possibly-that's-G-it's-hard-to-tell-with-the- bloody-neon, then pingpongs her way to the ground amid piles of scrap. “Don't wear pants, Spandex, you know that.”
spandex drops her gaze to puzzle at G momentarily and then further to callia. “Wut?” This.. this inspires the barrow to be put down so she can look at callia closer. “Boyfriend?”
Zolotisty trots closer to inspect the damage with a critical eye. “Could bring you f'you want. Or train, aye.” She glances around. Or a one-shot, but, nausea.
Zolotisty straightens. Whuh?
Subdued calliaphone does not snrrk. She would if she was up to it, though. She says, simply, “. . .engine. . .” as if this explains everything.
spandex leans in. “Train driver? You smoochin' him ..her..? What engine.. driver ..engineer ..what?” She doesn't take trains and now she hears there are there hotties runnin' them?!
spandex doesn't so much jump to conclusions as drives her forehead into them repeatedly until she's bloodywell right.
Totally 80s Kat g_rock raises a brow but says not a word. He just nods as if Callia has said VERY PROFOUND THINGS.“Right. Engine.”
Zolotisty reckons it's a robot what's fused into the train and makes it go.
spandex narrows her eyes at G. He knows something.
Totally 80s Kat g_rock has rarely been accused of knowing things. Too bad he doesn't know enough to play it up. Instead, he just shrugs and flashes a laughing 'drugs, whatcha gonnado' smile at Dex's eyenarrow.
spandex doesn't buy it, and callia's not capable of explaining much at the moment either. A sigh, then, “Can you take the barrow and callia and me to Dun-b, Z?”
Zolotisty's eyes are glassy; she's mid-battle with herself about whether the robotic brainhearts of the trains are self-aware to the point they can journal mournfully about being doomed to repetition.
Zolotisty has been spending too much time with Dex, maybe. She blinks when she hears her name, peering back at her. “Wmhn. Yes. What? Aye.”
Subdued calliaphone murmurs something indistinct about . . .not throwing a casket? that can't be right. her eyes slide shut again.
Totally 80s Kat g_rock stubs out his smoke on the ground with a foot at the end of a suddenly-jelly-leg, and winks to cover it. Somehow the wink encompasses all three women present, as well as one passerby
Totally 80s Kat g_rock looks toward the door to the old hall. “You're in the very best of hands, Callia. They'll get you home safe.” he smiles at the girl, and the women, and heads for the hall without another word.
Totally 80s Kat g_rock may have tucked a smoke into Callia's pocket for when she wakes up. Maybe.
Zolotisty delicately steals callia's flat cap. She has no idea what she's just agreed to, but she looks exponentially more dapper.
spandex watches Z daze dreamily about the apparently mesmerizing train staff, and is going to make it her business to check them out as soon as she can. Research purposes only, of course. “Uh.. bye, G!”
Zolotisty looks to Dex.
spandex holds onto Z's arm and waits. “Gentle yeh? Callia's ankle's busted like yours was.”
Zolotisty peers at Dex's hand, then pats it experimentally. Dex doesn't “Oh!” Ohhh. Oh. She sidesteps to knock her leg gently into the wheelbarrow, laying her hand on callia's arm.
Zolotisty backsteps with the lot of them.
At the Bingo Hall
Zolotisty steps into the Bingo Hall with a wheelbarrow fulla broken engineer and an armful of punk. D'be a different story entirely with engines and pucks.
spandex lands still bent forward in the midst of a suspicious scrutiny. She straightens, lifts the barrow handles and wheels the injured callia to a large sofa. “Here y'go skooch ..home.”
spandex pulls back callia's blanket, unpacks a skateboard, backpack, ankle xray – which she pauses to lift to the window's sunlight – frowns, and bends forward. “Gonna move you to the sofa, k.”
spandex doesn't wait for her answer, tucking an arm each under her shoulders and knees to move callia gently to the sofa.
Subdued calliaphone, apparently unperturbed by her jorney (or maybe just drugged up some), sleeps on. peaceful-like. hatless.
Zolotisty likes this hat.
spandex retucks the blanket cozy 'round her and kisses callia's forehead. “I'ma find Bernard ..let 'im know,” she tells Z, and turns and runs upstairs.
Zolotisty settles to watchdog in Dex's absence.
spandex runs down the stairs a few minutes later, jumping over the last four. “He's asleep, again, so I pinned a note to his jacket. ..lessgo, yeh, she'll be okay jus' needs to sleep.”
Zolotisty watches Dex's boots for a long moment, considering the floor where she landed. “Aye.” She gets up, stretching. “C'we go to the pub.”
spandex bumps close, following Z's gaze back over her shoulder. “Yeh ..okay ..wasswrong?” A quick squeeze, then, “You've got callia's hat on.”
Zolotisty dodges away. Ages trying to nick this hat and she's finally got it and it's not going to be stern-eyed back onto callia's head, INVALID OR NO. “Gambling!” she says, and beelines for the door.
spandex doesn't chase, just barks, “Z!”
spandex is too late though. “I'll geddit for ya,” she reassures a sleeping callia, and rushes out the door.
Action Man Bernard is not asleep, contrary to popular belief; he's not one of those uber-freaky shysters who sleeps with his eyes open. No, he's wide-awake. Besides, his eyes only move from left to right.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd strides briskly in from her Morning Constitutional. Tsk. Someone's left an action figure on the floor, with a note pinned to its jacket.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd intends to have words with Mountjoy about tidying up the GERMans toys. She has her work cut out as it is, without a whole new crop of fractures.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd puts the action figure on the mantelpiece, and reads the note. She tsks again. A case in point! She turns to calliaphone. A new patient then? Ah well. To work! With vim & vigour.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd sets down her medical bag, and extracts a stethoscope, sphyg, thermometer, and other sundries. Hands are scrubbed, observations recorded, X-rays studied, dressings changed.
Holy Crap its a lion and its probably a bit bored. Why else would it be napping in a medical bag?
Subdued calliaphone sleeps on through it all. Sister Murgatroyd nods, satsified with this state of affairs.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd is not even slightly rattled by the discovery of a lion in her bag. She gives it a Stern Look, and returns to her ministrations.
Holy Crap its a lion and its Sternly Looked At. It sleeps on, unperturbed and snoring. It could almost be mistaken for the patient, if not for the size and weight difference. And the fur. And claws. Actually, no it couldnt.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd finds the “nil by mouth” sign in between Callia's medical notes. That won't do at all. She replaces it with lengthy prescriptions for a diet of beef tea and milk puddings, and plenty of greens.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd, while she's at it, writes another prescription. This one for the lion. It appears to be an exercise regime, to counter slothfulness.
Holy Crap its a lion and its been prescribed an exercise regime? Ah well. Itll have to up its sneakiness quota in the near future. For now, more snores
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd adds a note about regular steam inhalations, for that nasal congestion. And recommends an appointment with an ENT specialist. Dr Paprika will write the referral letter, if the lion makes an appt.
Holy Crap its a lion and its going to be rather confused about all these prescriptions and notes from the nurse when it wakes up.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd props Callia's ankle on a pillow, making sure the splint is properly secured. She tucks the blankets round the patient to prevent any escape. Not that
Subdued calliaphone is going anywhere fast. But
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd is intent on keeping it that way, until the cast is in place, at least.
Subdued calliaphone stirs drowsily, perhaps in protest. She is never, even at the best of times, a tidy sleeper.
Holy Crap its a lion and its found a better nest for itself than Sister Murgatroyds bag. Its now snoring contentedly, curled up next to calliaphone.
Subdued calliaphone also seems contented with this state of affairs. She settles back into quiet slumber, alongside her new soft toy. Her 45o lb soft toy. Lucky girl.
Sister Penelope Anne Murgatroyd gives the lion an Even Sterner Look, just so it knows she's Keeping Her Eye On It. But she has other patients to attend to. Bag packed, she straightens her cloak, and sweeps briskly out.
Grand Master Badass of Rage Wongo the Sane stops in confusion. Holy Crap! It's a lion and it's. . . asleep next to calliaphone? Well, she does hang around with some interesting people. . .
(Forward to Next Chapter)
(Back to Previous Chapter)
(Back to Chapter Index)