[from here and for Utena and Tear!]The Digimon moved into the hall, blades suitably settled around her form and within the black jacket worn. The bladed knuckle shown on her hand, but otherwise the Digimon seemed unharmed--the belt she had procured from the town hidden somewhat under the flaps of the jacket, filled with scalpels, knives and other blades
( ... )
[from here]There was a girl doing a round of first aid on herself in the hallway. No one he knew, but she wasn't moving as well as she was pretending to
( ... )
[From here.]Being mobile with a stack of pens in her garter belt felt ridiculous, and every part of Tear hoped she would procure something more appropriate. The problem, as always, was the actual find. She had several ideas on where to go and what to look in, but those were nothing more than risks. There existed no guarantees. It was almost a pity Aguilar had only offered his drugs the night before
( ... )
...There was a part of the Digimon that wondered if tonight was a bad night to go out. If two random strangers offered advice and aid, perhaps she was worse off than she had thought.
She had barely made any movements when the man approached her, dropped a handful of pills into her hand and gave precise explanations before walking off. She hadn't the time to respond, let alone doubt or second guess the motive, before he had slipped around into a hall. She stared after him a moment, then looked down to her hand. Was it any different, really, than what she might have done at one point? "Don't get yourself killed." She had practically said a variation of that this morning, and before to those she had helped acclimate
( ... )
Sometimes Tear had to wonder if people enjoyed skirting the line between wellness and pain. Took pleasure in pushing past their limits for the sake of an unknown reason. Pride, perhaps. If this had been Luke or anyone under her employ, she would have drawn out an exasperated sigh and chastized until they opted to change their minds. Here, she had manners to consider.
To an extent. The medic part of her was afraid the injury was severe, and that the bandage was literally the only thing keeping that area together. If the fear proved to be fact, she may set aside propriety for the sake of another. And yes, that made perfect sense.
For now, however, it might do her well to keep watch and throw out the proper warnings. "Are you sure? It might not be simple to redress the injury if it isn't healed," she raised. "If you also feel pain from any movement in the area, it might not be ready."
If she felt any pain. That was a guarantee. She looked down at the dressing, eyes angled as if in suspicion. There was a part of her that did deem it necessary, that knowing what went on within her body, despite it not being her actual body was something to prioritize. There was also logic to ground against, the girl's words calling as simple truth.
Her fingertips slid away from the edge of it, and instead flattened out over the area, palm pressing against it. She raised an eyebrow at the girl. "You sound as if you know what you're talking about."
Tear nearly sighed in relief as the woman ceased further activity. Anything more, and she might have had to offer aid with nothing but pens and a faulty Holy Song, an end the Melodist did not want to consider. She could be grateful, then, that the other was willing to listen to her, even for this moment.
"Ah, I've served as a healer for some time." Still did, in fact, but the title was no longer a formality. "I apologize for distrupting you; it's an old habit of mine." Noting the injured and approaching them were actions that came naturally, even in the darkest of hallways.
Saying healer generally meant an ability rather than training of a sort. Renamon had come to know a few healers here, though each had had a different way of doing so. "It's no problem," the Digimon said quietly. "It goes against what you are, I suppose."
She had a sudden urge to warn this girl about the chapel, if one was to talk of going against actual healing. Instead Renamon gave into her curiosity. "What kind of healer are you?" An elaboration, perhaps. "How do you use it?"
One would have assumed staying around to answer a question when one had tasks to accomplish was foolhardy at best. Tear, however, decided it was a fair trade for her intrusion. The teenager nodded at the statement before turning entirely to the set of queries.
There existed several ways to extrapolate, but she opted for the most simple. The most basic. "I'm what is called a Seventh Fonist in my world," she began. "Seventh Fonists can control a type of particle we call the Seventh Fonon, or the fonon of sound. This ability allows us to heal others." She smiled faintly. "I'm also trained in basic, hands-on medicine, which is useful for this place."
None of the terms were familiar, but the girl gave that by itself by mentioning worlds. If nothing, then, she wasn't new here. If Renamon simplifies, it would be comparing sound to data, and likening it as such. Seen in that way, it could be understood. The Digimon nodded to her in understanding.
Then tilted her head slightly. "Are you part of the first aid group here?"
It appeared as though the paramedic group's organization was coming around to other patients. Either this, or she was asking about the former group. Regardless, the woman had likely been in the institute for awhile; only veterans knew which questions to ask.
"Yes, though we are still in the midst of organizing. I'm working on getting a few supplies at the moment--" Here, the soldier paused as if remembering a crucial detail. Two, in fact: the lack of an introduction and her task. Thankfully, the second could wait for a couple of more minutes. "I'm sorry. I'd almost forgotten. My name is Tear Grants. It's nice to meet you despite circumstances."
The girl seemed more straight-forward than most. She spoke casually, yet with intent. "Renamon," the Digimon gave in return. "It's nice to come across you as well."
On the subject of supplies, Renamon was well-versed. She looked at Tear curiously. "Do you know where to find them? There's a few different places to gather them in."
Where to find them... That was the question, wasn't it? Tear mused on it for a long minute, memory unfolding the details of her night's plan. "I've read the best places for supplies are located on the second floor," she replied. "Though, no, unfortunately. I'm afraid I don't have the exact places."
She sighed, almost ashamed of admitting her ignorance. "I'm also searching for a suitable weapon so I may visit the kitchen as well." That area, at least, was easier to figure out.
She knew enough but not everything, but Renamon was content with detailing. "For weapons, on the first floor you have the kitchen, the doctor's offices for some, the greenhouse, and the recreational field's shed. Possibly some of the rooms off of the sun room, depending on what you're looking for. The second floor has the janitor's closet in the east hall, the patient possessions room, and then the laboratory and supplies in the west hall. Overlooking the sun room there's a pharmacy with an assortment of pills. I would recommend against the chapel, if you go that route. It's not as giving as the words suggest."
The Digimon paused, and then added. "The medical wing is supposedly open now. It's located on the first floor in the east wing, though it seems to come with a drug trial of sorts. Another place for all kinds of supplies is Doyleton, which I'm heading to with another tonight."
Renamon was quite the veteran. Not only did she provide significant intel, but she also offered recommendations. The woman was not only knowledgable, but her tone carried a degree of experience. It was this and the initial acknowledgement to Tear's concerns that sealed the deal: Tear would interpret her words as truth. Now she had a basic plan of attack, so to speak, and she had her mysterious temporary charge to thank.
The Melodist was about to offer her gratitude when the other mentioned Doyleton. Instead, her eyes widened in surprise. The drive to the town had been short, but at night, no patient had access to those strange vehicles. Furthermore, did they honestly plan to traverse outside in this weather?
"I have to ask," she started, the curiosity evident. "How do you plan on getting to Doyleton?"
The question existed across Tear's face before she spoke it, and Renamon smiled despite herself. Her unbladed hand slipped into her jacket pocket. "A test of sorts," she explained. "I've had many tell me that it works but I'd like to see for myself."
Her hand pulled out of her pocket, bringing a gold bound red gem with it. "It should be set to the last location I was the night there were portals within the doors. I happened to be in Doyleton."
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She had barely made any movements when the man approached her, dropped a handful of pills into her hand and gave precise explanations before walking off. She hadn't the time to respond, let alone doubt or second guess the motive, before he had slipped around into a hall. She stared after him a moment, then looked down to her hand. Was it any different, really, than what she might have done at one point? "Don't get yourself killed." She had practically said a variation of that this morning, and before to those she had helped acclimate ( ... )
Reply
To an extent. The medic part of her was afraid the injury was severe, and that the bandage was literally the only thing keeping that area together. If the fear proved to be fact, she may set aside propriety for the sake of another. And yes, that made perfect sense.
For now, however, it might do her well to keep watch and throw out the proper warnings. "Are you sure? It might not be simple to redress the injury if it isn't healed," she raised. "If you also feel pain from any movement in the area, it might not be ready."
Reply
Her fingertips slid away from the edge of it, and instead flattened out over the area, palm pressing against it. She raised an eyebrow at the girl. "You sound as if you know what you're talking about."
Reply
"Ah, I've served as a healer for some time." Still did, in fact, but the title was no longer a formality. "I apologize for distrupting you; it's an old habit of mine." Noting the injured and approaching them were actions that came naturally, even in the darkest of hallways.
Reply
She had a sudden urge to warn this girl about the chapel, if one was to talk of going against actual healing. Instead Renamon gave into her curiosity. "What kind of healer are you?" An elaboration, perhaps. "How do you use it?"
Reply
There existed several ways to extrapolate, but she opted for the most simple. The most basic. "I'm what is called a Seventh Fonist in my world," she began. "Seventh Fonists can control a type of particle we call the Seventh Fonon, or the fonon of sound. This ability allows us to heal others." She smiled faintly. "I'm also trained in basic, hands-on medicine, which is useful for this place."
Reply
Then tilted her head slightly. "Are you part of the first aid group here?"
Reply
"Yes, though we are still in the midst of organizing. I'm working on getting a few supplies at the moment--" Here, the soldier paused as if remembering a crucial detail. Two, in fact: the lack of an introduction and her task. Thankfully, the second could wait for a couple of more minutes. "I'm sorry. I'd almost forgotten. My name is Tear Grants. It's nice to meet you despite circumstances."
Reply
On the subject of supplies, Renamon was well-versed. She looked at Tear curiously. "Do you know where to find them? There's a few different places to gather them in."
Reply
She sighed, almost ashamed of admitting her ignorance. "I'm also searching for a suitable weapon so I may visit the kitchen as well." That area, at least, was easier to figure out.
Reply
The Digimon paused, and then added. "The medical wing is supposedly open now. It's located on the first floor in the east wing, though it seems to come with a drug trial of sorts. Another place for all kinds of supplies is Doyleton, which I'm heading to with another tonight."
Reply
The Melodist was about to offer her gratitude when the other mentioned Doyleton. Instead, her eyes widened in surprise. The drive to the town had been short, but at night, no patient had access to those strange vehicles. Furthermore, did they honestly plan to traverse outside in this weather?
"I have to ask," she started, the curiosity evident. "How do you plan on getting to Doyleton?"
Reply
Her hand pulled out of her pocket, bringing a gold bound red gem with it. "It should be set to the last location I was the night there were portals within the doors. I happened to be in Doyleton."
Reply
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