For reasons unknown to Gene (mostly mun's RL related) he wasn't able to join in the fun of stealing. Or helping on the other side of the door. Sitting at the closest table to the door Eugene Roe taps a booted jumpboot nervously waiting for any sign of any of the group to return from Sherwood.
He's nervous, yes. Worried- a medic's supply of items arranged on the table to help when he'd need to. As soon as the door was open Gene was looking up with an emotionless face to the two men who enter wearing the odd clothing he'd come to associate with Will's home. "Yous two all right?" comes the Cajun accented reply.
Dark eyes watch as Atton passes, a few words also mumbled along the lines of 'Guarnere' or 'stubborn' as he turns his attention back to the bleeding Krauser. Instantly the Airborne medic is on his feet trying to see what wounds the other man may have first.
Yes...Gene would have probably seen it if a crossbow bolt had still be there. All the same he swoops down onto the wound pulling out a pair of 'sizzuhs' from his pocket to start cutting away at Krauser's tunic. "Should be cleaned first..looks like it's a decent wound. No bad tearin. Yous allergic t' sulfa or need morphine?"
Looking back up at the taller man Gene gives a faint little smile before also feeling like he has to state the obvious..if the red cross on his arm didn't. "I'm a medic.."
"No. It was pretty close-range." A crossbow bolt has a lot of power behind it. "It's not worth--"
Oh. Okay.
"Morphine's good." Look, he has a hole in his arm. A hole that's actually healing from the very center outwards, but that doesn't mean his nerves like it. "Yeah, I figured that one out."
With the skill of most medics, maybe a little TO good, Gene has the syrette out and is poping Krauser closer to an vein with it. He's had to do this a little more than once. "Not worth lookin at?" comes the dry reply. "'s what most of th' guys in Easy say too. Ain't lost a' leg or an arm yet t' infection out in th' field..ain't gonna start here."
"Yeah. I heal fast." It still hurts when he gets stabbed, so he's not complaining too much--although his hand momentarily interrupts Eugene's just so he can double-check the dosage.
The dosage is a genericly set amount by the United States Army in 1944. See? It's dated! However the idea of Krauser healing fast sort of makes him blink.
Self healing or not the half-trained traiteurs starts to work. Krauser would start to feel the pain going away..which he can say the morphine did it when it really isn't sorta. And the speed the would is actually starting to heal up would be a little wackier than usual. When Gene is able to speak again his words are strained. "How'd it go?"
"Well enough. Killed three, stood out in the open like an idiot and got shot for it--didn't expect them to have been falling behind like that, but apparently they let the others charge into the ambush and came along a bit more slowly." He shrugs. "Killed two more. That ended my part of the combat and I got pulled out the area so the natives could mop up. Mission accomplished, didn't seem to lose anyone. We're coming back through in waves."
Military lingo..or at least how Krauser says it all...is something Doc can relate to. The whole described situation seems to close to what they went through in Neunen. He refuses to wince though. He has a job to do.
With the ability to self heal and his own little bit of healing the wound is closed up in no time. Wiping the blood away with his hand Gene wipes it on his pants without even thinking. Again, something common for the man to do. "Sounds like yous did pretty good then. Few wounded 's better than a few dead."
"I'll take it. Embarassment getting shot, what the hell, but--what the hell?" He didn't really bother to watch it heal, but he does check. There's no scar. He turns his arm over, checking the other side. "How did you do that?"
He's got something of a high and is staying still for a lightheaded reason, but he's had nowhere near enough morphine to confuse arms.
"Do what?" Accepting a towel from bar the medic starts to wipe his hands off again, this time not on his uniform. Watching Krauser for a moment Gene motions towards a chair for the man to sit should he want too.
When a waitrat runs over the Cajun man speaks again. "Water and somethin t' eat please. Anything the man likes and something light for me." The little rat squeeks a reply before bounding away to feel the order.
See? Gene is decent on changing the subject too! Kinda..sorta..well maybe not.
"This?" He doesn't point at his face. He just turns it a little more to the light. "This is my healing ability alone. Wasn't the crossbow bolt, wasn't me. That leaves you. How'd you do it?"
Still Gene makes no outward sign of knowing what the larger man is talking about..though his eyes do seem to tighten a little. "Maybe jus' wasn't as bad as y' thought it was? Else th' morphine 's a little to strong for ya..."
With a shrug the medic sets the empty morphine syrette down onto the tabletop. Nope! Nothing to see here!
"How many people left out there? Any more wounded yous know of?"
He's nervous, yes. Worried- a medic's supply of items arranged on the table to help when he'd need to. As soon as the door was open Gene was looking up with an emotionless face to the two men who enter wearing the odd clothing he'd come to associate with Will's home. "Yous two all right?" comes the Cajun accented reply.
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And it hurts like hell, but look at him. Not the first time that's happened. He's dealing.
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"What happened? What's th' worst of them?"
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He's helpful like that?
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Looking back up at the taller man Gene gives a faint little smile before also feeling like he has to state the obvious..if the red cross on his arm didn't. "I'm a medic.."
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Oh. Okay.
"Morphine's good." Look, he has a hole in his arm. A hole that's actually healing from the very center outwards, but that doesn't mean his nerves like it. "Yeah, I figured that one out."
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Not born yesterday, no.
"It's not going to fall off."
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Self healing or not the half-trained traiteurs starts to work. Krauser would start to feel the pain going away..which he can say the morphine did it when it really isn't sorta. And the speed the would is actually starting to heal up would be a little wackier than usual. When Gene is able to speak again his words are strained. "How'd it go?"
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"Well enough. Killed three, stood out in the open like an idiot and got shot for it--didn't expect them to have been falling behind like that, but apparently they let the others charge into the ambush and came along a bit more slowly." He shrugs. "Killed two more. That ended my part of the combat and I got pulled out the area so the natives could mop up. Mission accomplished, didn't seem to lose anyone. We're coming back through in waves."
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With the ability to self heal and his own little bit of healing the wound is closed up in no time. Wiping the blood away with his hand Gene wipes it on his pants without even thinking. Again, something common for the man to do. "Sounds like yous did pretty good then. Few wounded 's better than a few dead."
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He's got something of a high and is staying still for a lightheaded reason, but he's had nowhere near enough morphine to confuse arms.
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When a waitrat runs over the Cajun man speaks again. "Water and somethin t' eat please. Anything the man likes and something light for me." The little rat squeeks a reply before bounding away to feel the order.
See? Gene is decent on changing the subject too! Kinda..sorta..well maybe not.
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With a shrug the medic sets the empty morphine syrette down onto the tabletop. Nope! Nothing to see here!
"How many people left out there? Any more wounded yous know of?"
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