| closed / incomplete |

[lettucelive]

CHARACTERS: Hebe (lettucelive), Athena (sprangforth), Artemis (onceabove), open to Team 4
DATE/TIME: While it's still light out!
LOCATION: Staten Island University Hospital (Trauma Center)
RATING: tba
WARNINGS: None at the moment.
SUMMARY: Time to rescue a little damsel in distress.

Comments

[drinksalot]

Time passed, but no Greek goddess showed up at the hardware store. Lancelot didn't know what had happened, but he wasn't about to sit around asking questions. The knight wasn't a man content to be idle. There was a possibility Athena was already at the hospital, and he wasn't about to miss out on the action. Lancelot found a utility belt, armed himself with two axes, and found a smaller chainsaw that wouldn't be a bitch to carry around. Properly equipped, the knight left the hardware store and began the frustrating journey to Staten Island University Hospital.

It was frustrating because it seemed like he was going in circles. Same shop fronts. Same streets. But Lancelot pushed himself forward, clinging to any form of cover along the way. He didn't want to be slowed down by any nasty critters. If Athena and anyone else had already beat him there, he couldn't be stalled. The progress was slow, but not fruitless. Eventually he saw the hospital building loom in the distance, there but just out of reach. Lancelot grinned grimly to himself. He was making progress. Slow, maddening progress.

Lancelot didn't know how much time passed before he managed to work his way to the front entrance, but he prayed he wasn't too late. Rather than burst in, he pushed the door open slowly. It'd be best to draw as little attention to himself as possible until he knew who else -- or what else -- was inside.

[lettucelive]

The goddess crouched beneath the gurney had absolutely no idea where she was in relation to the others, who she hadn't been alerted were inside the building. There was no way to know that this was an operating room-gone-classroom inside of the trauma center -- she could barely even place herself on the island. Hebe had never visited Staten Island before.

Her toes felt cold against the floor, and she curled them up in some vain attempt at keeping warm, even pressing her sweaty palms to them. Still no sounds outside the door. Would it be better to wait out in the hallway? Was she still too afraid to dare unlocking the double doors and venturing out where she'd heard the noise?

It was an impulsive decision to get up off the floor and move in that general direction, the sheet dragging along behind as she gripped the scalpel tight in her hand. Once her spine hit the wall next to one of the doors, she let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut as she counted down from ten.

Once her heart stopped thudding so loud in her ears, she parted her lips to sing as softly as possible. It was something she'd heard on the radio -- Jason Mraz? I'm Yours, that was it. A few forgotten lyrics were stumbled over, but the words weren't important: the point was to attract her sisters by the sound of a voice.

And if it attracted that thing with the scraping metal, well, she had a deadly scalpel to wield. Maybe it needed surgery. She laughed incredulously to herself under her breath. Monster surgery. It needed something removed: a tumor. No, a cyst. Whatever a cyst was.

Crap, she was going crazy.