Don't you dare put me on H.R.S.A.
Who: psyd_seward and fragmentsoflucy
When: Monday the 17th about 2pm
Where: A park and subsequent shops near Skye Medical
Summary: After much pleading and panicking, Murata convinces the good Doctor Seward to take him outside.
Warnings: Hopefully nothing major, probably just disturbing psychology talk, drug discussion, and maybe some light sexual innuendos. Action Log
[The nurses had helped him get ready as much as they would allow themselves, though Murata had startled them each time that he moved too quickly. One would think they'd be used to strange things happening around them, with the city that they'd lived in their whole lives. It had only been a month and a half since they'd been here, so he'd been told, and nearly every day of it had been spent inside these walls. The one exception was Shinji's release on Christmas, but Murata was scared to think about just what had happened then.
It hadn't taken long to get Murata into a pair of loose sweat pants, a long sleeve turtle neck, and a jacket that were all donated to the hospital. The clothes fit him snugly, outlining just how thin of a body they shared. Once in a wheelchair, he'd been escorted down to the lobby to meet the doctor, his eyes still glassy from the pain medication that had been given to account for the time he'd bee away from his IV.
The doors had opened and he'd taken a deep breath of the outside air, letting it chill his lungs to the point it hurt. Pulling the coat around him more completely, he settled in contently to the wheelchair, glancing about to watch the people as they passed them. He had no idea where they were going, what they were going to be doing, but even if the doctor just stood there with him outside the main doors of the hospital, he would have been content. Just being outside the walls made him feel better, less trapped, less desperate. A hand slid under the coat and touched the CD that he tucked against his chest. He wanted to keep it close, for many reasons. His thoughts blanked out for a long moment, not realizing that he was moving, that he was being driven along. There was a gasp and a jerk in his head as if he'd been unconscious and had come to. His head craned back in the direction of one of the handles, finding an awkward rest on Seward's forearm as he watched his face, eyes glancing about, never actually making eye contact.]
Wh-Where a-are we g-going, D-Doctor?
When: Monday the 17th about 2pm
Where: A park and subsequent shops near Skye Medical
Summary: After much pleading and panicking, Murata convinces the good Doctor Seward to take him outside.
Warnings: Hopefully nothing major, probably just disturbing psychology talk, drug discussion, and maybe some light sexual innuendos. Action Log
[The nurses had helped him get ready as much as they would allow themselves, though Murata had startled them each time that he moved too quickly. One would think they'd be used to strange things happening around them, with the city that they'd lived in their whole lives. It had only been a month and a half since they'd been here, so he'd been told, and nearly every day of it had been spent inside these walls. The one exception was Shinji's release on Christmas, but Murata was scared to think about just what had happened then.
It hadn't taken long to get Murata into a pair of loose sweat pants, a long sleeve turtle neck, and a jacket that were all donated to the hospital. The clothes fit him snugly, outlining just how thin of a body they shared. Once in a wheelchair, he'd been escorted down to the lobby to meet the doctor, his eyes still glassy from the pain medication that had been given to account for the time he'd bee away from his IV.
The doors had opened and he'd taken a deep breath of the outside air, letting it chill his lungs to the point it hurt. Pulling the coat around him more completely, he settled in contently to the wheelchair, glancing about to watch the people as they passed them. He had no idea where they were going, what they were going to be doing, but even if the doctor just stood there with him outside the main doors of the hospital, he would have been content. Just being outside the walls made him feel better, less trapped, less desperate. A hand slid under the coat and touched the CD that he tucked against his chest. He wanted to keep it close, for many reasons. His thoughts blanked out for a long moment, not realizing that he was moving, that he was being driven along. There was a gasp and a jerk in his head as if he'd been unconscious and had come to. His head craned back in the direction of one of the handles, finding an awkward rest on Seward's forearm as he watched his face, eyes glancing about, never actually making eye contact.]
Wh-Where a-are we g-going, D-Doctor?