The moment the crew cracks through the last of the hold the pirates have on Stacy's systems, there is a sudden change throughout the ship. It's almost akin to whole-body shudder. Then something strange starts to happen. Broken-down systems start to heal, nerves rejuvenate--even the sensors in the city start to self-repair and go active. In the Pod
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[ooc: do the subthread thang. Multiple subthreads of folks talking.]
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She doesn't really need much, but the bleeding from her self-amputated finger just won't stop. She just wants a better bandage or something to slow the bleeding until she can get better treatment.
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"Jesus... Do you have the rest of the finger?" He says as he pulls a clamp and hemostatics from his kit. Then he thought about losing a finger around flesh eating corpses.
"Nevermind. You'll be okay. I promise." With that, he went to work.
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"Slag, what happened to you?" He said, walking over to her, genuinely concerned. Of course, he hadn't thought that maybe just walking up might distract the guy working on her finger. Or that those words in that tone coming out of the still-masked Batman might seem a bit... strange.
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"Batman, I need to ask you step back. I get your concern, but I need room to do my job, man."
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She goes on. "It was one of the types of zombies--they were like a fungus, with splinters sticking everywhere, instead of the virus kind. I got a splinter in my finger and it started growing, so I cut my finger off."
She's pretty matter of fact about it, but then she'd been pretty matter-of-fact when cutting it off.
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"I could ah- use some-" She was never going to grab someone bleeding fire again.
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As far as she knew, there hadn't been any fire. Not something that would have caused burns like this anyway.
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"Touching this, Steve burned you? How?" She kept her voice calm, and placid. If the girl was going into shock, she'd need to do whatever she could to counteract that as soon as these hands were dealt with.
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Gently, she pressed the cool cloth onto the girl's hands, the soothing solution should at least lessen the burning sensation until they can find gauze and bandages.
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Couple that with the blood loss, and the gashes across his face and chest sustained from a Hunter that had gotten the drop on him while he stayed behind to make sure no zombies came up on his team's rear, and Chris was in a world of pain.
He barely had managed to stagger through the medbay door before passing out from exertion, more blood loss from those gashes, and the sheer pain. It was with an indignant THUD that he hit the floor, face first, only compounding the other injuries.
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Staunching all the blood loss first, then focus on the bullet wound. He was happy to find that a single IV hookup in this place handled pain managment and a bit of clotting help in one shot.
Bullet removed and wound packed he set in on stitching the gashes, whistling as he worked. Doctoring after a zombie fight? This was his element. He might as well try to be cheerful about it. Plus Thriller was just stuck in his head.
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