[Thread] Still not dead.
Who: Beyond Birthday [distorted_echo], Teru Mikami [dr_mikami] [closed]
Where: a private recovery room in White Ridge Hospital
When: [29/10/2007] [5:30PM]
What: B, recovering from Mello's attack, gets a visit from Dr. Mikami.
Rating: R for swearing and references to violence.
That little shit.
B was going to kill him. It was only a matter of time. He'd find a way to kill that blonde little faggot. Ever since he'd woken up after the surgery to remove the bullet that was lodged between his ribs, he'd fantasized about it. He considered all the different ways he'd do it... His favorite so far was removing Mello's appendages and putting them in a blender with jam, then feeding it to Mello, then cutting him open so that he could watch it spill out of his stomach as he died.
LSD, apparently, had been in the jam that Mello fed B, and it reacted badly with the medication he was already on, and he was still twitching and feverish as a result but the doctors told him it would go away as long as he stayed clean for a few weeks. That included keeping him off his antipsychotics, which meant that not only was he having acid flashbacks, he was also feeling the full effects of his paranoid schizophrenia.
His legs were strapped and locked to the bed but his right arm was free. The other arm was in a sling and would remain that way until all of those tiny shattered bones in his ribs and shoulder repaired themselves. He was shirtless right now because the little hospital room felt unbearably hot, even though he could see from the window that most of the leaves had fallen from the trees and a light frost coated the glass.
The window made him feel calmer so he was staring out of it, watching the daylight fade and imagining the day that he would escape and cut down all of those who had done him harm.
Where: a private recovery room in White Ridge Hospital
When: [29/10/2007] [5:30PM]
What: B, recovering from Mello's attack, gets a visit from Dr. Mikami.
Rating: R for swearing and references to violence.
That little shit.
B was going to kill him. It was only a matter of time. He'd find a way to kill that blonde little faggot. Ever since he'd woken up after the surgery to remove the bullet that was lodged between his ribs, he'd fantasized about it. He considered all the different ways he'd do it... His favorite so far was removing Mello's appendages and putting them in a blender with jam, then feeding it to Mello, then cutting him open so that he could watch it spill out of his stomach as he died.
LSD, apparently, had been in the jam that Mello fed B, and it reacted badly with the medication he was already on, and he was still twitching and feverish as a result but the doctors told him it would go away as long as he stayed clean for a few weeks. That included keeping him off his antipsychotics, which meant that not only was he having acid flashbacks, he was also feeling the full effects of his paranoid schizophrenia.
His legs were strapped and locked to the bed but his right arm was free. The other arm was in a sling and would remain that way until all of those tiny shattered bones in his ribs and shoulder repaired themselves. He was shirtless right now because the little hospital room felt unbearably hot, even though he could see from the window that most of the leaves had fallen from the trees and a light frost coated the glass.
The window made him feel calmer so he was staring out of it, watching the daylight fade and imagining the day that he would escape and cut down all of those who had done him harm.