I've got Blunt Force Head Trauma. Isn't that great!? ((Hospital Wing, Semi-Closed RP))
((Warning: Linked thread contains potentially NSFW language (just the proverbial f-bomb). Closed RP for now, but there will be a thread later for anyone who wants to visit Steph that would make up an excuse tofeasibly be in the hospital wing!))
Any and all involved parties would agree that it’s been a weird coupla days for Ray Kowalski Vecchio. Getting attacked by butter and midgets (but not buttery midgets thank god), moving into a tent village, and having one planted on you by the wronga Mountie? Weird. So when he sees a girl wandering outside the forest looking roughed over, it’s almost like a return to normalcy.
Ten minutes later, Ray’s realizing this girl ain’t exactly normal. Something about her body language - she’s got all the markings of being jumped, but none of the mannerisims.
“I barfed on your shoes.” For example!
“I can see that. I can smell that, too. Don’t worry,” Ray says, pulling her arm a little tighter around his shoulder. He offered to just carry her, and she offered to punch him in the face. So far, they were getting along pretty good! “It’s not even a thing. Everybody barfs, what are you gonna do? Me, I barfed just the other day. Too many firewhiskeys. They don’t warn you about that firewhiskey, coming in. If I can barf, you can barf.”
“You’re using the word barf way, way too much in one sentence,” she says, face looking a little too pale for Ray’s taste. Her right cheek was looking shiny, too. That was gonna be one heck of a shiner, in the morning.
“Sorry. Why don’t we try a different -watch that second step- a different topic of conversation. Like concussions. Sorry to say, but I’m thinking there’s a concussion in your future. You ever had one of them before?” The girl’s silence gave Ray his answer. “Okay. Then you know they’re no fun. Maybe you could tell me who went and concussed you?” Silence. Okay, she’s a teenager. Go for the looks angle.
“Because you look roughed up pretty bad.” Not the worst he’s seen, not by far, but hey! Go with what’ll get an argument. Teenagers like to argue.
“You think this is bad?” She’s looking at Ray like he’s the class dunce.
Bingo. “For a kid your age? Sure. You wanna tell me what happened? I’m a cop. I help with this kinda stuff.”
“Look, thanks for your help, but I can manage from here.” Crap. That there was a very preemptive bingo.
“Not happening, kid. Say you stumble off the into the wrong hallway, and fall asleep. That happens, there’s an underage kid sustaining brain damage on my watch. I do not need to deal with that kind of paperwork.” He really didn’t! “And then I’ve got internal affairs nipping at my boots. Not a chance.”
The kid sighed, all huffy-like, and looked straight ahead. Bingo-ish! He’d take it!
“All right, here we go. Hospital wing.” Thank god for Ray's innately fantastical, stylish, and awe-inspiring sense of direction, because huffy-teenage-girl was looking more than a bit woozy, actually leaning against Ray. This was not the way he liked to solicit female attention. “Hey! Can we get some help over here?”
Any and all involved parties would agree that it’s been a weird coupla days for Ray Kowalski Vecchio. Getting attacked by butter and midgets (but not buttery midgets thank god), moving into a tent village, and having one planted on you by the wronga Mountie? Weird. So when he sees a girl wandering outside the forest looking roughed over, it’s almost like a return to normalcy.
Ten minutes later, Ray’s realizing this girl ain’t exactly normal. Something about her body language - she’s got all the markings of being jumped, but none of the mannerisims.
“I barfed on your shoes.” For example!
“I can see that. I can smell that, too. Don’t worry,” Ray says, pulling her arm a little tighter around his shoulder. He offered to just carry her, and she offered to punch him in the face. So far, they were getting along pretty good! “It’s not even a thing. Everybody barfs, what are you gonna do? Me, I barfed just the other day. Too many firewhiskeys. They don’t warn you about that firewhiskey, coming in. If I can barf, you can barf.”
“You’re using the word barf way, way too much in one sentence,” she says, face looking a little too pale for Ray’s taste. Her right cheek was looking shiny, too. That was gonna be one heck of a shiner, in the morning.
“Sorry. Why don’t we try a different -watch that second step- a different topic of conversation. Like concussions. Sorry to say, but I’m thinking there’s a concussion in your future. You ever had one of them before?” The girl’s silence gave Ray his answer. “Okay. Then you know they’re no fun. Maybe you could tell me who went and concussed you?” Silence. Okay, she’s a teenager. Go for the looks angle.
“Because you look roughed up pretty bad.” Not the worst he’s seen, not by far, but hey! Go with what’ll get an argument. Teenagers like to argue.
“You think this is bad?” She’s looking at Ray like he’s the class dunce.
Bingo. “For a kid your age? Sure. You wanna tell me what happened? I’m a cop. I help with this kinda stuff.”
“Look, thanks for your help, but I can manage from here.” Crap. That there was a very preemptive bingo.
“Not happening, kid. Say you stumble off the into the wrong hallway, and fall asleep. That happens, there’s an underage kid sustaining brain damage on my watch. I do not need to deal with that kind of paperwork.” He really didn’t! “And then I’ve got internal affairs nipping at my boots. Not a chance.”
The kid sighed, all huffy-like, and looked straight ahead. Bingo-ish! He’d take it!
“All right, here we go. Hospital wing.” Thank god for Ray's innately fantastical, stylish, and awe-inspiring sense of direction, because huffy-teenage-girl was looking more than a bit woozy, actually leaning against Ray. This was not the way he liked to solicit female attention. “Hey! Can we get some help over here?”