058 - Voice

[hopeless_hacker]

[Infirmary Filter]

I need immediate medical assistance in the male shower block. My inmate Rinzler is bleeding arterially from a wound to his shoulder - he's semi-conscious and I'm doing what I can to stem the bleed.

[OOC: Follows this by less than a minute.]

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[thegooddrjones]

I'm on my way.

Spam for Rinzler

[hopeless_hacker]

[Some time later, Tosh finds herself sitting at Rinzler's bedside in the infirmary, watching him sleep off an anaesthetic. It hadn't occurred to her to point out that he might have wanted to get himself acquainted with the intricacies of the human body he now had, never mind the basics of first aid - things like 'don't pull out anything stuck in you' that seemed elementary to her had just been unnecessary knowledge to him.

At least he survived. Barely. She sighs, leans back and waits.]

Spam, glorious spam. <3

[ifightfor]

[Rinzler had survived. It was a lesson hard-learned, but it wasn't one he would forget any time soon; what didn't kill the Program made him stronger.

He'd been down several hours sleeping off the combined effect of shock and the anesthetic, his normal growl barely above a whisper that could be mistaken for a housecat's purr. (The strange, light-chased scar across his throat gave a possible reason for the noise.) Then--

Between one instant and the next the growl deepens to its normal registers. Red eyes open and fix on Toshiko, instantly focused, assessing, accusing.

Where is he and what did you do with him?]

glorious spam!

[hopeless_hacker]

[It's clear that he's not best pleased with the situation, but as far as she's concerned that might just dissuade him from being shot at in the future. She leans forward, elbows on her knees and hands clasped together.]

You've been unconscious for almost six hours. You were shot with a crossbow bolt and when you removed it, it either caused or aggravated a small wound to your subclavian artery. You nearly bled to death. I found you.

['I helped save your life and I am going to hit you with a rolled-up newspaper if this happens again' isn't stated but it's clear enough to infer. She gestures to where his retrieved communicator is sitting on the bedside table.]

Do you need anything? More painkillers?

[ifightfor]

[He pulls himself to a sitting position as she speaks, no expression visible on his face--his face, by the Creator, how many people have seen him without his mask?--though his growl picks up tempo as he takes in this explanation.

One hand goes to the wound in his shoulder, probing at the dressing fastened there. He remembers well enough the sick feeling of something going wrong inside the wound and quickly leaves off doing that, passing the hand over his exposed face before looking back at Tosh, still expressionless.

...Painkillers? If anything, his expression gets more blank at that. He reaches for his communicator, dragging it into his lap and typing laboriously:]

«Define "painkillers".»

[A pause, then:]

«JA307020 unable to neutralize User with,» [he gestures to his shoulder,] «projectile weapon. User still at large.»