Midnight Escapade {krystal}

[brighteye]

[/b] Krystal said cooly, looking up at him, all trace of humor gone. Because really, he was the one who came and bothered her - he practically attacked her. Technically, she could have shot him and would have been in the clear. But no, she decided she wanted to help him, and this was the thanks she got. Insults.

"Okay, jessh. Chill. I'll let you stitch me. I don't want your life story." Finally! It took him long enough. Krystal glanced down at the cotton swab, realizing that most of the alcohol was now no longer on the bit of cotton. Muttering under her breath, she fished the bottle back out, pouring a bit more on the cloth. "But, it'll scar, right? When you've stitched it? That's what happened in the movies." Krystal sighed and counted to three before responding.

"It might. Sometimes they don't scar - most of the time they do." Krystal shrugged, saying she didn't care either way. She just wanted to get this done. After he nodded, allowing her to approach his head once more, she reached up carefully to dab the cotton soaked in alcohol against his wound. She expected him to yell out or whatever, but she kept at it until she was completely sure that it was cleaned out, that there was no chance that there would be any form of infection. Then, and only then, did she pull the cotton away, wrapping it up in the hankerchief she had used to clean his wound. "Hey, that alcohol stuff you're gonna use... can I drink it? Like whiskey or whatever?" She shook her head.

"This alcohol isn't safe to drink. You'd need to have your stomach pumped if you were to consume it - meaning you'll die because I can't do that here." She told him. Hopefully, telling him exactly what might happen if he drank it would keep him from attempting from stealing it. Then she pulled the tube of anesthetics out of her pocket, along with the Q-tip.

"Before you ask, this is a strong anesthetic. Until it kicks in, I won't do anything else to your wound, okay?" She told him, opening it and putting some of the transparent goo onto the Q-tip. "Stay still." She ordered, lifting this up to his head as well. It took about four applications to completely coat the wound and the skin around it, but it should kick in pretty quickly. "Until that's working, let me see your eyes. I need to know if you have a concussion."[/ul]

[Jun Matsumoto]

Jun froze again when the girl mentioned his fear of needles, and quickly eyed her cautiously. He muttered under his breath, something unintelligible, but it was clearly in annoyance, and it was clearly directed at Krystal. He didn't think he'd ever trust her, especially if she carried on like that, and he wanted her to just get her stitching over with as fast as she possibly could.

However, other than that short outburst, he remained quiet as Krystal busied herself further soaking the cloth, and while he looked to deflate as she told him he wouldn't necessarily scar, he kept his mouth shut, terrified that she may knock him out and needle attack him if he were to utter any word that upset her. He had to be careful, play it safe, and most importantly, not give her any reason to change her mind about being 'a good guy.'

Jun let out a long, high pitched yelp as the girl touched the alcohol to his forehead, and instantly he jumped back a little, glaring at her. Whatever she had put on the cloth; alcohol she'd said, hurt more than just a little. It was like she'd lit a fire in his head, aggravating a swarm of stinging wasps that had made their nest in his flesh. “What the fuck was that?!” He peered at her, horrified that she, a nurse, could cause someone that much pain. “Do you have any idea how much that hurt! I know you don't want me to get infected, or whatever, but really? Owch!” A glare scrunched his features up, and he pouted at the girl.

The only thing that made him step forward again, allowing her to tend his wound once more is the fact he feared an infection, and her words lingered in his mind, along with the image of zombie crabs. A shiver ran through him as he offered her his forehead again, wincing each time she dabbed at it with a heavy hand.

Finally she finished, making a comment about the alcohol he had wanted to drink, and showed him a transparent looking stick. She didn't hesitate in squeezing a thick, jelly like glue upon it, and Jun made a face, one that suggested childish disgust. She explained that it was to numb any pain before the stitches, and he shrugged, allowing her to go ahead and apply it to his skin. She told him to stand still, and he saluted mockingly.

It didn't take long to put on, and almost as soon as she'd wiped his head with the goo the fourth time, a strange numbness had come over him, as if he couldn't quite tell if he had a forehead or not. It was strange; feeling disconnected from a part oneself, and Jun wasn't sure that he liked it. Still, it did make the pain she had caused him by attacking his wound with her alcohol a little better, and in minutes it had disappeared all together.

“So, if I can't drink the alcohol, you got something that I can drink? I'm hella thirsty, and I'm so sure that it can't be good for you to be going bleeding ever where without having a good intake of fluids.” He only knew this because his father had told him that blood loss was very 'strenuous' on the body, and that the best way to repair damage done by extensive bleeding was to drink a lot of fluid. Shrugging in a sarcastic manner, Jun continued “I mean, it's not like I'm the nurse or anything, but I figured that water is like, important in helping people when they've been bleeding profusely, and they lost a lot of body juice.”

He smile, proud of himself. Take that smart ass. Then there was mention of a word he didn't quite grasp, but it sounded bad whatever it was. He thought it was her way of getting him back, before he realized she was deadly serious. Gluping, he opened his eyes wide, as if to flash her the pupils quickly. “I don't know what you're looking for, but as far as I remember, I don't have a cushion.”

[brighteye]

[/i] had no medical skills) and just found the tiniest things to complain about. And what did she do? She just smiled and bore it, for the most part. With this one - a stranger on the street who had attacked her and then had the gall to be mean to her when she was helping him - she was having a harder time being nice.

But even nice girls have their limits.

Still, she didn't let him know just how annoyed with him she was. Most people would have exploded, gotten red in the face and very angry. Most people didn't think she could get angry, but they were wrong. However, she expressed her anger differently. Where another would yell at a patient, she did just as she was doing with the boy here. A snide comment here, a harsh word there. It was very rare to see Krystal yell out of anger. She didn't raise hand nor voice against another unless it was to defend herself or as a last resort. Still, that didn't keep her from doing her job when she had to. After all, she had sword to help any and all who were injured and in pain. However, she couldn't help but feel a sense of perverse satisfaction when the boy yelped at the touch of alcohol to his wound. "What the fuck was that?!" He demanded after leaping away from the cloth in her hand. "Do you have any idea how much that hurt?! I know you don't want me to get infected, or whatever, but really? Owch!" She almost laughed at the way he was carrying on, but managed to keep the amusement off of her face.

"I'm aware that it stings, but generally I don't get reactions like that. There must have been some real nasty stuff on that rock." She said coolly. "Get back over here so I can finish." Her voice was still gentle, but there was a commanding undertone. She ignored the pout on his face. Honestly, he looked to be almost as old as her - he shouldn't go around pouting like a child. She didn't say as much - that would only make him rant at her even more and waste more of his breath and her time. Once he allowed her to finish and she had put the anesthetics on, she set aside those tools into a pocket and grabbed her flashlight. "So, if I can't drink the alcohol, you have something I can drink? I'm hella thirsty, and I'm so sure that it can't be good for you to be going bleeding everywhere without having a good intake of fluids." Her eyebrow raised at his sentence. It raised even more at his next one. She didn't think he had any idea in the way of medical information. Putting the flashlight aside, she reached into her bag again, drawing out a small bottle of water and handed it to him, ignoring the smug smile on his face.

"There. Drink up." She told him easily. "By the way: you haven't lost that much blood. What you'll really need is some juice to raise your blood sugar levels, but I don't carry that. Water is mainly just good for dehydration." She was tempted to comment on his swearing, but she figured if he knew she was annoyed at his words he'd just do it more. So she bit her tongue on her words, and instead waited for him to finish off the bottle of water she had given him. Once he'd done so, she grabbed the flashlight again. He gulped and opened his eyes wide. She stood up a little taller so that she could see his eyes properly as he spoke once more. "I don't know what you're looking for, but as far as I remember, I don't have a cushion."

"I'm not looking for a cushion, I'm looking for a concussion. Cun-cuss-shun." She said it slower so that he could understand - and not even in a demeaning way. "Its where you hurt your head so bad that you injure your brain. This can make you dizzy, nauseous, or you can die. I'm going to flash this light in your eyes to test for it." She warned him, so that he didn't freak out again. Then she let the light shine into his eyes, checking to see how his pupils reacted. They dilated, but a tad bit slowly.

"You might've hurt your head, but if you aren't dizzy or nauseous or any of that, you should be just fine. How's the head feeling." She reached up gingerly and touched the skin around the wound. "Can you feel that?"[/ul]

[Jun Matsumoto]

Jun made a 'nagging' face as she made a comment about his wound, no doubt trying to be smart, pursing his lips together and smacking them in a way similar to a fish. He often made that face at his mother when she was trying to be overly caring, when she was trying to get him to quit smoking, when she was telling him to stay home and not go and risk his life scavenging. However, he remembered that making no comment may be somewhat safer, especially when she had needles, anaesthetics and a gun. The last thing he wanted to do was compromise her good mood, and in doing so, his life.

He accepted the water bottle with a grin, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swig. Despite it being slightly warm, he found it highly refreshing, and it washed the metallic taste of exertion from his mouth, ridding his throat a little of the thick, smoky feeling he'd worked up through his few cigarettes. Smacking his lips as he lowered the drink, he winked at the girl and shrugged a little in answer to what she'd said about his blood loss. "By the way: you haven't lost that much blood. What you'll really need is some juice to raise your blood sugar levels, but I don't carry that. Water is mainly just good for dehydration."

“Well I lost some blood, didn't I? And you want your patient to be well looked after right? You want them to feel well, not get tired, that medical shit? Then water is important. I've been running around for hours with this cut, so I'm bound to be a bit...dehydrated...or whatever.” Jun nodded to make his point, happy that he'd managed to say something at least slightly smart again. He noticed from her expression that she didn't like him showing some intelligence. She liked it better when she was in charge, when she thought he had no idea what he was talking about. Well he'd just shown her. He wasn't necessarily as dumb as he looked. There were times; albeit rare, that he could be very street smart.

However, his pride was quickly damaged again, when she condescendingly pointed out the difference between a cushion and a concussion. "Its where you hurt your head so bad that you injure your brain. This can make you dizzy, nauseous, or you can die. I'm going to flash this light in your eyes to test for it."

Die?! A cushio-conc-whatever it is could kill him?! That was worse than infection or zombification. There was a chance he could die from a mere head cut? He gulped, and looked at her wide eyed. If she were to shine the light on him, he would barely have registered it. He was too busy worried about what the afterlife would look like, if it would look like anything, and how one stupid rock could end the good mood he had been in. He was too young to pass on! Especially not at the hands of cushion. People would laugh at him and call him names in his grave. It was not the heroic way to go.

"You might've hurt your head, but if you aren't dizzy or nauseous or any of that, you should be just fine. How's the head feeling." Jun shook his head aimlessly. There was no dizziness. No nauseousness. He was, for the moment free of both ailments. With a deep sigh, he liked that she'd said he'd be fine. No grave was needed, no burial, no need to practice on his speech to God, or Allah, or Buddah, or whoever. Still, he remained a little zoned out for a few moments, and only came back to what most would call full human consciousness when she poked his head.

Blinking, he realized that he felt very little of her testing prod. He registered that she'd touched him, but no more. However, remembering the gash that still existed, he faked a wince, holding his head and falling to his knees. “OWCH! That hurt! Ahhhhh!” He made all the correct noises, flailing about, moaning, groaning, and generally acting like she'd amputed a limb. However, he then sprang back to his feet grinning, and winked at her. “Not really. Didn't feel a thing. Well...I felt the poke but like...it didn't hurt. It felt kinda spacey and cool.”

[brighteye]

[/b] She asked him. She was more annoyed that he was trying to prove himself better than her, when really all she was trying to do was stitch up his head than the fact that he was intelligent. Really, she could care less if he was the smartest person on the planet - just shut up and let her do her work.

So, when she finally got to his head and gently touched it, she jumped slightly when suddenly he fell to the ground crying in pain. For a second she'd thought she'd actually hurt him, but then, after a moment of this, she realized that he'd fallen a moment too late to have felt any real pain - proven when he stood up and said: "Not really. Didn't feel a thing. Well... I felt a little poke but like... it didn't hurt. It felt kinda spacey and cool." He was grinning at her, and she sighed. Krystal pointed a finger - noticing absently that some of his blood was on it - at the boy in question.

"You'd better not do that when I'm stitching you." She told him sternly. "That is, unless you actually want to be in pain." It wasn't necessarily an empty threat. She might not make the stitching hurt if he kept screwing around, but she could do other things before she was done to put him in pain. Not that she would - no, she was too nice for that. That, and she was supposed to help and heal, not wound and put people in pain. People in pain are the ones she had to help, so making others hurt wouldn't necessarily be the best thing to do. Then she'd just have to help him more than she already was.

She turned her attention from the boy to her bag, carefully wiping her hands off on the bloody napkin she'd cleaned his wound with before digging in it. Out of the bag came nylon thread for stitching and a needle. She carefully threaded the string through the eye of the needle, tying it in place carefully. Now, she did realize that he had a fear of these, so she chose her next words cautiously. "Okay. I'm going to start now. If you'd rather close your eyes, you can do that. You won't feel anything." She told him taking a small step towards him. [/ul]

[Jun Matsumoto]

Jun watched the girl for a moment, and then nodded. He took a long swig of his water, screwed the top back on, and then perched himself on a close-by broken wall. He looked at the girl long and hard, and then offered his drink back to her. He didn't trust her, and he didn't like her, but so far she'd tried to be nice to him. He at least could offer her a drink couldn't he? He owed her that right? “Just be careful with the backwash yeah? I don't want your spit in my bottle. I don't want cougar spit anywhere near my drink.” That didn't mean he was going to be angelic about it though.

When the girl finally approached him to do his head, after his small game that was, he wrinkled his nose, took a deep breath, and let out a short, sharp cough. She'd made some other grandma like comment, threatening him, but he'd figured by now she was going to try and help him no matter what. If she was going to hurt him, she'd had enough time to do so. She was just someone to tease now, someone to poke fun at while she serviced him (not necessarily in the way he'd like), and then he could forget her face, forget her name, and sprint off again into the night. The reason he'd gone over there, looking to help her because she was young, no longer seemed important. He wasn't going to stick around to help her. His conscious was clean, and would remain so even if she was hurt. She was old, and she had a gun! Not even he had a gun!

However, despite his decision that she was safe to be around, he still watched her wide eyed, a little terrified as she attached thread to her needle. She wound it carefully, holding up to her eyes. Jun gulped, hoping she was as qualified as she said she was. He watched the needle's point, shining brightly in the light. It had an evil glint, and he wondered what it would feel like if she missed the area she was meant to be sowing up?

She approached a moment later, telling him to close his eyes, telling him he wouldn't feel anything. Reluctantly, he offered no resistance, shut his eyes, and leant his head back so she could reach it better. “Alright alright! Just...be quick! And watch my beautiful face. I want only want one scar! Any more and then I'd just be ugly.” With that, he let one eye flicker open, a slit appearing between scrunched up lids. He had to get one last look at the needle, one last look at her, make sure she was not doing anything that may harm him...