ArchivedLogs:Beer, Interrupted

Beer, Interrupted
Dramatis Personae Anette, Regan
In Absentia	2014-06-22 Takes place after a robbery.
Location <BOM> Front Porch - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The front porch of the lodge unfurls its way across the entire front length of the building. Stained in a dark reddish finish, it seems to have been refurbished somewhat recently, the sturdy wood rather less weather-beaten than many of the buildings on the island. A half-height railing edges most of the porch, with a wide gated staircase centrally leading to the heavy front door, and ungated ramps at either side end. Protected from all but the most driving of rains by a sloped roof, the porch has been furnished with an assortment of furniture. Wicker rocking chairs, a pair of small square aluminum tables, a hammock at the far right end, a bench swing at the left. Despite the solid locks on the doors and windows, the front door holds a cheerfully flower-edged mat reading WELCOME. The day has been a pleasant one, sunny and warm and out here on the island nicely breezy. Regan looks like she could /use/ the pleasant, a little /wilted/ -- she's dressed still from work, scrubs that are rumpled and /messy/ and sensible sneakers on her feet. She hasn't cleaned up from the hospital yet and has an unpleasantly spitty smell to her past the chemically over-hand-sanitized smell, hair wispily flyaway where she's pulled it back into a bun, a decided droop to her posture where she's melted into a rocking chair and grabbed herself a cooooold beer and a bowl of corn chowder. Cracked the beer open, tossed her feet up onto the railing, and taken a long swig. Her head tips back against the chair, eyes closed and tilted vaguely over towards the late-afternoon sun as she just -- basks. Normally, Anette would be such a beautiful day. Instead, she's stumbling up onto the porch of the lodge, pressing her hand into her shoulder. Her coat leather coat is covering it from view, but judging by the pained expression on her face, it's not good. She's still concious and upright, though already she's a bit pale and her face is covered in thin beads of sweat - to be fair, that might just be from wearing a leather coat in summer. Noticing Regan, she immediately turns to her, her eyes locked on the scrubs. "You...I need help..." she gasps out of breath, carefully peeling back the front of her jacket to reveal a dark stain. Blood. From a bullet wound actually. Here on the island surrounded, presumably, only by Her People, Regan's eyes don't immediately open upon footsteps approaching. It's only at Anette's first gasp that her eyes snap open, fingers clenching around the neck of her beer and her gaze locking on the younger woman's sweaty face and pained expression. Her eyes narrow at first, a thin line of tension creeping into her jaw that sets harder when the jacket is peeled back. Her feet thunk down to the porch straightaway; she leans forward to set soup and bottle down on a table. "Come," is all she says at first, gesturing Anette in after her as she turns into the lodge, heading through the main room and down the stairs towards the infirmary at a rather quick clip. <BOM> Infirmary - Main Lodge - Ascension Island It is a small space, but a crisply clean one. It lacks the rustic charm of many of the other buildings -- in here it is steel and concrete, thick metal door and cold metal tables. Cool white walls. Stark-bright fluorescent lighting. Against the walls there are cabinets low and cabinets high, space between them broken up by steel counters and a pair of sinks, one larger than its sibling on the opposite wall. There is a desk tucked into a corner, home to computer and a pair of filing cabinets to either side. This room holds beds, too, a pair of cots near the back. Centrally there is a segmented examination table, steel as well though its metal is softened by a covering of padding. Occasionally stored against the walls or occasionally brought over near beds and tables as needed, a smattering of monitors and medical equipment give this room clear purpose. An adjoining bathroom has a small shower along with sink and toilet. Anette follows along behind Regan, albeit a bit slower. "Robbery at a Chinese grocery...I tried taking one down..." she says, making her way towards the infirmary. "Been pressing my jacket to it...god, fuck it hurts..." Indeed, it could be worse than it is but it's still not looking too hot. Neither is she, her face already whiter than it was when she arrived. "Bullet's still inside, I think..." "A /robbery/? You what?" Regan's brows are hiking up, now; she flicks a glance over her shoulder at Anette, faintly puzzled. In the infirmary she flicks her fingers towards a cold metal patient's table for Anette to sit on, stopping to wash her hands and tug gloves on. She exhales, sharp and /exceedingly/ displeased when Anette says the bullet is still inside. "... why did you try that?" Her voice is absent, mild as she starts collecting supplies. An eyebrow goes up as Regan begins questioning her in a dissapproving tone. "Well...the first one was about to pull a gun on me...I think I had every right to knock him down. The second...well, I accidentally ran into him. He was holding up some friends and...well, he shot blindly and managed to hit me." She winces as she drops her coat to the ground, revealing large brown wings that had been hidden beneath. "What, should I have let them shoot me?" There's a very faint twitch at the corners of Regan's lips, thin, downwards as she preps her work. "They /did/ shoot you." Her voice is still absent, a little distracted with her task. "Can you take your shirt off?" She moves to Anette's side, brows creased faintly as she moves closer to inspect the wound. "Are you hurt anywhere else? How long ago was this?" Anette rolls her eyes slightly at Regan's response. "You know what I mean," she says, removing her shirt. It comes off with some difficulty as she's not too keen on moving her right shoulder much but it does come off. "Not long ago. Half hour, hour maybe? No idea," she says. "Don't know how long it took me to get here. Flew for quite a bit of it. No, I'm fine. Just tired." She uses her good arm to lean back against the table, relaxing now that she's getting some attention. "You've lost a lot of blood. Tired is understandable." Regan is working, as she speaks, mild and quiet as she focuses first on stopping the bleeding. There's another small twitch at the corner of her mouth, lips pressing thinner together in more distinct annoyance at Anette's roll of eyes. "Certainly, I know what you mean. And what /I/ mean is a robbery is a /robbery/. They bring guns for intimidation. They usually have very little desire to actually use them until some person wants to get tough and start shit with them /first/. They just want to get paid and leave." Anette winces periodically as Regan works but behaves herself, sitting perfectly still. "I didn't want to risk it. I don't like guns being pointed at me. As for the one that shot me...he panicked. I was trying to run out of the store, turned into the aisle and there he was. I think the wings scared him." She conveniantly leaves out the bit where she was holding a knife, conveniently located in the sheath around her waist, now easily visible that her shirt is removed. "Anyway, what does it matter now?" "Doesn't matter now," Regan answers easily. "Hold on, this is going to pinch but after that it'll be numb and that'll feel a lot better, okay?" There's a long needle that pokes in at the skin, poky but bringing with it an anaesthetic numbing relief; after this the poking is more of a numbing tug. "I'd probably leave off the flying for a while, unfortunately. It's going to be putting a lot of strain on the muscles around your shoulder and that'll tear this back open. A few weeks of taking it nice and easy." It's still not /pleasant/ as Regan starts to remove the bullet, but at least it's been downgraded from agony to a somewhat painful pressure. Anette digs her fingertips into the table as Regan continues the work but the anaesthesia does kill most of the pain. "Thanks doc," she groans, focusing on the wall just behind her to try and take her mind off the work. "So...how's your day going?" she asks, in an attempt at chit chat that doesn't involve robberies or bullet wounds. At least not hers anyway. "Exhausting. Long shift. Was really glad to be at the end of it. I'm always glad to finish while there's still sun out." Regan's eyes focus in on the wound, cheeks puffed out and a wisp of hair sticking to her forehead. "Easier this time of year. But the shifts they give residents are --" Her head shakes, slightly. "Remind me to get you a nap and a /nice/ dinner after this." A soft chuckle escapes Anette. "So I'm sure you're loving this," she says. "I'll have to buy you a beer or something for the trouble. Maybe make you a nice thank you card." She glances down to Regan's work briefly, her eyes quickly darting back to the wall. "Everything looking good in there? How's it going to heal?" "Oh, I've patched up a /lot/ of uglier wounds around here. We're uh --" A small smile curls across Regan's face. "A little bit of a risk-prone family. I wouldn't say no to the beer though. A good porter." She quiets for a time after that, very focused until finally she straightens, exhaling sharply. "Like I said, take it easy, and you should probably be alright. Didn't break anything, so that's good. With wings and shoulders I've seen some injuries go /ugly/ but this looks clean." She moves aside, getting a large basin to put underneath Anette's shoulder along with sterile water to irrigate the wound. "Talk to Dusk, if you catch him around. S'been around Evolve now and then. Knows a few tricks to help heal faster." Anette returns the smile. "Well, I should fit right in then. I'm just glad I got out before the cops arrived." At the mention of taking it easy, her smile fades but she sighs and accepts her (temporary) fate. She becomes more alert at the mention of Dusk. "Oh! I need to track him down. I haven't seen him since...all the messiness. Evolve? I might need to swing by." "Yeah. Evolve. Reopened. New management. We try to keep an eye on the place -- kind of quietly. Keep it quiet, keep it safe, don't want any of the trouble there that shut it down last time." Regan slips back into quiet, her own smile also fading as she turns her attention back to the messy task of continuing to patch up Anette's wound. She's going to /earn/ that beer.