[Open Hospital Log] Doctor Jones, Jones, calling Doctor Jones

[silentchamp]

Who: Anyone!
What: Ball pains, robot pains, all the pains.
Where: FDC Hospital (or the PokeCentre, Smash Academy's infirmary, dead in the streets, etc.)
When: 27th August - 6th September
Warnings: Pain. Angst. Needles.

For many of those who became involved in the fiasco caused by Eggman and Seth, injuries were bound to come in all shapes and sizes. Maybe some would be lucky, but when you get robots involved and a school filled with people with powers coming out of the wazoo (who might've had the unfortunate luck of getting a face full of catball), hey, who knows what'll happen.

So a visit to the hospital or a visit to Rhys would be good to look into - or simply necessary and best to not avoid if you want to live to see a future of homework and detentions (but in those cases, let's not burden our dear Rhys, okay?).

For the catballed folk, being replaced by a duplicate didn't save you from pain. You felt it. You felt everything. Though there would be no physical marks on the body, dissolving in a fight still would leave you feeling like you just died (because that's what it meant). Physical/mental exhaustion can/will be present, and maybe even some disorientation for those catballed for longer (but seriously what losers got tricked before the 26th right, hahaha-- oh.)

For the robotic folk, getting whacked around until your beautiful metallic shell came undone certainly was going to mean a lot of pain for you. Maybe it wasn't even as straightforward as getting bopped on the head a lot because some people might've caused further complications than necessary in their attempts to stop you/save you. Whoops. Those sillies.

And then you have simply the people who just went out as their normal selves in the name of justice reckless fighting. Did you have fun punching robots? I bet your knuckles just love you right now.

Whether you're looking to get treatment or looking to find friends because they're not answering their phones/not in their dorm rooms, well- these will be pretty good places to look. Enjoy whatever sight you see!

Blue | Cress | Cyrus | Eirika | Red

( OOC: Feel free to say where your character is, what date - or if you just want to play out after the events of cat balls and your character is Too Cool For Hospitals, include it! Or something. Just have fun with all those wonderful bumps and bruises and heart ache. It's what we all want, right?

For those in hospital, the lovely words of Mayor Tabuu were probably on television for you to catch if you want them to be. Or Mewtube. Whatever you want. Yep.)

Comments

[FOR THE FIRST COUPLE OF DAYS.]

[tidalwaves]

It had only been a few weeks for Marie. Not being in control of his body, not controlling what came out of his mouth. Unlike his trainer, though, he found it harder to care. He felt he had done much worse when he had been in control. When the event came to a close, apathy washed over Marie surprisingly quickly.

He was worn, a little bruised, but he didn't need to be in the hospital. However distant he felt from his trainer, though, Marie felt the need to find Red. And he ended up in a hospital bed the day after the fights were over anyway. At his trainer's feet. Curled tightly in his shell, but his stupid fluffy tail stuck out and wrapped itself around himself.

For the first day, Marie didn't say a word to Red. In his Wartortle form, he clumsily climbed into his bed and made himself as comfortable as possible. He didn't look at him, didn't even seem to acknowledge him as his claws made small rips in the sheets as he climbed onto the bed. And he stayed in his shell until the next morning. Any attempt at reaching the turtle- whether it be a gentle hand on his shell, or calling his name- would have been met with absolutely nothing.

Maybe by the second day, Marie would glance at Red. A lazy- almost bored- expression graced his face for most of the time he was in the hospital. As if it were some sort of hassle for him to have to spend time with his trainer, although it was clear he was free to leave whenever he liked.

[tidalwaves]

In his awful mood, Marie very nearly rolled his eyes. Selfishly, angrily, he told himself Red owed it to him to say something. He let the thought burn up in his head, then discarded it when- even through whatever bitter feelings lingered- he realized that was unfair. Untrue. Unnecessary. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but could only find the energy to turn over some of the things Red had said to him during the months he hadn't been himself. He thought of Red's purple blood on his fists before he fell asleep again.

By the third day, Marie moved. Curled himself up in whatever nook he could, by Red's knees. He was thirsty, and tried hard not to blame Red for that. Idly, he thought he had never been this angry with his trainer, and he couldn't even place exactly why.

Sometime during the day, he decided to stop pretending he was asleep, and he looked at Red again. For any signs of consciousness. If he could just hear his trainer say his name, maybe he could stop feeling so angry. In that gentle tone, the one that meant it was really him. That he was curious about how he was doing, that he wanted his attention, and that he was there.

[tidalwaves]

Marie could feel when Red began to stir. Heard his sigh that came when he woke himself. He kept his eyes on the trainer, waiting to be looked at. Waiting to be acknowledged in any way.

Irritation grew quickly. The longer Red simply stared at the ceiling, the more Marie wanted to make a scene of getting off the bed and storming away. Instead, after a few minutes, he started to claw at the sheets. He pulled at them just slightly, just enough to make his presence unmistakably there. He kept his eyes on Red.

Look at me. Say something.

[tidalwaves]

A brief feeling of relief was gone just as soon as it was there. Feeling Red's eyes on him- for longer than a second- was something he had craved more than he was aware of. He tried not to look hopeful when Red weakly lifted his hand.

Marie's bored expression fell to a decidedly disappointed frown. Almost confused, like he couldn't understand why Red wouldn't just touch him. Or open his mouth and say something. Say Marie. Please, please, please, say Marie.

The Wartortle let out a huff when Red's eyes became distracted with something else. He tucked his head back into his shell and stayed there. If Red wanted his attention again, he could ask for it. Bitterly, Marie debated making him beg for it. He wouldn't come out of his shell unless Red whined and carried on about it. In the back of his head, though, he knew at that point he would come out again for anything. A word, a touch, the feeling of being looked at again.

[tidalwaves]

Only on that day did Marie get up to wander. He brooded for as long as he could stand it, but got out of bed when he peeked out to see Red had fallen asleep again. The hospital staff did not seem pleased to have the fluffy, clumsy turtle walking around unaccompanied. After water was found, though, Marie quietly made his way back to Red's room. And he climbed onto Red's bed again.

The dullness of having nothing to do- he'd counted the ceiling tiles already, tried to keep the rhythm of his trainer's monitors, thought of all the cowardly ways he could break up with Voile- easily put Marie in a tired mood. He shut his eyes, his head by his trainer's lap.

He wasn't bored by paying close attention to Red's breathing. The way he could feel Red's chest rise and fall with every breath he took was comforting. Perhaps only when he was so tired he couldn't bring himself to be angry, though...

[tidalwaves]

His trainer's touch caused Marie to stir, albeit very briefly. Long enough to recognize the feeling. His eyes stayed shut, and he kept his head and arms inside his shell. Marie fell back asleep, vaguely comforted.

The next morning, there was a bouquet of flowers at Red's bedside. For the entire morning, all Marie could think of was how much he wanted to knock the pretty vase off the table and onto the floor. And that it was unfair; the type advantage grass-type Pokemon held over him, when water was what was keeping the flowers at his trainer's bedside alive. By the time the nurses came in, Marie's anger passed and loneliness washed over him instead.

Maybe Red would wake up if he heard the crash of glass breaking against the cold laminate floors of the hospital. Maybe he would look at Marie with concern, thinking it had been an accident.

Marie waddled along the side of the bed, and onto the bedside table. With his big, fluffy tail, he knocked the vase onto the floor.

[tidalwaves]

Marie felt a quick jolt of irritation as soon as Red withdrew his hand from his head, but tried to shake it off quickly. He watched intently as Red shakily, uncomfortably shifted himself. Moved himself to make room for his starter. Proudly, Marie tried not to show how pleased he was with that. While the attention was nice, the fact that Red was making room just for him was nice, Red was still silent.

Like an obedient housecat, Marie toddled closer to his trainer and pawed at the pillow, as if that would make it more comfortable to sit on. Once he'd fussed enough, the turtle settled down right by Red's face. If Red listened closely, Marie made a quiet, uncharacteristic, contented clicking sound.

Now you can say hello, right?

Marie nipped at his trainer's nose, as if to further encourage him to respond with something other than a pet.