2014-07-25 Breaks, Bumps, and Scrapes
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Ember Drake Hank
GMed by Random Acts of Spongebob
Title: Breaks, Bumps, and Scrapes

The call came in late at night, about an hour after reports of a building explosion in Chelsea: Drake and Ember were on their way back home and one of them was not in the best way.
Which one would be fairly apparent upon their arrival; Ember was being helped inside by Drake, keeping her weight only on her right leg and biting her lip sharply any time she had to move her right shoulder or if anyone brushed up against it. Her control over her illusionary appearance, while still good enough to pass casual inspection was spotty and faltering to anyone who's spent time around her, with bits and parts of her real appearance flickering in and out of visibility.

Drake is in considerably better condition, save for a few bumps here and there and some tender fingers. Well, that and some smoke inhalation. And while that's well and good, his level of concern is still pretty high. He's had long enough to simmer down from the initial worry of how extensive the damages done to the girl at his side might be, having had to walk/carry her along the way, but it's still there.

"Y'know, for someone who seemed unwilling to hit the medbay earlier, you're doing a bang-up job of staying out of it," he teases with a forced smile. And once they enter the medical facility, he scans the room quickly. "Doc?! Got a live one here!"

Hank was at least given some warning of their coming and he already has the med bed preped and ready for her. As the pair comes in he leaps over and then, with the gentleness of a man holding a ming vase lifts Ember off her feeet and lays her gently on the table. "Try to hold as still as possiblew while it runs it's scans." He says gently, turning to Drake. "Tell me what you know." Pointing at a second medbed obviously intending for him to lay on that one.

Ember tries to stop herself from laughing at Drake's wisecrack, but still coughs out a soft chuckle before wincing as the movement jostles her shoulder. And then she's in Hank's hands and then on the medbed. She winces sharply and bites her lip even harder as her body adjusts to being on her back but she nods and manages to move only a little as the bed starts its diagnostics. With the wincing, biting of the lip and other physical reactions to her pain, she is eerily silent. Product of an upbringing where crying out just brought more pain.

While the medical technology available here is beyond top of the line, given its pedigree, it hits some hitches as it scans Ember's not-entirely-organic physiology. But even with her different biology, injuries such as these aren't hard to track. Cuts and abrassions, both deep and shallow along her back and legs. Some moderate smoke inhalation. Her left shin broken not far below the knee and her right shoulder blade and colarbone cracked in several places.

Drake moves as indicated to the other table and hops onto it, sitting instead of laying. The notion to lie down hasn't occured to him simply because of the disparity between his condition and the female's. Compared to her, he's right as rain. "My ABC's, how to tie my shoes, not to talk to strangers… oh, you mean with her?" The teen flashes a guilty little smile to Hank. "As it turns out, deflecting a falling ceiling isn't one of her powers. I think her leg might be broken, and her shoulder's screwed up. Those are the big things."

Hank gives Drake a /Look/. One of those looks that says while I appreciate a good joke as much as the next blue furry mutant, now is not the time or place. He nods slightly and checks the readouts on the bed which more or less confirm what he's just been told. "Ember, I'm going to put a small patch on your leg. It will feel very warm for a moment then the pain should ease while I set the bone." His tone calm and professional. "Drake that bed requires that you assume a horizonal position to aquire a proper reading."

Ember nods to Hank as he talks her through what's being done. She gave up on maintaining her appearance shortly after being placed on the bed, so she's lying there as her sliver-blue, diamond dusted self. As Hank puts the painkiller patch on, she visibly relaxes as a large portion of her pain is eased away. "Thanks, Doctor Hank. That's better." She speaking just past a whisper, but at least she's speaking. "Couldn't keep the fires contained, the ceiling braced and get Felicity moving towards the door at the same time. Not sure what building it was that exploded, but… it wasn't pretty in there. At least one person turned into burger meat, but one survivor also." She pauses before Hank sets her leg, forming a solid-light mouthguard to bite into when it happens. Not because of the pain, but because watching your leg drastically change shape like that is cringe worthy.

"It requires me to what?," blinks Drake. He glances to the bed, then Hank, then figures out what he's saying. "Oh. Geeze, man, could'a just said to lay down." He promptly spins a quarter-turn on his rear and lies back. His head quickly turns to Ember as she speaks, frowning. "S'true. There wasn't anything that could be done to keep the building standing. But at least one guy got out."

He exhales a breezy sigh- which promptly gets cut off with a mild bout of coughs. "Woo, sore throat."

As soon as he realizes what's happening with Ember's leg, he looks the Hell away and prays it isn't noisy.

The noise isn't loud persay, though it is disturbing on multiple levels. a shifting crack and then it's over and Hank begins applying a binder to it to hold the bone in place. He then moves over to look at the readouts on Drake's bed. A quick glance and then he brings over a small tank of oxygen, hooking it to, what is known iun scientific and medical jargon as "That nose thingie" and placing it on Drake. "You must have breathed in a good deal of smoke." He informs the young man.

Ember relaxes a tiny bit more as her leg is set to rights and put in its lovely new imobilizing device. While Hank is working on Drake, she wiggles her toes a bit just to reasure herself that she still can. Then she shifts to the left so that she's not putting any weight at all on her right shoulder and nods at Hank's comment about breathing smoke. "There was a lot of smoke in there, yeah. Drake got the survivor we found out. Had to shift debris off of him, so no surprise he was breathing heavy."

Drake gets the mask treatment and crosses his eyes briefly in an attempt to look down at it. "Seemed like the thing to do at the time," he remarks quietly. After a beat, he adds, "Do I sound like Darth Vader in this thing?" He attempts to emulate the breathing sounds, only to cause a couple coughs. "Okayokay, I'm done."

Outside of the smoke inhalation, everything else is superficial. Bumps and scrapes! The only one who's likely sustained even less injury is Felicia.

Hank moves back to Ember, checking her shoulder now and taking a deep breath, "How did you two become intertwined in this altercation that resulted in your current physical difficulties and discomforts?" he asks in a professional tone, "Now the pain killer I gave you should help this signicantly…" He says as he quickly and efficiantly sets the shoulder and begins taping it.

"We were out for…" Ember emits a sharp intake of breath as the shoulder is set and immobilized. "… ice cream. Wanted to get away from the mansion for an evening. Chelsea has a great old style ice cream parlour." She flexes her fingers as Hank works on wrapping her shoulder, much the same as she wiggled her toes earlier; a reflexive action to reasure herself that they still work like they should. "We were just walking, eating, and chatting. Ran across someone Drake knew when the building exploded down the street. Drake's friend knew someone in there and was screaming for him. We ran in to help. I smothered the fires, Drake and Felicity found the survivor and pulled him out. I did what I could to brace the walls and ceiling, but couldn't hold it very long. We got out and came home"

"And now you've got a couple new patients," chimes Drake. Should anyone look his way, he'll flash a bright smile, despite it all. Outside of that, he has little else to contribute. He slumps back down onto the bed to just deal with the situation.
Hank nods, at least somewhat reassured that the state of his paitents is not of their own making. "Well you did the correct thing, returning here." He says calmly, moving now to check Ember's chart more throughly. "Some of these will require sealing…" He says taking a tube down, first sterilizing the area and then spreading a bit of the clear liquid onto her skin, which dries and seals the wound almost instantly.

Ember sits up once her shoulder is prepped so Hank can access all the various scrapes and cuts on her back. "I should maybe invest in some body armor. Or up my game with making solid light clothing." She says this half jokingly, but has a thoughtful expression as she says it. While Hank is cleaning and sealing the cuts she looks down at the set limbs and sighs, "Any idea how long these will have me sidelined, Doctor Hank?"

Drake lifts his arms to fold behind his head as a makeshift pillow, reclining back in the bed. "Probably until your limbs don't make poppy, crackly sounds when you move around," he offers cheekily.

Hank sighs, "About six to nine weeks, if you allow yourself proper time for healing and recovery." He says as he as he superglues the last of ember's wounds then Drakes… and finally hands out lolipops…

With lolipop in hand (although she would've preferred a Twinkie from Doctor Hank's stash), Ember considers the time given with a sigh. "That long? Pretty much the rest of summer, then. Thanks, Doc." She settles back onto the bed as Hank finishes and leaves to do whatever else he needs to get done. "And thank you, too," she says to Drake. "I hope that Mike fellow wasn't in there." Her words get a bit slurred as the pain meds continue to work their way through her system.

Drake sits up to let Hank finish dealing with his superficial wounds, and soon, the oxygen is taken away. He makes a small, dissatisfied noise when it is, though. For those not in the know, those oxygen machines are apparati are addictive.

"That's harsh…," he murmurs at a more sincere level. Hopping down from the table, he moves up to Ember's side and sets a hand over her elbow in a careful, consoling manner. "You don't have to thank me. You're my friend. I'll always be there to help ya home."

Ember shrugs her good shoulder, the injured one now being completely immobilized against her side. "Could have been worse," is all she says about the healing time. She smiles at the touch and the rest of Drake's words. "Likewise." After a moment, she nudges him in the direction of the door. "You should get cleaned up and get some sleep. I'm gonna let these nice drugs do their thing. Maybe see if I can't get a tricked out chair like the Professor's in the morning."

Drake drifts back a couple steps from her until his hand finally drops from contact with her. "Alright, alright. And I'm gonna see to that. Spinning rims, spoilers, the works." He takes a couple more steps back. "Sleep tight, Em'."

With that, Drake turns to quietly slip out of the medbay.

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