[log] THE BUNKERERERENING [closed]

[phaseshifter]

Characters: Angel, Handsome Jack and Rhys (plus Dumpy)
Location: Building 43 (square I9)
Date: Morning 62 onwards
Summary: Norfinbury's greatest hero Handsome Jack selflessly protects his beloved daughter from the dangers of Norfinbury by shutting her in a basement with no way of contacting the outside world. Oh, and Rhys is there too, he guesses. Whatever.
Warnings: Self-harm! Abuse! Kidnapping! Threats of violence! Handsome Jack!


Wow Louise did a log with an unnecessary cut WHO'D HAVE THUNK IT

Gonna put up starter/s in the comments because this could last for a while

BUCKLE UP, KIDDOS

Comments

[lacecase]

[Yes, yes, okay, let's do this. Black thread? Check. Needle? Check. Confidence? Good enough! Her favorite cutest men are counting on her so she's not going to let them down! That's what matters the most. She pulls her best determined, blood doesn't scare me at all kind of face, her working materials in her hands and prepared!]

Okay! Sterilize the needle, right! With...the sterilizing solution?

[...yes? No? She tried. She's trying. She's not a medical person, it just sounded fancy enough to be right!]

[dr_unconscious]

[Oh bless her heart. The kind of sad humor of Ginger's attempts at sounding competent masks how concerned Clayton feels for her ignorance, and how that ignorance is about to be applied to his face. It's okay. He just needs to be patient with her and explain things thoroughly, she'll learn, and everything will be okay. He can do this. They can do this.]

[He breathes a sigh and a chuckle.]

Ah...if we had some alcohol 'r hydrogen peroxide, maybe. Heat'll do. I got... [A beat as Clayton winces, awkwardly shuffles through his coat pocket. He fishes out a small book of matches.] ...here. Hold the needle over flame few a few seconds, all sides. Might wanna hold it with a rag 'r somethin' so you don't burn yer fingers.

[warriorscribe]

[Enoch returns to Clayton's side with the soaped rags and reaches out to clean the edges of the wound as instructed, a hand at the back of his head to discourage flinching away too far. To keep himself distracted, he does one of the things he does best: ask questions.]

Is it the dryness it brings or the heat itself that makes fire cleansing?

[lacecase]

Heat! Okie dokie!

[Ginger takes the matches and works on that while Enoch makes sure the wound is as cleaned as possible. Luckily, she at least knows how to light a match (not that her sister ever really trusted her around candles, but...birthday cakes were a necessity!). She finds a scrap of cloth in her bag to protect her fingers from the fire and does as Clayton instructed, holding the needle over the flame, rotating it around until she's covered everything and the match is about to burn out.

With the needle prepared and thread at the ready, she nods.]

Okay. What next?

[dr_unconscious]

[Enoch distracts himself with questions, Clayton distracts himself by answering them. A nice compromise they have going here.]

--The heat. Heat itself. Bacteria that'll infect ya die off in it. Ideally we'd sterilize with steam, so--

[Clayton cuts himself off with a wince and an instinctive flinch away from the first few dabs at his cheek. Good thing Enoch has a hold of his head to keep him steady.]

--ah--sorry, sorry. Steam. Wet heat, still works. Works better, matter a fact. Need t' wipe down that needle...Ginger, there's cotton swabs--one a the med kits in that sheet tied t' my backpack. Wet one 'n use that.

[warriorscribe]

[That's going to be a theme here, unfortunately.]

It's no problem, [is the immediate, instinctive reply to Clayton's apology, gentle as the hand that cleans the wound.] It's only natural.

[And he continues the conversation, seeing that it's helping Clayton, too.] So the hot water that house provides is even more useful than I thought...

[When he's done, he returns to Clayton's other side, leaning on the chair with his hand on the back. It may appear casual from a distance, but he's tense, glancing nervously at Ginger occasionally when he doesn't think either of them will notice.]

[lacecase]

[Ginger does her best to try and not notice Clayton's flinching away from Enoch's work as she quietly searches for the cotton swabs. She tries not to think about how if that makes him flinch in pain, the needle's just going to be worse. Much worse. Much, much worse. She doesn't ask any questions while she does exactly as the good doctor instructed, preparing the needle for action. She doesn't really hear them talking about the medical aspects--probably wouldn't really understand it much if she did.

All Ginger hears is her thoughts, reminding her that this is going to be okay. She's going to do a good job and make him better and nothing's going to go wrong. Nothing at all. It's fine. All of this is fine. Just fine. Did she mention it's fine?

It's not until there can't possibly be anything left to wipe from that needle that she finally says something.]

Is there anything else? Or...are we ready?

[She's not ready, but that's not what she's going to let herself think about anymore. All she needs to know is that they believe in her to do this, and that the needle's clean enough it won't infect him. And, well, anything else specific he has to tell her about stitching a face, of course.]

[dr_unconscious]

[It sounds like they're all about to have a lovely time. Clayton attempts a smile, a weak laugh.]

Yeah...awful lucky find, that house. [Not doing a good job at smiling. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath instead. This is fine. Everything's fine.] ...We're 'bout...'bout as ready 's we're gonna be. Got the thread ready? Know what kinda stitch yer gonna do? [He opens his good eye and glances at Ginger, deadpan.] Clean socks 'n underwear?

[WE'RE ALL JUST GOING TO JOKE AND RELAX AND LAUGH ABOUT THIS LATER OK OK]

[warriorscribe]

[Enoch circles the chair to resume his position perched on its armrest, one arm bracing him on the back until he's balanced. He hesitates to secure Clayton's head as promised. No matter how much he's already told himself it's not as bad, the air of nervousness is reminding him all too well of the toes incident, and for a moment, he's in a glassy-eyed daze, distracted by how suddenly thin the air seems.

A deep breath of his own brings him out of it, and he rests a hand on the back of Clayton's head, inviting him to lean into his hold himself instead of just restraining him outright. This is his injury, everything happens on his word.]

I'm ready so long as you are.

[This particular low tone, using his voice's naturally soft quality to hide wavering, is one Clayton will have heard before.]

[lacecase]

I was thinking maybe, like...a simple lock...

[Ginger trails off at the comment about socks and underwear. Normally, she might laugh, but in this instance the fact that it's a joke completely goes over her head. She blinks and looks down at herself, totally not getting it. But then Enoch speaks, and it definitely helps distract her from her own confusion.]

Right. Um, I'm ready!

[She quickly finishes unraveling the thread that she needs and tying it off in a knot. After threading the needle, she takes a breath and gets comfortable on the arm of the chair beside Clayton. With her free hand, she brushes some of his hair from his forehead with her knuckles and tries her best to look encouraging.]

I'll get you fixed up in a jiffy.

[And with that, as soon as Clayton's head is fastened in Enoch's hold, Ginger carefully slides the needle into the skin at the top of the wound. She focuses on keeping her hands steady, in making sure she doesn't ever push the needle too deep. And...trying not to look at the blood. Desperately trying.]