exsiliumlogs | i wonder what went wrong so that she had to roam the streets

Entry tags:

i wonder what went wrong so that she had to roam the streets

Date & Time: July 13th, evening
Location: Near the native hospital
Characters: Halfpipe (

sweetling) and Law (

100hearts)
Summary: Halfpipe has a run-in with an Exile that leaves her bleeding. Luckily there is a certain doctor around to save the day.
Warnings: Violence/gore, discussion of gore, possible discussion of sexual content because Halfpipe, foul language... with these two you may as well put down every one in the book.

She got restless at night.

She knew better, of course, than to go a-wandering round the city without protection. She'd found a crowbar to thrust through her belt and a jacket long enough to hide it and thick enough to keep the rain off of her skin, still bare from lack of clothing to fit her tastes. She was a scrappy little thing, knew how to hold her own on a street. And she wasn't even out to solicit--she would be fine.

Halfpipe had gotten plenty of weird looks, sure. People didn't look quite so colorful in Exsilium as they had in Outer City. Whatever, she'd figured; if she was strange-looking to them, maybe they'd leave well enough alone.

She was wrong.

A sleazy fatso in an old hoodie whistled at her walking by in her thigh-high boots; Halfpipe snorted, flipped him the bird. Never had that been enough provocation to set a two hundred and fifty pound man on her with a knife. Yet that was what happened.

She left him with a concussion, a broken collarbone, and a K.O., in return for taking his shank and a couple teeth--quite generous, for her standards--but she still found herself bleeding quite a bit. Nothing I can't handle, she'd thought, scowling. Not after Beezal had wrecked her face, at least. And so she coughed blood into her fingers and pulled her jacket tight around the stab wounds in her bare stomach, and started to head for temp housing, where she'd stashed a sewing kit that would do the trick well enough.

Halfpipe thought about going to the native hospital when she passed it--but no. They wouldn't help her. So she kept walking, breathing heavily, blood dripping down her legs.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't care," Law's morose response came with ease. Moving beyond the Native's peripheral clinic, Law found himself confronted by something he felt mild disgust in. A young man, drinking rum straight from the bottle. He kicked a dog in his way that had barked at him, trying to get his attention. The animal, hungry, had learned that people would often times let him have food if he begged. Law, watching this, felt something in him twist. He wouldn't admit it, but the man had some lingering attachment to animals. Nothing too strong, but he had his own little weaknesses.

The man had been crying when Law cut him into pieces. His 'Room' turned the alleyway a tinted blue shade. Intentionally, Law guided his hands through the air and stuck different parts of the man's body to the walls of the alley, just as Halfpipe had started walking down in his direction. His eyes followed the darkness of the alley, ignoring the pleas of the man as he struggled, trying to move the separate parts of his body. Understandably, it was terrifying--but, the dog simply barked at Law, looking up at him and wagging his tail.

"Hm," Law made a noise, acknowledging Halfpipe's presence. "You look a wreck. How long have you been walking like that, miss?"

Halfpipe jerked to a stop at being acknowledged; she hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings. When she looked up, she jumped.

"Shit," she swore at seeing the pieces of the man tacked to the wall--not bleeding. Transport, she thought. A psycho Transport.

"Look, man, I don't want any trouble, alright?"

Law paused. He didn't care to explain the situation--instead, he turned his sword over and flipped it through the air, the blade itself sliding into its sheathe without any further gesture by Law's hand at all. Law looked from the native man towards Halfpipe, apathetic.

When he turned, his tattoo came into clear view. He only wore an open white smock from his earlier shift, along with a pair of black jeans.

"You're overreacting," Commented the dark doctor slowly, leaning his now sheathed sword over his shoulder. The man screamed and he ignored it, in favor of taking a look at the blood running down Halfpipe's hip and leg.

"I don't have any reason to screw with you."

Halfpipe took a faltering step backwards, eyeing the screaming dude's... pieces. She wasn't in any shape to run...

Well, she was gonna need an explanation.

"How do I know that, if I don't know what you sliced 'n' diced that guy for?"

"You'd know if you bothered me," Had been Law's somber response. He looked aside to the dog, gesturing by snapping his fingers to call it over to him. Explaining himself would be a pain and Law scarcely cared if anyone misinterpreted his actions for good or evil. What he cared about, in the end, had been his own whims. He was supposed to be someone who could be the Pirate King. If he cared about peoples' opinions, then he would die young and never reach that goal.

"I don't really care what you think. If you give me a reason to retaliate, then I'll understand your concern."

His eyes fell to her side, again.

"As for that stab wound, it looks like you'd have good reason to be worried about confronting anybody."

She was hardly going to trust him. Despite his point, she had enough experience with nutjobs to know that they sometimes knew how to wait it out just long enough to get you comfortable. She glanced at the dog, wondering how the hell it hadn't run off yet. Maybe the dog had the instincts to trust this guy, but generally screaming was not conducive to keeping animals around.

Halfpipe's eyes dropped to where her coat hung open, revealing three stab wounds of varying depth that dripped down her leather shorts.

"Yeah, well, I got a reason to be concerned here. I'm fallin' to pieces enough without you helping. You gonna shut him up at all? You're gonna draw attention and the locals ain't gonna be happy."

"I suppose I could electrocute him," Replying slowly, Law contemplated it. The man was liable to tire himself out eventually anyway and even then, it wouldn't be too difficult to repair himself if someone came to help. If anything, Law wasn't at all interested in doing the repairing himself.

"But, it doesn't matter."

Said as casually as possible, Law watched as the dog barked again and stepped a bit closer to him. Seemingly uncaring, Law pointed down the alley and the dog looked, almost understanding his gesture.

"Hurting you while you're injured wouldn't really interest me anyway, even if I had a reason to have a confrontation with you. So, how about this--I'm a doctor. If I stitch you up properly, how about you get me something to eat?"

It was as thinly veiled a request he could make to see if he could get that dog some food, too.

It would not be the smartest idea to let this guy anywhere near her, and yet... at this rate she wasn't gonna make it back to the temp housing unit in time.

"How does it not matter? Fuck, how is he even still alive?" she wondered. "We can talk about stitches and food when you tell me that."

He shouldn't have been too surprised, but Law had expected less defiance. Most people bleeding from the gut would have asked for help the moment they saw someone and ignored most other things. Halfpipe's level of awareness was nothing short of interesting. He craned his neck, reaching over to pluck one of the man's arms off of the wall. He turned over the flailing limb, showing the part where it was severed--a blank, translucent film coated the part where he was cut, keeping his blood and muscles from pouring out. If anything, they functioned eerily well, as if nothing damaged them at all.

"I'm an operation man," He said, easily enough. Law didn't care much for explaining his powers, but one could say he was bored solid out of his mind. "To make it simple, if I want to cut somebody without hurting them, I can--as long as they're in my operating room."

He emphasized this by reaching over and tugging his fingers through the air, the man's body parts coming off of the walls and spinning through the neck of the alley freely. The man couldn't scream--too tired to do a thing. The dog barked in the direction of the limbs, eventually growling whenever a body part grew too close. It was evident the dog didn't exactly like him.

"I have control over this whole space. Like I said, you'd know if I had a reason to hurt you. I wouldn't need to lie or screw with you at all, since you're already in my Operating Room."

Once he explained it, Halfpipe seemed to relax just a little. Half of that was probably from blood loss, the other from learning that Law wasn't actually murdering and dissecting this man at the moment, just scaring the shit out of him. Depending on his offense, that at least was something she could get behind.

Despite how vulnerable being within his space made her, she sighed and leaned down to pet the dog.

"Alright, doc. Stitch me up. Not like you can do me much worse than I already am."

Despite the rain, she shrugged off her coat, her bloody crowbar clattering to the ground, revealing that underneath she was dressed in little more than black leather lingerie and tall boots. "I might pass out on you, though. Getting to that point."

With a miniscule twitch of his finger, the man's body came back together, but in a very wrong sort of way. His legs were where his arms were supposed to be. His arms were attached to his neck and his torso was left at the bottom, making him look like a four-legged insect. If anything, Law didn't seem to mind as the man looked around, trying to make heads or tails of his new situation.

"We'll see," He commented, turning and extending his arm so Halfpipe could take it. Making someone walk on their own seemed unreasonable, especially when he was offering them medical care.

"I was interested in investigating a few new abilities of mine. If you pass out, then food may just have to wait."

Halfpipe gave an eye to the mismatched man, but at this point she was not really invested in whether or not he was going to be okay.

"I'm gonna bleed on you," she warned, but took his arm anyway. At the last second she reached down to scoop up her coat and crowbar; they'd be too much hassle to replace.

"New abilities? Ugh. I hate being a guinea pig."

"Something like that," Law didn't raise a brow to any of her concerns. They were understandable, after all. Though, she wasn't really the first guinea pig in the first place. Law tested everything out on already grave-bound patients. It seemed antithetical to try those things on patients who had a fighting chance. In a few cases, he surprised himself by things turning around as a result.

"If you're interested," Law droned on, knowing a good way to distract from pain was to distract with worse pain. The pain of having to listen to him start an overwhelmingly boring explanation about his new abilities would have to suffice.

"I turned in my weapon to the armory and got a new one. I can make my blood into either a sedative, a powerful anti-biotic or a painkiller," As created by little sterile syringes he could summon from his fingertips. All in all, he was satisfied by the efficiency of the power, but his interest was in seeing results with healthy patients.

"You might like the sedative," He quipped dryly, imagining the stab wound was taking its toll in spades. "Judging by that blood loss, you've been walking with it long enough that your muscles are probably in fair condition. I don't mind the blood itself, but it'll be a pain if your legs give out, so tell me if you feel them numbing up."

"Yeah, alright, drug me up. Painkiller would be nice, actually. Save the sedative for when I can be sure where I'm gonna wake up."

Pain was not anything new to her, but it was not something she sought, either. "Didn't know you could trade in your weapon, though."

Useful info, if she ever got tired of her own special brand of sex magic.

"I imagine," Law replied with that bored expression, leading Halfpipe as the dog ran around behind them. When Law reached a certain point, he hiked a brow and then turned his hand over, deciding to go the lazy route. Without hesitation, he snapped his fingers and the three of them vanished, reappearing in the middle of a dark procedural room inside the hospital.

His 'room' had its own conveniences outside of combat and basic medicine.

"But, that's nothing I'm too interested in talking about."

Halfpipe blinked at the sudden change in scenery, than swayed a little as she squinted in the dark.

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't a hallucination, but I'm starting to think I've fallen down the rabbit hole into a shitty horror movie. What are you interested in talking about?"

Despite her horror movie comment, she lurched forward towards the table and huffed as she heaved herself into a sitting position on top of it. Under the light he'd notice not only the trio of stab wounds, but a mostly-healed strand of stitches trailing vertically down from just under her breasts to her hip.

"We warped," Law replied easily enough, sticking his hands in the sink so he could wash them. He lathered himself so carefully that one could have confused him for a normal doctor who cared for his patients intimately and didn't just practice medicine out of cruel interest.

"That aside, I have no inclination to start a topic I know interests me. I'll get bored, knowing the extent of what I want to say," He finished--drying his hands. Rather than putting on a set of rubber gloves, Law actually let his skin 'glisten' a little. His new-found ability sterilized his skin, coating it with a thin layer of its own protection.

From his index finger, the metallic tip of a syringe came out. A little translucent glass surface rose up, showing a clear liquid filling up inside his finger, "More so, you can talk about what you want. If you surprise me and I find myself really interested, then it'll be better than if I bore you."

Halfpipe kept her eye on Law from her position on a table, sort of regretting her decision but knowing she couldn't change it at this point. Her eyes widened a little at his syringe-fingers, but then she drew her gaze to his face instead. He'd already expressed that talking about his abilities was not something he was particularly interested in, and to be honest, she was getting tired of info dumps.

"Most people don't get bored talking about what interests them," she commented wryly, pausing to breathe. Passing out was becoming a more viable option now. "Of course, most people also don't have weird warp abilities or syringes for fingers or take a dog home after they cut up some dude.

"Which is odd, by the way. Why the dog?"

It was pointless to really hold back on his reasoning at that point. Though, he wasn't planning on giving Halfpipe a sedative quite yet--all he did was shove his syringe-laden finger into her left thigh. It didn't matter where he injected here, really--but, he didn't want the site of her wound to be numbed out, yet. The anti-biotic pumped in and after that, he cycled in a little bit of a pain-killer.

"I cut him up because he kicked the dog," Law droned on, removing the syringe and breaking it off of the tip of his finger. He disposed of it in the disposal bin on the wall aside from himself, his finger regenerating back to what it had been before. "As for my interests--I want to keep them interesting. I don't enjoy drawling on about something I like, since I'll eventually find a flaw in it and it'll bore me to death soon after. If I keep finding new and interesting things by experimentation..."

He raised his hand up, pulling a hook needle and thread from his pinky finger, as if they were just under his skin, "...That would be better."

She bit her lip as the syringe punctured her leg. Ow, but it wasn't like she had a lot of room to complain.

Halfpipe kept her eyes on his face instead of his needle a blinked, her eyelids feeling heavy despite the lack of sedative. "Flaws don't make things boring," she replied. "Flaws are the most interesting part."

A strange man this was, indeed.

She glanced at the dog sitting happily and curiously on the floor, tilted her head. "You cut a guy to pieces because he kicked a dog, so that makes you either one ruthless fuck or one unparalleled softie. Probably both."

Law spent a deal of time inspecting Halfpipe's puncture, just to make sure there wasn't dirt in it. Though it was tough for most people to tell, Law had an eye for it. Many wounds he dealt with on a regular basis came from dirty people and if anything, Halfpipe had outdone them in cleanliness by such a gap that he'd be able to see individual specks of dirt on her skin, even in her blood.

He didn't give her warning as to when he was going to start. The hooked needle went in twice and he began pulling at her wound as carefully as possible, his stitches going in with the sole purpose of keeping the wound as closed as possible. Infection was one thing that was altogether possible, but it could be prevented with maintenance, cleanliness and tight stitches.

Ignoring Halfpipe's second comment, Law continued on, "Flaws in what you enjoy can shorten the time that you'll actually enjoy them. Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?"

Halfpipe was a stickler for hygiene for a variety of reasons. Even Angelfuck had found it strange. But when you lived in a place where organs withered inside you from the toxins in the air and the water, and replacing them wasn't on your to-do list, then keeping clean was a priority.

It was all she could keep to do from jumping and squealing when the needle jabbed her; it was then that Halfpipe decided she'd better keep her eyes on his hands, even if it was more uncomfortable that way. She did not miss his ignorance of her last comment, and threw a short glimpse to the happily panting dog before returning her gaze to the threading needle.

"But nothing is flawless, so you gotta love things despite it. That, or accept the fate of forever becoming disenchanted with the things you enjoy."

Which Halfpipe was suspecting that Law had done.

Law quickened his pace. The longer he spent sticking the needle through Halfpipe's skin, the more she could feel it. Thoughtlessly, he embedded the needle with his 'will', making it just a little sharper. The sharper it was, the fewer nerves he'd strike and the more likely it was that she would scarcely feel it all, especially with the painkillers slowly coursing through her.

"There's no need to worry about me becoming disenchanted by anything. It's already happened."

The best things in his life, anyway.

"Done," He finished with the skill of a world famous surgeon. Law could do heard and lung surgery in the depths of the ocean in a constantly rocking submarine, after all.

"I kinda figured," Halfpipe answered.

She watched her wound close up almost magically and clicked her tongue, prodding gently near the stitches. "Bang-up job, and I didn't even die. Thanks."

At which point she dare to give her first big grin of the night.

"Of course not. I'm a good doctor," Law responded curtly, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. Though Halfpipe was in a considerably better place, that didn't cover for the blood she lost. When he was done washing his hands, Law reached over to his elbow and began tugging on his skin. From beneath his skin, an empty IV bag rose up, which he hooked to the little examining table Halfpipe had been set on. He connected the bag from his wrist to Halfpipe, waiting for her answer.

"What blood type are you?"

He would have to know so he could adjust the platelets himself.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject