[She fumbles for the phone trying to pick it up, her hands are shaking. This is not her favorite way to wake up- Not that it's anyone's favorite way to wake up. Blood has soaked through the sheet covering her chest, its sticky uncomfortable against her skin, so she moves it to get a look. Her fingers dipping down to brush over wounds she has no memory of receiving.

Eyes lock for a moment on fingers coated with blood, she casts a quick glance down, but a sharp pain in the center of her chest is really all she needs to confirm her suspicions, she's not dreaming, that pain is too real. It makes her vision white out around the edges and forces her to drop her head back on to the pillows, huffing a few ragged breaths to keep herself from passing out.

She injured. Gravely, by judging by how erratic her heartbeat feels in her chest. It's out of rhythm and painful. Breathing is difficult... Her already bloodied hand rests over the wounds on her chest, applying pressure to the worst of the wounds peppered across it.

But none of that can be seen at the moment, the view is of the ceiling in her room. Her fingers grope along the edge of bedside table trying to find her damn phone, she needs-- ]

Ahh! Fuck..

[Hissing through clenched teeth, she curls for a moment around herself, the phone forgotten. Her hands tight fists against her chest, when she finally manages steady herself again she glances over at the table and spots the phone, and reaches out finally getting a grip on it and bringing it to her. She turns the device in her hands and smearing blood across the display. Once she has a proper grip on the phone she can finally be seen.

Deathly pale and sweaty, she looks like death warmed over and is taking shallow sips of air to keep her heart-rate down, because... it doesn’t seem to hurt as much when she doesn't let fear try to sink it's claws in her.

She fumbles the buttons, and turns the feed off. Cursing to herself for not noticing that it was already open she manages to get it turned back on, her eyes close briefly with from the relief of managing to at least establish an open line of communication. ]

I-... [Her voice is barely a wheeze, she pauses to let out another small slow breath. Yes, even in the face of possible impending death, she can still find a way to hold on to her calm resolve. Deal with it. There is no panic in her voice, yet.] I may need help.

[ In all honesty Jesse hasn't intended to make another post. He much rather just sit back at the Welcome Center and watch things go by him. But when he wakes up on one cold November morning with blood-stained sheets and pillow and realizing that doesn't know where the hospital is, he's pretty much out of options. It hurts too much to text like last time, so while he tried to use audio, the blood on his fingers made them slip and press on the video option instead.

In the delicate handling of his little network device, the video screen seems to have blood smeared around the edges.

For some reason, his communication device seems to be hold shakily - yet Jesse shows both hands cradled his chest, blowing at them while his arms are equally cut up, the blood staining the shirt he arrived in. ]

Where's the hospital? I woke up with all the cuts, I don't remember getting them yesterday.

( background )

[filtered from Li and her friends (but Li and Chekov could likely hack)]

[The goal had been to make a discrete voice post, filtered from her friends and him, calmly asking for advice.

That had been the goal. It's not the reality. The reality is, remembering how to do the filters had sufficiently flustered the already upset Korra that she accidentally turned on the video. You're treated to the sight of a young woman who is alive but clearly has not been sleeping.]

Uh, just out of curiosity... What happens if you do something that could get you sick while you're City dead, and then somebody makes a deal and you're not dead anymore? Can you still get sick from the thing before?

[It's been a few days since it happened, but this idea is only now occurring to her. She clearly wishes the Earth would eat her alive. Also no idea how sex works. She is in desperate need of an adult. Or a hug.]

[action]
[She's struggled with this for days now, but she can't put it off anymore. She and Mako need to have a talk.]

[ It's late, or early, depending on how you look at it. Stiles' jeep is idling on one of the dirt roads into the forest and the feed shows the dark blur of baby blue before he lifts his device to flash a crooked grin. He's happy about something, maybe he's been exploring, maybe he's just pleased he's able to talk without bringing down the apocalypse on anyone's head. And if anyone thinks that's an over-exaggeration they haven't met Derek.

He's about to say something, mouth already forming the words when his whole body jerks forward. He shudders, a punched out hiss of pain passing his lips, the sound chased suddenly by a dark splatter of blood bubbling up from his throat. His device drops to the forest floor, Stiles' falling beside it before the feed ends. ]

(( ooc: so most of the replies will come from the hospital after Derek's dragged him there. His wound comes from Teen Wolf - 'Heart Monitor' and is borrowed off Derek and his lovely gutting by the alpha. action for the werewolves, video/audio for everyone else. He'll probably be loopy off of pain meds too, enjoy ))

[ By slamming down the device on his bathroom sink he's somehow managed to turn it on. Not that he's paying any attention, opening a bottle of vodka with his teeth and pouring it over the bare wound in his shoulder. It looks like he's been stabbed, or it does when he twists to try and see it in the mirror. ] Fuck.

[ Bloody fingers pick up his shirt and press it to the gash, huffing out a breath before he's trying to grab for the needle and thread. That's pretty much when he sees the little blinking light. ] Anyone wanna fess up ownership of this one?

Is it pathetic that I almost wish this was permanent?

If you have something of mine [...Pause.]

Well. Sorry for you.


[[ooc; Switched scars with Jimmy. He is assuredly having a bad day.]]

Fuck!

[The sound of whimpering, he's not crying, or screaming, damn it, he's just fallen in the middle of the street. All he wanted was a coffee.]

I'm dying.

I'm fucking dying.

[And still trying to crawl to the hospital.]


[ooc: victim of a certain rat's gutshot. Thanks Freddy.]

[Luke chooses video straight off in order to communicate his issue. Namely that there's a lot of blood everywhere. He's sitting on the counter and he's got a self-made bandage wound around his right hand. It's bloody, but it's smeared on from another source. His chest, in fact, which he's been apparently digging into himself if the bloody kitchen knife just on the edge of frame indicates anything. There's the shaft of an arrow slightly further into frame, which the head has been yanked off of.

Or rather, vice versa. The hole in his chest isn't actually visible, as it's obscured both by his shirt, and a half-red towel he's holding pressed against it.

He tries to speak as cheerfully as usual, but there's a definite pained tone to his voice.]

Does anyone have the time to dig out this arrowhead? I can wait a day if I must, but it sort of...grates between my ribs. I can't shift it, or myself, properly. It's really wedged in there. I don't know. Someone's bound to not be cursed, right? Someone with...pliers?

Today is busy. Very busy. I don't have time for a formal Q and A. Let me save you some googling. Read while you wait for the next available medical help.

( First Aid for Newbies )

[There's a moment of quiet that stretches just a little too long, before Aziraphale speaks up in a rather strained tone.]

Well, this is certainly... unpleasant.

[Master of understatement.]

Er-- I think perhaps I ought to say something about the virtues of patience and endurance, but honestly, it's difficult to take that seriously at the best of times. I only hope that those of you who are able to, er, get about, are willing to aid those who aren't.

Crowley, you might bring some towels.



[ooc; fml please pretend this was earlier in the day .-. and augh backtags tomorrow. He's stuck with Dulcie's bleedy gunshot wings.]