fandomhigh | Medical Post: The Gym

Current Mood: worried

Entry tags:

!event: snow weekend

Medical Post: The Gym

Susan, Zhaan, and others have numerous cots set up with dividers, and a table with their instruments in one corner of the gym. They are treated the injured and preparing for more casualties. After some quick and hasty introductions, they got ready for any incoming patients and hoped there wouldn't be any.

ETA: Post is closed to new play as of 11:22 EST. If you're injured, come into the clinic tomorrow-- the doctors are as fried as their players.

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Tommy comes over. "What happened?"

"I think he got hit with snowballs. He was leaning out the window, yelling something."

Tommy snaps on a pair of gloves. "Let's get him over here to the table. What'd he yell? The location of where he got that outfit?"

"Um, no. I think he was trying to get people to all get along down there."

Tommy snorted. "Yeah, that'll work. Hey kid, can you hear me?"

[ooc: Rundown of the wounds and what you need Tommy to do?]

Blair groaned softly and if he were totally awake he would complained about being called a kid.

[ooc: smashed in the head with iceball that knocked him out for a bit. Several small cuts from glass on his face]

"C'mon, Moon Unit. Let's see if you can remember what day it is." Tommy checked him for signs of a concussion, then moved on to examine the wounds on his face.

Blair groaned and blinked rapidly. "Moon? Nighttime?"

CJ takes Blair's hand and pats it softly. "Tommy, don't confuse him more."

"All in good fun," Tommy said, unconcerned. He got some supplies out to start cleaning the wound. "Hold still, kid, this is going to sting."

Looking down at the hand that held his, Blair smiled. "Hi there."

Blair winced and glared at Tommy. "Not a kid"

"You've got attitude. Good. Means you're not dead yet." Tommy checked to make sure that there was no glass in the cuts.

[ooc: want stitches?]

"What's your excuse?" Blair reached up to his face to check the damage.

[ooc:go for it]

"Having the biggest balls in the room." Tommy swatted his hand away. He used his foot to haul a chair over so he could get the right angle for sewing up the wound. "Now hold still or it's a needle in your eye."

"Man, that's..." Blair gulped and averted his eyes. "I don't swing that way, not that there's anything wrong with that."

"No one wants to hear about your balls, Mr. Gavin." she says tersely, watching him prep the sutures.

"Too late now, isn't it, sweetcheeks?" Tommy replied. He kept working as though this was nothing to him.

She arches her eyebrow and smirks, just a little. Not quite sure if he's just about the most disgustingly charming city boy she's ever met, or if she hates his guts...she lets it go without comment.

Tommy finished up on the stitches. He gave Blair a once-over to make sure he didn't miss anything. "Okay, Sandburg. Hit me. What day is it?"

"Saturday still, I think." Blair waved towards his head. "Will it scar? Cause that wouldn't be so bad..."

"Should be fine so long as you don't pick at it," Tommy said. "Take some asprin or something if the pain gets to you. Or hit a real doc up for the harder stuff."

"Thanks, man." Blair stood slowly. "I'm going to go see if people need help. Or maybe find food or something."

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Medical Post: The Gym

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