ten_fwd_npcs: (beverly)
Ten Forward NPCs ([personal profile] ten_fwd_npcs) wrote in [community profile] ten_fwd2015-02-21 06:47 pm

[Sickbay]: Round Eight Scans and Vaccines



O-kay, so things have been a little ... odd on the ship. Some people have been acting rather out of character, ducking their duties for romantic escapades or complaining that their good friends aren't quite themselves. Romance may be in the air, but the CMO has other ideas. Like maybe an alien pest who likes to play tricks on people. Her sickbay hasn't gone unaffected, but luckily the strange effects are beginning to wear off and people are returning to work. Still, she's prepared to treat anything. Just please assure her you were safe and responsible if you, uh, made a special friend.

If this is your first trip to Sickbay, you may be surprised to see that it's a fairly ordinary-looking hospital. There are no terrifying devices or humming machines you might see in a sci-fi thriller. The biobeds along the walls are equipped with biofunction monitors, but look fairly standard. Instead of silver trays filled with metal tools and sawblades, there are an array of small devices that look as harmless as cell phones. As for the staff, they're all well-groomed and friendly. As a matter of fact, all personnel look harmless. Well, relatively harmless.

If you're new to the ship, no doubt you've been escorted here by the security team. Nothing to worry about, the doctors just want to make sure you aren't carrying any viruses or are vulnerable to terrible space disease. Once you've been checked over — a quick scan from a tricorder and any necessary vaccines — you'll be free to go. Lollipops are optional.

"All right, step on in," one of them calls out as you enter. "Don't be afraid. It's just a scan and a hypospray, nothing to worry about."


[ooc: Sickbay is, as always, OTA! For new characters: tagging isn't mandatory but IC going to sickbay is. If you'd prefer to skip threading with one of our doctors, you can handwave that your character got a clean bill of health and a shot and were sent on their merry way. For those who are tagging: if you have a preference which doctor sees your character, please specify in the subject line of your tag who you would like (Beverly Crusher, Julian Bashir, Sam Wilson, Mack Gerhardt, and Merlin are definitely on deck, with possible appearances by others). There is a post up in the OOC comm with more details if you have any questions.]
bienmourir: (Default)

OTA

[personal profile] bienmourir 2015-03-05 12:03 pm (UTC)(link)
In truth, with Enjolras' bloody and somewhat unusual arrival he hadn't really left sickbay since day one. There was something about showing up with eight bullet wounds that really tended to throw a place into a tizzy. Nothing, of course, that the medical personnel of the Enterprise weren't equipped to deal with- but still, not exactly expected.

He'd barely spoken to anyone at first; partially because he wasn't able. Two of the slugs had ruptured his lungs, another had grazed his heart. That he hadn't been dead the instant he was winked in was either a miracle, or some sort of perverse, and twisted curse. He could not decide which. Keeping him alive had been a close thing, even with all of the Enterprise's advanced medical technologies.

So, there he was. Sitting up carefully and looking forlorn, gently prodding at the places where the wounds that should have killed him had been, trying to come to grips with everything he had witnessed and experienced thus far.
loiseau_ou_la_cage: (Default)

[personal profile] loiseau_ou_la_cage 2015-03-15 12:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Elizabeth wasn't a doctor, but she was a compassionate person. Once she had her shots and her infant was looked over she made her way over to the man who seemed to be confused and under heavy medical intervention.

She smiled softly and approached slowly. "Do you know where you are, or did you just wake up?"
bienmourir: (Hᴇ ᴋɪʟʟᴇᴅ)

[personal profile] bienmourir 2015-03-16 10:13 am (UTC)(link)
He turned his head, blue eyes heavy and haunted as they briefly flickered up to her face, before sliding back towards the floor once more, and turning away entirely. He wasn't sure what he ought to say; if there was anything at all for him to say. In the end, he gave her a slow, careful nod. Licking his lips, he hesitated a moment longer, tongue feeling thick and foreign to his own mouth.

"They say we are in space," he said at last, voice heavily accented in the way of the French, "I have not been awake long," yet even so, it still felt too long.
Edited 2015-03-16 10:13 (UTC)
loiseau_ou_la_cage: (taking a moment)

[personal profile] loiseau_ou_la_cage 2015-03-16 11:01 am (UTC)(link)
There was something in his expression that struck a chord deep in Elizabeth's heart. He looked so lost, but not because he was in space. She knew the feeling of being a stranger in a strange place, but he seemed to be suffering more than that.

She wondered if she ought to ask if he was okay. In the end she decided it was a ridiculous question. Instead she simply nodded in reply to his comment that they were in space. "We are. You're safe, if you were worried about that."
bienmourir: (Wᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ)

[personal profile] bienmourir 2015-03-17 08:57 am (UTC)(link)
He gave a sharp, sardonic snort at her reply. In some faraway place in his heart, he understood why she might have thought that his sense of safety mattered, but nothing seemed to matter at all anymore. He should have died with his friends, but by some cruelty he had found himself here instead. Trapped without means of return, robbed of the martyrs death he had stood and prepared for willingly.

"Safety is an illusion, especially here," he replied dryly, "How can anyone claim to be safe, when they have been stolen from their home? How could safety even matter in such an instance- when there are far greater concerns to be found at hand?"

He stared at his own hands, eyes darkening and lips thinning as the blond avoided looking over at her.
loiseau_ou_la_cage: (sad)

[personal profile] loiseau_ou_la_cage 2015-03-19 10:41 am (UTC)(link)
"There's no greater concern than that of one's safety. At least, none that apply here." Elizabeth spoke with conviction. She'd sacrificed herself for a cause as well. His attitude was far too familiar. "You'll have quite a learning curve I think. This is a good place. Try not to worry." It was the best she could offer him because it was all just a bit too much. Remembering her pain after Rapture wasn't high on her list of things to do.
bienmourir: (Bᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪɴsᴜʀʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴜsᴛ)

[personal profile] bienmourir 2015-03-23 09:06 am (UTC)(link)
Enjolras wasn't sure what he ought to have made of this advice; certainly wasn't sure whether or not he should be insulted or not. In the end chose not to be, simply because he sorely lacked the energy to do so.

"What did you say your name was?" he asked, though knew she had yet to give it Doubted her name would reveal anything more to him about this place or it's purpose, but still- having a name to call her by was far better than guessing, or worse, using Grantaire's method of just making up a nickname where necessary.
osirian_doctor: (Medical: Medicines)

/sneaks in with a doctor

[personal profile] osirian_doctor 2015-03-28 09:05 am (UTC)(link)
For a ship that, so far, has found itself in fewer scrapes than Serenity, with only a couple of planetside visits since Simon arrived here, and only one of those being particularly traumatic, Simon is still finding plenty to occupy his abilities as a trauma surgeon.

The young man had arrived dressed like he was from the ancient past, and wounded from some sort of firefight. It had taken the doctors on duty long and difficult surgery to save him, but they had, Simon and his new colleagues.

Trauma surgery was always what he was best at, and the new time and world makes no difference to that.

He's not on duty for the scans this month, but he does have rounds to do, so when he sees his latest patient, he takes a tricorder and goes over to him.

"How are you feeling?"
bienmourir: (Bᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪɴsᴜʀʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴜsᴛ)

[personal profile] bienmourir 2015-03-29 10:57 am (UTC)(link)
The look that Enjolras spared Simon spoke volumes about how he was feeling. There was a bitterness in the expression that he couldn't quite manage to suppress, a measure of anger that they had saved him at all that Enjolras did not care enough to keep himself from feeling. His lips pursed, blue eyes narrowing slightly with disdain.

"I am not sure how you would have me respond to that question," he replied, his tone icy, "Surely you can already tell with that device of yours," he gestured slowly to the tricorder, his shoulder still stiff, still sore from where a bullet had utterly shattered his clavicle. He immediately regretted the motion, wincing and pulling his arm close to his body once more. No matter what medicine he had been treated with, there were phantom pains too that remained, that would likely never be so easily dismissed.
osirian_doctor: (Talking: Frank)

[personal profile] osirian_doctor 2015-05-03 08:47 am (UTC)(link)
He's familiar with bad patients, and it seems that he has one here. But he's spoken to enough of their guests to know that not everyone is necessarily familiar with the level of medical care available here or with doctors in general. He's not certain what to expect from a man who'd arrived riddled with wounds from a weapon that hasn't been used for hundreds of years.

The cold response is not entirely unexpected. Simon glances at the tricorder and shrugs.

"It can tell me about tissue damage and healing. What progress your wounds are making. It can't tell me if you're in any pain, or how you're adjusting to being in a place you doubtless never even knew existed, let alone expected to find."

He is keeping an eye on the tricorder for what it tells him, but he's also doing his best to watch his patient.

"The way you're moving that arm suggests you're in pain," he says, with a nod towards Enjolras.
bienmourir: (Bᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪɴsᴜʀʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴜsᴛ)

[personal profile] bienmourir 2015-05-05 10:06 am (UTC)(link)
Enjolras did not consider himself to be a bad patient, even now. A stubborn one? Yes, certainly. But at least he was usually agreeable to allow the doctors whatever they wished to do. He may not have had much to say to any of them, but he let them run their tests, take their samples if they wished. Was generally easy to work with; would roll here, move there when he was told, even if he did not give them much in the way of answers to their questions whenever they came. After all, what did he have left to lose here? Nothing. Everything that he had once valued seemed already lost to him.

His gaze dropped to his arm where it was folded carefully against his stomach, his silence near deafening in the expanse between them. Likely, it seemed as though he would not bother at all to speak any further, or answer Simon's question to continue the assessment. At long last, though, he parted his lips. Sighed, and began.

"There is pain," he agreed softly, "Though none of it is any less than what a man as I deserves. I should be dead. That I am not- that is what I have trouble adjusting to, doctor. That is what pains me the most. Do you have a tricorder for that?"

He lifted his head then, blue eyes squinting in stern judgement at the other's face, lips thinning as he awaited an expected answer.
osirian_doctor: (Talking: Hands clasped)

[personal profile] osirian_doctor 2015-05-24 04:03 pm (UTC)(link)
There is no simple cure for 'I should be dead'. There never has been. 'I should be dead' is a judgment of the person making the statement, and Simon has no idea what the young man in front of him has done, or what sort of a person he may be. But Simon is a doctor, and as a doctor, there are some things that he holds irrevocably as true, and the fact that no patient of his should be dead is one of them. No person in his charge, no matter how much he dislikes them, no matter what they have done.

So his expression softens, somewhat, as he looks back up from the tricorder.

"No. There isn't. But there's also nobody here telling you who should live and who should die. I was dying when I came here. I'd just been in a battle, and I'd been shot in the stomach. I ... still don't know if I'd have survived if I'd stayed in my own world."

The tricorder shows satisfactory healing, as it should, with the surgery Enjolras has had. His mind, though, that is something harder to treat, even in a fully staffed and stocked infirmary such as this one.

"That doesn't mean that I should be dead any more than you should."
bienmourir: (Hᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴇʟsᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ;)

[personal profile] bienmourir 2015-06-04 08:22 am (UTC)(link)
"You saw the nature of my wounds. They would have claimed my life, and you should have let them. Perhaps then I would be with my friends," and yet perhaps not. Did it matter? He was not with them; he had not died with them, as he had expected. As he had wanted, asked for.

"I did not ask for this, it was never my will- and what I wanted was never even made a consideration," he scowled. If he had known that DNR orders existed, he might have asked for one the moment they had found him, drowning in his own blood and quickly bleeding out.

"And now I am here, for god only knows how long," he did not even attempt to disguise the bitterness in his tone, gaze sliding away once more.
osirian_doctor: (Talking: Arms crossed)

[personal profile] osirian_doctor 2015-07-01 10:10 am (UTC)(link)
"Do you honestly believe anything would be served by your death?"

Simon, too, has seen death. He's seen his friend die while he frantically tried to save him, and he'd been there when they'd all realized that Wash wouldn't be joining them for the fight against the Reavers.

If the others had died? If River had been killed? If Mal hadn't made it back? Would Simon, too, have felt there was little to live for?

Perhaps. But that does not mean he is eager to allow that same sense of despondency to sink into a patient here.

"We didn't have the opportunity to ask your opinion. But many here choose to think of finding themselves here as an opportunity for a new start. Perhaps that is what you have been given."