(2015-11-25) Inflicting Healing
Inflicting Healing
Summary: Isabeau plays doctor.
Date: 25 November 2015
Related: Injured Parties

It's early in the evening, and Isabeau makes her way back from the petting zoo, with company in tow, and a basket of eggs under arm. She peeks around the door to the infirmary, "You gentlemen decent?" Not that it matters much since she's making her way in anyway.

Yup, Dixie is in two with Isabeau, and she most likely took it as an opportunity to look for signs of missing Hopers as well. Her scoped rifle currently hangs over her shoulder, and her pistol is at her side. It seems like she was ready to stay out if she found a trace of anyone, but sadly, it wasn't the case. "Wakey, wakey, hands off snakey!" the girl from Alabama calls out, as she trails after Isabeau into the room, being her charming self as always.

Elijah had fallen back in and out of sleep after their visitors had left. Currently, he was somewhere between wake and dream land. Enough so that when the arrivals announce themselves, he jerks up against his pillow, blinking groggily before grimacing against the throbbing protest put out by his leg. "Hrm?…" the doctor asks, eyes squinted in post-sleep fashion as he looks to them.

Quinton's been quiet since his outpouring of poetry earlier. His bed is near the window so he's been staring off, thinking. He saw the group walk by so it's not a surprise when there's a call out to them, although he does wince at the volume. or perhaps the idea of what the words are asking. that doesn't sound appealing at all , currently. Quin's moving slow, like he's underwater as he turns to look at those that entered, but he doesn't say anything.

Isabeau moves over, quieter and only mildly apologetic, pulling back the towel over the basket and showing Quinton the eggs. "All the work you put in paid off Mate. Omelettes, all kinds of good brain food." She tosses a look over to the Doc, "Need anything?"

Well, neither of them are dead, which is a good sign! Dixie wanders over towards the injured Doctor and she crouches beside his bed, though a little awkwardly with the rifle on back. "Hey Doc, you want something to drink?" she asks out of worry. "Remember, you ain't allowed to get worse." She takes a deep as she looks over towards Quinton. "Double goes for you, Mutton."

Groggy Doctor was definitely not as composed and proper as alert Doctor. His body slouches back into the pillow, hand running through his bed-head auburn hair before rubbing over his face. A slight grimace stays in place as he looks to Dixie with still sleepy eyes. He manages a nod up and down "Water…please." Well at least his manners were still there! He then looks over to Isabeau, before answering a bit quicker and with more urgency "Medicine. Please. Leg hurts…"

Terry heads into the tent, figuring he should get checked out. Izzy did do a decent job patching him up, but a second opinion can't hurt.. can it? One hand's bandaged up as though he's been in a fight, and he has a few cuts and scrapes. He walks just fine, though. Marines, go figure.

Quinton looks a little green around the edges at the sight of the eggs. All that work to gain a few pounds is going to be undone in the next few days, he's thinking. He frowns and slowly raises a hand to rub at his eyes, "Highbrow food." What does that even mean? He swallows and tries again, glancing at Dixie, "We're tumbling, resuscitation won't happen mid air." While his words are odd, there's no stutter as there usually is. No hesitation or need to force them.

Isabeau furrows her brow and mouths the word mutton, eyeing Quinton curiously as, though wondering how the skinny guy got the name. The Doc's plea, however, has the vet stepping over to her bag. "What are you dosed with Already doc?" Moving over to the counter and studying what's available. Maybe it's just familiarity that has her pulling out the BAS (Big-ass syringe) and a vial of something from the supplies she picked up earlier. "And How lucid do you need to be?"

Dixie tilts her head to the side as she considers Quinton's strange comments to her, and she purses her lips as she tries to translate Quintonese into English. "Well, I reckon it'd be safe to say that we are in a transition period. We'll get back on our feet again." For the Doctor, her hand moves towards her own canteen and she unhooks it from her webbing. The cap is unscrewed and she holds it towards the man's lips. "Take little sips," she offers. She's not going to help where medicine is concern, as she's not a doctor.

Elijah was usually the one who tended to or helped people. He always felt awkward about accepting assistance himself, but either he was still groggy enough or just in enough pain to not care. He takes the water from Dixie in the small sips indicated, then lying back against the pillow. "Thank you…" Then he nods to Dixie and lists whatever medicine had been put into him originally, having made sure to ask.

As for the lucid question. He thinks. It isn't like he was in any state to try working on people anyways. Besides, trying to 'tough it out' with his gunshot wound last time had taught him better. "I don't have any plans…" he manages to give a small smirk at least with that. He shifts in his bed to try and get ready for the shot, grimacing again. It was obvious he was not well accustomed with pain endurance.

Quinton just gives a soft sigh. He knows he's not saying it right, but now especially he can't seem to help it. Thankfully no shots for him. Although Piper did manage to get some pills down him earlier, that's been about it. Pale eyes blink and the poet shifts slightly on the bed, trying to move to lean against the wall so he'll have an anchor. And not sway so much when he sits.

Isabeau grins, calculating out a human sized dose. "I am not responsible for any embarrassing confessions or babbling as a result of your medications. Do not drink alcohol or operate heavy machinery while under the influence." Taping the syringe and getting the air out. It's quick at least and probably feels quite strange. Injection delivered she looks between the soldier and the Doctor with something of a rather amused smile. "You might just have to settle for the vet again." Her gaze flickers back to the poet, brows knitting together. "Makes you miss the good old days when you could run an MRI and see exactly what was going on eh Doc."

Dixie closes her canteen when Elijah has finished drinking, and she quickly returns it back to her webbing. Though when he starts to rattle off the medicine, she quickly plucks her notepad and pencil from her pocket and tries to jot down the medication. "I ain't certain I even know how to spell any of them," she admits without shame. When Isabeau steps towards the Doctor, the young corporal steps back to let the vet do her work. She also glances towards Quinton, and she arches a brow when he moves. "He'll be alright. He's had worse," she comments casually, as if Quinton being caught in an explosion was a daily occurance. "Nothing stops Mutton for long.

Elijah keeps the smirk with Isa's disclaimer, "Noted…thank you…" Better to thank her for her help before he's too high to remember! He knows better than to tense with the injection. That wouldn't help any. So instead he stares at his covers, taking in a breath and exhaling it slowly to relax. There. Done! What a good patient, Eli was! He closes his eyes then, exhaling again, hearing Isa say something else but not really catching what…just nodding.

A soft grunt escapes Quinton, there's got to be a position that's better than this. It wouldn't be so bad, the vertigo, if his body wasn't sore everywhere too. And the ringing would just go away in his ears. It's down enough he can hear, but it's bothersome. If he hears himself being talked about, he doesn't respond. Instead he softly asks, the first words that aren't some type of poem, "…Water?" And that hitch is back as well. The question is directed at the room, whoever is closest, or will help.

That is not a valid player.

Dixie makes her way around to Quinton, and she removes the canteen from her webbing again and offers it towards the man. "I will leave it here," she offers, as she puts it down on the side. "I have a spare one with my things." She takes a step back and she looks towards the door. "If anyone needs me, I'm going to head out to look for our missing people. Hopefully find Hippy." She actually looks worried, as she starts to make her way out, but she does offer a wave.

Isabeau still doesn't get the nickname, but she doesn't seem to see the need after a certain point. "Going to try to ride out tomorrow, see if I can't find a couple old horse drawn wagons," Isa announces as she starts rooting around in her kit. "Come on Soldier boy lets make sure you didn't pop any stitches during your riding lesson, Doc I'll change your bandages too while I'm at it. Hope you don't mind iodine." Isa calls over going back to her bag and fishing out the iodine and fresh bandages as she watches Dixie depart.

The doctor is doing fine for now, the medicine not quite kicking in. At least not in any sort of loopy department. He did feel some of that warmth starting though, relaxing a bit more against the pillows at his back. "Iodine is fine…it gets the job done" he offers Isa a small smile. However, with Dixie's departure, and her mention of missing people…specifically 'Hippy'…he frowns. His gaze goes back to his bandaged leg.

Quinton nods softly to Dixie, but her words don't register till she's out the door, "…Missing….H-h…" The man didn't know anyone of their's was missing. He starts to attempt to scoot to the edge of the bed, every intent on standing up.

Terry nods to Isa. "Alright. Ready to roll when you are." He feels the urge to stretch.. and scratch itches.. but most of those itches are stitched wounds healing. Bah.

"Don't think I met Hippy," Isabeau notes with a soft frown as she lets the Doc have a few minutes to let the drugs really set in before she's poking and prodding at things. "Doesn't look like there are any signs of infection yet, but puncture wounds are a bitch." She tips her chin at a place for Terry to sit. "Don't rightly know half of you folks yet, should probably rectify that." There's an odd moment as she finishes up the Doctor's bandages, before moving over to check Terry's with liberal use of the iodine. "How many missing?"

Isa's words are enough to make Piper second guess her coming back while the other woman was around. She shakes her head,rooted to the spot for a moment as she stares at Isabeau for a long moment. The doctors rambling really doesn't register, Quinton trying to get his shoes on does though and not she is conflicted, the war inside her starts, run from the woman who wants to touch her or help the poet..though probably won't be with his shoes.

See! If you aren't high as a kite blame the good doctor. No needles? No problem as that doesn't seem to be stopping him, though. "Great, should have brought my cattle rope." Isa mutters, but fortunately, Piper is probably going to have the much better approach to the situation. The Iodine bottle and bandages are tucked away and Isa fishes out the tube of medicine and setting it on the corner of the counter for Piper. She does also fish out a dose of Tylenol for the poet, also set out on the counter for Piper, since the woman has a much better bedside manner. She perches on an empty stretch of counter and watches quietly.

Elijah falls quiet for a few moments, perhaps having fallen asleep as his head was lowered and his chin rested against his chest. However, after awhile a noise could be heard. It started soft and barely audible before it rose to be a soft low tone. Humming. The doctor was humming. No melody particular just…humming. With his eyes closed.

Quinton's not seen Piper, and Isa's words only encourage him to give up on the laces and start to shove his foot into the other shoe. he needs to go look, even if it's only for a bit. Terrible, terrible senarios roll through his brain fro what could have happened.

Piper eases over to where the bottle of painkillers are and she grabs those. The iodine is ignored. Maybe she wants her face to get all infected and fall off. She's pretty good at reading people and realizes she is going to be going Isa's dirtywork here, but she's fine with that. She pads over to where Quin is struggling his his shoes and takes a knee to cover his hands with hers.

Isabeau watches Piper with the poet. quietly observing them. She's the outsider here, after all. "Would It help If I went out to look for them?" She asks after a while, trying to rack her brain for some sort of solution to the problem. "You go out like you are now you won't be any good to anyone, but I can cover three times as much ground." Looking between all of the camp hopers then "I'm probably in better shape than the lot of you at the moment by virtue of not being there when things went down. If you really believe they can be found, that they weren't," Blown to oblivion. "I can do it." There's a swallow with the words.

Quinton stills when the hand is placed on his instead of looking at her, his eyes close. "…Have to…lost…falling…." His eyes open but he's having a hard time focusing on Piper, much less Isabeau's words, "Gravity is my enemy , falling, pulling, breaking the lace cocoon." Oh, well….the poetry is back. Is that a good sign or not?

Elijah would continue humming, going up in pitch every few notes before pausing and lifting his head to look at Isa. "No no…" His head shakes as a hand comes up "Not here. She was before. She was at camp. Lost or…separated or…" he pauses, frowning. Then shaking his head again. "No. Lost. Definitely lost…" Not 'or'…

A glance is given to Isabeau at her suggestion and then a brief shake oh her head. Nothing is going to help Quinton right now, but patience and distraction. Popping open the pill bottle she drops two into the poet's hand "I know." she might even too, "First." she gently pushes the hand with the pills at him "Then…" she taps his feet just hard enough so he knows that she is indicating his shoes.

Isabeau watches Piper and Quinton, curious and some other emotion that isn't as easy to define, perhaps nostalgia would be the closest but even that word doesn't seem to adequately fit.

"Nebraska?" Moss green eyes focusing on the good doctor then. "That's a different problem then," She notes, those brows knitting together, and there's a knowing glance tossed Terry's way, but no words spoken. "That kind of search requires a plan."

The grimace that flashes across Quin's face is pained, but doesn't stay for long. He nods, "The dark wings cut the air, barbed wire restraints when it should protect." The two little pills are looked at, and sways , staring until the boot is tapped. Again, his voice is strong, almost like he's recited things on stage before, "The wolves will know. We hunt the packs, their pelts will warm us and serve as a flag of no surrender." He looks up at Piper, and then past her. He has nothing to take the pills with, so he just holds them.

Elijah nods in agreement with Isabeau "Yes. Plan and time. Time to plan. Planning time…" The doctor then looks to Quinton with a lofted brow "You shouldn't…leave. Bad idea." He looks to Piper, hoping to convince her though his tone was off it's usual pitch, a bit more airy almost. "Baaad idea. Make him stay."

The first bit of that was a bit cryptic, it will take a bit for her to interpret that but the bit about the wolves is clear to her. It vaguely reminds her of the talk they had when he was concussed the first time…or was it when he was shot…so many injuries. Recognizing the pill dilemma Piper stands to go get a glass of water. As she does she graces both Eli and Isa with an expression that clearly says, 'I got this." and then she is back kneeling near Quinton and placing the glass of water in his other hand. "Pill…shoes." her tone is soft pitched not to carry, but it's a smallish room so that's kinda pointless.

Quinton sits there, almost confused when Piper disappears, but she returns with water and a compromise. Pills for shoes! It's like the world's most awful game of Catan! He nods very slowly, the pills into his mouth, then a very slow sip of water.

The expression Isabeau gives Piper is a deeply grateful one. The right person for the job, clearly. A soft smile given in thanks. Her attention is focused on the matter of plans and time, something tangible and easier to mend in her mind. "First question, though, is are you staying, or running." Isa sniffs. "Everything else depends on that first problem, and how many more," She struggles for a word. "Attacks you might expect."

Elijah nods to Piper, coherent enough to see the woman has a handle on the situation. Or just too high to understand so nodding to seem like he did. Then, with Isa's question "Staying? Running?" He thinks a long moment on that…glancing down at his covers. Back to Isa. "I'm…SITTING!" In an instant a droopy grin spreads across the doctor's face in an expression like a 5 year old who just burped the alphabet. "HA!" The exclamation is followed by a brief string of laughter and finally quieter giggles. Yes. Giggles from the young man as his hand comes to quiet the rest of his laughing.

While Quin takes the pills Piper works on getting his shoes on properly and tied. She may not wear them herself but she knows how they function at least. Once he is done taking the meds she takes the glass and sets it on the nightstand is once more on her feet, though leaning over to hook an arm under his "Up." she's seen him like this more than once, she knows what to expect when he gets to his feet….though he could be full of surprises…let's see.

Isabeau eyes him, and tries not to laugh. "I think that's my cue to go find Bob." Dark green eyes moving to Piper, "Thank you, if you need anything I'll be around camp for a while." She looks between the Doc and Quinton. "Doc I'll be back later and we'll maybe lower the dose just a tad."

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