⇨ THE EPILOGUE

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 61
Where: The Carnival
What: After all the rescues team return, it will be matter of tending to the wounded and getting the hell out of dodge. The Ringmaster can handle the fleeing part, but someone will need to look after those in the medical tent. Or, maybe, you just want to show up and ask what the hell happened.
Warnings: Some messed up consequences of faerie fuckery.

IN REPAIR↴ As the minutes tick past, all four rescue groups will eventually return. Everyone in the carnival is encouraged to help out, ensuring that the rescues and victims both are taken care of after the fact. You can tag in here as rescuers taking care of business around the carnival, victims recovering, or other workers checking in to see what's going on. This log is for general aftermath threads, made by anyone.

Comments

[scientificist]

It would be nice to have an anesthesiologist, or an RN, or any number of specialists, but Herbert simply has to handle it on his own. He can never decide whether he likes the chance to show off his genius, or if he's irritated and wants more qualified help. Truly, he contains multitudes.

He actually happens to be taking a break from his work to stretch at the moment Lambert wakes up, so he looks about, sighs, and heads over with a glass of water. The curtain has been pulled away, precisely so that staff can notice what patients need in the absence of a call system. Thankfully, Lambert has been put in a hospital gown. Everyone has already seen far too much of his ass.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asks, holding the glass out for Lambert to take.

[whattaprick]

It takes Lambert a few long moments to process that question, blinking at Herbert and the glass slowly like he hasn't quite realized what he's supposed to do with it. The slit pupils of his eyes are unevenly dilated still, slow to respond to light, but his breath comes even and steady.

"Wh'ch part?" he slurs, trying to sit up. This is mostly a futile effort, since his limbs aren't inclined to cooperate.

[scientificist]

Oh hell. Good point. Herbert really needs to get used to these not being proper hospital beds, with the ability to prop up a patient. He sets the glass down instead, and sets to slowly wedging Lambert up to a safe angle for water with various pillows nearby.

"Any of it will do fine," he says, a little breathless from the effort. "Or we can start with your name if you prefer."

[whattaprick]

Sorry Herbert. Lambert isn’t a light man, but the witcher does his best to help, even if he seems a little dazed and the range of motion he has on one side is stiffer than it should be.

“Easy,” he grunts, once he’s actually up, squinting at the doctor dubiously like he half-expects him to disappear. “I’m Lambert.”

As for what happened ... that’s a bit indistinct at the moment, and he lapses into silence as he tries to recall. “We were fightin’ a fae.” Ignatius. He’d gotten burned. Automatically, one hand tries to grope up along his own arm at the memory.

[scientificist]

The arm in question is, at this point, bandaged and probably already feeling a lot better. It's good burn cream, and the second iteration of it at that. As far as his chest and abdomen and head go...it's a good thing he's on painkillers.

"Do you know where you are?" Herbert asks, and hands the water glass over now that Lambert is presumably vertical enough to not drown himself with it. He continues talking without actually waiting for the answer. Lambert seems basically as fine as anyone could be, with his injuries. "I had to perform surgery to deal with your internal bleeding so you'll want to avoid exertion even when you're well enough to leave--which won't be for a while. I can't do anything about your ribs--they're still broken but they'll heal as long as you're careful."