theclipper_tlv | Do you feel alive

Entry tags:

steve rogers/captain america

Do you feel alive

Who: Steve Rogers and anyone who wants to get in on his Sick Ward-wrecking shenanigans (or stop them)
What: Steve's using the distraction caused by a few other Patients to get into Sick Ward and do as much damage as possible.
Where: Sick Ward on the Clipper
When: Shortly after Raylan's adventures in the Treehouse start.
Warnings: None yet, please add if needed!

Shortly after Raylan gets started with his assault on the Treehouse, Steve and a small group of Patients rush into the Sick Ward. (Well. The group may be small. A few of them — Steve, Stone, perhaps others — are pretty physically large.)

They look harried. Worried. Like they want to help. There are fires upstairs — and the Assistants trying to handle it desperately need help up there. (Baymax, if he's present, will definitely hear someone yelling Ow! in the distance, up the stairs.)

That's likely enough to get most Assistants out. If there are stragglers, the Patients will continue to insist, maybe even sort of crowd them toward the door. Steve says he knows medicine, can help triage if needed, but he's not an Assistant and can't help with containing things upstairs. It seems to be getting louder. There might even be sounds of an explosion. Also, that alarm starts blaring. Seriously, you'd really better go.

Any Assistants who don't leave will be distracted and clocked on the back of the head, then restrained in one of the Patient rooms. Their wearable will likely be taken. After all, if you can't a) get a clear line of sight on the Patients causing trouble or b) press a button, then you can't paralyze them, now can you?

Then the real fun begins. The group barricades the door to the Sick Ward as best they can from the inside. And they get to work systematically damaging or disabling everything they can. It might not be efficient to slice up and saw through padded restraints with safety scissors and bandage shears, but they're dedicated. The push over "treatment" tables. They break or pour out any containers of sedatives they can find, they kick the dang music speakers, anything they can damage with the limitations of normal human strength and no weapons. It's actually a lot. They're resourceful. And anything they can do to make Sick Ward a little less convenient or usable, they do it.

It can't last forever, of course. Either Assistants will realize what's happening, or the fallout from what's going on upstairs will eventually clash with the operation in progress down here. But for a little while, at least, the Sick Ward is going to be much harder to use to restrain, sedate, and kill (metaphorically, of course) with kindness.

[OOC: Please feel free to have your Patient join in or your Assistant realize what's up and come to stop them! This is open to absolutely everybody. Obviously they know they can't get far and their supplies/options are limited. Steve will make sure everyone's clear that they will probably be punished, though he will absolutely try to take as much of the blame as possible. The idea is to send a message while also making it that much harder to put Patients in mandatory time out for a while. It may or may not work.]

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"Actually, you know what, things are going fine out there," Yunlan says, his smile twisting wryly, "we got the elevator out of order and the treehouse's under Patient control last I checked. But, uh."

He's awkwardly undoing his shirt buttons left-handed, and pulling the fabric away from his right shoulder as soon as he's got his shirt unbuttoned enough that he can manage it. As he gets a look at it, he hisses under his breath.

There are some ugly, spreading lesions across the shoulder joint and trailing down onto his right bicep. The outer edges look like dark bruising, green-black and under the skin, which is what the whole thing had looked like this morning. What's new this evening is, with all the running and lifting and grabbing he's done today, the fragile skin at the center of the lesions is torn and weeping an unhealthy-looking tarry liquid.

"...I probably should've done something about this earlier?"

Steve has never seen anything like it. The closest he can think is... is some kind of necrosis, and whatever it is, it looks bad.

And frankly, he doubts the Sick Ward that has nothing to do with healing the sick would've been able to handle this even without what he and his fellow Patients are doing.

But now he puts all that on the backburner and leans in for a closer look. Steve Rogers is many things, but squeamish is not one of them. "This isn't new?" he asks, glancing up, then goes for the drawer where they had found some antiseptic and those nonstick pads. It's probably a good start. Shoot. Do they have the equipment for a blood transfusion? Maybe B's blood would work like his.

"I had some bruises show up there earlier this week," Yunlan says, making a face at the weird ooze. Ugh, that does look bad. He's seen infected wounds, but -- there's something different about this shit.

"At least they started out looking like bruises. Then they started spreading, and now it's turning into this."

He glances up, expression falling into more serious lines. "They don't have much in the way of real medical equipment around here, do they?"

Yeah, this is not normal, pal.

Steve makes a face, but it's in response to the question. He shakes his head. "No. They really don't." He holds up what he's got in his hands, even as he starts laying it out, ripping open a few of the pads and piling them up. They're going to need a lot of them. Maybe everything that's down here. "This is about it. There might be some antibiotic cream. For cuts."

He eyes the mess on Yunlan's skin. "We might want to try some on that, anyway." It probably can't hurt.

Although speaking of, "How much pain are you in?" He still wants to know more about how this happened, but first things first.

"...Some." The corner of Yunlan's mouth presses flat; it's a lot, actually, but it's not as if they have a lot to deal with that, either. Outside of sedation, and he'd rather not unless it's really too bad to cope with.

"It's okay as long as I don't move that arm around too much," he offers, with the faintest wince.

Yeah, Steve's familiar with the whole art of downplaying pain. He'd asked partly to know how much more he was likely to hurt the guy when he starts trying to clean the wound (or whatever it is), which is right about now. He does glance up at Yunlan first and say, "Well. Brace yourself."

His hands are steady and gentle, but not timid as he tries to get as much of the black goo out as he can.

"We can strap down the arm if you think it'll help," he says, almost conversationally, as he works, trying to get the guy's mind on something else, or at least something tangential. "Or I can send someone to the kitchen, we can get you some ice. Numb the you-know-what out of it."

Yunlan's grayish in the face, teeth gritted over the occasional sharp inhalation, but he manages to paste on a ghastly smile nonetheless.

"Yeah -- no," he manages. "Just get it over with. The faster the better!"

He's no super soldier, but he's very stubborn. And ice sounds like it's just going to hurt even more than the fiery swipes of the alcohol wipes.

Steve can appreciate that. He keeps working steadily, trying not to take more time than he has to but he also wants to be thorough so they hopefully don't have to do this again.

"You know, usually drugs don't work on me unless they're dosed for a herd of elephants. You know any breathing exercises? They're kinda handy."

"No breathing exercises. I'm just imagining -- the face of my most annoying subordinate scolding me for -- being a weakling," Yunlan manages, and rubs his good hand hard over his mouth, taking in one long breath and then letting it trickle slowly out.

"Motivational!"

Even if what it motivates him to do is, unfairly, want to kick lao Chu's ass. At least it's a distraction.

"Let me know when you're done, eh?"

Eh, that's close enough to a breathing exercise; plus he seems about as distracted as he can possibly get while Steve cleans him up, trying to get a better look at what's going on beneath. It's... ugly.

"Oh, sure. You'll be the first to know," Steve promises. And then, "What's their name? The subordinate?"

"Chu Shuzhi. One of those guys who looks at you every time you open your mouth with that expression like 'if I were the boss, we'd have some whippings to shape things up around here.'" He wouldn't put any money on lao Chu not having actually said that under his breath, once or twice.

To be fair, Zhao Yunlan has threatened that out loud once or twice, but his people all know he's full of shit.

"I see," Steve hums; "Yeah, I know the type." He can see how that would get old fast - though also how important it is to keep someone like that under your command in line. "Good thing he wasn't the boss then, huh."

He finally gets the mess on Yunlan's skin as clean as he thinks it's gonna get, and lets out a breath, even as he starts reaching for clean gauze and tape. "Where do you get this?"

"Oh yeah. Though our intern's been trying the puppy-dog eyes routine on him, and it's softening him up fast."

Yunlan takes a long breath of his own as Steve finishes cleaning up his arm, letting just a little of the tension ebb out of his posture.

"Best I can figure is, it's some kind of infection, maybe. I guess about all I can do is keep it cleaned up and hope there's somebody with healing powers around here."

That's not an ideal answer, but those can be elusive, Steve knows. "Well, take it easy - you know." He laughs a little. "As best you can with everything going on out there. I can help you clean it out if it gets bad again. And maybe be careful about touching other people too much until we figure out how you got it."

He has no idea how they're going to figure that out, especially in the midst of what he's hoping will be a successful revolution of sorts, but they can try. "Here, have some water," he adds, handing some over. "Can't hurt to stay hydrated. D'you want me to immobilize the arm?"

"Thanks. -- And, you know what? Probably not a bad idea," Yunlan says, frowning. It'd mostly knocked him down today because of the pain of having it bumped; immobilizing it ought to keep it out of the way enough to keep him able to move around.

Hopefully.

"Anyway," he adds, "I'll do my best to keep it away from anybody else."

"I know you will," Steve confirms softly, almost gently, then goes to grab some of the gauze - one of the only supplies this place does have - and bring it over so he can start fashioning a makeshift sling.

"All right, bend it at the elbow and hold it close, unless you think there's a better position for you."

"Nah, that'll do." In unconscious, irresistible reaction to Steve trying to be gentle with him, Yunlan is sprawling even more casually, but he does tuck his injured arm in against his body with care.

Hey, it's easier to work with a relaxed patient, after all. Steve gets to work, carefully and expertly wrapping the arm and securing it to Yunlan's side as best he can with the tools he's got. "Here, I'm gonna give you the rest of the gauze, just in case. But you can call me anytime if you need me to redo it, or clean this up again."

Well. Anytime, provided they aren't confined or something worse for this, but... B is his Assistant. He knows B would let him help someone if they needed it. Frankly, he doesn't expect to be punished at all, but he also understands that if it seems like the Nurse might require it, he'll likely insist B do it. He won't let B risk demotion.

"Got it." He suspects Misty's going to want to try to help too, and while she's maybe not a person he fully trusts with medical supplies, he sure as hell trusts her more than he trusts his Assistant.

So it'll be fine. Probably. Assuming they're not all locked up in the shredded padded rooms for this shit.

"Thanks, Steve," he adds, with a crooked grin, reaching out to clap his good hand over the other man's shoulder in a friendly gesture before he takes the gauze. "Seriously: I appreciate this a lot. Need reinforcements down here while the door's still barred?"

Steve ultimately has no control, but he will at least do his best to make sure no one's locked up for a while, if he can help it. Unfortunately, it's no longer a matter of being able to smash or break the doors himself, but he's still thinking about that one, for as long as they have the Sick Ward occupied.

"You got it - and you're welcome to stay. Feel free to kick as many things as you like," Steve says, with a lopsided grin. Far be it from him to stop someone from "helping out" where they'd like down here. "The more the merrier."

Plus, once they're breached, Yunlan can say he was actually down here for medical help and get out of any punishment, anyway.

"Thrilled to help, my friend," Yunlan says with a crooked smirk, looking around. "With everything I can do."

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Do you feel alive

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