//CLOSED First Aid 101

Previous thread can be found below...

https://caislinhallows.rpg-board.net/roads-and-alleyways-f33/closed-now-how-did-i-end-up-here-t120.htm#570

Given his short time with associates that he would rather not speak of, he learned a thing or two about giving medical care. Since he has yet to see any type of medical officer, doctor, or even a school nurse... he knew he had to basically do all the little things on his own. As long as nothing was broken or he wasn't bleeding internally, he knew he could stabilize the person in his arms. From his few list of friends, he would call another girl to come and help him but he has not seen her in quite some time. And that shortened his list of possible helping, trustworthy hands to someone who thought it was a good idea to manipulate himself by feeding her blood to his soul. Fun times he had so far. Real fun times.

Hearing the man groan and complain in his arms, he had to admit that even though the man was rather lithe and unhealthy it was becoming a bit hard to carry the man across the castle. The blood that flowed through his veins was starting to weaken, lose potency, which meant that all of his temporary gifts were starting to wear off. As he made his way up the castle steps, he was already breathing hard and by the time he got the man into the clinic he pretty much tossed the lithe man onto the bed that was nearby.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he stretched his arms gingerly to remove the soreness from them. His left shoulder was going to hurt like hell in the morning, but that was the kind of sacrifice he was expecting from carrying a man a couple of miles to the castle. A normal human would have collapsed under the strain, but Riley managed to ease his pain by focusing on what he had to do next. His breath, now shallow and slow again, he walked over to the patient and basically got to work the best way he can.

"Alright, hope you aint shy little man."

Whipping out a switch blade, he popped it open and cut the shirt from the bottom up. Exposing the boys upper body towards him brought a bit of singe of worry and distress in his eyes. "Jesus man, you look like a skeleton." Carefully removing the shirt, if he was allowed so, he took a full glimpse of the man's body. With all the bruises and scrapes along the man's chest and neck, the build of the man scared Riley shitless. It was almost as if the man had never set foot in a McDonalds before. Malnutrition. But that was very rare in this day and age in the more richer portions of the world. Most people didn't starve when food was plentiful and easy to steal. It was when he flipped the man's arms around that he saw something that made all the little cog wheels click into gear.

"Track marks.."

The man was a user. And from the looks of it, he seems like he hasn't had any in a long period of time. Pale skin. Shortness of breath. Cold sweats. But even then, he sure as hell was no doctor. It was all he could ascertain from TV shows and what he read on the news and the like. Feeling a bit gingerly, he walked over and slapped some gloves on from an unopened box nearby. Not much he could do, but from what he knew... he could at least get the man cleaned up...


-Time jump-

Using the man's cleanest looking hand, he snapped in a I.V. and slapped on a Saline pack nearby. Taping over the I.V needle, he made sure to pup the bag slightly to get the water going. He did not know how trashed the man's veins were, but by the track marks they didn't look old and grubby. Probably just switched to injections recently. Once again, he was no doctor... but the information wasn't invalid either. During the time he was helping the man, he cleaned the man's chest and neck of all the scrapes, applied alcoholic solutions to the cuts and scrapes, and bandaged them up the best he could. The head was one major fuck up, a few swelling bruises but other than that nothing seriously injured. He taped the man's sides to help ease the pain of the bruised ribs and applied small packets of ice to it to help cut down the swelling. He wished there was more he could do, but he just did not have any idea what the man was on. Giving the man anything more than saline solution could put him into a coma. A death he just rather not have on his conscience.

Sitting in a chair nearby, he already cleaned up the area of the scrapes of paper and disposed of the gloves in the waste bin. Cleaning off his hands, the early morning sun would pour through the windows. The warmth hitting his face. But for some reason, he felt the urge of sleepiness finally hitting his eyes. The pumping adrenaline that had kept him up all night had worn off, and he knew the man wasn't going to wake up anytime soon. Slowly his eyes would stop fighting consciousness as he started to drift in and out of sleep in that swivel chair... leaning back and managing to snore lightly as he drifted into a deep slumber.

The first thing that had occurred to Bon in any significant way was that he hurt. It felt like every fiber of him ached from his bones to his hair, which in all reality the latter had no nerves, but he hurt that bad. A slight whimper escaped him as he tried to open his eyes, only to find that the morning light that filtered in around the curtains hurt them. When he finally was able to pry his eyes open, Bon-hwa found that he was in a strange place. Not that such an occurrence had never come up in his life, but having experienced this before didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Especially this time. He could remember bits and pieces of the night before; the man in the bar, being severely beaten, and the stranger that happened upon him. Only the last detail was the most fuzzy out of all of them. Bonnie hadn’t even got a good look at the other man’s face, but—

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. There was someone else in here. In the silence of the room, he could hear breathing and it wasn’t his own. Slowly, Bon-hwa turned his head and took in his surroundings. It looked like he was in some sort of medical office and there, just across the room, was a guy asleep in a chair. Though his head pounded and vision was a tad fuzzy, Bonnie tried to sit up, finding in the process that his shirt was torn and there was an I.V. in his. He couldn’t help the small frustrated sound that emanated from his throat as he moved, pulling gently on the I.V. tube attached to bag of fluid.

Given the state of his conscious mind and body, he had no idea what was initially going on around him. Were he in the woods of some forest or on the battlefield, he would have put himself into a lighter form of sleep. Instead he allowed himself into a deeper slumber, where it would take more than a few tiny foot steps from the person in the bed to awake him from his slumber. But as quiet as the room was, the man on the table had to be careful where he stepped. If he were to tap against the counter with his hand, or brush over the needle onto the floor then the man would be easily stirred awake. Nevertheless, a few groans and a shuffle of bedsheets would not stir this man from his sleep. He allowed himself to slip under, a costly mistake if they were combatants on the battlefield. One that could easily lead to his death.

The first thing that had occurred to Bon in any significant way was that he hurt. It felt like every fiber of him ached from his bones to his hair, which in all reality the latter had no nerves, but he hurt that bad. A slight whimper escaped him as he tried to open his eyes, only to find that the light hurt them. When he finally was able to pry his eyes open, Bon-hwa found that he was in a strange place. Not that such an occurrence had never come up in his life, but having experienced this before didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Especially this time. He could remember bits and pieces of the night before; the man in the bar, being severely beaten, and the stranger that happened upon him. Only the last detail was the most fuzzy out of all of them.

Bonnie hadn’t even got a good look at the other man’s face, but—Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. There was someone else in here. His head swiveled around faster than he’d intended, which made him a little dizzy, but quickly the other man came into focus and appeared to be fast asleep. This couldn’t have been one of the assailants; why the hell was someone beat the tar out of him and then bring him to a medical office? It was a noble gesture, but at the same time Bon-hwa had this horrible creeping feeling that he was going to be in some kind of trouble. Of course it didn’t help that his shirt had been torn open and removed, exposing the tell-tale signs of his addiction. He began to tremble and didn’t know if it was from the injuries, fear, or the onset of withdrawal.

Probably a combination of all of the above. Keeping his breathing and movements as quiet as possible, the young man sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The tube attached to him pulled at the I.V. a little, making him wince, but Bon would remedy that. He carefully peeled off the tape holding it in place and pulled out the needle, leaving it to swing freely as he hopped up. Keeping an eye on the sleeping man, he gathered up his backpack and made for the door, but stopped short as he was struck with a revelation. This was a medical office, likely stocked with some kind of drugs. Knowing that it wasn’t likely he’d find heroin in here didn’t stop him from carefully rummaging through some cupboards until he found a bottle of strong painkillers. Definitely wouldn’t give him the kind of high his usual vice did, but it would suffice to stave off withdrawals a little longer until he could score some smack.

With the bottle in hand and his pack slung over a skinny shoulder, Bon-hwa left quietly. Once he was out in the hall, thankfully with no one in sight, the albino could breathe a little easier and take a moment to dig out his hoodie. Now all he needed to do was find a way out of this place.

(Leaving thread unless stopped.)