estivates (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bakerstreet2014-12-20 11:55 pm
estivates) wrote in bakerstreet2014-12-20 11:55 pm
minor injury meme.
You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess.
INJURIES.
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking?
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt.
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit.
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass.
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers.
6. Other. I'm not a doctor.
HOW'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself.
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack?
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it.
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault.
WHERE'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit?
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff!
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap.
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks!
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.
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Ow--! [Krem hissed and did his best to silence his shouting that morning, bringing a hand to his mouth to quiet himself. He bit his lip and seethed a bit, forcing himself to suck in a breath through his nose, his sword having dropped and clattered to the ground. He blinked and squeezed his eyes closed more than a few times, doing his best to breathe in despite the pain in his hand.
He'd woken up early to get out here to train on the practice dummies, before the rest of the Inquisition's soldiers had a chance. He'd been working on a few new techniques, trying to train himself with a longer blade. It had been going so well until he'd misstepped - losing his balance and cutting open his palm when he'd foolishly tried to grab his sword. Whyt he grabbed that blade, he couldn't even remember. He just knew he regretted it the second he'd done it, the blade sharp enough to cut right through his gloves.
This was among the reasons he knew he should have been using a practice sword. Chargers had a habit of living far too dangerously for their own good.]
Going to be fun to explain that one.
[He squeezed his hand into a fist, trying to alleviate the pain a little as he moved to sit under a tree, closer to where one of the lanterns were still burning. The morning sun hadn't quite begun to rise yet. Great way to start the day, Cremisius. Fantastic.]
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Moving about is easy with most in their beds, and Cole has no trouble slipping from the tavern attic to the grounds below. Curiosity lures him toward sound, the aggression toward the inanimate, and he's near when steel slips through flesh and pain echoes through his head, a stone dropped into still water. Against the relative silence it's a beacon, and he follows Krem at a distance until the man sits, still, assessing. )
It didn't mean anything by it. It wasn't meant for wood and straw, it just... wanted to cut.
( He's suddenly close, closer than anyone should be without the forewarning of footfalls or the shuffle of clothes, crouched and staring only a few feet away. )
/tags at work, I'm a great employee
Krem rose up to his feet, wondering how this person had even managed to sneak up on him. There was something very unnerving about all of this.]
How long have you been there?
[It just wanted to cut"? What does that even mean?]
shh work is for secret tagging
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. My name is Cole. You're Cremisius, the Iron Bull's second. I've heard you telling stories in the tavern.
( Ah, but there had been a question--he'd almost stumbled right past it, on to explanations. Not being remembered doesn't sting as much as it once had, not when he's never needed to step in to assist Krem before. )
Not long. I heard you hurt yourself, so I came. Can I help?
( Perhaps a little too earnest, but he's already been told off for his previous methods of assisting, smothering the other words bubbling in his throat, the invasive narration that unnerves more than he wants. Stealing things, leaving others, confusing as much as he comforted. He's trying to be better about it. Cole stands, slowly, not wanting to startle more than he has already. )
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Yeah. I'm Krem. Cremisius. [He wasn't used to hearing his full name, not when Bull's nickname tended to stick in people's minds.] Iron Bull's lieutenant.
[Cole. He'd never been able to put a name to that face until now. Or rather, what he could see of that face underneath that big hat. He'd seen glimpses of this boy here and there, in corners of the tavern, speaking to the Herald, here and there about Skyhold. He vaguely remembered seeing him carrying plums once - or was it turnips? The memory was vague and fuzzy around the edges, hard to tell if it had been real or not.
Here he was now, awake at Maker knows what hour, watching him train. It didn't matter how long he'd been there. He wasn't a threat. Krem could sense that much about him.]
...A bandage might be nice. [Said with a slight shrug, clenching and releasing his fist a bit to check the wound.] It's not deep but it stings.
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( Wrap it, cover it, keep it clean. He stares at Krem, or more specifically his hand, for a moment longer, mouth moving silently as he mulls over his next action.
He disappears as quickly as he appeared in the first place, forgetting that he should explain where he's going, or that he was leaving at all. The practice grounds aren't far from the outbuilding serving as the infirmary, and if the staff notice him at all they're too busy with their charges to stop him from going through their supplies.
One more stop along the way (keep it clean, but there aren't enough the herbs, can't take their poultices, woman in the corner dying), then he's back, a bundle of sticky linen in his hands. There's something obviously smeared on most of the material, but it's almost clear and doesn't smell like anything close to medicinal. )
May I see?
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Maybe. It certainly felt real enough. Still - no point in chancing it. He took a waterskin he'd been keeping nearby and squeezed some water out into the cut, shaking away the excess. A mixture of blood and water splashed off his hand, still stinging as he did so. It was enough of a pain to make him clench his hand again, gritting his teeth a bit. Definitely going to ask Stitches about a poultice when he woke up--
But just as that thought crossed his mind, Cole had returned. Krem blinked as the young man was before him again, still not certain where he'd come from. Something about him made him want to trust him though - made him feel like he could lower his guard. Maybe that was the most unusual part, the most frightening.
Still - following that instinct, Krem offered up his cut hand to Cole.]
It's not that bad... Sure stings for just a little thing though. [He half-mumbled the words, trying to justify it as best he could. It was a fair-sized cut, stretching across most of his palm upon closer inspection. It was still bleeding, though cleaning it with the water had helped.
Speaking of clean - the mercenary looked to that bandage and whatever was smeared across it. Something about it didn't quite seem right.]
What do you have there?
[Maybe it would be best to just let Stitched handle it...]
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( It's alright if Leliana's wine isn't sweetened for one meal. Better than someone suffering in one of the tents because the ever in demand herb supply was raided.
He holds the sticky bandaging up, as if offering a better view. Sure enough, there's a slight yellow tinge to the mess smeared on it, just a shade darker than the beige of the linen. )
Your hands are important. It's... better to get sticky for a little while than have an infection.
( He speaks slowly, a little shyly. Sometimes people don't understand his decisions, and when he tries to explain them it isn't always as clear as he'd like. But it is important. Krem relies on his hands for what he does, and if he was laid up, even briefly, with more than just a small cut it would make things worse. )
It does work, though. I remember it does.
( Cole isn't even sure where he recalled learning about the remedy. Maybe the real Cole, something from his mother. Not something his father would have approved of, and nothing he'd needed to use while out with the Inquisitor, but... )
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[Krem's brow remained creased as he looked at the sticky mess that covered the gauze before it suddenly hit him. Honey. He hadn't seen it used often but it was the sort of thing that could clean a wound in a pinch. Stitches had used it a few times but the memory that surfaced in Krem's mind was one of his father. The man had cut himself shaving - nicked just beneath his chin one day, after angling the mirror so that Krem could pretend.
Being poor in the Imperium meant limited access to much of anything. His father used a bit of honey meant for breakfast on that cut, not bothering to offer up too much explanation. It was hardly a tailor's trick but it got the job done - the small wound was gone by the next day. With that memory in mind, it made Krem's shoulders relax, it brought a thin smile to his face, more willing to hold out his hand now.]
It does work... Thank you. Go ahead, wrap it up. Don't think I can quite manage it myself.
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He's far from a surgeon, and definitely not a healer, but he's watched both ply their trades in the walls of Skyhold enough times that he's confident as he wraps it around the width of Krem's hand. Careful not to wrap too tight, snug enough to let the sticky material... well, stick, but still keep out dirt or anything else that might irritate it. He's likely slopped more honey on the bandages than strictly necessary, but he'd wanted to play it safe. It was easy enough to wash off later, after all.
It's only when he gets to the end of the roll that he fumbles, struggling with the knot. It's hard enough with two pieces to tie, like with his shoes, but with only one free end he has to poke and prod until finally settling on simply tucking the end under another layer, hoping the stickiness will help it stay in place. )
Is... that alright?
( He looks back up, already pulling back to wipe his hands on his leathers, ignoring the mess it leaves behind for later. )
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Looks good. [Said with a smile, nodding towards Cole.] You've done fine work here, Cole. Maybe you ought to help Stitches out next time - teach him a little bedside manner.
[He gave a small chuckle, inspecting the gauze again, making certain he could flex his fingers.]
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( Not... that he's been listening in on the group, or anything. Although that's entirely the case, because the Chargers are a treat to eavesdrop on when they're assembled more or less in their entirety. But that doesn't alter the fact that he isn't good with wounds any more threatening than Krem's cut. No one ever taught him, and before Skyhold there was never anyone to watch and learn from. So he just shakes his head, looking uncertain. )
Stitches should probably look at it later, just to be sure.
( Cole hesitates, then ducks his head back down. He almost looks pleased, behind the massive brim of his hat. )
Thank you for letting me help.
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[Stitches would no doubt insist on looking at it, especially when he noticed the honey-soaked bandages. There would be time for that later, this would keep things clean for now, all thanks to Cole.
Krem nodded in the boy's direction, a smile on his face. He was grateful - truly so.]
Again - you've got my thanks... [he glanced over towards where his sword was laying on the ground before bringing his attention back to Krem, giving a bit of a shrug.]
Next time I'm practising, maybe you should come watch. I'll use one of the practice swords though - maybe it won't be so tempted to cut me.
[That felt a bit odd to say but at the same time, he thought it might make Cole happy. Though he looked happy enough right now.]
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( He'd just been curious, wanting to see how she kept in such good form and feel the distant satisfaction each successful set brought her. Then he'd accidentally snuck up on her once too many times, and even if Cassandra no longer assumed the worst of him he felt bad for startling her.
Cole wipes his hands on his leathers again, the honey becoming more sticky as it starts to dry. He'll need to wash it off, and Krem will want to get back to work. He bobs his head in a quick nod goodbye, then--
Then he's not there anymore, off at the other end of Skyhold to scrub his hands in the puddles by the stables. )