bakerstreet | minor injury meme.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When they came back, Cole had decided to avoid the healers who were inevitably stationed at the gate waiting for them. They were busy enough, looking after The Iron Bull and Dorian, both of whom were badly injured.

Cole knew he was damaged, but it usually faded away after helping a few people. And if he was a bit different now, he was sure people healed the same. That in mind, he made his way to the bar where the Chargers stayed and drank, because The Iron Bull had wanted someone to go and tell Krem that he was fine. It made The Iron Bull worry less when he said he would do it.

So regardless of the large cut on his bicep and smaller defensive wounds across his lower arms, Cole slipped into the bar and over to Krem. "The Iron Bull is back, but the healers want to keep him on bed rest for a while, so he couldn't come up here."

When Cole approached, it took Krem a moment to place him. Something about the young man seemed more familiar now, that floppy hat and those tattered clothes - he'd seen the man with the Inquisitor before. He'd seen him other places too, hadn't he? He couldn't completely place it but there was something he couldn't shake. Those thoughts quickly escaped him as the lieutenant rose up to his feet, hands pressed against the wooden table the Chargers were gathered around.

Cole's words had drawn everyone's attention - thought Krem's actions turned their heads. He stared towards Cole, unable to mask the concern that rose up in his eyes. Bull was never the type to stay down - if the Healers insisted he rest and the man was actually obeying, that's when Krem would get worried. He swallowed, eyes scanning Cole's form, looking at the tatters in the young man's clothes, the cuts he could see on the skin beneath.

"What happened to him?" Krem insisted, voice coming almost as a sharp bark, like he'd address another one of the Chargers. He straightened out, shaking his head, trying to reel himself - and his concern in. This boy - Cody? No - Cole - was injured too. He'd no doubt been through enough. He'd the courtesy to come to the tavern, to tell the Chargers their leader had returned.

Krem's shoulders relaxed a little. "I'm guessing the healers have their hands full, keeping him in once place," he wet his lips, letting the corners turn up in a bit of a forced smile. He was still worried - and there wasn't going to be any hiding that from Cole. "You're hurt too..." he gestured for Cole to come closer, turning his attention to Stitches and motioning for the Chargers' own medic to fetch his supplies.

"Thank you, for coming here. telling us what's going on..." he wet his lips, "But let us take a look at those wounds for you - and then maybe you could take me to where they're keeping Bull."

Cole rocked on his feet, hands playing with his own fingers as he tried to explain what had happened. "He was hit hard. Dorian on the ground, blood from his mouth, eyes closed, face slack, red everywhere, demons pressing, the blow coming down, unconscious, unmoving, get between, hot claws, stinking breath, screaming heat-"

He reached to trace a line across his own body, indicating where The Iron Bull had been struck. "Deep, heated, the healers worry. The Iron Bull doesn't, but he stays, because the Inquisitor would want him to. For himself and so that Dorian isn't alone when he wakes."

He looks at his injuries. He waits a moment, expecting them to start closing up now that he's helped. "Yes. I have injuries. They bleed. It stops sometimes. Then it starts again. It didn't do that before."

He knew Bull could take care of himself - and if he was resting, defering to the healers and letting them do what they needed to, he had little choice but to relent. Rushing to the man's side wasn't going to help anything. Neither was punching him for daring to get hurt like that. Krem managed to let his shoulders relax, giving a nod and sighing through his nose before he kicked his stool out a bit, moving away from the table. He gestured for Grim and Skinner to clear a path, kicking that stool as he moved closer to where Cole was standing. He stopped in front of him, gesturing to the stool.

"Sit," he instructed, mouth turning to a tighter grimace at the sight of the blood drying on Cole's tattered clothes, those cuts beneath more visible now. Stitches returned to the table, setting down his supplies and pulling out a few rolls of gauze, a clay jar containing one of his poultices, along with some clear alcohol in a bottle, pushing them towards Krem. Krem glanced over and nodded to Stitches in thanks, ripping a piece of that gauze and opening up that alcohol.

"Sometimes, cuts and scrapes need help to heal," he explained, his tone a little softer. He balled up that gauze tightly and poured the liquid onto it, letting it soak in to the material. "Take off your shirt - we'll take a look, get those cuts cleaned."

Cole didn't shrink back at the stool kicking, but it didn't seem to really mean anything to him, not until he was given the direct instruction to sit. He did was he was told, watching the supplies come over and get set out. He was very familiar with them all; he spent too much time down with the surgeons to not know how wounds were treated in mortals.

"I thought you were meant to wear shirts in public. Unless you're The Iron Bull." Everyone else did. But Krem said take it off, so he started taking it off, having to remove to hat to do so.

"Normally you are," Krem said with a nod, glad that Cole was following instructions. Shirt off, sit on the stool, Cole's hat upon the table, "But when you're injured like this, it gets in the way. You can put it back on after."

Besides - no one was looking. Just the Chargers. They'd all seen one and other in at least some state of undress before. Cole struck him as timid though. It was best to make sure he fully understood everything that was going on. Were he one of the Chargers, they would've just stripped him down, given him a few shots and then proceeded to start patching him up. He wasn't a Charger though - Krem knew he needed to approach this differently.

Krem set down the bottle of alcohol and sat down on the edge of the table, holding up the wet gauze to show Cole. "Now, this is going to sting. A lot," he said with a nod, "But it's meant to clean these wounds up, stop them from getting infected, all right?"

It was one of those juxtapositions. Cole came across as timid, when really, his body meant very little to him. But he worked hard at being a person, and people wore clothes and didn't show their bodies.

"I don't mind pain." He held out his arms, watching Krem. "He thinks it's a good exchange. His eye for the best second in command he could ask for."

Because Cole could only manage a few minutes before reminding everyone of how different he was.

Those words gave Krem pause, causing him to fall silent for more than a minute. Cole was very different and it was in this moment that Krem was reminded just how different. A memory started to come back to him, being told by the Inquisitor once about how Cole could be - speaking in what seemed like riddles but in actuality, they were bits and pieces of one's mind. Thoughts, echoes, stories embedded in the walls. A good exchange, Cole'd voice repeated in his ears, His eye for the best second in command--. Krem swallowed, feeling his cheeks redden a little at them.

He cleared his throat and gestured towards the Chargers. "Chargers, head off for a bit. Freshen your drinks, mingle elsewhere," he said with a shake of his head, "I'll clean up the lad here. You all socialise, enjoy yourselves." It was a bit of an odd request but not one of the Bull's Chargers questioned it, all rising up and leaving Krem and Cole by themselves in the corner of the tavern normally reserved for Bull's men.

Krem moved closer to Cole, clearing his throat again as he looked down to the wounds on Cole's arms. He glanced up to meet his eyes, or what he could see of Cole's eyes under his mop of hair - quickly looking down again, trying to hide that redness still colouring his cheeks. "Does he... Does he really think that?" he asked, feeling his chest warm a little at the idea, pride welling up in his heart.

"I mean, you wouldn't have said it if he didn't..." He murmured, half to himself as he began to dab lightly at the deep cuts on Cole's shoulder and upper arm, He moved quickly, hoping it wouldn't sting too much as he continued to speak.

"You don't make that sort of thing up, do you?"

Cole spent a moment hoping he hadn't made something hurt. He thought the words would make things better, help undo the small knot in Krem's chest. When Krem told the other Chargers to go away, he was just a little more confused, because there were several reasons people wanted to be alone and he wasn't sure which fit in this time.

When Krem looked up, Cole was still watching him. He didn't hiss with pain as his wounds were cleaned, though his body gave the normal little twitches that spoke of pain.

"Yes, he thinks that. It was a good deal to him. He has no regrets, except maybe that he didn't make their deaths a bit more... hm. He thinks he should've made a bigger statement with them." He swung his legs, heels drumming on the stool legs.

"Why would I make things up? Varric makes things up, he makes stories that didn't happen, but could've."

Krem noted the way Cole's body would twitch and tense a bit as he dabbed the wounds but he noted how his voice didn't seem to waver. Either he really couldn't feel the injuries or Krem himself was doing a good enough job with cleaning them. Either way, he kept it up, giving a bit of a shrug.

"It's something people ask sometimes..." he didn't really know how else to put up, shrugging a little awkwardly before offering Cole a somewhat sheepish smile. If he wasn't tending to Cole's wounds now, he'd probably reach around and rub the back of his neck. There was still a bit of colour to his ears and his cheeks, but the smile was there, looking down to try and keep focused on the task at hand.

"I'm glad he thinks that... Can you do it with anyone? Read their minds like that?"

"Flickering, pleased, embarrassed, acceptance like a soothing oil, letting the knot slip undone... I'm glad it helped." He looked up at Krem and smiled, just a small smile, but an honest one.

"I read hurts, harms, knots of pain and troubles. I see what needs helping and I help it. A flask of water, a blanket, the scent of Mother's turnip stew, a knife..." He nodded after a moment. "Yes. I can read anyone's hurts. I learn a lot of things being near people and then I can make it better. Stop it hurting as much."

The soft, longing tone at the idea of helping people was a little at odds with the large knives across his back.

Krem couldn't help but smile back, breathing out through his nose. He applied a little more alcohol to the gauze and resumed cleaning Cole's wounds, letting the fabric linger against the cuts a little longer. Considering the boy didn't even feel the pain from it, he did vaguely wonder if this was even helping at all - but he'd just do what came natural. Chargers patched each other up. This didn't have to be any different.

"Must be nice," he said with a bit of a shrug, bringing that gauze up to wipe a little blood away from Cole's chin. There was no cut there, it was hard to tell who's blood it might have been. "Being able to see what people need, to know exactly how to help them," being able to help so immediately, he wondered what that would be like. It seemed a nice fantasy but at the same time, like the blades Cole kept, a talent like that needed to be double-edged. There had to be a downside.

"Is there anyone you can't help?" He was just trying to make conversation now, to know a little more about how the young man before him functioned. It was so odd that he could remember seeing the boy many times before but then a second later, doubted that memory. He couldn't be imagining it, could he? Maybe he'd ask Bull a bit later.

For now, he set that wet gauze down and got a clean strip, wrapping it around one of the larger wounds on Cole's upper arm.

Cole did feel it, but there was no response to the pain, just the awareness and knowing he had to stay still, let the wounds be cleaned. It was a good hurt, like the moment that a needle slid into a knot of thread and teased it apart.

"I like helping people. It's who I am." Not what, but who. He was learning that those were different for people and the choice of words mattered. After the gauze brushed his chin he reached up to it, feeling for an injury for a moment before lowering his hand again. Someone else's blood then. Usually it got washed off in the rain, or wading through streams and rivers.

"Yes. Sometimes, people's hurts go too deep and knot too tight. Sometimes, they don't want to be helped, they want to hurt and nurse it. I can't help those people. I can't help the Red Templars, the rage and fire consumes what they were, who they were, until there's nothing but lyrium left. I can't help Solas. He won't let me. He shuts me out. Sometimes, I can only make it fade a little, like elfroot leaves over the surface."

He looked at Krem's hands, deftly wrapping the cut up. He'd seen it done so many times, but he'd never needed it himself before. "I can't make your body be right. But it's not a bad hurt anymore. Just... an ache. The armour helps. The Chargers help. That's good."

Krem found himself pausing at those words, looking down at Cole's hand as he wet his lips for a moment. It was strange to hear those words, a reflection of his inner thoughts coming from someone else, voiced by another. He wasn't fully certain he even knew how to address it, how to interpret it. What could he really say to it?

There was a lot he could say. But he'd start it off by looking Cole in the eye - mouth curled into a thin smile as he rolled his shoulders a bit. "My body's never going to be right," he said, though there was no anger though, no frustration. "It took me a long time to get used to that... But it's who I am," he used the same wording as Cole, letting his smile broaden a bit. "I've got a good set of armour," and a well-placed sock, though he left that part out, "I've got the Chargers and I've got Bull." Bull, who made the most difference. Krem knew he didn't need to say anything more on that. Whatever was going through his head, Cole no doubt could already see.

But none of this was anything he wanted to dwell on. He was different - but Cole was too. Didn't change anything. Krem was still Krem and Cole was Cole.

He finished wrapping up the boy's injuries, patting him on the arm. The things Cole mentioned were easy enough to brush aside for now. "Speaking of Bull," he began, lowering his hand and taking a step back, giving Cole his space, "Let's go see him. I ought to scold him for letting himself get hurt like that - Krem's Chargers doesn't quite have the same ring to it. Not quite ready for the big lug to leave us on our own."

It wouldn't have worked if not for the fact that Krem was really at acceptance. It made Cole smile back slowly, careful and the gesture not one he was really accustomed to making. But he was learning and he found the urge to let his mouth do it coming more often these days.

Being different wasn't something Cole found threatening in people. If anything, Krem was very like other people to him. He had the same emotions and thoughts and uncertainties and he liked weapons like all the people he hung around.

"You have forgotten me before. I don't think you'll ask, but it's okay. Most people forget me if I'm not in front of them. Solas says it's because of what shaped me into Cole." He poked the bandage lightly and nodded, picking up his shirt and slipping it back on.

Then the hat, most of his face vanishing from view under the wide brim and deep shadow it cast. "You mustn't scold him. He was saving Dorian. It was good."

The things that shaped Cole into Cole. That would be a story to hear someday, perhaps. The boy was interesting but getting a straight answer from him was more complicated. Krem knew already it was going to take time - and he hoped that the boy would give him that.

"All the more reason to scold him," Krem smirked, letting Cole dress himself again as they returned to the subject of Bull. "It's... How we show we're worried about one and other," he said, reaching around to scratch the back of his neck. He and Bull would often give one and other a hard time but it was their way of showing affection, of showing concern. It was so like the big oaf to risk himself for someone. That someone being Dorian was hardly surprising.

"I'm sure it was good," he didn't want to discount Cole's feelings or the boy's words, "Scolding can be good too though. At least, between Bull and I."

Cole listened attentively. Relationships were complex, he did know that, he just didn't always understand. But he could respect what he was being told. Scolding was important, because it let them say they were worried without having to say they were worried. "I think I understand."

If he didn't go and tell Bull off, Bull would think they didn't care. So Bull needed to be told off. It would make him feel better. And with that understanding, Cole perked up about the whole thing. "Then you should scold the Iron Bull."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

minor injury meme.

Hope you don't mind a random Cole- spoilers for his story?

I am always good with random Coles!

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