Not deep. A little over an inch from what I can tell, about four inches long, shallower near the bottom. More of a gash than a stab. It was a pain spell, though, and it's VERY distracting.
[But hey what do you know, someone's showing up an appropriate amount of time later (what is New York traffic anyway), bottle of a very nice vodka in hand and following the direction of "upstairs."]
[ the door to the workshop's open, and stephen's perched on a stool by a workbench strewn with books and papers, a medical kit resting at his elbow. his tunic's in a bloody pile on the floor, and he's pale and scarred and a little pinched around the eyes. his lips quirk up when he sees bucky, though, warmth and amusement flitting across his expression. ]
You really did bring vodka.
[ there's a bloody gash in his shoulder that obviously continues down his shoulderblade, but he flicks a finger and a second stool pulls itself up to the bench, two glasses appearing on the bench next to the medkit. ]
[There's that crooked smile at the way the second stool skids close, and Bucky places the bottle down by the glasses and tugs off his gloves. As intriguing a turn as their text conversation had taken, the first order of business is definitely seeing to that shoulder.]
I'm warning you, I'm not much of a field medic. But if you can instruct, I can execute.
[ he opens the medkit, spreading it out for bucky to access. scarred hands lift, then, pointing out what he'll need. ] Needle driver, for holding the needle. Forceps to manipulate the skin. Scissors, needle and thread. Everything's already sterilized, and the thread's also been enchanted to help break this spell.
[ he glances up, corners of his mouth curling up faintly. ] It's easy, just in one side, out the other, create two overhand knots against the skin, cut the thread, do it again a quarter-inch below.
You might have mentioned it. But why don't we reserve that judgement for when I'm done?
[The instructions are simple enough, though Bucky supposes it's a pretty simple thing when compared to what Strange used to do. Even so it's still stitching someone's skin back together, and that takes a certain amount of care. Funny perhaps that it should come from a former assassin, but then again he's being instructed by a former surgeon and really, the fact that things like this are now the new normal? Well, it could be worse.]
Got it. I'll try not to hurt you too much.
[His hands are steady though, as is his focus in following the directive. Stitch the wound; trust the spell. He does at least have the care of an army man who knows that a repaired seam or popped button needs to pass uniform inspection, so the stitches are neat and orderly, if not as nice as a trained surgeon could do.]
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[But hey what do you know, someone's showing up an appropriate amount of time later (
what is New York traffic anyway), bottle of a very nice vodka in hand and following the direction of "upstairs."]Anyone home?
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[ the door to the workshop's open, and stephen's perched on a stool by a workbench strewn with books and papers, a medical kit resting at his elbow. his tunic's in a bloody pile on the floor, and he's pale and scarred and a little pinched around the eyes. his lips quirk up when he sees bucky, though, warmth and amusement flitting across his expression. ]
You really did bring vodka.
[ there's a bloody gash in his shoulder that obviously continues down his shoulderblade, but he flicks a finger and a second stool pulls itself up to the bench, two glasses appearing on the bench next to the medkit. ]
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[There's that crooked smile at the way the second stool skids close, and Bucky places the bottle down by the glasses and tugs off his gloves. As intriguing a turn as their text conversation had taken, the first order of business is definitely seeing to that shoulder.]
I'm warning you, I'm not much of a field medic. But if you can instruct, I can execute.
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[ he opens the medkit, spreading it out for bucky to access. scarred hands lift, then, pointing out what he'll need. ] Needle driver, for holding the needle. Forceps to manipulate the skin. Scissors, needle and thread. Everything's already sterilized, and the thread's also been enchanted to help break this spell.
[ he glances up, corners of his mouth curling up faintly. ] It's easy, just in one side, out the other, create two overhand knots against the skin, cut the thread, do it again a quarter-inch below.
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[The instructions are simple enough, though Bucky supposes it's a pretty simple thing when compared to what Strange used to do. Even so it's still stitching someone's skin back together, and that takes a certain amount of care. Funny perhaps that it should come from a former assassin, but then again he's being instructed by a former surgeon and really, the fact that things like this are now the new normal? Well, it could be worse.]
Got it. I'll try not to hurt you too much.
[His hands are steady though, as is his focus in following the directive. Stitch the wound; trust the spell. He does at least have the care of an army man who knows that a repaired seam or popped button needs to pass uniform inspection, so the stitches are neat and orderly, if not as nice as a trained surgeon could do.]
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