inmyownworld (![]() ![]() @ 2009-11-14 01:50:00 |
![]() |
|||
![]() |
|
![]() |
|
![]() |
Current music: | The Streets- "Stay Positive" |
That World Out There Fucked You, You're No Less of a Person and if God Exists, He Still Loves You
Who: L Lawliet, Remus Lupin, Oz Osbourne, The Doctor (Ten), Rogue, Edward, and Connor Temple
What: Day 29, no management control, and blocked into the liquor store with yesterday's injuries and memories.
Where: The liquor store
When: Day 29 - Around 10:00 A.M.
Rating: PG for now, might rise to PG-13 if recollections get too angsty.
Status: Active, open-to-characters-listed-please-tag-som
The rigid, warm ache was what woke L up. Otherwise, he might have chosen to keep his eyes closed, embrace solitude, and return to the oblivion of sleep without dreams. That's what he was returning from, and it was not welcome. But three broken fingers couldn't be ignored, and they refused to give him peace long enough to fall asleep again. He glanced around blearily, not wanting to look down at his mangled-looking left hand, and recognized his surroundings as his usual lodging. He was back in the liquor store, and after a quick headcount, it was understood that Laura had either been an unfortunate dream or a cruel experiment. The latter was most likely, since he didn't think he'd broken his fingers by simply rolling over onto them in his sleep.
He was surrounded by unconscious individuals: five men (though one looked a fright, with dead white skin and shears for hands; could he be considered a man?) and one woman. L recognized The Doctor, of them all, and knew that the one with the frightful appearance and blood on his shears had to be Edward. The others were not familiar to him.
He crawled behind the counter, his resourcefulness taking over. He didn't feel like grieving Laura at the moment. It had been terrible to see her taken apart and stitched up, the whole time talking to him until it was over, but L possessed a resilient mind. He could temporarily forget it long enough to at least fix his hand. He knew how the bones were supposed to look, even if he was no physician, so he thought he could probably do an adequate job with them. Most likely. He crawled over behind the counter, finding a handkerchief to bite on. There wasn't much in the way of painkillers in an old liquor store. L first noticed some Tylenol, and the thought of downing it with whiskey was tempting since it would effectively take the edge off the pain, but he cringed, thinking further into the scenario. Burning holes in one's stomach was a hard way to go.
Ibuprofen with wine. That would be better. An anti-inflammatory along with something that wasn't too alcoholic or inebriating. He found a bottle, held his nose as he took several deep swallows with the Ibuprofen, and bit hard on the handkerchief as he started attempting to reset the third finger on his left hand. With any luck, he could finish this before the others woke up.