AWD #045: Tit For Tat
Tit for Tat
Summary: Afton does rounds, Cole wields a sharpie, Cassie brings a skin mag.
Date: 20/02/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Cole Rescue Logs
Afton Cassie Cole 
Recovery Ward
About half the size of the Medical Center, the Recovery Ward has fewer beds to allow space for those who are going through recovery. Rather than the drab gray of most of the center, the walls in here have been done in a neutral creme color. The beds are a little thicker and the blankets are actually present. There are a few clocks and the only other decoration are a couple of flatscreens that show muted movies from the ship's library. A couple stacks of old magazines are available near the door for nurses to pass around, too.
AWD #45

Petulant patient is petulant. Day three of being back on board the Orion and Ari has yet to really leave his bed. He wasn't cooperative with physical therapy, eats only the junk food provided by his wing mates, and slapped away a nurse when they tried to convince him to shave. About the only thing he's insisted on doing is pissing on his own and he gets out of bed only long enough to use the Head and then he's right back in the recovery bed, staring at the ceiling as if his favorite Soap is on.

Rounds. Afton has those again and she is working through her patient files one by one. She can be heard past the curtains, talking with the other patients as they go and then comes the creaking slide of the curtain to his area opening after the PJ laughs at something said. Opening his folder, she clicks her pen to life and she offers him a white smile that pops because of her freshly shaven head. It gleams slightly. Those three lines that are large claw marks from the direwolf ride down the right side of her face from scalp to bottom of her cheek and just narrowly missed her eye. "Captain, good to see your are awake. Last time I came in to check you were sleeping." She moves over to the iv and machines, checking vital signs and taking notes. "And how are you feeling today?" She's dressed in her lovely green fatigues.

"Why did you shave your head?" He wonders at the ceiling, not so much as tilting his head in her direction as a how-do-you-do. Ari's stats are all strong, the infection having taken to the regular doses of antibiotics and his skin is back to a healthy pink with the help of the IV.

"Because it was the only way that they could stitch closed the claw marks. But I had already had another small section on this side…" She turns her head so he can see her left side just above her temple where there is a pink scar. "From a centurion managing to dent my helmet with its shot." She smiles. "If they shaved the other side, well they came to the conclusion it would be easier to shave all after we pulled the CAG and Shake off the ground of Piraeus where they crashed, had some wolves come and greet us for our efforts." She explains and smiles still, then moving to his bedside and activating the bed so that it draws him upright. "Okay, just going to check reactions and pulse." Manually of course. She turns her wrist over and presses two fingers of her other hand to his neck.

Hazel eyes slant sidelong at Afton as she approaches the bed, taking in the scars she shows with a quick flick of his gaze. "You could have rocked a mohawk." Ari's lips quirk up in a sneer in silent protest as she mechanically raises the bed. He even goes so far as to jerk away from her touch when she goes to check his pulse, but it's not as if he can run far.

"Maybe, I could just grow one in now," Afton admits and as he pulls back, she lifts a brow and then doesn't pursue but watches him a moment. "Sir, I need to finish my reports on your well being. If you would allow me to do so?" She holds herself, setting her clipboard to her thigh slightly and giving him a patient, bland look for the moment. Problem patient makes her sigh. "You were a lot easier to deal with when you were sick."

"Tit for tat. I'll give you a tat if you give me a tit." Cole presses his palms into the mattress, pushing himself more securely into the crook of the bed, sitting taller. His chin tucks to the side, exposing the side of his neck and patiently awaits her fingers on his pulse.

"Tit for tat…" Afton stops and then just stairs down at him. "Cute, Captain." She murmurs and reaches out to place her fingers to his neck. "Thank you for the tat, but there will be no tit." She then turns her wrist over, watching the seconds tick by as she silently counts. Eyes flicker to his face before she gazes back down at her clock. "Quite the blunt charmer, or you do try so, sir."

"What can I say. I haven't had sex in over two years, I guess I'm a little over-ripe." Ari mutters a bit darkly. It's not exactly brooding, but it might on the verge. "Like when you piss your life away on a belief, only to have the gods laugh in your face for all your suffering." He crooks a leg underneath the sheet, "Sit."

Scrawling information on the sheet, Afton looks at him and slows, clicking her pen closed and then tilting her head, brows furrowing. The PJ just watches him and the order to sit gets a marked hesitation before she glances back at the slight opened curtain and looks at him. "I am humoring you…" SHe warns him and then slowly moves, shifting her hip to sit on the bed, her right knee coming up to rest along the edge of the bed and her left leg hooks over her ankle to help lock her leg into place. "What belief?"

"What every man loves to hear." But it's not as if Ari reaches to start molesting the PJ. Instead, he gropes for his swivel tray and his fingers curl around a permanent marker. "That you can try to be good enough, pure enough…worthy enough. But the truth is, there is no such thing." He uncaps the marker with his teeth and reaches out towards her chrome dome.

Listening to him, Afton's eyes follow his hand instead and when he picks up that marker, she lifts a brow and then glances up to his face. She sets the clipboard to her leg and her hand lifts to grasp at his wrist to keep him from going in for her head. Its not a hard grasp but she does try to still him. "For what? And by who's standard are you supposed to be pure enough?" She murmurs and lets out a breath, watching him as she says, "Captain."

"Girl's pencil in their eyebrows, why can't I draw in your mohawk." Ari frowns rather pointedly at the hand that stays his from drawing on her scalp with permanent marker. Afton is currently sitting on the edge of his bed, a clipboard in her lap, looking as if Cole waylaid her on her rounds. "And stop calling me Captain."

"Because then I have to explain that I let some beanstalk of a viper jock man handle me." Nope, the marker is not getting any closer to her shaved head. Afton narrows her green eyes upon him and hmms thoughtfully. "What am I supposed to call you, sir?" She asks him, amused but still a look of worry hidden beneath the rest. "Do you care to elaborate on your earlier words?"

Cole has a visitor in the form of one Cassie, the pilot holding a few magazines in hand as she pushes past a errant tray, the wheeled item hipbumped out of the way as she does. "Hey, Janitor. What's up?" The periodicals are held out, held rolled up so the covers can't be seen, her way of trying to hide the covers. "I couldn't find any skin mags but thought you might like to read up on sports and stuff." Afton's given a nod and a smile. "Hello."

Finally Cole withdraws his hand, tossing the marker back on the swivel tray without the benefit of its cap. The cap is lost somewhere in the sheets now, having fallen out of the clamp of his lips when he started wagging his mouth. He points Afton at Cassie, as if she's just provided the answer. "Call me Janitor." He reaches past the PJ to accept the magazines. "Thanks, Cass." Which also provides a convenient excuse not to expound on his previous statement with Afton. He unfurls the bundle, looking at the top cover. "The fast paced sport of…curling."

"Janitor then," Afton says, glad to avoid the sharpie to the head. The PJ smiles back at Cassie as she gathers up the clipboard and then pushes herself up to her feet again and pulls out a penlight from her pocket. "Curling can be fun, not that I have any experience.." The jumper shines the light into his eyes, rather tries to if he doesn't give her shit again. "Now tell me how is your pain on a scale of one to ten." She glances to Cassie. "Almost done here and I will let you two to talk." She smiles.

"No need to rush on my account. I was just wanting to see how Cole's doing." Stepping around to the other side, Cassie moves over to the head of the bed so she can chat with her fellow pilot while Afton works her magic. Or whatever it is she does. "How are you feeling," she asks quietly, voice lowered so she can talk to him without interrupting too much. "It's reall good to see you."

"It's a sport played with a rock and a broom." Ari reflects dryly as he further scans the cover. "Back where I come from, we call that poor." He tosses the magazines aside to a growing stack with one final up nod of thanks towards Cassie. Then there is that annoying pen light and Cole's eyes crinkle up at the corner as they wince. "Twelve." Comes the answer about pain. "Guess I should say it's good to be seen." But yet he doesn't. Not really.

"Twelve because you are being a grumpy ass, Janitor or because you actually need me to bring in some morpha. Speak carefully." Afton suggests and glances up at Cassie as she moves to the next eye and then clicks off the pen light. "I have a few more patients to see on my rounds so it would be a good idea to move on and now that Janitor doesn't have to stare at the ceiling anymore, I won't feel guilty about leaving him."

"Next time I'll get you something with naked women in it. But if the sister disapproves don't send her my way, alright?" There's an attempt to not listen when Ari answers Afton but when he mentions his level of pain she sighs, a sound that excapes her despite her trying not to let his current condition get to her. "He's tough though," she adds, trying to smile despite the heaviness in her gut, "and he'll be out of here in no time."

"If you subtract the grumpy ass, I'm at a nine. My forehead smarts. I'm told they had to sheer away the edges of the skin until it was raw so they could sew it back together again. Now it has a pulse." Cole tells Afton squarely. The unspoken 'more Morpha please' is obvious. "And I think if Iphigenia caught me looking at tits, she'd be over the moon. Pick your favorite moon." Is the aside to Cassie.

"Very well, Janitor. I will go ahead and put in a request for more morphine and one of the officers will come over and make sure it injected into your iv within the next ten." Afton just double checks his lines then and the saline as well before she glances to Cassie. Hooking her clipboard under her arm, she smiles faintly. "Everything else looks good, I am sure I will see you tomorrow." That said, she heads for the half drawn curtain and starts to close his folder, slipping a fold of paper on the outside of it that has the scrawled request for morpha.

Cassie nods her thanks to the medic before reaching behind her, up and under the back of her uniform's tunic. Out from the concealment is pulled one very well read adult magazine. "I didn't know if I could get it to you without causing issues so thought I'd hide it, just in case," she whispers, her hushed explination as to why she didn't have it added to the pile that has already given over. "Here's for hoping none of the pages stick together," she adds, the newest addition to the small collection put on top of the stack.

Ari's eyes follow Afton out of his little curtained off section, though it's with as much effort as he's put into anything since he's returned to the Orion which is to say: not much. The man hasn't been his usual enthusiastic self, to be sure. "Oh hey. Actual tits." Cole reaches out, lifting up the cover and lets the pages sift past his thumb until he gets to the centerfold. "Ameradi Fischer." He reads. "What do you know, she likes poetry." He releases the pages, and his hand folds over his stomach. "Thanks Shoes. How the frak did you get re-callsigned 'Shoes'."

Cole is given a thumb's up after she sits, a wheeled stool used instead of on the bed itself since Cassie's very afraid of bumping against him. "Sure she does. I bet she also likes puppies and rainbows and making love in a grassy field," she adds with a shake of her head. Upon being asked about her new callsign Cassie blushes and she looks away. "Ygraine suggested it based on the bad come on line 'nice shoes, wanna frak'." She is not including the part about the TACCO in her answer. "It stuck."

"I imagine you do have some pretty nice shoes." But at least he's not asking her to frak. "And when Pie said that he had a new one, thanks to me?" At least Janitor is showing signs of wanting to get back up to date on things. It's not much, but it could be perceived as /something/.

Cassie snorts, an aborted bout of laughter. "I'm rather proud of them," she says while lifting a foot, showing off one recently polished military-issued boot. "And yeah. The Major's callsign is Buzzkill now. Not sure what that has to do with you but there you have it." A box of tissues is found and one's yanked free and used to wipe off her hands as if now afraid of whatever might be on the titty mag.

Cole waves a hand at Cassie. "Hey hey HEY. Leave those tissues. I may be needing them later. And tell the nurse to bring me some lotion, too. Chapped skin from exposure." Or something to that effect. But most likely, Janitor is cracking some form of a joke. "Alright, get your ass out of here. I gotta piss, and I don't want you staring at my ass from the open back slit of this crappy hospital gown."

"Yeah, well just spare me the details when it comes time for remoisterizing, Janitor. I really do not want to know." The seat Cassie just occupied is rised from and Cole's arm's touched, a fleeting sign of friendly affection. "Yeah. I'll just wait to ogle your ass in the head as soon as they let you the frak out of here. Take care, Cole." A tight smile's given when she turns away, the patient allowed his privacy once more.

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