A toast to that invincible bunch, the dinosaurs surviving the crunch [OPEN]

[primogen_vampirate]

WHO Mina and OPEN
WHAT Dealing with massive amounts of owwie
WHERE The pharmacy/clinic
WHEN Evening, Day 13
NOTES Multiple threads and threadjacking welcome and encouraged
WARNINGS Blood and medical stuff, most likely

Mina rarely indulged in sloth. Despite all appearances, it was her least favorite of the Seven Deadly. But after the whole disaster with the box, she gave herself an entire day and night just to stay in bed. She didn't rest. Not much. For the most part, she lay there stewing in her own juices. But at least her body had a chance to recover.

Slightly.

The problem with a limited blood supply was that she had to ration how much blood she used to heal her wounds. And so it was practicality, not the Masquerade, that left her to wake up still lacerated and bruised the next night.

Feeling sulky and bitter, she dragged herself out of bed. She didn't bother pulling on her suit, as she had absolutely no intention of speaking with anyone. Instead, she pulled on an oversized, button-down shirt she'd found in the closet of the master bedroom. Slipping into a pair of boots, she made her way out the door, crossing the sleepy, little village. She didn't particularly care about the wolves. At this point, she was just as likely to eat them as ignore them. But none gave her much bother as she made her way into the clinic.

It was beneath her dignity. Far beneath her dignity. But once inside, she peeled off her shirt. Dressed only in her unmentionables and her boots, she sat down on a cot that she had set up against the far wall, taking out a suture set. Gritting her teeth, she started to stitch up the slashes along her arm.

Comments

[primogen_vampirate]

"I suppose that's true," she conceded. "Which, of course, leads me to my next question: What the hell are you doing walking around at this hour of the night?"

Mina knew better than to judge on appearances. Especially in this place, filled with strange and wonderful creatures. But from the looks of this boy, he seemed very...breakable.

[porcelainpride]

Kurt draws himself up to his full height -- which, while decent for a boy of his age, is still not quite in proportion to his weight, because he's a slim and lightweight teenage boy -- and unzips his sweatshirt. "Delivering muffins. Care for one?"

Yes, he's out among wolves wearing a red hood and delivering baked goods. He revels in the irony.

[primogen_vampirate]

It was so absurd and so completely unexpected that Mina let out a laugh. A real, genuine laugh. "I appreciate the thought," she told him. "But I probably shouldn't be handling anything that makes crumbs right now."

She beckoned him over with two fingers, nonetheless. Something about him in intrigued her. "What's your name?"

[porcelainpride]

"Let me know if you'd like any in the future. I'm very good at making them."

He hesitates a moment, then obediently walks over, folding his hands in front of himself like he's aware he's on display. "Kurt Hummel."

[primogen_vampirate]

"A pleasure to meet you, Mister Hummel," she said, crossing her legs to cover up the P-shaped burn on her thigh. "My name is Doctor Mina Barrett."

She reached out, offering him her good hand.

"Chicago, 1932. And yourself?"

[porcelainpride]

"Pleased to meet you too--" He's stepping forward and reaching out, like a gentleman, but he pauses halfway, blinking several times in surprise.

"...1932. That's...a year, right?"

[primogen_vampirate]

"Yes, dear," Mina said, pursing her lips. "After 1931 and before 1933." She often got funny reactions to her time and place. That, however, was a new one.

[porcelainpride]

"Oh." Kurt clears his throat, then shakes her hand, smiling apologetically. "Sorry. Um, Ohio, 2011."

[primogen_vampirate]

Mina gave him a firm, brisk shake. At this point, it was an old chestnut, meeting people from the future. Almost comical, really.

Admittedly, she'd never met anyone from Ohio before.

"I'm guessing you're not much of a farmer," Mina said. His hands didn't indicate it. And that was almost all she knew about Ohio. There were farms.

[porcelainpride]

Kurt makes a face before he can stop himself -- because ewwww farming. Definitely not his thing at all. Period. There's too much manure involved.

"Not really, no. I see more cows than anyone should on the way to and from my boyfriend's house, but I've never seen one up-close."

[primogen_vampirate]

"So what, precisely, do people do in Ohio?" Mina countered, raising an eyebrow in amusement at his reaction. "I'm afraid I'm horrifically uninformed about that particular part of the country."

[porcelainpride]

"Mostly we wish we were elsewhere." Kurt pauses, then shrugs, sitting next to Mina on the cot. "At least, I do."

[primogen_vampirate]

"Mmm," Mina smiled, reaching over to grab a bandage from a table by the cot. "I know that feeling well. I was born in the middle of nowhere. Devon County, England. More sheep than people."

Probably as true today as it was back then.

She slowly started to wrap her arm up. "If you could close your eyes and wish to be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?"

[porcelainpride]

He's quiet for a long moment, watching her wrap up her arm, then -- "Right now? Back in Cowtown, Ohio. Back home."

[primogen_vampirate]

She smirked. "Perspective is a wonderful thing, isn't it?"

Using her teeth, she started to tie off one of the bandages. "Who are the muffins for?" she asked, her mouth full.

[porcelainpride]

"Mmm, if that's all we're supposed to learn from this, I have a few complaints." Kurt absently swings his legs to and fro, then reaches out, stopping himself barely. "May I help?

"Oh, they're selfish muffins. I'm bribing people into being more likely to want to protect me from monsters."

[primogen_vampirate]

Mina raised her greenish-blue eyes, examining Kurt again. "Practical," she said. "Very, very practical."

With a shrug, she extended her arm. "Pull that end around," she said, pointing with one of her bejeweled fingers. "Tie it to the loose part. Tight. Don't worry about hurting me. I'm a big girl, I can take it."

[porcelainpride]

He nods, slightly, scooting a little closer and taking a firm grip on the ends of the bandage. "Everyone's been very nice thus far, but...it never hurts to make closer alliances."

Then Kurt frowns, tying the loose ends together and pulling hard. "That makes me sound awful, doesn't it?"

[primogen_vampirate]

"Not at all," Mina said. "As I said, very, very practical. I admire that in young people." She judged him to be young. A teenager, she supposed. Of course, back when she was mortal, she'd already been married by his age. Times changed, however.

And she hadn't always been so practical.

[porcelainpride]

"Practical, but not particularly optimistic." Kurt tugs once more at the bandage, then glances up at Mina for approval.

[primogen_vampirate]

She gave him a nod of approval, flexing her fingers to test out the strength of the hold. Halfway decent. The boy had a surgeon's hands, certainly.

"Optimism is a coping mechanism," she said, pulling her button-down closed around her chest. "It works for some people, doesn't work for others. Whatever you've got seems to be working for you, darling. After all, you aren't a pathetic, whimpering mess on the floor now, are you?"

[porcelainpride]

Kurt looks pleased with himself, folding his hands in his lap once more. "Not today I'm not."

[primogen_vampirate]

"Worth celebrating," Mina said, doing up her first few buttons. "Then again, I'll celebrate practically anything. A new hat? Worthy of a party! A comfortable pair of shoes? Drinks are on me!"

How she did miss shopping.

She examined his muffins thoughtfully for a moment. "Yes, I should think establishing yourself as the village cook will make you extremely valuable. It's one of the basics every society requires in order to function."

[porcelainpride]

"Shoes are always a cause for celebration, my dear." This is punctuated with a fond look at his knee-high Doc Martens.

"I'll do my best to rejuvenate the stereotypical views of a cook."

[primogen_vampirate]

"Well, happy, well-fed hostages are better than cranky, hungry ones." She smiled fondly. "I remember during my days in the army, we had the best cook in the entire countryside. We used to trade him to other units for favors. We got an impressive haul of loot because people were so desperate to eat something that didn't taste like chalk."

She shook her head. "But that was many years ago. Especially for someone like you. From the future."