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Author Topic: A Shave a Day - Well, You Know the Rest. [Lion]  (Read 347 times)

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Offline Astaire

A Shave a Day - Well, You Know the Rest. [Lion]
« on: January 13, 2018, 03:44:53 pm »
Dull.
That's what it had become, dull. A morphine-soaked haze dripping its grey scarlet remains into his consciousness when the sedatives dropped to a dangerously low level, or when he'd had too much sleep even for his wrecked body. And threading one or the other made little difference.
His waking world was filled with controls and a dull pain that threatened to drown everything else out with every dip of the anesthetics, till someone entered and changed his IVs again - and then came the sickly sweetness of oblivion, spinning in dreams high as a fucking kite.
He hated it.
But he was alive, so what right did he have to complain?
Whatever was counting out his heartbeat and marking every twitch of the tired muscle within his chest with a beep sustained its regular rhythm, testament to one stubborn son of a bitch that refused to bite a dust even two limbs short and full of tubes and hardware.

It was a miracle, someone said.
No, it's not a miracle, Galahad would've told them if there hadn't been something still stuck in his throat and allowing him to breathe, just a hard-headed old bastard and the wonders of modern medicine.
But he didn't.
It didn't matter.
It had been two weeks now, hadn't it?

Two weeks. During one of those more wakeful times, he'd gathered enough strength to tilt his head sideways and look at Loa's softly rising and falling chest, the green of life controls blinking with what was now familiarity. The pale white of a pillowcase rubbed against his less damaged cheek with a soft rustle.
And that reminded him, someone'd promised to help him shave. Ah, how pitiful it was, to ask another man for such a courtesy, and in a bed no less - but he wasn't being given a choice, not in this matter or any other at the time. All he could do was frown and glance at the blank screen of the TV with shards of quiet contemplation skimming past the surface of his thoughts.
No, now wasn't the time for that. He doubted that he could keep his eye open for long even if he decided to turn it on.
It was hard--
To breathe, to stay awake. Merely exist, counting down the myriads of seconds.
The real miracle was that he persisted without going mad.
Or did he?

Apollo, was that his name?
He wondered whether he'd already seen the man, or if it was simply a name that had slipped him by among the masses of doctors and nurses, barely seen face flitting past as his memory blurred their features, sinking deeper into the pit every day. He'd see it when he comes, and the bit of curiosity was one of the few things that helped him stay awake and wonder.
Moving was out of the question. Broken like a plastic soldier ran over by a lawnmower, it wasn't an option in the first place.
A few more weeks--
Maddening. I want to go out.
He couldn't even keep his thoughts still, the torrents always swept him one way or another. A deep exhale had him regretting it seconds later when his broken ribs reminded him of the current situation.

Till at last, the door opened.
Yes, at least he'd get rid of the annoying stubble. Why didn't Blu let him know he was getting prickly already?

Offline Lion

Re: A Shave a Day - Well, You Know the Rest. [Lion]
« Reply #1 on: January 16, 2018, 12:57:25 am »
Saturdays were the longest days. Taking the extra shifts meant that he could take another day off during the week. One that he relished since it meant he could bother Varali a great deal more and he wasn't about to let that butterfly get away. She was great with Critter, and anyone good with Critter was great with everything else in his book.

Apollo took the offer to shave a patient as something meant to be done quickly and easily. He was by no means an expert and clearly he didn't need to shave much more than once every week or so - facial hair was more of Hektor's forte, but even his older brother didn't tend to grow much in the way of it.  And keeping patients content enough to keep from having a row was just another day at DoSaM.

He made his way down to the patient in question - someone named Dorn. Doan? Moan? Dornob?  Who knew - who cared. He didn't. Apollo had the items in hand, a small towel and a warm receptacle for cleaning the blade and shaving cream. It wasn't going to be fancy - there were hardly any good barbers in DoSaM proper. But it would be functional.

"Okay I hope you're ready for your close up Mr. Dorn," he addressed not bothering with formality and took up a rolly-stool over to where Galahad was lying in bed. "Man you're fucked up. Le siiiigh. Then let me make you beautiful again, Mr. Dorn. Lie still and don't speak. Thanks."

Apollo went about applying a small puff of shaving cream to the bits of his face that were exposed and wiped his hand on the towel on his shoulder. The razor itself was standard hospital issue. A plastic two bladed one that he carefully brought along Dorn's cheek. 

 

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