[hr][center][h1][b][i][color=khaki]Fr[/color][color=tomato]ick[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr] [b]Time:[/b] Late Afternoon [b]Location:[/b] Operating Room >> Infirmary [b]Interacting With:[/b] Each other, Caesar [/center][hr] The resounding echo of the flat line on the heart monitor was the last thing that Victor wanted to hear. He was elbow deep in Vivian’s blood and had done all that he could possibly do but she had lost too much blood and fell into cardiac arrest. It had happened to him many times before, but this time felt different. This was his first in the years since the outbreak. He hadn’t realised how long it had been. All the other deaths since the outbreak had been bite, scratch or accident related. He realised it had been years since he last delved into a chest cavity. Maybe this was his fault? He thought he knew what he had been doing but perhaps he was rustier than he had anticipated? The guilt wracked the older man and he stepped back from the body and turned to switch the noise off from the monitor. Blood smeared the buttons as he pressed them and his hand lingered on the machine, his body leaning on it, an effort to try and displace the increased weight that Victor now felt on his shoulders. He was startled when he heard a gravelly voice speaking to him. He turned to look at the giant Mexican man that had been his nurse throughout the operation. Victor had actually presumed that he was mute, so to hear him speaking gave Victor pause. He nodded as the man declared him the doctor now. He didn’t question him, he simply agreed. Another nod responded to the barricade comment. There was definitely no arguing with this beast of a man so Victor complied. Victor had dealt with deceased bodies before, he was capable of stabbing a brain if he really had to. He knew the risks of not doing so and wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Another, more determined, nod showed that Victor was still listening to Mister Mexico. When he “asked” Victor if he needed a gun, Victor froze. His face tensed and his shoulders pushed back, his chest edging out as he took a deep breath. [color=khaki]“Non. I do not use guns.”[/color] His voice cracked but he even with how uncomfortable Victor felt whilst denying the “request” of this clearly bereaved man, he held his ground. He had not, and never would, use a gun if he had any other choice. He ducked down and grabbed his hunting knife from its holster on his ankle. [color=khaki]“Do what you must. I will do what I must. She will not turn, I promise.”[/color] Victor knew it had been some moments since Vivian had flat lined so he turned from Mister Mexico and gently rose the head of Vivian from the gurney. He gently slipped the blade into the base of her skull from the back. She was gone now, she would not turn and she would look presentable enough for burial once everything was said and done. Her eyes were closed and he grabbed a surgical sheet and placed it over her body, covering her now cooling body. He washed his hands off as best as he could and dried them off. Some blood remained further up his arms but his hands and wrists were clean enough to do an examination. Victor turned towards where Mexico Man was standing and walked towards him. He sidestepped him as he made his way into the infirmary where he spied his next patient that he had heard Zoie announcing to him while he had been in surgery. It was the man that had waved his gun in Victor’s face by the side of the road, Richard. Richard looked up from his bed as he heard the doors to the operating room, he didn’t get very far but he was glad to see a living body walk out and not a Deadbrain. [color=tomato]“Hey Doc, you look rough. How’s the patient?”[/color] He grinned through his pain, his hands resting gently over his aching ribs. [color=khaki]“Not well. I lost her.”[/color] His face was crestfallen and it was clear to Richard that he was in pain over this loss. Richard didn’t understand why exactly considering the fact that Victor had never met his patient previously but he wasn’t in any condition to question such things right now. Victor cleared his throat and began to look Richard over. Richard winced as he began to get poked and prodded in the ribs, neck and face. [color=tomato]“Hey, ow Doc! Mind the goods.”[/color] Victor stepped back, his hands rose upwards in an apologetic manner before he continued his assessment. Richard winced every now and then but mostly it was much more pleasant than it had been moments before. [color=khaki]“You definitely have at least two cracked ribs, maybe three. I have no idea how your internal workings are just yet, I will need to monitor you for a while and run some tests.”[/color] Grabbing some supportive gauze, Victor wrapped it around Richard’s torso to support the cracked ribs that he had found. He was gentle as he carried out his work and he carefully laid Richard back on the gurney. Richard nodded to him as he was laid back, his ribs already felt less sore. [color=tomato]“Thanks doc, I owe you one.”[/color] Richard grunted as he lay back down, he was desperate for some painkillers right about now but it wasn’t long before Victor had presented him with some medication directly from his Victor’s own pack. Four pills sat in Victor’s left hand and a bottle of water was in the other. [color=khaki]“You’re not allergic to ibuprofen?”[/color] Richard shook his head and took the pills and water from Victor, quickly swallowing them. The water felt good, he hadn’t realised how thirsty he was. Victor then set about cleaning up Richard’s face and closed up the cuts on his eyebrow and nose. It didn’t take long before he was done and Richard was resting back on the gurney much more comfortable than he had been. [color=tomato]“I feel much better, thanks.”[/color] Victor smiled down to the brash man and gave him a gentle pat on the leg before he realised he hadn’t barricaded the room shut yet. He wasn’t sure if Caesar had left yet so Victor made his way to where he had last seen the man, his hand resting on his machete in case anything should come into the room behind him. If he were gone already then Victor would get to work barricading the room as he had been bidden. Richard watched Victor walk across the room again and he absently grabbed at his shotgun that was still on his hip. He kept his hand resting on it, ready just in case shit went down. [hr][center][h1][b][i][color=olive]Lorna Dunn[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr] [b]Time:[/b] Late Afternoon [b]Location:[/b] Bust up Truck in the Newnan Streets >> Newnan Armoury [b]Interacting With:[/b] Ash, Meg, Dexter, Zoie and Snippy Snappy Suitors. [/center][hr] Lorna was grateful when Ash got her out of her sticky situation and she jumped into the back of the truck with him, her fingers ready and aiming the M4 that she was now seriously considering never returning to Ash. When the wheel blew out of the truck, Lorna fell into the side of the truck bed and grunted as she collided with the solid metal. [color=olive]“Son of a fucking bitch!”[/color] Her face was less than impressed and she looked out in the direction that she had heard the shot coming from, her hands ready on the rifle as she looked out. They definitely weren’t going anywhere in this truck anymore and riding the rim was too risky as it would make a lot of fucking noise and create a lot of commotion that would draw the Walkers back their way. Jumping out of the truck bed, Lorna looked to Ash as she made his suggestion. [color=olive]“With you there Cap. Time to tread the beaten path.”[/color] Lorna shouldered the carbine and pulled her sword out instead. [color=olive]“I’ll cut a path through for us all.”[/color] Snarling sounded nearby and Lorna walked towards a shambling corpse that was reaching out with rotten arms. Her sword swung swiftly downwards, slicing the Walkers head like a watermelon, the top most part sliding off and slipped to the ground as the body slumped in a heap on the ground. Striding forward slowly but with purpose, Lorna dispatched another Walker in much the same way as the one before and then a walker came up directly behind her latest dispatch and grabbed onto her shoulders. Its face came in close and she had to lean back, her face screwing up from the smell. [color=olive]“Holy shit, you bastards need a breath mint.”[/color] Quickly dropping her blade, it clanged on the ground as Lorna grabbed the thing by the dilapidated shirt and tried to push it off. Its grip fumbled and she manged to get her machete off her belt before it grabbed her and slammed into her again. She stumbled back a step, her machete sunk into its stomach and she could feel it shifting the insides around as she wrestled the damn stinking beast. She could feel the sickly, sticky cold blood oozing out of the ever growing cut that was the result of the machete meeting its innards. Gagging a little, Lorna grunted and risked shouldering the bugger away from herself. Her blade slipped out as it staggered backwards. The blade shot upwards and Lorna was sprayed with the entrails that escaped it. Her front, her legs and her feet were completely covered in Walker guts. She gagged some more and shuddered as she slipped her gore ridden machete back onto her belt for now. She ducked down and grabbed her katana quickly. She thrust the blade into the eye socket of the now disembowled Walker. Her blade squelched as she pulled it back out and she was sprayed with what came out on her face now. [color=olive]“Well I definitely need a fucking shower. Let’s keep moving.”[/color] She flourished her blade and prepared to kill some more biting blighters. [hr]