Participants:
| Scene Title | Black And White And Red All Over |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Helena (or a facsimile thereof) runs to Scotch for help. |
| Date | October 12, 2009 |
There is nothing entirely spectacular for Saint Joseph's. Its old Architecture somehow managed to withstand the bomb and other damage that has been done over the years. The front entrance is sadly blocked due to fallen debris, as well as other things done since The Bomb happened, as such everyone known to enter through the red doors in the back. Despite Damage to the front, it still manages to look like a quaint little stone church in the middle of broken homes and overgrown wild life. A last marker for those entering the Rookery. A Samaritan station for those within.
The inside holds a warm feeling, cracked window panes add to the chill one might feel here, but there are several rows of pews, with the Altar raised up in the center along the great back wall of the sanctuary, with the raised Pulpit off to the side and flanked by the baptismal font on the other. Old iconography still hangs here and there, as a chipped statue of Christ looks on from the western wall.
What was once the fellowship hall, as small as it was, has been turned into a small area filled with cots, so people can sleep, and east here if they want some food from the tiny kitchen. The church offices have been turned into a make shift nurses station, seeing to only minor injuries, where as the head Pastor's office remains just that, and a little more. Yes, this is where the current pastor also lives.
All in all it is a lot contained in a small space-but it stands here for its mission. To help and affect the lives of those still on Staten Island.
It may be that at this particular time, on a day that was surprisingly beautiful and with one of the lowest pollution counts in the city's history, the church is quiet as the afternoon becomes late afternoon, maybe even edging into evening. It may be that today is like any other, or it was when Scotch woke up this morning.
It's not.
It's like one moment there's no one, and then suddenly, she's there. A young women with smooth, dark skin, long black hair twined into the tiniest little dresd braids flaring out behind her like a banner, a momentary blur in a white track suit with accents of red. The red would be the blood coming out of her. She collapses at the end of her speedblur of movement on the floor of the aisle just a few rows into the pews, her voice desperate and fightened. "Scotch! Oh god, Scotch!" and that's when she collapses in entire, her world seeming to spin. She's lost a lot of blood.
If you ever needed something to wake you up, or break you wide open this would be one of those things. Specially seeing how someone just showed in the middle of his sanctuary while he was cleaning a few things, and is bleeding, or covered in some blood. The quickness and the silent suddeness is enough to make anyone draw a gun. However He's not packing his at the moment. "Jesus Christ." comes the words as he's looking right back to where the woman is.
No time to ask how the fuck did you get into my fucking church-instead he's moving over to where she collapsing. "What the hell?" And yes he is looking back and calling out "MARY! Get in here!" Yeah one of the nurses.
Marina is bleeding from a bullet wound. She's unconscious for a few moments, moaning as she wakes up again, and feebly tries to grab his wrist. "Scotch," she says in a terrified voice, "They did something to me!" And that's all she can say before blackness claims her again for a few moments.
"What?" He can't tell who it is. Its just the terrified voice some woman bleeding that knows him. And with that he's looking to search for a wound, find something that he can at least help with. Such as stopping the fucking bleeding till Mary can get in here. It might take her some time, as she usually doesn't come when called. "Alright whoever the fuck you are. Stay awake.." and he'll hit if he needs too, but let him find that fucking wound, so he can put the right pressure on. "Goddamnit Mary…"
She's been shot in the shoulder, resuming consciousness yet again when he moves her to get a look at her entry wound. Her dark eyes open wide from the pain and she gasps. "I'm Helena!" she babbles in a seeming nonsensical fashion. "I'm Helena! It was Doc, he made it go all black and white and red all over…"
"You're -" and then he is silent for a second before he's found that fucking wound. "Shit.." could be worse, however, and so he's moving to do what he can. He doesn't have anything for a damned bullet wound, but at the same time he's not going to send her off on her own. So he's tearing at her shirt, to make a make shift bandage. Don't freak-this is just military training kicking in-even if he wasn't a Corpsman, he does know how to do this.
"Who the hell is Doc. And you're not talking sense.." First off how should he know if this is Helena "I'm going to need proof this isn't some fucking trick." besides you know shooting someone in their shoulder.
Marina does her best to breathe. Breathe through the terror, breathe through the pain, and think. She's alive, she's not captured, the injury isn't so bad, and there must be a way to fix this. "Charlie." she manages, pushing through her haze. It's only one word, but maybe it's enough. Helena knows, because Scotch told her.
Scotch looks to Marina, when the name comes out and he's swallowing for a bit, and then focus is right back down into the wound. Yeah he'll remain quiet for now. "Where were you?" he's trying to get details of what happened. "And I am going to need you to sit up here slowly, so you don't go into shock, alright?" Can't have that going on. Soon enough the Nurse will be here to help, but until then he is going to pressurize the wound with her shirt, and keep her alert and talking. "You're lucky its just your shoulder…No one dies from shoulder wounds.." unless they bleed out.
Marina swallows. "At the carnival." She lets him sit her up, and she looks like she's going to pass out again. "The running…it made my heart beat so fast…" which means she may have lost more blood than is normal for such a wound.
"How in the hell did you get here." Don't tell him running, because well you should be a lot closer too dead at that point. And there's more pressure there, and as she looks like she is about to pass out, his hand is coming up to slap her rather roughly across her face. Sort of a wake up call. "Keep going. What happened at the carnival?" Scotch is at least relentless. "Do we have any healers, I can call for you?" Because he? He can't do that.
"Ran…and then a boat. Rested, I didn't know if I could…" Marina - no, Helena lets out a whimper at the slap. "Whadja hit me for?" she asks in a plaintive, hazy tone. "When I got here I ran some more, but I was so tired…" because she was losing so much blood, and wasn't used to the ability. "I almost couldn't stop." Her brain fights through the fog. "I can't feel it anyore…Mrs. Hadley. Or Flint, Flint Deckard…"
"Helena, you stay with me god dammit, or I am going to go where ever you're fading your ass too, and I will beat the shit out of it." For dying in his church, and making her curse in his church. "If I called Delilah, or someone else-would they know how to get Deckard or Hadley?" And there he goes, a shake of his head as in comes Mary "See to her shoulder, she's lost a lot of blood.." And he's getting up to reach for a cellphone in his pocket, though it will get some lovely blood marks. "When she is patched up enough to move- move her to my room. And then we need to clean it. Make it look like no one was here." The nurse just stares at him "Don't fucking look at me like that Mary- not right now." Yeah he's gotta find a few numbers. "Helena.. I need you to stay awake. Say something to me..favorite colours, girlhood crush.. anything like that. Keep chattering here, while Miss Mary sees to your shoulder.." And of course Mary is calling out to LaVerne a plump older woman to hurry back and grab a few things. Yay for impromtu quick healin triage in church.
"Call Dee…um." She smiles faintly at Mary and LaVerne as they tend to her, asking feebly, "Can I maybe not be on the floor?" She tries to make a grab for Scotch's shoulder, the action makes her hiss in pain. "Fuck!" And then, a blush if her skin weren't so dark. "I'm sorry, oh god, I'm so sorry, I just did it again…"
"Get her to my room.." once she is able he's going to let the nurses take over for a while. Until then though someone is going to be calling Delilah and trying to have someone grab a hold of Deckard or hadley in order to fully get a good healing on Helena- something he can't provide right now. BUt he can provide with clean dressings, food, and a bed, which is better than shit. Still Scotch looks back to her. "Don't worry, God's not going to strike you down yet.." A mutter as he he presses a few numbers. Time to call the Calvary.
The two ladies look at each other, and then at him. "Pastor," LaVerne says somewhat chidingly, "Think you can help us get her to bed?" He's a big strong manly man, after all! Helena v .2 starts to look a little vague again, but if and when he comes near, she says in a drifting voice, "If you hit me again I'm going to kick you in the chin, even if it is a really nice one."
"Shut up." Said softly, back towards Laverne, before he's looking down to Helena .2 and there's a shake of his head. "I fucking cannot believe this.." And with that he's bandying down to reach and gently grab up the woman. They've done as much as they can do. With that-he's cradling her close. A look is passed to the two other women, before Scotch is just going to carry her on back to his room, and move the guns from the bed. He'll be on itchy fucking alert till someone comes and helps her. Hopefully no one can trail her to here-that would end poorly. On many, many accounts.
There's a look back towards Laverne as he makes for the Hallway back to the offices "Clean up the mess, would ya?" They can handle that since he has a some odd pound woman in his arms.
The body she's in is taller and more athletic, but not a heavyweight. As she rests on his bed, she lets out a sigh and a slightly choked grunt of pain once her shoulder is against the bed. "Can someone get the bullet out?" she asks plaintively. Her tone is Helena, but it…doesn't suit the voice and body. It might be disconcerting. "I'm sorry," she manges between shallow breaths. "I'm sorry if I messed you up." Now that's definitely shock talk.
A look back As Scotch moves to sit down on the bed beside her "We can't. We don't have the means to close anything up once it is. Now I am going to call around-see if we cannot get you a healer, or a Doctor on the island." Said softly, before one hand is reaching to brush back hair. A kind gesture even if a bit awkward-needless to say he's been beside people as they die and are wounded before, due to his work, both in and out of the ministry. But, this here? This is something different.
"Don't you worry, I'll take care of you."
The smile she gives him, it doesn't suit her face. It's Helena's smile, and it's just not right on this woman's face. No doubt she has her own smile, and it's beautiful, but if the soul that this body housed is anywhere…it is likely dead and gone. That may be the soul Scotch needs to pray for. "Thank you." she whispers.
It's not a phrase Helena hears often.