Brace Yourself


delia_icon.gif huruma3_icon.gif

Scene Title Brace Yourself
Synopsis There's never a guarantee that a dog won't bite. It's the same with Huruma.
Date October 15, 2010

Gun Hill — Clinic

There's been the average amount of patients in and out of the clinic all day, which is to say almost none at all. With the building being condemned and off limits to practically anyone, Delia has spent most of it reading her trashy novels and avoiding Lucille upstairs. Her older sister, God love her, is getting on the redhead's nerves with her bipolar mood swings and complaints about their father.

It's an easy enough problem to solve, according to Delia. Take it out on something he loves. Right now? His home renovation projects. There's ample sledgehammers available with all of the construction crews, it wouldn't be anything to just pick one up and bash through his apartment door.

But she'd never suggest it to Lucille.

Having already finished The Yearning Damsel, Delia's picked up yet another romance entitled The Unabashed Woman and at the moment, she's blushing as she reads. Blowing out a long breath through her lips, the young woman fans herself with a patient chart as her eyes pour over yet another steamy section of the book. They seem to happen every two or three pages. The couple seem to copulate like mad rabbits, it's a wonder why she isn't pregnant, considering it's set in 1890.

Huruma has been standing outside of the clinic door for a good five minutes now, staring at the hinges with a vaguely uncertain expression on her face. Well, if anyone could tell right now. Hours ago, in the wee of the morning, she met a ramblin' Irishman. The encounter didn't go as awesomely as she had briefly anticipated. Not that she foresaw him at all. There is still a red stain the entire length of front of her cream colored t-shirt, residue on the collar of her unbuttoned coat. Huruma's face, usually so flawless, seems like such a mess now; her cheeks and nose are swollen, her ebony skin bruised dark. The contusions do nothing at all to help the pain of having her nose broken. She's been able to breathe- pride has prevented her from getting any more help than that of a flexible ice-pack, since thawed and discarded. She'd been beaten up before, but not quite this. It took a while for common sense to melt a hole in that stubbornness.

That's how she ended up here, staring intently at the clinic door, her empathic whiskers perked taut and intent on the fog of unmistakable lust on the other side.

What in the world is going on in there? No noise, no second person- Huruma raps on the door, chin tucking slightly, as if she might somehow hide the shame that is a moderately broken nose.

The knock causes Delia to jump and drop the chart in a flutter of pages all over the floor. Shame, total embarrassment, and a little tinge of excitement replace those previous feelings as the young woman scrambles to pick up the chart and hide away the books. How much faith can a person have in their caregiver if they know that behind the curtain they're reading smut novels? The shame of her guilty pleasure isn't enough to warrant stopping though.

"C-come in!" She calls as she finishes putting the papers back in order and straightening up her lab area. Yes, Delia was reading among samples and specimens, no one really wants or needs to know what kind.

Huruma opens the door when she hears things start fluttering, even a second before Delia actually beckons her in. This gets her a moment's glimpse of the scrambling, though only enough as to make both eyebrows knot in the middle when she steps inside, head tilting after a moment to try and make this look less worse than it is. Nonchalance, maybe.

"Delia." A greeting, if short and- muffled by her swollen nasal passages. "…What were you doing?" Huruma feels as if she has to ask, as she was out there for a few minutes technically 'listening in'.

Glancing in the direction of the hidden books, Delia stammers and shakes her head denying anything out of the ordinary. "Nothing, nothing, I was just… uhm… catching up on some rea — patient charts. And uhm… labs. Yes! Labs." Pointing to the little specimen jars and vials full of various bodily fluids and functions, she finally looks up at Huruma with a bright smile. For about a split second. Then it wanes to an expression of jaw dropped shock.

"What happened to you?!" It's a rather loud emission from the young woman as any of her previous emotions are instantly replaced by concern of personal and clinical variety. She steps up to the taller woman and pulls a penlight from the pocket of her labcoat, flashing it across the cannibal's eyes to test her pupils before clicking it off. "Onto the cot, now missy."

Huruma follows gestures and looks with her eyes, mouth turned flat. She blinks when Delia gets louder, gaze going back, phantom ears half-pinned. The pins still observing the girl's emotions shiver when they change so abruptly- its a rare thing, that. Most often with Delia's age group, though. It always is worth a pause.

"So, labs are arousing to you?" Huruma doesn't say what happened quite yet, opting to flinch a little away from the light suddenly in her pupils, before begrudgingly listening and taking a seat on the side of the aforementioned cot.

"Arou — " Delia glances over toward the specimens and vials again before an expression of humiliation mixed with horror flashes across her features. "No! No! I was… I was reading a new romance novel, okay? Not working… reading." Now that her guilty conscience has been extinguished by the truth, she lets out a huff of air and follows along to the cot.

She pulls on a pair of blue gloves and then pulls out the little light again. Gingerly touching Huruma's chin, she guides it to an upward angle as she flashes the light over her eyes again, just to make sure. "Well your pupils are responding normally, at least you don't have a concussion…" the young woman murmurs before bending down slightly and flashing the light up the other woman's nose. "Nose broken… not too bad… How long ago?"

"Are they that good?" Huruma starts to laugh her throaty laugh, but it stops quickly when she winces and tries to hold it back. Her teeth grind together just before Delia tilts up her chin- her eyes, for a second time, contract when the light hits them- unnaturally dark pinpricks in a sea of ivory, peering down the curve of her face to Delia. "I'ave'ad concussions b'fore. This- is new. Somehow."

"This morning. Very early." Before curfew let up, from the sound of it. Her voice has dampened a little, out of mild embarrassment. "I'ad ice on it…" Though obviously it didn't help as much as she thought it would. The blood all over her shirt is not the best supporter of her self-care.

"Well… the break doesn't seem too bad, I think if we can't get it straightenned out with swabs I might need to rebreak it." Giving Huruma a rather uncertain look, the memory of their previous episode of doctor and patient sets in and the young woman winces. "Uhm… Or I can just tell you how to do it yourself."

Taking a few quick steps toward the lab counter, she glances around and finally pulls open a few drawers to pull out a few things. A package of sterile gause squares, some tape…. She glances in Huruma's direction for a little while before pursing her lips into a thin line and grabbing a small spit tray. After filling it with water, she marches back to the dark woman and begins carefully cleaning away the blood from her face.

"I probably won'bite you…" Probably. Still sketchy on that. She really only bit her father because he was the one holding her down, technically. Huruma falls silent as Delia begins to sort her way through the drawers, watching the supplies put out with a vague interest. Even if just to remember how this goes, in case it happens again. Her fidgeting while Delia cleans up is not enough to make Delia's job hard, but enough in that Huruma's distaste in sitting still for this is clear.

"Figures. I survive China only t'come back an'get this from some …dirty Irishman."

There's a pause in the swipe of the wet gauze before Delia throws it into the little pan of water. There's a distinct flash of anger from the redhead, letting her live up to the stereotype of her hair color. "Oh. You went too. Lovely." Her words are short and curt, and through the furious feelings, her touch remains gentle. At least she's not taking it out on her poor patient.

After the other woman is cleaned up, Delia sighs and examines her closely again. "Sorry… I'm just a little… He told me that I couldn't go because I couldn't dream people to death." It's a point of hurt pride for the youngest of the Ryans clan.

"I thought you knew. I didn'go up though- I- was ground control…" Huruma murmurs while Delia is close, finishing the swabbing of her face. She tries to breathe out of her mouth, though seems to have a hard time doing it. She bred herself to be efficient, and this is cramping that. "Technically, you can. But that is something-" Huruma pauses a moment, trying to find some sort of explanation that won't hurt Delia's side.

"Your pride will heal. You jus'need time t'mature your abilities. I know it seems hopeless right now, knowing what you can do, an'no'being able t'use it t'full advantage. I felt th'same. I am willing t'bet m'grandmother did as well. She does what you do." Mostly. Huruma's eyes flicker around the room, as if Etana might walk through one of the walls at any moment.

There's another pause, this time longer as Delia presses her lips into a thin line and looks away from the other woman. "I know I can," she says quietly, turning away to begin rolling up some of the gause into a tight cylinder. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell Dad?" The expression on the young woman's face matches the emotions coursing through her. A bit of guilt but not so much that it hinders the excitement of the newfound aspect of her ability.

Her mentor might not approve of what she's done, she knows this all too well. Looking down at the tight roll, she twists it a little and gently pushes it up Huruma's nostril. Once it's in far enough, she repeats the process with the other nostril.

Augh. Huruma makes a small groan when this part comes, consternation all over her face. Now she's going to sound silly while talking about something so serious. "I will." Though that promise does not disallow other people besides Ben, and herself, from acting on the information later. Huruma may keep many personal promises such as these, but the loopholes practically make them the equivalent of Swiss cheese.

For the record, she is still expecting her grandma to walk in the door. A lady that disconcerting for Huruma is powerful indeed.

When she's finished pushing the gauze in, Delia takes a step back to re-evaluate the position of the nose. "I'm going to have to move it, just a little to make sure that it's in the right place before I tape the splint on." At least she didn't say she had to rebreak it.

Stepping back to the drawers, she opens one that contains a few finger splints, she's not equipped for noses… Unfortunately. What she does have is a little ingenuity and a good pair of surgical scissors. "I'm going to have to cut up a finger splint and mold it, so it's going to be painful… Please don't eat me." She still hasn't mentioned the secret she doesn't want to tell her father.

"At the risk of you tasting like your father, I won't." It's …hard to tell if that was a joke or not. "Do what you can, I just- d'no'feel like subjecting m'self to a hospital. I knew you were here now, so…" Huruma resists the temptation to reach up and fuss with the stuff in her nose.

Luckily she isn't signed up for anything too important soon, personal or business. Though she may have to see a few people she would rather not, like this, it won't be anything that she cannot fix.

The young nurse's scissors quickly cut through the thin metal of the brace and she folds the ends and tapes them off with a heavy fabric tape. Molding the metal with her fingers, she adjusts it so that it fits snugly against the other woman's nose. Then she takes it away and places her fingers on either side of Huruma's sniffer and pushes it lightly to one side before setting the brace back firmly in place.

"I controlled someone in their sleep…" she says in a rather matter of fact sort of tone. "Not much, I moved her arm like she was a puppet or something." Taping the brace against the older woman's face, she takes a few steps back when the job is completed and nods. "All done."

For a few passing seconds, Huruma inspects Delia's deeper moods when she finally tells her what she wanted to say. It's all she can really do to also ignore the pushing and pinching going on with her face.

"Deep subconscious suggestion? Sounds like a cerebral issue… I woul'like t'hazard a guess tha'you may b'able t'plant ideas in people's heads, as well. Possibly take them. I am no'terribly familiar with th'fineries. You would need a mentor or two f'something like that." A second time, Huruma is faced with not touching her new addition, which feels bulky and cumbersome on a face that usually has been good with being- clean and feline.

"I have one, I don't need another one," Delia admits in a low tone of voice, there's a bitterness in her mood at the very suggestion. "I'll uhm… I have some work to do." She adds sullenly, wheeling toward the counter containing the specimens, microscope, stack of charts, and of course the book. "I don't think there's much more I can do than that. Come back in a few days to let me make sure it's healing straight, use an ice pack to get the swelling down and when it's gone we can figure out if it needs readjusting."

It seems that the two in Huruma's statement has turned the young woman's frame of mind to something a little darker and more afraid. "Take some ibuprofen to keep the swelling down, I'd give you something stronger, but I don't think you'll need it. Not if you were able to handle the pain for this long."

Huruma can sense the trepidation that comes sweltering over Delia, any fears she has now of familiar textures. She frowns at Delia's back when the girl resigns herself to 'work'.

"Work. Mm." Sure. That's why she was reading a minute ago. "Work as an excuse t'not talk is beginning to seem… a common theme." Huruma's words perhaps come out more brusque than is intended, but she does not give Delia much time to get in edgewise; the tall woman pushes herself to her feet and steps slowly for the door, one hand hovering passively near the new brace criss-crossing her nose. "I'll see you soon. You know how t'find me, if you need me."

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