mayfield_logs | (no subject)

Who: Milla, the Psiioniic, and the Signless
What: A cheerful trip to the post office to pick up a package! WHAT COULD GO WRONG.
Where: The Post Office, followed by the hospital
When: January 20, afternoon
Warnings: Gore. Lots and lots of blood and trauma and sudden forced amputation.

Milla was expecting something charming and quaint, like the rest of this town. She's heard, of course, that it's not as friendly as it appears, but as far as she's seen the natives haven't been a threat; she's gotten the idea that it's more the town itself, and since she's been having rather a lot of fun she assumed picking up a package was something more normal, like her home life or her job.

So when she accepts the package with a smile, leaning over to sign the dotted line, she's expecting the fee to be something more monetary. She's expecting to pay some small custom and head back out to where Psii and Signless are waiting to take a stroll through town with her and go grocery shopping. What she most certainly is not expecting is to feel sudden, blinding pain as her legs feel as if they are being violently ripped away from her body, and find herself collapsing on what's left of them in her own blood on the floor as she cries out, shocked and pained.

She looks down to her bleeding stumps, where her lovely dancer's legs abruptly end just below her knees, and then up at the Postman, adjusting the missing parts under his arm with a jaunty smile. As he disappears into the back, she screams.

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"I thaid you're going to be fucking okay." Despite the harsh words, his tone is eerily calm as he cradles her close, not caring about how the blood begins to seep into his clothes or how cold it is when he follows after Signless into the cold air. "You're going to be okay, your kidth are going to be okay, everything ith going to be okay."

He squeezes his hand around her arm, ignoring the sharp spark of pain that goes up his arm from his wrist. Leaning down, he presses his face against hers and gets to walking. Fuck his wrist.

"We'll make it. You'll be okay. I won't let anything happen to you." They need a car, he knows, but he can't just stand still.

Finding a car with the keys on a crowded street is harder than it seems. He's run up half the sidewalk, leaving bloody footprints in the light dusting of snow and nothing. He reaches the end of the street and falls flat on his face when he tries to turn too fast.
Signless tries to scramble back to his feet, palms stinging from the ice and gravel, and makes a grab for the handle of the nearest car to pull himself up-

And ends up falling again when the door swings open.

"Psii! Over here!" Right now he doesn't care if it has keys in it or not, it's unlocked. He'll push it to the damn hopsitalhive if he has to.

"But you need to tell them, while I'm in the hospital, I can't look after them-" She shivers against the cold, hugging Psii tight. "I think I'm going to pass out." She's losing way too much blood.

He's already starting to rush, hoping Milla doesn't hold it against him. His grip tightens at her words and he grits his teeth. "Don't. Keep talking. Tell me how to take care of them. Tell me what to do."

Nearly skidding to a stop besides the car- fucking ice- he scrambles inside. Not once does he let go of Milla, even if it makes getting inside means his head smacking against the roof and his spine grinding against the top of the door opening. Blood is getting everywhere. He doesn't care.

"Get it going, Eth!" The fact that his best friend apparently doesn't know how to drive- are there even keys, he can't see- doesn't concern him.