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Post by WarFran on May 3, 2015 1:46:21 GMT -8
Even though his shoulder twinged painfully, a bright grin was still on Fran's face. He had narrowly escaped a rather violent reaping, with several Hunters simultaneously launching an attack on him. Although he had successfully performed the Reaping, the gang-attack had left a gunshot wound to his right shoulder. The silver-haired Apprentice had narrowly escaped, with Inkie jumping in to help him at the last minute. Really, she was the true reason he was still alive right now. As he leaned against the cushioned walls of the infirmary, waiting for treatment, Fran couldn't help but worry if she was fine...She'd probably be able to take care of those weak Hunters in a cinch, they had only managed to get a hit on him from pure outnumbering, but still, her safety was always on his mind.
"Mufufu~ wonder which medic will be tending to me today~~~" he chimed cheerfully to himself. He was...pretty used to getting patched up again, to be honest. Mostly by Inkie, who wasn't the gentlest of Medics... So this was nothing new or surprising to him. But his Inkie was busy today, and so he'd be getting patched up by a new face this time...
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Post by MIRG on May 3, 2015 2:27:03 GMT -8
It was Tuesday… or was it? The young man was hardly concerned with the actual time and date, given the endless stream of apprentices visiting the Medic office. Truthfully, his mind was blanking out from the extensive hours of patching up the injured. Glancing back at his desk, it was filled with unlogged paperwork and records that he needed to organise and update, especially on the newer patients. Oh, bother. The Austrian supposed that those would have to wait until after working hours. Did they even have a proper working shift? Perhaps not.
They really ought to assess and deal with this severe shortage of Medics, Grim thought as he snipped off the excess bandage off his previous patient and clipped it neatly. “There we go, don’t let that touch water for now.”
His own hands were getting a little numb, but he could definitely endure more than that! Sanitising his hands, he twirled his chair back to the station and briefly checked his supplies before noticing his next patient.
“Hi, what’s the situation here?” Grim spoke in a default cheery tone, as with every apprentice he had to treat, then gave a simple smile. It didn't matter if they were friends or enemies of his; the most important thing is to fix them up.
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Post by WarFran on May 3, 2015 6:48:54 GMT -8
Fran smiled warmly at the blonde haired medic before him. Honestly, he looked....so young. He tilted his head to the side and studied him a little, pulling out a mental Apprentice file from his head. As Apprentice Relations officer, it was his duty to know who each of his fellow apprentices were, and Fran knew exactly who this was, since this particular Apprentice was one of the rare medics around.
"Victor...no...you go by the name 'Grim' now, don't you?" His smile grew wider as he looked up curiously at his attending medic. "Mufufu~ gunshot wound to the shoulder~" he chirped melodiously, pointing at his bloodied shoulder with his left hand. He was still clad in his usual white default Apprentice attire robes, but by now, they had been stained bright Crimson from all the blood... He had, of course, made no attempt to remove them yet. "Nothing too serious, just a surface wound~ Nothing too tough for you to handle...is it? Mufufu~" he smiled kindly, the pain in his shoulder something he had grown used to over the 600 years he had been an Apprentice in HQ.
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Post by MIRG on May 4, 2015 7:18:57 GMT -8
The Austrian jolted up upon hearing his former name. “Wait, how did you-” His words stopped midway as he kept silent, staring ambiguously at the happy-go-lucky person before him. That shunned name of his had stirred something unpleasant in his gut. Grim’s suspicious gaze was quickly replaced with a default smile as he concealed the uncomfortable feeling.
“Of course not. What’s your name?”
It was a mandatory question, even if he had some vague ideas of the apprentice’s name. In fact, he was already searching amongst the archives of files. His was relatively easier to find, considering his flimsy folder from the sparse visits to this department. “Either way, we’ll have to ask you to remove your shirt, sir.” Keeping himself detached was the best bet.
Stay professional, Grim calmly reminded himself.
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Post by WarFran on May 4, 2015 8:16:52 GMT -8
Hehehe. He really doesn't like that name, does he? Thought Fran as he rested his chin on his left palm, clearly enjoying the slight distraught and discomfort that it had brought the Medic when he had said it. Cute reaction, he couldn't help but think, returning Grim's resumed smile with a warm one of his own.
"Bendigeidfran Rhys~" he chimed merrily, adding, "But people here often just go by Fran." He smiled brightly, wondering when Grim was going to realise that he was currently about to treat the Second-In-Command of the Apprentices for his wounds.
"I don't wanna~~" he said simply, shrugging his uninjured shoulder. "At least not here, in the open." He leaned in closer and whispered huskily and teasingly into Grim's ear, "I wouldn't mind taking it off if we....went somewhere more...private." He raised a brow at Grim, eagerly anticipating a response.
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Post by MIRG on May 5, 2015 7:49:57 GMT -8
Ah yes... the ANNOYING Fran… or so he have heard. The blonde rarely actively engage in socialising activities these days, given the overwhelming paperworks he had to churn out and wounds he had to patch, but he had heard some stuff. History has taught him that it wasn't wise to judge people based on in-concrete evidence. He was partially talking science here as well.
“I see huh…” Grim answered, distracted by the information before him. Pointing out the details on the man’s file, his eyes gazed briefly at the title written and before he could even process the weight of Fran’s position, he was already protesting his request.
The suggestive remarks rubbed him wrongly in so many ways, so much so that Grim could feel himself physically cringe. Still, he did a fantastic job keeping his composure and a faint smile. “Help me or so I will stick a tranquillizer into you, Fran.” His words were delivered in a perfectly calm tone, but held deadly connotations. He had first-handedly experienced the rumours and the blonde could tell that they were fairly accurate to a certain degree. There was no other way after all; given the large amount of patients and that most of the treatments were performed right on the spot. The only thing he could do for his superior was to pull out the cubicle curtains. And he did, all in due respect.
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Post by WarFran on May 6, 2015 0:14:42 GMT -8
Oh, what an excellent reaction~~ thought Fran as he watched Grim give slight outward signs of a horrible cringing at his remarks. This was exactly the sort of Apprentices he loved messing with. His grin grew wider in satisfaction as he crossed his legs elegantly, the pain in his shoulder only a mild disturbance now that he had a new toy to play with, one by the name of Grim. He watched as Grim pulled the cubicle curtains shut for him, thankful that he had obliged him the request of privacy.
"Ah, yes, this will do~~" he looked around their surroundings, making sure that the curtains were firmly shut and no one had a clear view of them. After all, his battle scars were things he'd show only a privileged few...and Grim would soon be joining the ranks of one of these privileged few... "Though if you had wanted to tranqulise me so that you could have your way with me, I'd gladly oblige as well, Grimmy~~ Mufufu~" he teased once more, unable to resist the temptation as he began to unbutton his upper robes.
His usual scarf was safely removed elsewhere, though the top of his turtle-necked robes still covered his neck and those dreadful 600-year old scars of his. With slight difficulty, he managed to unbutton his robes himself, peeling them apart. His blood-stained robes soon dropped to the floor, revealing a lean, toned, and (surprisingly) well-chistled torso, as well as ugly scars around his neck, several other fainter battle scars here and there, and tattoos around his triceps in a foreign language...then of course, there was the ugly bullet wound, planted right into his shoulder. "Anytime you're ready, Medic Grim~~ This body is all yours to work on~ Mufufu~~" he smiled charmingly at Grim, cocking his head playfully to the side.
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Post by MIRG on May 6, 2015 7:36:00 GMT -8
Crossing his arms, the blonde kept a slight distance while the man removed his articles. He would've offered to help, but the man’s taunting words kept him at an arm’s length away. Besides, the man had little trouble and didn't need his assistance, Grim mentally reasoned with himself.
Grim’s eyes strayed curiously towards the jagged lines along his neck. He always believed that every scar had their own little tales, and noticing how many marks there were, he couldn't help but wonder. Likewise for those strange tattoos. He has had a fair shares of scar origins willingly told to him as he tended to many and he has kept all those stories close to his heart. It felt like something personal, a piece of them that has lingered from the vast number of apprentices coming from all walks of life. Would this man share his? Perhaps not. And he wouldn't be asking anyway; that was the basic code of conduct.
He must have spaced out for a bit, as he realised that Fran was already looking at him expectantly with inappropriate comments that hung from his mouth. Grim’s innate response was to ignore him, but only gave a low sigh. “This is going to hurt a bit…” He warned, but gave little time for him to react. Applying pressure on the wound with a clean cloth, he waited while the bleeding fully ceased before carefully removing the bullet from his arm. It had to be somewhat quick, given that he had little idea of the circumstances of where he got into such a situation.
“So how did this happen?” He asked casually, his eyes focusing solely on the wound still. “...and stop smiling like that.” Grim added, then biting his lips. He had little reasons to be polite, mostly due to his overrun shift and tired state. It was unusual for anyone to come into this office smiling after all. Unless Fran was a masochist, which the medic was already beginning to be believe in.
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Post by WarFran on May 8, 2015 1:45:13 GMT -8
He had grown accustomed to all kinds of pains over the years, and merely gritted his teeth with a smidgen of a frown as Grim removed the bullet embedded in his shoulder. Despite looking like a kid, the medic was pretty good at this. The bullet came out fairly quickly and with little resistance. Fran resumed his usual smile as he looked at Grim with an enigmatic expression.
"Death's a lot more bearable if you face it with a smile~" He chimed merrily, bouncing a little in his seat, thoroughly pleased that the horrible foreign object had been removed from his immortal body. "Many things are matter of mindset and mentality, my dear Grimmy~~" He waited patiently for Grim to dress his wound. He was so familiar with all these medical procedures by now, considering the number of times he had gotten hurt. This was nothing to the great Fran. This was just everyday pain and tolerance, a day in the life of the great Fran.
He exhaled gently as he recalled the details of the Hunt that had taken place just hours ago. "Hunters. Spiritually-aware Human Hunters to be exact~ Meddlesome morons. But still fun to deal with, I guess~" He grinned at the thought as he cocked his head at Grim. "Have you encountered Human Hunters before, Grimmy? They're quite the tricky lot to deal with. Many of them aren't marked by Fate yet, so we can't cut their threads. Yet. The trick is to get them to cause enough ruckus and disturbance to alert Fate, and then he'll send the reap order for them~~" He winked at Grim as he continued, "It's like a game, really. Get them before they get you~~ When things like this happen, we have to dodge everything they throw at us, and get them to become as conspicuous as possible, so that they can be marked by Fate. Weaklings like them are nothing, except when they band together~~~"
Fran rested a slender hand under his chin, deep in thought, the war strategist part of him kicking into gear. "We need to come up with a more concrete solution for that~ I was surrounded and had to choose the...softest blow to take to get out of that sticky situation~ Hence this!" He gestured energetically at his right shoulder with his left hand, still smiling brightly all the way. This wasn't the first time a reaping had been intercepted by these irritants, after all. Apprentices always had to be prepared for the case that such interferences might occur during their reapings. "I got rid of 4 of them after their threads turned red~ Inkie's going after the remaining 6~ But knowing her...they're probably long dead by now. Mufufu~" He bounced around in his seat again like an enthusiastic child hearing about how their hero kicked villainous butt.
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Post by MIRG on May 8, 2015 20:52:44 GMT -8
“It’s Grim.” The boy stated flatly, slightly annoyed by the alteration of his name. It was as short as it is already, there was really no need to spice that up. Dapping strong antiseptic on the wound, he began to unroll the gauze bandage. Weighing the chances of infection, he rejected the idea of stitching.
Something inside him stirred uncomfortably as he hesitantly asked, “...Human hunters huh?” It was a grey area in this little job of his; a human before their time, hunting his kind. There was no clear right or wrong with them. It interfered with his nonchalant attitude towards his job, and he didn't like that. Glancing up at Fran, the blonde quickly evaded his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Never heard of that.” He lied.
The optimistic attitude was probably the only thing that distracted Grim from his morbid tale. Lifting Fran’s arm, the medic rested it carefully on his own shoulder as he began to roll the bandage around injury. “I tell this to everyone; please refrain from putting yourselves in danger unless necessary.” He recited this phrase umpteen times but some apprentices were still regular visitors of his workplace.
They say people change over time, but he begs to differ. And half a century is a long time.
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Post by WarFran on May 9, 2015 19:01:02 GMT -8
Fran closed his eyes as he felt the familiar stinging of the antiseptic, his lips curling ever upwards in a cheeky smile as he heard Grim disapprove of his nickname for him. He wasn't about to stop any of that name-calling anytime soon. After all, the more he liked an Apprentice, the more he'd give them his own pet names. He wasn't so sure how Grim felt about him, but the boy intrigued him greatly.
His eyes flit open as he turned to Grim in response to his apparent unawareness of the existence of Human Hunters. His brows were raised, and his mouth shaped into a perfect 'O' shape as he spoke, "Oh? You haven't~~ They're all the rage nowadays, apparently! Mufufu~" Fran chuckled gaily, gazing at Grim patiently as if he were a child that needed to be explained to by an adult. He wanted to add a comment to ask Grim which rock he had been hiding under over the past decade, but finally decided against it, concluding that he was already causing his medic sufficient grievance. A tiny bit more cheekiness wouldn't hurt, though~
"It is always necessary, Grimmy. I never throw myself in unless it is truly necessary, after all. We're at war here, kinda~" The bandage felt soothing to his shoulder. Grim really was a good Medic, even if he was less fun to tease when he took his job so seriously. "And this war will never end~~ I've been fighting for centuries, and it has shown no signs of slowing down. In fact, they're getting stronger and more organised than ever! Hehe~~" He smiled brightly at Grim. His resolve had remained as strong as it was, since 500 years ago, and it wasn't about to be weakened anytime soon.
"We'll win it, though. This war. You'll see~~" His widen cheeky grin transitioned to more of an enigmatic one, as he closed his eyes once more.
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Post by MIRG on May 9, 2015 23:43:18 GMT -8
“Tough luck. I bet it’ll still be in this stalemate given another century.” Giving a shrug, he continued, “That’s why I'm still in this job, and I don’t foresee zat changing any time soon.” Merely smiling, Grim tightened the ends of the roll and clipped it promptly. “Tell me if it’s too tight. You can dress yourself now.” Frankly, he liked that Fran was really cooperative and generally amicable to his medical procedures. It made his job less painful and definitely less noisy. The only shortcoming was the strange vibes he had, but Grim could still live with that ...for now.
Now that he was done with the treatment, the blonde twirled his chair towards his messy desk and scribbled some diagnosis notes on a stray paper before tossing it among the pile. It wasn't really useful particularly for Fran, because he was hardly treated in the office, but he supposed that he should still file up the record nevertheless.
Rolling his chair back to his superior, he promptly disposed of his blood-stained gloves and lit up a cigarette for himself. “You’re free to go now. If there’s anything strange, like an infection or anything, you can find me again.” Puffing out, he flipped through the file again, briefly scanning, “Oh, and painkillers…” The blonde paused for a bit before writing down his prescription anyway. Even though the man seemed to be okay with the pain so far, he could be putting on a front in front of his junior after all. Glancing back, Grim noticed his jar of sweets that he had for the younger apprentices that visited. He would always make sure to top them up with different sweets each week.
This time, it was gummy bears.
“Do you want a packet?” He asked with a bright grin on his face, popping the lid off the jar enthusiastically. This was a small little get back for messing with his name. “Just take one, you've been a good boy for today!” He added in a singsong, half mocking manner, still grinning mischievously when offering the jar towards Fran.
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Post by WarFran on May 10, 2015 2:33:31 GMT -8
This war will never end. Not the in the foreseeable future... How true those words were, and how true Grim's were too. Fran's warm smile brightened at this thought. "I say it won't be till another millenium or so that this war shows signs of slowing~ But however long it takes, be it one, two, or a thousand millenia, our side is the one that will emerge victorious~~" His crimson eyes opened once more as he said this, studying Grim's with intrigue. "That is...if you're still on our side at that time, of course. Mufufu~" His expression unreadable, he stared at Grim for a short while, before he finally got to his feet, testing his shoulder carefully. It still felt sore and twinged slightly, but it was patched up splendid. Just as expected of a medic... "And don't worry, about it being tight. I like it tight. Hehe~" he commented suggestively, shooting Grim a grin as he reached for his blood-stained robes. He was going to have to do something about these...
As smoke filled the partitioned room, Fran hesitated in putting on his robes, still remaining topless even as Grim approached him with the jar of gummy bears. Really? This boy was trying to mess with him? How absolutely adorable~~ Leaning in over Grim, being half a head taller than him, he suddenly reached out a hand and ruffled Grim's hair as one would a small child. "Dawww Grimmy....Doctor Grimmy~~" he chimed in his usual sing-song voice. "Being ever charming and kind to kiddies who visit his office~~ Be careful that you don't have all these kiddies swooning over you, won't you? Even I was beginning to be swayed by this generous gesture of yours. Mufufufufu~" And with that he laughed gaily, his pain and shirtless state forgotten as he deftly swiped a packet from the jar. "Don't mind if I do~~ I am quite fond of these~~ hehe~" He remarked in between hearty chuckles, giving Grim one final hair ruffle before he removed his head from his head.
"I have one last favour to ask of Doctor Grimmy, though~" Fran sang, his melodious laughter finally dying down as he reclined comfortably in his seat. "I require fresh new robes. Or a new shirt. Or sweater~" He crossed his legs elegantly, shifting his well-toned arms as he placed both hands on his propped-up knee. "As long as it's white, and it has a collar, or turtle-neck, or anything that can be buttoned up to the neck, the great Fran will accept that offering~~" He smiled sweetly at Grim after making his request. "Would you be so kind as to oblige my final request, Doctor Grimmy?"
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Post by MIRG on May 10, 2015 4:35:08 GMT -8
“Hey..!” The boy was jolted with the sudden and unexpected reaching towards his hair, instead of the jar. Smacking his hand away lightly, he was briefly concerned if it affected his hurt shoulder. Fortunately, it was the other hand. It felt like a complete foil of his little plan as he growled under his breath. “Clearly a mistake with you, you’re nothing like them...” He spoke in a dangerously soft and breathy voice at Fran, who was still relentlessly messing up his hair. His cheerful facade was cracking and he could feel the edge of his mouth twitching. How disrespectful; first the name, now his hair! This was on another level of annoyance: a personal level.
No more Mr Nice Guy.
Inhaling sharply, the medic capped the jar after his patient took his share. It was taking every ounce of his being to not snap back at Fran. The blonde bit hard on his stick when his senior botch up his hair the last time and shot up with a piercing glare. Why was he even still here?! He questioned angrily in his mind, but was shortly answered by the man himself.
“No can do. We only have hospital gowns and scrubs, Mr. Bendigeidfran Rhys.” Grim enunciated every single word professionally with more emphasis on his full name. Flashing a quick smile, he resumed an unamused expression before putting the jar back in place. What a bothersome man.
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Post by WarFran on May 10, 2015 4:55:40 GMT -8
At Grim's candidly annoyed reaction, Fran's smile could only grow wider. Oh, how fun it was to mess with people like him! He was sure that if Grim had Inkie's strength, he would've been thrown out of the infirmary in no time. How many times had Inkie thrown him out of rooms already...? Even for someone with a memory like his, it was difficult to keep track of that number. He simply smile pleasantly in response to Grim's fierce glare. It was somewhat reminiscent of Inkie's glare too, something he had grown used to over the centuries and was now completely immune to. Much to her dismay. Thus, Grim's glare left him unfazed as well.
Still, even though he was clearly unwelcome in this office, Fran still refused to leave. Perhaps it was the temptation of messing a little more with this medic--it did seem pretty fun, after all. He pouted in response to Grim's refusal of his clothes-loan. "Aww...but the great Fran wishes to exit this room in nice fabulous pure, whiteness~~" Using his left hand, he flapped his stained robes playfully at Grim. "Don't you have a pullover I can borrow, Doctor Grimmy~~? I don't wanna dirty your lovely bandaged work~ Mufufu~" He rested his left elbow on well-toned abs, lightly gripping his numerous neck scars. At worse case, he'd put his stained robes back on. At least they had a high collar--they'd hide these bothersome scars just fine. But if he could, he'd do his best to weasel out a new top from Grim. The feeling of fresh clothes on one's skin was lovely, after all!
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