[Video] [NOT locked to New Hires]

[wheyoftheadept]

[Saturday is sitting up in an infirmary cot, swaddled in bandages - including her throat.  The tablet is hovering in front of her, near her head, and her heavily bandaged hands are obscured in her lap.  She's focusing fiercely on whatever she's got there, and appears to be typing.

In a moment, the distorted voice of Alexa reads out what she's trying to say.  The speakers on the table are just good enough to hear it, though it sounds reverb-y and echoed.]

 Hey.  Just wanted to join the sickposting club.  It's really fucking boring here -

[The robotic way Alexa breaks 'fucking' into two distinct syllables briefly cracks her up]

 - and I can't talk or even use my hands that much.  Also Alexa keeps correcting my grammar.  Doctor says I am gonna heal up though, one hundred percent.  So, what did I miss?  And does anyone wanna come keep me company?

Comments

SOME TIME EARLIER (closed to Guts)

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday lay silent among the white sheets, various equipment beeping and personnel bustling. She hasn't come out of consciousness since her various emergency surgeries, but the doctors do think she'll be waking up any time now.

[garmr]

Sitting near the foot of her bed is Guts, getting a wink of rest in a chair. His injuries after the battle had been far less grave than hers, but he insisted on staying in the Infirmary at long as the doctors could feasibly let him.

From there he waited, patiently, finding little reason to leave his guarding spot except to eat and sleep whenever he was worn out enough to get drowsy.

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday sludges towards wakefulness, yanked backwards through the current by a burning itch in her throat, like a red-hot hand on her neck. Her eyes feel gummed over, and open slowly. She moves her hand to wipe them and it's too swiftly; sharp sparks of pain jolt up her arms. She gasps, and then coughs. It's not the most graceful awakening.

Sitting up goes reasonably well, once she slows to a crawl.

[garmr]

He stirs awake with the cough, seeing her slowly rise off the bed after not moving for days. Guts finds it difficult to describe the relief in chest, after she looked nearly dead for the first few days.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

[wheyoftheadept]

Like I got punch in the throat and stabbed a whole bunch is what Saturday intends to say. What comes out is a dry croak and a dusty sigh. Saturday makes a face and tries to work up some spit - her mouth is dry as a bone. All it does, somehow, is make the pain worse - like the muscles of her throat and mouth themselves are sore.

She scowls, and looks around for a water pitcher or something to write on.

action;

[heterochrocatic]

Catra had been released from the infirmary at last. Usually, the last thing she wanted was to go right back in there but... Saturday. So she arrives at Saturday's bedside and slinks into a chair.

"...Hey." She crosses her arms across her chest. Her hair is cropped short and she still has a bandage wrapped around her head.

"You look like shit."

i found new html for this im very excited

[wheyoftheadept]

I FEEL LIKE *beeeeeeeeeep*, Alexa responds, as Saturday types. She scowls as Alexa censors her, shaking the keyboard, then wincing.

HOW YOU DOING?

Niiiiice

[heterochrocatic]

"I mean aside from nearly getting my skull cracked like an egg I guess I'm okay," Catra says. A lot has happened and she's trying to work out what needs saying. Or how to say it.

"Adora and I made up I think." She pauses, then a smile creeps over her face.

"Uh, related to that I have a girlfriend I guess?" It still feels unreal. Giddy. Just thinking about it makes her feel a little like she's floating.

Re: Niiiiice

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday's face brightens, like she's just stepped into a sunbeam.

THAT IS GOOD TO HEAR. Her typing is painfully slow, and Alexa doesn't read until she's finished. Typetypetype. ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU GET BACK?

She hasn't spoken with Catra for a while, not since this murder shit started and her life got given over to patrols and guard duty.

[greyerrant]

It would be my honor to stop by, if you would like to see me.

[ Lokens eyes are a little squinted, as though worried about her.]

[wheyoftheadept]

[Typitytype type type.]

SURE THING MAN I JUST ASKED FOR PEOPLE TO DROP BY IT IS BORING AS *beep* IN HERE.

[greyerrant]

[ Loken, in his ragged, barely fitting overalls arrives shortly thereafter, looking down at young lady, grey eyes not revealing much, his expression as usual stoic and, well, covered in scars. ]

I'm glad you are alive. [ He ventures. ]

[wheyoftheadept]

[Saturday looks up, and up some more, once again nonplussed by the incredible bulk of the Space Marine. Her fingers move slowly over the keyboard; she's keeping them on the board itself, making her movements as small as possible. Alexa doesn't read until she's finished typing - and when she does, she does so in a weirdly robotic voice.]

ME TOO CHUMMER.

[Type, type. Slow and careful.]

SO HOW ARE THINGS GOING?

[She can also see that, she's not alone here, but it's a request for detail as much as confirmation.]

text;

[smallmediumwelldone]

[Beatrice frowns at the broadcast. The girl was nice enough – of course she's half-dead now. There's no satisfaction in being right about how quickly life will always stamp out her sort, just weary expectation. It couldn't hurt to send a message, though. Text will suffice, it's not as if she cares or anything.

A minute later the terse message comes beeping through on Saturday's comm.]

THE BEST OF LUCK WITH YOUR RECOVERY. PERHAPS GRAMMAR LESSONS WILL DO YOU WELL. IT'S GOOD MOTIVATION TO LEARN TO NOT CATCH BLOWS WITH YOURSELF.

Re: text;

[wheyoftheadept]

[The response is quick, also in text.]

thanks and in my defense my parrying was flawless. i got charged and the lady is faster then me which is like cheating basically and also hits like a mack truck

Re: text;

[smallmediumwelldone]

IF ENEMIES WERE CONSISTENTLY SLOWER AND STUPIDER, THEY WOULDN'T BE ENEMIES. BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME USING THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP.

Re: text;

[wheyoftheadept]

i mean i'd be dead if my buddies hadn't had my back so its working out pretty good

this bitch has killed everyone whos encountered her without a crew

[Text] - Probably later

[kingofneworleans]

[It's easier to seem chipper when you're texting rather than using video. But Remy hasn't really been sleeping much while waiting to make sure Rogue's going to be okay. So, text. Which is probably easier on Saturday, too.]

If you want, I can come by later with a deck of cards and at least keep you occupied for a bit. Or do a library run. I'd offer to teach you some simple signs, but if your hands aren't up for much, might be best to leave off on that for a bit.

Re: [Text] - Probably later

[wheyoftheadept]

[The response comes fairly quickly, also text.]

books would be good. something with aliens and stuff please. hands hurt but can hold cards.

[Text]

[kingofneworleans]

Aliens and stuff I can do. Just look for the cheesiest scifi covers I can find.

I'll shuffle. You can cut.

Re: [Text]

[wheyoftheadept]

roger dodger.

[walkingballpit]

We could compile a list of all the sickposting response tropes?

I don’t know if that’s entertaining but these tablets don’t have Flappy Bird.

text, no video

[wheyoftheadept]

i dont know how these things can have hovering but not a decent game library

[walkingballpit]

Weird priorities from a company that obviously doesn’t believe in quality of life and mental health.

[wheyoftheadept]

wonder if its just tech they fished outta the Stuff and they dont really know how to use like doc Em was complaining about before she got reversenapped