SCAWWY 😱 camille

[concoctive]

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Comments

WEEK 5: Monday

[scrapdraught]

[Meets this city boy in the...surgery room...yay.]

Jesus.

[Looking through the instruments like haha no thank you.]

Can you make use of any of this?

[concoctive]

[ y...yay...

he hisses softly through his teeth, grimacing and also exuding :grimace: emotions. ]

I think Dohter'd bring a glacier down on this place... [ he pokes at a few things, away from the sharp ends. ] A few things, probably, but I'm not seein' anythin' to numb the pain of goin' under a knife.

CW: mentions of self-harm

[scrapdraught]

Nothing you could use, then?

[Sure, the lack of painkillers or anaesthesia is more than alarming, but a few of these might be useful to a doctor. Tools of all kinds in here.

Camille's looking at a drawer a little ways away from him. She'd pulled it open innocuously and finds a treasure trove. Gleaming razor edges on cold, comforting steel. There's a slender scalpel, small enough to tuck into her palm. Small enough to go up her sleeve.

There's a rush of emotion from her. Urgency. Hurt, desperation, need. A yawning ache that flares to life as she eyes the metals. Her skin's been screaming at her these days.

Slowly, her fingers curl over the length of it. Push it along her wrist, snug in the cuff. Just one. Just in case. Quickly, now.]

Maybe we're looking in all the wrong places.

[concoctive]

I could... I'll probably take a few things, just in case, but some of this stuff...

[ he hopes that he won't have to conduct surgery, need the scalpels and pliers. but he looks at the other tools and hates them, each and every one, and hates the energy of this place.

but the energy doesn't hide the emotions that roil through the room off of camille, and he looks her way - watches her movements. he's not sure what she takes, but alfyn is certain that she has something.

concern bubbles, but nothing that boils over. instead, he reaches out to take her other hand, giving it a squeeze as he offers her a smile. ]

Maybe we should head outta here and check somewhere else for a bit.

[scrapdraught]

Hm?

[Oh so subtle, except she feels that sudden concern. And with it, realizes her blunder. Bad week to be pulling stunts in secret, isn't it.]

...Yeah, sure.

[But he's not saying anything. Just squeezing her hand and guiding her away. Apprehension rises. As does the shame. Humiliation, hurt again, an urge to whip out of his grip and run.

She follows though. Does her best to tamp it all down and keep her feet moving, her expression even.]

What's next, then? This place is huge.