driftfleet | voice. MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN.

Entry tags:

voice. MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN.

Who: Max (potentially featuring an injured and less-lucid Maggie) and you...!
Broadcast: Fleetwide | Voice
Action: N/A (Unless you're coming to pick up! We'll see based on threads. Or if you find him on the Starstruck after all this.)
When: Sometime now, whatevs. After this very intense encounter.

[Max has elected to put it to voice; easier to talk when one arm is currently giving blood, but not video to alarm anyone of this very scene. Maggie's lost a lot of blood, but Max is hoping to rectify that a little bit until they can get some help. Speaking of help — time to get some of that. His voice is gruff and calm, but there's an underlying urgency to his words.]

Need pick up, got someone down here on the ring who's hurt pretty bad. Her name's Maggie.

Don't know which ship she's from, but she's got a neck injury from a knife, near the back. Lost a lot of blood... Got it closed up and she's not critical. [Yet. He's pretty sure. She's drowsy as hell and she'll be weak for a while, but she should pull through.] Need a ship to pick us up, though. I can't move her like this on my own through the forest and she shouldn't go long without a real medical bay.

[A thoughtful pause.]

... I didn't do it, by the way.

[Look, he knows he's caused some shit before, but he has been so good. Seriously.

He'll do her a favor and try not to mention she did it to herself yet. He's not sure if he will or not... Honesty is more his policy on injuries. But...]

[Action | Starstruck, optionally]

[Eventually, he'll probably end up back on the Starstruck after getting her somewhere safe and clean and medically sound, sighing a big grumbly sigh and crawling off into the shuttle to sleep off his stress for the day. Y'all are monsters, making him care like a real person. Monsters. He'll have to check on her later, in secret, where she will never know. Perfect plan.

Don't mind if he has blood on him, he'll go to the bathroom to wash it off. He's gonna be a bit woozy on his feet for a few days.

Better than having his neck cut into, though.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dr. Ravi Chakrabarti, at your service. If she's lost a lot of blood, it would probably be best to get her to the surgical centre. I may need your help transporting her though.

[He's not exactly super-fit, after all.]

[A sigh. Well, if he's needed, he supposes he'll stick around.

For a short time.]

Can do that. I'll send you the coordinates; might be hard to see with the trees around, but... mm, I don't think it'd be good to move her unless you need me to.

[Ravi nods, but his expression certainly isn't the picture of confidence. He probably should have spent more time in the shuttle and less time in the kitchen. At least it's fully functional again!]

I'll do my best. The bleeding is under control?

Mm. It's been cleaned and sewn up... Best I could do at the time to keep her from bleeding too much too fast. Might have to remove them to properly make sure no infection gets in there or if there's more damage to fix, but... antibiotics, um, hopefully can do it.

[He's good with simple medical shit (emergency knife wielding notwithstanding), but his world is very free of medications. He's hoping the space meds are certainly enough to keep her from getting an infection too severe she keels over.]

M'a decent stitch.

Okay, alright. Keep up with that "not moving" plan, I'll hopefully be there soon.

[And off he goes to pack up some necessary medical supplies from the ship. Anders probably won't miss them anyway.]

[He hums in agreement.

He'll keep her stable in the meanwhile; by the time the guy locates them with the ship, Max has already spent quite a measure of time feeding her blood from his arm. Bright side to being a universal donor — he's surprised how unaffected he is by the act; it all relies on if it's taken or given willingly, he supposes.

He stops giving the blood once he finds himself feeling woozy and tired, same as when he'd fed blood to Furiosa. He wipes down the needle site and presses gauze into the crease of Maggie's elbow with a tired huff. Feel free to drop in whenever, doctor.]

[Ravi has meanwhile done his best to pilot the little shuttle as close to the coordinates as he's able to. Once he spots them, he hustles over with a makeshift stretcher made from a blanket, two poles, and some tape. After a quick nod of acknowledgement he bends down to quickly check Maggie's vitals and seems satisfied.]

Let's get her over to the shuttle. It's parked that-a-way.

[He gives a nod before moving to hoist her up — she's kind of out of it, so on the bright side, he won't get much lip from her. On the downside, he's a bit shaky on his feet. After a moment he slips his arms under her and moves to pull he upright.]

Get her other side.

[He's not about to admit he's shaky from his blood-giving stunt.]

[He sets his makeshift stretcher down and scurries over, making a valiant effort to alleviate some of the weight from Max.]

If we can get her on the stretcher, we'll hopefully jostle her around less. The shuttle's not far, I promise.

I'm sorry, I don't think I asked for your name earlier.

[You promise, you say. Max doesn't trust promises.

But he'll make an exception, because stretchers are better than hoisting deadweight over a shoulder or dragging someone through grass (count your blessings, poor Maggie). He slowly moves to lay her down looking over the stretcher with an intense scrutiny.]

... It'll do.

[Did you say something about names? AnywAY—]

Which way?

[A paragon of social grace.]

[... okaaaay. Well, there are more important things at hand, probably. Ravi points in the general direction of the shuttle and then moves to take the front end of the stretcher, figuring he's in better shape to walk backwards.]

I noticed a needle mark in her arm. Did you already give her something?

[He thinks he knows the answer, but he has to ask.]

[............ Bloody hell. Alright, fine, you win Ravi. You get words.]

I gave her blood.

M'a... ahm... universal donor.

[And he was very prepared to be one, just in case. You never know what could happen.

Case in point: today.]

[That gets a raised eyebrow, followed closely by a grin.]

Don't suppose you're looking to be a phlebotomist? I'd say we could probably use one on occasion!

No.

[So blunt, so simple, but by god I'm proud of you for trying with this guy, Ravi.]

... Not a big fan of... doctors.

Don't really want a title, anyway.

[He takes the terrain a step at a time, careful not to jostle the stretcher too much. He's not the kindest and most steady hobbling man, and it's clear one of his legs doesn't... work to full capacity, but he's doing his best.]

[Ravi is just trying not to trip over things and is visibly relieved when he looks over his shoulder to see the shuttle is getting closer!]

I'm just saying, it's kind of impressive that you managed it under these circumstances. Do you carry a well-stocked first aid kit with you all the time?

[He hums an affirmative.]

Stupid not to have all your options available if you can.

... Too much goes wrong too quickly. I learned fast in my world.

Sounds like it's a rough place.

[Trying to maneuver Maggie into the shuttle now and get everyone in, Tetris-style.]

I think it would be best if we headed to the Iskaulit. I'd have a lot more access to medical supplies and equipment there.

Mm.

[His simple response to rough place.

It sure is. He has made due with pretzeling into machinery before, so he does it with reasonable ease. It's not like it's a cage; he has to remind himself of these things so he doesn't feel the urge to go raving feral and punch a doctor in the face. Again.

... Ravi it's fine, don't worry about it, you're in great hands.]

That's fine. Can help you get her there.

[He says begrudgingly, because he's gonna run for the hills once she's in a bed proper.]

[Not so fast! Once they get Maggie settled, Ravi double-checks a few of her vital signs and gets his old-school sphygmomanometer. He frowns and starts pulling a few more things about his bag.]

She's lucky you were around, I'd hate to see what her blood pressure would have been like without your transfusion. Is it possible for you to pilot us to the Iskaulit? I'd like to get some treatments started, and it's really better not to delay them.

[Having watched people succumb to bloodloss before, he hears you there. Of course, sometimes he's relieved they're bleeding out, if it means they're not going to capture him and drag him off somewhere. Other times, he bites his cheek and stows any feeling on the matter. Furiosa nearly dying had really set him off — that's the hard thing about caring. It's impossible to help it.]

... I can pilot, yeah.

[He'll slip into the seat, easy, used to the travel.]

Just, hm. Get settled in.

[He'll pilot smoothly. Injured person on board and all.]

[He works as quickly as he can. An antihistamine shot - just in case - and then the complicated task of getting an IV catheter into a vein when things aren't quite as motionless as he'd like.]

... did I already mention how impressive it is that you got a needle in to give a transfusion? Maybe I should have piloted and let you have a go at treatment!

[But he sees the little flash of blood in the hub and gets a fluid line hooked up and an intravenous injection of antibiotics for good measure.]

[It's important to know first aid in a jarred, wiggling automobile, man. Also good to pilot one steady even after you've lost -- or given -- some blood. The Wastelands are an interesting place like that.]

Trained in some first aid, when I was younger.

Nothing special, though. Better at making bombs.

[Both eyebrows shoot straight up at that, but if he's feeling stressed about this new information, his voice at least doesn't sound too strained.]

I'd say we could talk about it over a few beers, but you don't strike me as the anecdotal type.

[He snorts, which is pretty close to being good-natured and humored. Almost.]

Don't really drink.

[He shrugs a shoulder.]

Home's a wasteland, people fight. Important to know how to kill those people.

[So congrats on hanging out with the crazy dude. He's a nice crazy dude, though.]

Well, when you put it like that, it's hard to argue.

[He does another quick vitals check on Maggie and then starts packing things back into his bag.]

Any idea on an ETA?

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