Your oc is in the hospital with the oc above

With a hollow stare, and utter silence, Melody clutches a vase full of flowers in between her paws. She can't remember how she was involved with this stranger, but the inner twinge of guilt she felt upon looking at him suggested that she ought to pay her respects.
"... For you," she manages to mumble in a monotone, suddenly thrusting the vase towards Dezik.
A few seconds of chilled silence pass before Melody realizes that the patient, in his current state, can't exactly accept the flowers. She corrects herself, instead awkwardly shuffling over to his bedside table and placing it there.
She turns back to Dezik, her mind afog, and bows her head slightly.
"I don't know you... Nor what happened... But... I am sorry for your injury. May your recovery be swift... And... Good night."
Slowly, she backs out of the room, and shuffles her way back down the hallway. How did she even get here? She doesn't know, but man, is she hungry.

~

((@ np: melody is probably at the hospital following being rightfully knocked on her ass during one of her little berserk fits she has. so, if you wanna play a character that could topple her tiny furry ass, you can JFJDJJEJF she just wont recognize you! ))

"I thought this was a hospital for, like, animals and shit. Not for people who want to escape the menace that is overly high health bills." Wow. First-world problems, much?

Blissfully unaware of his own hypocrisy, Fitzgerald tapped his foot while scrutinizing his (fellow) patient and rubbed the back of his hand. Somehow peering over at the back of Fitzgerald's hand without getting into a bitch baby slap fight with the youth would've brought a bandage into clear view. The linen was wrapped around the potential wound with some refinement - though it was starting to stink of antiseptic, and neither material used to dress the wound was medical grade by any means. In spite of his ineptitude in a variety of topics, the youth shuffled his feet and clenched his bandaged hand, his teeth just biting down onto his lip ever so slightly when the back of his hand started to tense slightly.

"I could pay for the bills if you want," he suggested nonchalantly, as if talking about the weather or something menial, "but I think it'd be too much of a blow to your ego for you to consider..." He paused. "... Right?" Oh, shut up. Though the question certainly was framed like the rich brat was starting to give a shit about the other party, the conniving sneer sure as hell didn't help. If anything, it proved otherwise, as Fitzgerald sucked in a breath and started to rub the bandage in increasing agitation.

When the fuck is this doctor going to come over? I could have fucking rabies as far as I know! Does this hospital even serve serum!?

With a shake of his head, Fitzgerald continued with a grunt, "I mean... I hope it's not too much of an affront if you could really use the money. Technically, I'm not even supposed to be tapping into my parents' savings, but..." Again, he trailed off. He deserved it. Please stop venting your first-world, rich brat problems in a public place. Nevertheless, Fitzgerald's glower seemed to almost soften for a second, though it was unfortunately pretty subtle to anyone who wasn't a Fitzgerald connoisseur. Not that it was worth being an expert regarding Fitzgerald's body language anyhow, as he took a step forwards in the check-in line.

"... Whatever," he scoffed, "I'm going to get their money once they die, so I can't really complain about that. I just hope I don't have rabies or distemper. I don't think they'd get it anyhow..." Wow. Edgy. Fitzgerald shook his head and crossed his arms, one of his fingers picking at the bandages covering the other. Please don't do that. That's unhygienic. "... But that asides..." the young man started before turning to the other party, in perhaps the most unfortunate manner possible.

"How did you get injured?" Fitzgerald asked with a raised brow, "You look like you fell pretty hard. Are you sure you even need a hospital? There's plenty of decent folk remedies for bruises, at least according to my adaptation exercises- Shit." He stepped forward as soon as a sizable space opened up for him in the front. "I could provide them, as well as the money for your medical bills. Just... Let me know - I guess. I'm more than happy to provide." And...? Fitzgerald remained silent after that, though his lip twitched as if he wanted to utter more. Of course he did. The idea of dangling a price - something of the confectionery kind - was admittedly quite tempting to him...

@ NP: Fitzgerald can be in the hospital for a variety of reasons, but pretty much all of them are related to his studies in one way or another (ex: taking his Pokemon to the vet for checkups, got bitten by an animal, etc.)!! try not to go too gory or serious if hurting Fitzgerald though; he's rather risk-averse and is quick to cower if exposed to genuinely dangerous situations.

I'll also try my best to make a follow-up for NP if I have the time!!

"Your nurse today have a unexpected job come undone, I was the one in charge of them." Teelöffel tied her caramel locks up, checking her equipments on the roller. 

"Hm, lung cancer." Muttered Teelöffel while reading the younger boy's medical record, that's a bad case, well, uncontrollable cell division always a bad case. At least it have been known as a dangerous and famous disaster enough to people's care. She dazed her gaze at the young patient a bit, then back with the record, "I will take a daily record of your primary vital signs." Placed the files down, Teelöffel wiped her hand.

"Now please rest for 15 minutes. I shall be back with my equipments prepared." the corpsman prepared thermometer with a sphygmomanometer, adjust her watch.

Teelöffel is a inter in hospital, literally works in hospital. She could wear blouse and work as a qualified nurse as well.

"Careful there with those witch hunts," drawled Beatrice while leaning back in her seat and scrawling some notes into her notepad, "You never know what those folks could contain, both in terms of weaponry and..." She hesitated for a second, clicking her pen against the paper before she peered over at the patient she was currently looking into. "... Magic." Goodness, did that word feel like tar against her tongue.

The middle-aged woman, in fact, had to take a few seconds to smack her lips and pause, at least before she shook her head and continued, "I doubt that my girlfriend would be particularly happy if she found out teh sort of trouble you are in at the moment. It is one thing to get oneself injured, but when you are injured in a potentially life-or-death matter..." Beatrice paused again and chewed on her lip; her pen continued to click, and the older woman eventually just opted to place her notepad and utensil off to the side, just to prevent distractions to both sides. Oh, and before one brought up the notepad... The notes on the stationery were perfectly illegible, looking like a convoluted jumble of loops and curls with seemingly no rime or reason whatsoever.

Beatrice, therefore, had no need to worry over this interview. The patient, termed Sogno, didn't seem like the type to lash out, and they were supposed to be in a bui9lding protected by interregional convention. Unless...

With a shake of her head, the journalist grunted, "... Well, I suppose you do not want me to fill in the blanks. Perhaps because the implications are obvious, but..." She paused again. For a full minute, it was silent in the room before Beatrice leaned in and asked more casually, "How is the stay going, by the way? I heard that the food here is tolerable, though I have not tried any of it myself..." Uhhh... The middle-aged woman glanced over her shoulder and chewed on her lip, at least before she carefully clasped her hands together.

"... I hope that is not the case, to be honest with you." Wow! Way to unintentionally sound like an asshole there!

"But that asides, I did bring something over, as part of a favor for my girlfriend," Beatrice sniffed while digging her hand into her pocket... Which was probably a terrible thing considering that said pocket was probably full of lint and other miscellaneous shit- And within that miscellaneous shit was a tangerine, unpeeled and certainly not bruised. In fact, the fruit itself was in perfect condition, though the citrus scent emanating from the peel was admittedly a bit more subtle than expected for a seemingly mint-condition fruit. The middle-aged woman rolled the fruit in her hand for a few seconds before setting it onto the table for the other party to behold.

As she adjusted her position in her visitor's chair, Beatrice explained, "Rochester told me you might like this- You know, the pretty woman with the ponytail...", before coughing into her sleeve. "She told me you brightened up when she mentioned the fruit. She likes fruit, too, so at least that's promising... Did you know that fruits are good for the immune system? It keeps your body strong, in layman's terms. You might want to have a fruit along with you eventually. I don't know if my girlfriend will have the time or temper to continually provide this stuff for you."

@ NP: feel free to go for her default tab, which is written as being in her sixties (and before Rochester's death, for further reference), if you find that one easier to respond to!! my characterization notes will consider both versions, but they'll be spoilered for the sake of post brevity.

I'll also try my best to do a follow-up for NP if I have the time....

Wraith wasn't sure what happened entirely, he remembered being in a fight, squaring off against three bulky looking guys and then.........he couldn't remember. He winced as he saw the ceiling lights of the hospitals flash past his eyes in a repetitive pattern as he was wheeled down the corridors. He gave a groan as he felt a pain on the left side of his head, he could hear the sounds of doctors talking to each other as they look him into a ward. From what he could here there were four patients in this room, him now being one of them. He didn't really respond to when the doctors took his vitals and ran tests on him, making sure that there was nothing serious going on, before they dressed his wounds and placed an icepack on his head. Once they left, Wraith shifted his eyes to his side, wondering who was his neighbour right now. 

Well.....he didn't recognise them, that was good......at least it wasn't one of the men he was fighting. He watched as someone came to visit them, a middle aged woman entered the room and walked up to them; holding a notebook and a pen......an investigator maybe. When the woman looked at the shifter, Wraith didn't even try to cover up the fact he was paying attention to the whole scenario, most likely due to his concussion he was currently suffering with. Without warning the woman walked around the bed and drew the curtains shut, obscuring Wraith's view of what was going to happen, making sure to give him a glare as she did so. 

Grunting slightly Wraith closed his eyes and focused on his mentally scanning his body for injuries, head injury with concussion, slash wound lower left arm, bruised ribs and potentially a sprained wrist......not bad, it could have been a lot worse. Hissing through his teeth, the shifter slowly sat up, trying to assess how bad his concussion was as he kept the ice pack over his injury which had been bandaged. Once his vision had stabilised and the room wasn't spinning so much, Wraith swung his legs over the side of the bed and shakily stood up. He took this moment to not only see how his balance was, but to also quietly listen in on the potential investigation. It was no more than five minutes until a doctor came in and worriedly walked up to Wraith, considering when he came into the hospital he was out cold. 

There were several exchanges of words between the shifter and the doctor, who was advising that Wraith stayed until they were sure his other injuries were all clear. During this conversation he was pretty sure he saw the woman from earlier peering around the curtain she had drawn earlier, the other patients were also staring. 

"No..I'm.....I'm fine, you said that I didn't have a major injury to the brain and I have no internal bleeding, I don't need to stay here." He grunted, the mix of the bright lights and loud noises were making his pounding migraine worse. He took a step back, leaning against the bed for support. "You....you don't understand, I need to get back to wherever I was found, those people are still on the loose." He half snarled at the thought of running into them again. He was so lost in the conversation with now two doctors that he didn't notice the woman had taken an interest in what he was saying. "They are responsible for underground fighting arenas and letting loose their fighters onto the streets, if you don't let me go, you're going to end up with more patients." Wraith was blaming his pounding head for sharing so much information but it seemed like whoever this stranger was several feet away from him, it was certainly gaining her curiosity, even if he sounded crazy right now. All he had to do was to get out of here, he took a step forward towards the doctors to give some sort of lie of reassurance that he would be fine, only for his world to spin and eventually went black as he collapsed; luckily caught by the two doctors in front of him who placed him back on the bed. 

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NP - Wraith gets into so many fights it is no surprise that he would end up in hospital a few times, however he wouldn't go into one willingly, he would have to be knocked out or dragged to one. And even then, good luck making him stay there, if he knows your character, they may be able to get through to him unless he passes out first, he's incredibly stubborn. He is also very self conscious of his scars and knowing that there is a chance that people would see them, especially since they link to his past and his own self hatred. This is just an idea, don't feel limited by it, go nuts. ^.=.^

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Follow Up:

Oh boy, guess who hadn't been to an actual hospital since...

Well, maybe it didn't matter. The older man sauntered down the hospital corridor alongside Hitomi, now and then sending glances over his shoulder to the room they had left. It wasn't like either him or his teenage daughter were here for any big, scary reason, but such a building was certainly a change of scenery. More so, he tended to visit small apothecaries and get what he needed there, but someone had to kick a feral dog, and then get her arm torn to shreds. So, it was either here or rabies.

"I'm awfully sorry about the hassle, miss." He said to Hitomi, sending a look down at her. She was a suspicious young woman, although he figured part of that was her eyes -- such a deep crimson was nerve-wracking -- and her bizarre uniform. Did these foreign hospitals really require their nurses to wear such garb? Bah.

"I'd stay in there with her, but I think she'd rather not have me around." he commented, "Both of us probably need the break, anyway. I mean, not that you can actually take a break. I'm sure you have to deal with bullshit all the time. I couldn't imagine being a doctor." Oh, how glad he was that he didn't follow his childhood dreams! "I do need the coffee, though, or else I'll keel over."

He turned down the corridor, spotting ahead the small coffee shop built into the hospital lobby.

"I can buy you a coffee, though, if you'd like." he added, "It'll be my treat. Goodness knows you need it, right?" Then, he barked out a laugh. An ugly, flat laugh, as if he knew that there was nothing to find hilarious.

"Just come back around here on your way." He added, before reaching down towards his pockets. "I might also head out for a cigar, though. Speaking of, I don't know why you people say we can't smoke in here, because it's really not like it's hurting anyone but me."  Ah, so this old man is a dumbass? "I'll get a cup for you, though, like I said -- you look like the type to enjoy something as shiny as these damned floors, though. You look like one of those people who'd like mocha with an obnoxious amount of whipped cream and sprinkles on top. Eugh, how awful.

..He'd get a drink for his daughter, but she called him an asshole on the way here, so she gets nothing. She loses. Time for him to find a new daughter.

for np: noel could be here either for himself or for his daughter. they're both idiots who live in the middle of batshit nowhere, don't have fancy tech, and like, no medical supplies. so anything could happen. have fun. go crazy.

also hopefully i'll write a follow-up post

oh god. this is long. I'm spoilering my response for length, as well as because Brown does joke a good bit about death and violence in her latest attempt to bother Noel- 😔

@ NP: Brown is meant to be human, so check out her Human tab if considering her appearance!! I'm just posting as her urban legend tab in case it inspires your response!! also, I'm gonna put characterization notes under a spoiler for the sake of post brevity, but feel free to go creative with your response!!

I'll also try my best to do a follow-up for NP?? maybe??

warning for blood, and band-aids

Destiny is more likely to be in the hospital mostly because she has a minor injury as in a scrape or bruise, but she'll also be there because she's just lurking the hospital for candy! Have fun!

   It was a cold day out there. Despite having woken not long ago, it was well into the afternoon, judging by the sun's position outside the window. Despite the clear skies, the air was frigid, and slipped under the thin blankets of the hospital beds. Of course, his leg hurt. Actually, the pain had crept up his hip today. Raine closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking a sharp breath as he moved even slightly. It wasn't the worst day. He might not call it a severe day, though for what it meant, it was... expected. 

  Hearing footsteps, he called, "Forrest. Would you close the window?" 

  Only after, when he glanced though the corner of his eyes, did he realize it was not his brother. A little girl? She was no more than a toddler. Not bandaged, not wheeled around in a wheelchair, not even minded. And yet...

  "Oh. I apologize- er... that is to say, I am sorry. I had thought you were my brother. It's alright. You can come closer. Just... do not yell, okay?" He couldn't say that he'd ever spoken to such a young child. The only people he ever spoke to were twice, thrice his age, and Forrest. And despite the fact he had already invited her in, he began working to brush his hair as flat as he could get with his fingers. Raine tried to smile- he did- but it was not an expression that came to him naturally, and it was even more difficult to when he lived in pain nearly every day of his life.  

  "My name is Raine. Would you tell me yours? I know it's a lonely place here..." 

  For the living, sure. For those who could see ghosts, it was a bit overwhelming. 

  "... I've spent a lot of time here. Would you like to hear a story? My mother used to tell them to me. And I told them to my brother when he spent nights here with me. And... ah. There... my brother brought some confection on the nightstand..."

---

raine's likely to be in for like. pretty much anything. chronic pain probably. depression. his dumb little brother, you name it

Black had simply been wandering around the hospital halls, like he… Wasn’t supposed to do. He had been in here for a work injury that Mulberry absolutely insisted he go to the ER for… Fun. He felt mostly better… Beyond his thigh, which had a still-healing gash in it, but that was whatever, right? He didn’t want to stay in this fucking hospital any longer, anyway. If he saw one more doctor or nurse, he was going to fucking lose his shit.

He limped past a room with an open door, and out of nothing but sheer curiosity, he peeked inside. There was someone who seemed at least somewhat young sitting there, in a hospital bed. He couldn’t help but stare for a little while… Which bit him in the ass when the kid finally noticed him there. Well, shit. This was awkward. “Hey, kid. Sorry. I stare at people sometimes,” he murmured, “Also, don’t tell any of the doctors or nurses I was here. I’m trying to make a run for it. Anyway… How long have you been in here?” He leaned a little bit to the side, if only to relieve some pressure on his injured leg. “If it’s a long time, I fucking pity you. I couldn’t fucking imagine having to sit there for days, weeks, maybe even months. I can’t even stand a night here.” He chuckled a little bit over his own iatrophobia, then said, “You need anything? I can probably try and steal it from a closet or break room or something… Or-”

He shut up as a code was called on the intercom. “Never mind, sorry. I need to go, just in case that’s a missing patient code. If you want to see me and I get caught or some shit, just let me know, okay?” He then limped off as fast as he could.

Beyond the self-harm/emeto warning from Rusty's post (though for once, I didn't actually explicitly address any of that since Black's more focused on being scared), there's also an imagined scenario of medical abuse, so just a warning for that as well. Otherwise... Follow-up time!