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The Arms Hotel, Saturday

Nikolai had slept in today. His alarm had gone off, and a good hour later he'd finally blinked awake of his own accord, looked at the time, and had even had a moment of the requisite 'oh shit, I'm late for work!' morning panic before realizing that the light on his watch was still on. The one that went off at the same time as the alarm sound. Weird, but he'd shrugged and turned it off, figuring his watch was broken and at the very least, sleeping in wasn't entirely his fault.

It was during the rest of his scramble to get ready that he realized that the problem was not his watch.

And it was during his attempt to find the clinic in town that Allie had once mentioned to him that he realized that the problem was not just with his ears.

So if anyone needed Nikolai today, they'd find him sitting shirtless at the desk at the arms, looking equal parts annoyed and bewildered as he attempted to hold a dishrag from the kitchen against a long bloody line of claw marks down his shoulder while writing a sign for the door that read:

Welcome To The Arms Hotel
You probably don't want to go out there today.
Guests have lunch half-off today.

Nikolai was almost thankful that everyone was suddenly and inexplicably deaf when Gunther came out to investigate the missing dishrag. His attempt at chewing Nikolai out via charades had been hilarious.

[Open!]

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There are a few pens and notepads around the lobby and dining area to make placing orders or requests simpler for those who are at least literate.

For someone called the 'Dark Knight,' Batman sure seemed to be doing a lot of fighting during the day recently. He stumbled in to the lobby after taking a good shot from a wakwak outside, but he found what he'd been looking for right away.

He grabbed a luggage cart, wheeled it outside at a full charge, and fired his grapple before jumping on.... This was only a small part of the story, obviously.

He's alternating between tending to his shoulder and pulling off his shades now and again to give dirty looks to the vampire harpy bitches outside before looking even more irate about his situation and putting them back on again.

Hannibal dove in the door, slamming it in the face of one of those...things. His bag was slung across his chest and he was carrying his largest kitchen knife, which was currently rather bloody.

He saw Nick and nodded. "Can you hear, or is it everyone?"

It was movement in the doorway from the corner of his eye that had Nikolai looking up to see Hannibal come in, not the words that were spoken, unfortunately. He met the sight of the doctor and his kitchen knife with a raised eyebrow, and then a bit of a frown, before pointing at one of his ears and giving a somewhat lopsided shrug, still clearly favoring his bloodied shoulder.

"Can't hear," he explained in a brief, kind of awkward mumble. He could still speak, but not hearing the words coming out of his mouth while actually vocalizing them was a surreal experience that he didn't much care to have more than was necessary. "That your blood or theirs?"

Hannibal grimaced. Yes, it seemed like it was everyone. Ah, well. Seeing the gesture at his knife, he waved it towards the door in explanation.

He eyed Nick, then frowned at his wounds. Coming over, he set his bag on the counter and pulled Nick's hand away from the claw marks. He gave him a look, then took the bloody dishrag and set his knife down on it.

Unpacking his tablet, he opened the drawing application and wrote, "You have a first aid kit?"

It took Nick a moment to look at the tablet and then think about where they kept the first-aid kits. The kitchen made the most sense, considering the knives and hot pretty-much-everything that people worked with all day in there. So he nodded, and jerked a thumb toward the kitchen door.

If Hannibal figured he'd have better luck with Gunther in there, and Nick was pretty sure he would, he was more than welcome to go and get it.

Hannibal nodded back and headed to the kitchen, taking his tablet with him. A few minutes later, he was back with a large metal box and a clean, damp rag. Really, Gunther was perfectly pleasant.

He opened the kit and was pleasantly surprised to find it well-stocked, though that likely only made sense here. He took out bandages, wipes, painkillers, and antiseptic and made a "come here" gesture at Nick.

See? Getting Hannibal to go in there after the first aid kit was totally the better option, here. Nikolai had managed to sneak in the first time for the rag, but spending much longer in there would've probably ended in a cast-iron frying pan being thrown at his face.

He gave the kit a glance, and then he stood, nodding and heading over to sit by Hannibal, presenting him with his shoulder.

Have at, Doc.

Hannibal found gloves in the kit, then cleaned the blood off with the rag and wipes. He frowned at the slices, prodded them gently, and reached for the tablet again.

"Parts of these should probably be stitched. They don't need it, but they'll heal better. The kit has sutures. It does not have local anesthetic."

He raised an eyebrow at Nick and held up the suture kit. His choice.

You know, Nick was getting very tired of needing to be sewn up again. He was side-eyeing the suture kit, giving the first aid kit another measuring look, and then sighing and nodding.

Yeah, he didn't see anything resembling the good drugs in there. But if the doctor was offering stitches, he wasn't going to be the guy to wave him off, either. His leg was still bothering him after his fall in Greece, he didn't need to run around any more injured than was strictly necessary.

Hannibal nodded and patted Nick on his good shoulder, then headed back to the kitchen. After a few moments, he returned with a bottle of distilled water and a dry rag. He hoped the hotel had a good laundry service.

He handed Nick the rag and got him to hold it against himself under the wounds, then carefully cleaned and dried them, disinfected them as best he could, and set about stitching the wider gaps.

Nick did as he was instructed, holding the rag under the wounds and then gritting his teeth as Hannibal set to work. There were definitely better ways to spend his shift than being sewn up by the gourmet doctor, but considering the situation, he wasn't complaining, either.

Actually, he was putting a great deal of focus into staying still, watching the needle move in silence. It wasn't the greatest feeling in the world, no, but he was stubborn, and he'd felt a whole lot worse than this, lately.

"Pretty sure I owe you one," he muttered under his breath, even if neither of them could hear.

Edited 2013-08-17 14:47 (UTC)

Hannibal stitched up the parts that needed it, tied everything off neatly, then set a bit of antibiotic on it and bandaged it expertly.

Once Hannibal was done, Nick raised a hand to prod experimentally at the bandages, and then gave a satisfied nod. Hell, he even turned a smile toward the doctor, mouthing a 'Thanks.'

Manners, from Nikolai. Yeah, he could appreciate being patched up and even show it. It was a rare thing, but hey, not having even slightly gaping wounds was generally a good thing.

Hannibal smiled as he peeled off the bloody gloves and sealed them in a waste bag. He handed Nick some ibuprofen from the kit and wrote on the tablet again.

"If it gets inflamed or otherwise seems infected, have it looked at." Which would hopefully not happen, but you never knew what could be left in a wound.

He frowned and wrote again. "Does it feel odd at all?" He sincerely hoped those claws weren't poisoned.

Nick took those ibuprofen and downed two of them dry, right where he sat. It was that kind of day.

And then he read Hannibal's second message, frowned a little, and shrugged with his good arm, shaking his head. It felt like he'd been slightly mauled, but not particularly as though his arm was about to fall off or anything. He'd be extra wary of something developing, though. Just like he'd be more than a little cautious about making certain it didn't wind up infected.

He still wasn't in any hurry to subject himself to blood tests or anything of the sort. A hearing test, sure. Emergency first aid? Fine. Something that might raise suspicions about whatever he'd picked up in Greece?

... No, not so much.

Well, at least there was that. He'd keep a close eye on Nick, though. If anything bad was going to come of it, he'd prefer advance notice.

"Do we know anything about what's going on?" he wrote next.

Nick frowned at that question, and then reached for the pen and a pad of sticky notes that he kept on the desk for jotting down phone numbers of guests. And of telemarketers that he daydreamed about finding just to punch them in the face. Because this was that kind of job.

"Everyone's deaf, we're being attacked by freaky harpy things," he wrote. "That seems to be the extent of it."

So, you know, he knew about as much as Hannibal did.

Hannibal grimaced. At least the sharks he'd been able to hear. He wondered how his students were doing, and winced, remembering that they were all in plastic castles this weekend. He hoped they had the sense to head inside.

Yeah, Nikolai wasn't going to let that wince go without mention.

"Some new reason to start making faces, now?"

Hannibal shook his head. Nothing they could do anything about, anyway. Well, he'd managed to make it across the causeway; he should be able to make it back.

He packed his tablet back up and gestured toward the causeway grimly.

Edited 2013-08-17 17:53 (UTC)

Nick looked back out the window, and then raised an eyebrow at Hannibal. Seriously? He was going back out there?

He gave his head a shake, and then reached for a key to one of the vacant rooms. Going back out there with those things swooping and clawing outside the door was nothing shy of crazy, Hannibal. Honestly, now.

"On me for the night," he wrote before sliding the key across the desk to him. "Best not to go back out unless you have to."

Hannibal took the key just in case, but unfortunately he had to try ~~because otherwise the thread with Kaidan and Dean makes no sense~~. He appreciated the concern, but he could take care of himself.

So do you look at these gifs and go, "damn, I should have tweaked it right... there."?

In the case of this one, I look at it and go, "oooh, hey, they revised the spikies on my tentacle!"

... Which is a weird thing to say.

Edited 2013-08-18 10:01 (UTC)

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The Arms Hotel, Saturday

Mod Your Service!

Re: Mod Your Service!

Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

Re: Talk t-- Er, Communicate With Nikolai

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