Umbrella Surveillance System
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Bob It's a shitty day for Bob, having been shot up and electrocuted before watching a couple explode to death when an underground facility collapsed on top of them. He's here for treatment for the injuries after putting it off for way longer than he should have. Sitting up atop one of the exam tables he's already removed his shirt and set the table so that he's sitting up, making it easier for him to breath with the chest injuries.
Emma Not to long ago another came in. That other person was rushed to surgery, and Emma took that time to deal with her next patient. She walks in to see Bob, and frowns. "Blo - bloody'ell, ya too?" She sounds concerned and goes to look at his chest.
Bob "Yeah, me too," Bob says, swallowing before looking up at Emma sheepishly. "It was a real nasty situation." There's a little difficulty breathing, but nothing too bad. He sits back to let the doctor do her thing, wincing in pain as he does so, shutting his eyes to blank it out the best he can. "Took a few rounds that went right through the vest. No aid in the pleural space, though, I put on some dressings to prevent a tension pneumothorax."
Emma There is a quick nod. Emma is also wearing scrubs, having changed due to previous injury tending. "Yer - yer gonna need ta lay down, an' I'll get these cleaned an' tha bullets out an' stitched." From there she goes to grab some gloves. "Wh - what happened?"
Bob "Fuck," Bob mutters under his breath when he's told to lay down. But he does as the lady instructs, laying the table all the way back so that he's flat in the supine position, ready for the healing hands. "Shot by a BOW. And electrocuted by some misfiring electrical panel things." It's clear he's not enjoying laying down very much based on the pain on his face and shallower breathing. "Circumstances are classified, but it was a total mess."
Emma Lips press together as he mentions that it is classified. There will be getting no information here. "W - was Chase part of this?" Asks the lass, as she begins to examine and clean where need be, tools out also go remove bullets.
Bob "You saw him, too?" Bob asks her, trying not to move as Emma goes to work on him. He actually tries to be a little helpful by indicating where the bullets went in and where most of them came out as she preps him. "I'm pretty glad. When he didn't hit me up I was concerned."
Emma "He - he just came in, not ta long ago." Emma frowns as she works. "He is in surgery right now, for internal bleedin'." There is the sound of metal on metal as she removes some bullets, oh and he would of been given painkillers. "Wha - what did ya fight?'
Bob "Doctor-patient confidentiality, right?" Bob says as he lays there all stoic and stuff, enduring the removal of bullets from his torso. "Giant BOW called Nemesis. Thing was packing a minigun and yelling about 'stars'." Ugh, his head lolls back as he Emma works on him. "Some of the people there recognised it from Raccoon City, but it was new to me. Scary as hell, too."
Emma "Aye." Emma says to his question. She continues to work, thinking over Racoon and her friends. "I - I heard there was somethin' there that was terrorizin' people." Another 'tink' as a bullet is removed. "Stars? Maybe it meant old Stars members?"
Bob "It was damn near indestructible, whatever it was. It shrugged off grenades and high caliber rifle fire and hardly slowed down," explains Bob as he watches Emma do her thing. One might expect him to cringe or something, but between the interest in all things medical and the fact that he's rocking on some pain killers he watches Emma remove bullets from his flesh.
Emma Emma is gentle too, and efficient. More tings sound as she removes bullets. Those are done, and so she would again clean, and then prepare for stitching. "H - how awful." Speaks the lass, shaking her head. "I - I considered tha FBC? likely I'd die sooner than later if I did, if yer up against that." Grey-green eyes look up to him briefly. "Yer lucky ya got away."
Bob Once Emma's finished pulling bullets from him, Bob's trying to relax as much as he can, being all doped up helps a lot. His head turns to the side so he can look at Emma's face, "It's a dangerous job. There were a ton of casualties. I wouldn't want to see you get hurt or killed and I'm glad you're working private sector." He moves his head up and down in a bit of a nod, "I am lucky. I keep wondering if I screwed up somehow, but it was just bad luck when we lost people to that thing."
Emma She goes a hint red. "Well I - I don't have tha intent ta go in an' get killed, I just know I'm no fighter, an' that'd likely be my undoin'." Emma shrugs, a little. "Seems tha idea of me gettin' hurt doesn't sit well with most." But her tone suggests that she is impartial to it, accepting even. "I'm sure yer not ta blame. I bet ya - ya did everythin' in yer power ta stop it from happenin'."
Bob "I've seen you shoot. You don't suck," Bob tells her as he starts to lean on his side before he remembers he's getting patched up. These drugs are really doing wonders for him, apparently, "Nobody wants you to get hurt because you're so awesome and sexy." And then there's a shrug of his shoulders, "I've lost soldiers before. Eventually I'll decide it's my fault, drink on it and work out that I did what I was trained to and then realize I shouldn't beat myself up about it."
Emma And Emma goes -red-, and in her shy sweet way, keeps her head down some. Right now she is in scrubs, sure she rocks them but, still scrubs. "S - sexy, really?" That seems to surprise her most.

"We - we got a good therapist on staff, maybe ya should try ta - ta talk to them? Or I can listen, too."
Bob "Definitely really," Bob says to her as he nods his head very seriously, making eye contact the whole time even though he's now started to get a little droopy eyed and stoned thanks to the meds. "In fact, you should let me take you dancing after you get off tonight. We'll dance until the sun comes up and stay in bed until dinner, how's that sound?" Yep, definitely uninhibited due to the painkillers. "Oh, I already get my head shrunk. Guy said to make a journal, so I write a journal. Talk about all the monsters I shoot and shit like that. Wrote about how hot you are, too."
Emma Is Emma ever -red-. She clears her throat, while stitching him up. Yup, the lass is speechless for a second to. After one is done grey-green eyes look up, with a bit of a smile. "Yer - yer really feelin' those painkillers, hm?" Then, with cheeks still red she looks back down and continues her work. "Ya - ya really wrote 'bout me bein' sexy?"
Bob "Yeah, I feel like a million bucks. You should definitely try this shit," Bob says to her with a big grin on his face, head rocking back a little bit. "I most definitely did. I talked about how I got invited to a party by a hot soon to be doctor, this was the party before the New Year's bar party." He pauses and smiles again, "So we're going dancing, right? You know I'm Latino, so I'm magically gifted in all sorts of ways."
Emma "Oh." Emma remains red, because her mind can't seem to wrap around someonr finding her sexy. Meanwhile the lass continues to work, stitching him up, and smiles in an amused way. "I - I get tha feelin' yer speakin' of a double meanin' now. I don't doubt yer able ta - ta dance. Why don't we get ya patched up first, hm?"
Bob "Alright, once we're all done we'll go find a nice club," Bob tells Emma before he looks down to watch her work again. "You want me to help? We could get this done and be cheek to cheek on the floor in no time. Just pass me a suture kit," He suggests in all seriousness. "I can't drink much, though, because I got jumped by terrorists so I gotta stay pretty sober so I can shoot them next time."
Emma "H - How 'bout ya sit back an' relax an' let me do all tha work." Emma suggests looking up to him with a brief smile. "Ya - ya got jumped, hm? Te - tell me 'bout it."
Bob "Oh? That's what you like? You won't hear me arguing with you," Bob replies with the best smirk he can manage, which soon shifts into a loopy grin as he tries to just lay back and take it. "Yeah. Terrorists from PITE, I think. Paradise Islands. I've been looking into them ever since shit got weird and then these Caribbean bozos jumped me. I beat them up and caught one, guy had like four different fake passports on him. They're working out of an abandoned Umbrella facitility. Can't wait to get down there and shoot them so they don't unleash zombies or any of that shit. Terrorists today LOVE zombies." He just keeps running on, "Also this weird little girl at work loves to shoot them. I think she's a psycho."
Emma A brow lifts as she listens. "I - I know a bit 'bout tha paradise islands." She admits softly. "When ya - ya goin'? I'd like ta tag along, if ya don't mind."
Bob "I've got no plans to go any time soon, but you can come if you want to," Bob says with a smile. "They had cannibals there until the twentieth century so we need to be careful of them in case they're still around."
Emma "Cannibals?" Emma asks, curious. Seems it's her turn to be learning a few things now. "Well I - I am not to sure if I'll be in to much danger, ya'know. Since I'm sure ya'll make sure I am protected."
Bob "I'll protect you from the cannibals, make sure they're don't eat you," Bob says, puffing out his wounded chest. "Not like that," He starts doing his high as balls explaining to her. "I'll do that if you want, but..." He looks at Emma for a second, "Wait, did you invite yourself on vacation with me? You dirty girl." There's a wink sent her way and a sly smile.
Emma Wow, Emma is just red. -Red-. A whole new level of red. She can't even talk, or look up, the shy lass so.. shy! There are a few stitches left, before at last, eyes move up to him. "Ya - ya would like that hm?" Like what? It's not pointed out. "Yer - yer flyin' high on these meds, I - I bet sober and yer not thinkin' like that right?" Seems she may be thinking he is only saying this because he is high, though her cheek are red.
Bob "I'd love it," says the very intoxicated man very seriously. He lifts himself up a little bit, apparently having forgotten about the fact that he's still be worked on. "I'm feeling good, but I'm thinking the same thing when I'm sober, you know? I think you're hot and awesome and great all the time." At this point in his semi-stupor he reaches out and attempts to hold Emma's hand, not seeming to notice it's got something in it.
Emma "O - oh. Th - thank ya." Emma replies. The poor lass, so shy, and so not good with romance. She looks fown shyly, but it's in time for when he goes to take her hand. Quickly her free hand goes to grab his. "Ca - careful, ya don't wanna be hurt more." Slowly, she would go to put his hand down at his side, with a smile. "Yer - yer best ta lay back an' relax, I don't wanna have ta tie ya down so ya don't rip out yer stitches."
Bob "I'd lay down on pain things for you, Emma," speaks Bob solemnly, trying to make eye contact as he says it. He does manage to lay back down, "You're a great doctor. I'm feeling like a million bucks. Just let me know when I'm done so we can get out of here and go dancing."
Emma Her eyes do meet his, and there is a slow nod. "I - I'd never ask anyone ta - ta suffer through pain for me, I can't imagine inflictin' pain ta - ta anything." She is a sweet, kind soul. "I'll let ya - ya know when yer done, what I think ya need to do is relax. I'm gonna give ya a 'round of antibiotics too, don't need ya gettin' an infection. An', thank ya, means a lot ta hear."
Bob "I know you wouldn't but I'm trying to be romantic," Bob explains patiently as he does his best to lay still. "I'm bad at romance because I can't pick good women or something. You're a good one so I gotta try to lock you down, you know?"
Emma "I - I see," Emma says gently. "I'm not good with romance either." His hand is put down, and given a pat. "Lock me - me down? How do ya mean?"
Bob "It means that I got to start dating you officially so that nobody else can, silly," Bob explains with a shake of his head, which he immediately stops doing when he realizes he's still be worked on. "But it wouldn't last long with us. You'd definitely find someone better than me. I don't blame you." A frown appears.
Emma "I - I decide who, an' what is best for me." Emma says, firmly, yet gently to Bob, going to pat his hand again. "Why - why don't ya rest, an' get some sleep. Yer gonna need ta lay here a while. When yer rested, we can talk more if ya want, okay?"
Bob "Are you saying I'm good for you?" Bob asks with wide, sleepy looking eyes. "I'll stay here until you're ready for me. But when you're all set come get me and then we can go out."
Emma "I'm sayin' I decide for myself an' not others." Emma replies. Now that she is done, with bandages on that'll be on only briefly, and everything else, she would cover him with a blanket. "Just rest, ya - ya need that more than anythin' right now."
Bob "Okay. I'll take a nap and then you can take me dancing and lock me down before I find myself some crazy chick or a cheating stripper or a chick that pulls a knife on me," Bob kind of just lists exes before he tucks himself in with the blanket. "Or a lady who cheats on me when I deploy. Or one that keeps having kids by senior NCOs so she can collect child support...." Thankfully he trails off and just sort of stares at the ceiling.
Emma "I'm sorry." Emma says, as he stares off. It's awful stories, and from some past relationships, she can understand. Giving his arm a supportive squeeze she would step away, to let him sleep and rest.