xxxix λ medical attention (backdated to Saturday night)

[assassino]

[Thank God for adrenaline.

Ezio's heart is still pounding out that usual thrill-of-the-kill beat, even as he hikes up the hill to the Castle. His bloodied tunic has already been discarded in a dumpster and the body and weapons locked up in a safe place, and without those things to occupy his mind, Ezio is thoroughly focused on getting up to the clinic to get his own wounds looked at.

The most notable of which is the slice on his side, where a blade had punctured and slid out the other side. Avoiding any necessary organs, fortunately, but it is still bad enough that Ezio has to keep his hand overtop of the strip of cloth he had hastily tied there to keep it from bleeding more.

He should have been wearing armor, but then again, he didn't exactly expect a fight.]

Pezzo di merda...

[He gets inside, gets up the elevator with little fanfare, and lets himself into the clinic. He looks around almost warily, at first –– hopefully no one he knows very well is in here, but bleeders can't be choosers.]

Hello? I need some help.

Comments

[atrophied]

[ At the sound of the door, House was already leaning back in his chair to see who came in. An eyebrow shoots up. ]

Did you fall into a cheese grater?

[assassino]

[An excuse would be good right about now. Ezio pauses, and then shrugs his shoulders.]

No, I tripped. Come here, I need stitches.

[He beckons for House to come over with his free hand, the other still clutching his rapidly reddening side. So much for that shirt.]

[atrophied]

I am not a dog. You sit over there.

[ He points at an empty bed. ]

[assassino]

I did not call you a--- Fine, fine.

[Ezio scowls, but does what he's told. When one isn't paying for medical care, he supposes one has to be nicer in order to actually get it.]

[atrophied]

[ House snaps on his gloves and picks up the scissors to cut the shirt off. ]

Lie back. Try to relax. What happened? Remember I have the scissors when you answer.

[assassino]

[ Ezio does as ordered, swinging his feet up and turning so he can lay down. His side gives a stab of protest with the movement, but he grits his teeth through it.]

Does it really matter? It was just a blade.

[atrophied]

Yes, it does. And you got off lucky too.

[ He only warns for the alcohol when he starts cleaning. ] This will sting.

[assassino]

If I were wearing my armor, it wouldn't have— agh!

[Thanks a lot, House.]

[atrophied]

Wrong night to forget it. You want anesthesia or are you going to tough it out like a man?

[assassino]

[Ezio pauses, looking to House with narrowed eyes.]

I am so manly that I do not even know what anesthesia is.

[atrophied]

[ He hides exactly how pleased this answer makes him. ]

Good on you. There's been a few passing through here that...well...

[ so let's start closing this up sans anything for pain ]

[assassino]

[He grits his teeth. He's dealt with this shit before, but it still hurts every time.]

That what?

[atrophied]

They're not quite as manly as they claim to be. We seem to have lost it over the centuries.

[assassino]

I have noticed! All these big "tough" men talking about their feelings and -- argh –– complaining about petty nuisances. Crying at the first sight of blood or suffering!

[atrophied]

What can I say? Quality went down the toilet as better toilets showed up.

[assassino]

So it seems. No true man would survive the wound but complain about the process of healing it.

[atrophied]

The process of healing can sometimes make you wish you hadn't survived it.

[assassino]

I would only say such a thing if I were crippled horribly. Or lost my dick.

[atrophied]

I tell you what. If you ever do lose your dick and there's no way to reattach it, I'll give you a mercy. Maybe it'll have grown back two weeks later.

[assassino]

Would Paradisa do such a thing? Not that I am at risk of losing my dick... I have been wary of diseases.

[atrophied]

No idea. Don't know of anyone who wants to volunteer so a mystery it'll remain.

[assassino]

I could hack off some asshole's arm and we can see.

[atrophied]

Anybody I know?

[assassino]

If you didn't already, you won't know.

[Teeth grit.]

[atrophied]

Touchy.