You wake up to a beeping sound echoing in your ears. Which is damn inconvenient, since the repetitive and high pitched noises rank very, very high in terms of things that you can't stand to listen to. Still, you pull your eyes open to look at where exactly you were. The room itself was pure white, but more than a little grungy in parts. Briefly relieved that you were not in some heavenly afterlife or limbo, if you even qualified for either, you try to sit up and figure out exactly where you are. You catch a glimpse of the cot you were seated on, and medical equipment surrounding you, before a pair of hands push your chest down and back onto the bed.
Shocked, you struggle and try to bat away at the offending lbs, but they withdraw before you can get near them. Then a hand sweeps in and smacks you upside the head, sending your already groggy head reeling. You groan and curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around your ringing head in defense. A sigh comes from above you, and you hear the scratch of a pen.
"Brother Joshua? I am your nurse, you are in the hospital, so stop acting like a child and sit up so I can inspect your condition." There's a pause, and the voice continues in one of the most acidic tones you had ever heard with a resigned sigh. "Please." You opened your eyes and moved to comply, if only to get your bearings. As you looked around, you saw your nurse, a Filipino woman in her thirties, tapping her foot impatiently as she looked at the clock on one of the dismal walls in irritation. "Anyway, you're in the care of Doctor Peng for now, and he'll be the one explaining your medical situation. I'm just checking your condition. So, you feel any pains? Black spots in your memories. Sudden apathy towards anyone alive. You know, anything that could point towards brain damage or something." You unconsciously raise your hand to inspect your head for any wounds, then cock an eyebrow at the nurse.
"No, I had a separate head injury as a child, which is why I secretly keep a closet full of my victim's feet. You know how it works, a bump to the head and boom, homicidal maniac." The nurse smirked a little bit and scribbled something else on a clipboard.
"Ah, a joker. Well, better than a heroin addict again. Too many fuckheads start chasing the dragon in the clinic, little shits. But be careful with that wit of yours, since people might just take you at your word for weird shit like that. Not that they'd care, but rep matters. Sometimes, when you're in a pinch, it's all that matters." You were about to follow up on that comment, when the door opened to admit an aging Chinese man in a white doctor's coat. The nurse and him nodded at each other, and he took her clipboard as she left, putting a pair of reading glasses on his face as he scanned the page.
"Alright Mr. Arnette. According to our files, you were admitted to this clinic after a firefight the day just yesterday. I am Doctor Peng. I oversee your care when you were admitted, and am here to talk to you about your options when we release you." Doctor Peng was a serious type, with a straight back and a wrinkled face that was like a statue. Despite his age, he had a rather solid presence, if you could call it that. You grin a little, and finally ask the question that's been bothering you.
"So Doc, how bad is it?" You chuckle a bit as you make the joke, but the doctor just frowns at you and looks you over.
"Well, you lost everything below your left knee." There's a beat of awkward silence as the doctor's words sink in, then you scramble to look at your legs. Tue to the doctor's words, there's nothing beneath where our left knee is, just empty bed. You stare in shocked silence before you try to grab at the area where it was, as if it was a surreal daydream that you could just wake up from. There was no way some two bit thug crippled you on your first fucking day in Roanapur. You look back up at the doctor in confusion when you only grasp empty air.
"Wh-what? It's just, fucking gone?" Even as you said it, you were already processing it and trying to get over it. You were a realistic person, after all. People walked around with prosthetic limbs and such all the time, and you were pretty sure you could manage it eventually. And some people could run and so on without legs. Which didn't help the fact that you could feel your fucking foot, and it was gone.
"Yes. You might even feel it still, which is normal. Echoes and such. But it's gone. All your medical fees are paid for by the Church, so we just need to discuss any physical rehabilitation you may wish to go through, and your future options." Dr. Peng actually does seem to soften a little as he explains this to you, but it only puts you more on edge. You chew on your lip with some measure of anxiety, before you shake your head.
"Well, they did say that if I stepped foot in Roanapur, I was probably going to lose it. Talk about a metaphor gone wrong, huh?" It must have been the wrong thing to say, since Dr. Peng's folds into a scowl and he aggressively scribbles more on the page. Still, it made you feel better at the very least. Looking up, he lets out a small huff.
"Since you're humor is intact, and the bandages on your stump seem to be secure, we'll probably only keep you for a couple of weeks. Rather extraordinary for a wound from an explosive like yours. You may have some scarring on your back, since shrapnel tore you up, but nothing life threatening. Overall, you were extraordinarily lucky. We'll send you home in a wheelchair, and then we can fit you for a prosthetic anywhere from a week later to a couple of months." With that, the doctor stood up and walked to the door without a word. He opened it to reveal Sister Eda, who was in a tank top and daisy dukes that were very much not pious clothing, unless nuns partied much harder than you had thought.
"Hey, Doc Peng! You got stuck with my subordinate? Man, that's some fun stuff. You ever gonna come out and get drunk with me, or are you cool with just downing all the prescription drugs you got in your office?" Dr. Peng gives an eye-roll of the ages, and proceeds to walk around and completely ignore the grinning Eda. "Ok, that's cool too. I guess the pills and alcohol don't mix well. Let me know if you see any flying zebras!" She shouts this last sentence down the hall as the sound of Peng's footsteps get farther and farther away. Eda turns back to you and grins, pulling a six-pack of cheap beer from behind her back as she saunters into the room.
"So what are you preaching today? The Father, the Son and the Holy Jägerbomb?" Eda doesn't stop grinning, just puts the six pack on the nightstand on your right and pulls one off. She cracks it open as she falls into a hospital chair, she chuckles.
"Only one edit? Your snark needs some work, Brother Joshua." You snort as you pull one off of the pack as well. As you crack open one yourself, Eda downs at least half of hers. She was either very skilled in holding her alcohol, or she was just in a constant state of drunkenness. For your sanity, you hoped it was the former. Regardless, you weren't going to be beaten in a battle of heretical insults.
"No, I just thought that you wouldn't approve of a threesome without alcohol." Eda almost snorts out some of her beer, but she manages to drink the rest of it and crush the empty bottle in her hands before laughing loudly.
"Okay, new guy. You got something between your ears, I'll give you that. Now let me down a second one, I wanna be at least a little drunk before I have this conversation." True to her words, she downs another beer as you drink from yours, grimacing a little at the taste. You were in a shithole city in a shithole region in what was essentially a shithole of a world. You suppose that good beer was unlikely.
"Alright. So, first off, sorry. Me and Yolanda were supposed to protect you, and obviously, since you're a cripple now, we didn't. So, sorry, and here's some beer." You curl your nose at the beer in your hand, then look at her a bit dubiously.
"I mean, I've heard of stuff costing an arm and a leg, but I think you might've mispriced this beer. Even half off, it's pretty shitty. And you drank a third of it." Eda looks at the empty can in her hand and then at your missing leg and she grimaces a bit.
"Ah, right. Sorry about that. I've been told I need to work on my sensitivity. You know, putting the welfare of others above alcohol and such. But you know how it is. The tequila is like a part of the family, I promise. And me and the whiskey are practically married in the eyes of God." You laugh loudly at that one, which shifts your stump. A stabbing lance of pain erupts from it as you tense up mid laugh, the laugh turning into a grunt of pain. Eda is up out of her seat as she looms over you with what might be concern.
"Hey, hey hey! You okay? You're not going to bleed all over the beer, right?" You aren't sure if Eda is keeping up the joke to help you through the pain, or if she is legitimately concerned that your bandage wrapped stump would erupt in blood to splatter on the beer a bed length away, but you laughed either way.
"Haha, urk, no. It just hurts when I move it around. I guess I'm not on any painkillers anymore. Or at least less." Eda seems satisfied by the answer, and she settles down in the hospital chair once more. You doubt that Eda actually cares about your well being. She's a senior member of an organized crime group. She would strangle you with her bare hands in an instant without any remorse, you had no doubt. But she seemed to be embarrassed about her failure to protect you, so you were content to try to gain as much positive favor as you could while she was dedicating some time to you. Mainly with sex jokes, but you'll take what you can get.
"Okay, so the beer isn't enough of a bribe to get you to not tell HQ about our abject failure. What would? And no sex stuff, or I'll just shoot you in the face and take my lecture. I'm still more valuable to the Church than you." You raised an eyebrow as you realized that there was in fact consequences for Eda and Yolanda. You suppose that allowing you, a forger and accountant into combat could reflect poorly on them. And you could imagine that the punishments for something like this, which might delay operations by weeks, could be severe. Or at least attract undue attention. Immediately, a list of stuff that you could want, from a Ferrari to one of those golden guns, to a hundred other things popped into your mind. In the end, you grin slyly and request something exorbitantly expensive.
[] Sports car
[] Motorcycle
[] The best damn prosthetic money can buy
[] A Carte Blanche favor
[] Write In
Eda grimaces, and almost reflexively reaches to shield her wallet, before forcibly stopping herself. With a grimacing smile, she nods her head in acceptance.
"Well, you don't ask for anything cheap, but I suppose I can oblige. So we're good? We'll be working together, so I want to be sure that we're on the same page here. You nod and she begins to stand up.
"Actually, one more thing." You can see the gaze of Eda's sunglasses homing in on you, but you stand firm. "Help me finish this six pack? I'm not much of a drinker, and I don't want it to go to waste, especially as hot as it is around here." Eda lowers her shades a bit to look at you, then grins. She plops back into her chair and grabs another beer from the pack.
"Why Brother Joshua, I thought you'd never ask. We do have to attend to church duties, and what could be more vital than the blood of Christ?" You chuckle and you finally finish the first can and take your second.
"If this is the blood of Christ, then someone must have left the blood bag in the middle of an asphalt lot in Phoenix for days. But still, for the glory of God, I'll partake."
"Ah, Brother Joshua, it's fantastic that your piety remains unshaken in the face of terrible injury. Truly you're a model clergyman." You shrug in mock humility.
"I need no praise, Sister Eda. I'm just doing the Lord's work, drinking shitty beer. Exactly as the Ten Commandments ordered. How could I turn away from my holy duty in such a time? Truly, God tests us with his love. And alcohol." Eda finishes another beer at the same time you finish your second. You and the gun-toting nun look at the last one in sync, before a slightly drunk rock paper scissors match proclaims you the sole winner. You only get through as much as half the can while Eda pouts, before Dr. Peng is scowling fiercely in the doorway.
"No alcohol! You're still on painkillers, which means that the effects are greatly enhanced!" He sweeps into the room and snatches the can from your hand, holding it between two fingers and away as if it was radioactive. "And American swill to boot. I almost miss the druggies in the face of such disgusting taste." Peng continues to mutter about this sort of stuff up until Eda reaches over and snatches the can from his hand.
"More for me! See you later, Joshua! I'm off to get absolutely smashed and shoot something! Come along when you're less crippled!" Peng shouts something in Chinese as Eda sing songs her way out the door. You sigh as she slams the door behind her, leaving you with an angry Peng and no escape.
"As your doctor, I must tell you to not drink while you are still on painkillers. I accept that I never said as much, but there is a reason we don't allow intoxicants in the clinic. This mixture will make you much more drunk, much faster." Peng was still speaking, but you weren't really listening. All that rapid drinking was hitting you like a sledgehammer, and you seemed to be getting drunk at a much faster pace than the few times when you normally drink.
In the end, they had to have a nurse sit around to make sure you didn't do any drunken jackassery while no one was looking, since sedatives and alcohol were probably a pretty bad idea. After a few hours, you fell asleep under the irritated glare of the nurse. You wake up the next day with a moderate hangover, and an empty room. Which wasn't so bad with sunlight pouring into the room from the window. While you drain a glass of water and try to relax, you decide to plan out your next couple of weeks. So what are you going to spend your time doing?
[] Take stock of the city's drug trade
[] Become familiar with the factions of the city
[] Fuck it, relax and chat with the nurses. You deserve a break after this shit.
[] Write in
AN: So this is happening again. I couldn't really tell you why. Or for how long. So enjoy it, i guess. And I greatly encourage a write in for the first vote, because I had no idea what you would conceivably ask for in Roanapur for large amounts of cash. I'll veto it if Eda would refuse, so keep that in mind.
Anyway, I wanted to keep the serious consequences of your bad end, so you are now down a leg. Good thing you didn't go for a martial or intrigue character, huh?
