never regret thy fall

angela ziegler | ind. priv. highly sel | penned by bones

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Angela Ziegler of Overwatch | Ind. Priv. Highly Sel. | Penned by Bones Stat

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There’s some divine humor in her predicament. Angela is able to recognize that much through the incessant pain in her shoulder, able to appreciate the humor in their roles reversed. How many times it’s been Jesse sheepish upon her table and clutching at some afflicted part of his anatomy, she’s lost count. After all of the times she’s poked, prodded, set, sutured, and stapled his wounds, she supposes it is at last her turn.

With all that in mind, she’s uncertain whether it’s a comfort or cause for concern that Jesse has been on the receiving end of her care as much as he has. Surely he’s learned from it, but judging by the reckless and irresponsible nature of his injuries, she has her doubts.

Strong hands take hold of her arm, warm through her suit. Angela knows what’s coming and on some level, the clinical ability to dissect the situation makes it worse. Mindful to keep from gritting her teeth she has nothing to muffle the pathetic little whimpers working their way up her throat as he manipulates the joint, arm raised to be level with her shoulder. 

And oh, the agony of it as her humerus courted her scapula is more than she’d guessed when tending to this very same injury in countless others. Eyes squeezed shut, tears brimming to cling to her lashes as she sucked in air through parted lips.

“Sc-cold away,” she urges, hitched breath disrupting her speech. “But, do it now. I’m re-ready.” 

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* // 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.   repost,  don’t  reblog.

tagged by: @courtclover tagging: @huntedalone, @mortiferre, @pcripeteiia

what do they SMELL like ?  

Typically, Angela smells of disinfectant with a suggestion of nitrile and institute standard soap/hand sanitizer. The scents are associated with her work and don’t linger when she hasn’t spent time in the lab or medbay, but rare is the day that she keeps solely to herself. Aside from this, she enjoys soaps with scents like chocolate and coffee and does in fact tend to take on the aroma of the coffee she brews for herself.

how do they SLEEP ?

Loose t-shirts or sweatshirts with shorts are her preference. More than once, however, she’s shuffled to her room and fallen into bed still in her day clothes.

what MUSIC do they enjoy ?

80′s pop and showtunes dominate her playlist and can often be heard issuing from her workspaces when appropriate.

how much time do they spend GETTING READY in the morning ?

Appearances matter. Each morning Angela takes the time to shower, apply a full face of makeup, and style her hair. She can be done in less than an hour.

what is their favourite thing to COLLECT ?

Vintage wines.

are they LEFT or RIGHT handed ?

Right handed.

what is their RELIGION ?

None. If there is a deity presiding over humanity, she’s got a few choice words for them should she ever meet them.

what is their favourite touristy thing to do when TRAVELING ?

Visiting the museums and historical locations. One can never learn too much about the world.

what is their favourite kind of WEATHER ?

Snow. Inconvenient, perhaps, but she likes to get all bundled up in warm clothes and feel the chill on her face. There’s even satisfaction in the almost painful tingle as she warms numbed appendages. On a poetic level, she adores a pristine, untouched blanket of snow, and watching it take on the imprint of the day as the hours pass.

what is a weird / obscure FEAR they have ?

Birds, especially x-rays and images of their skeletal structure.

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Yes, admittedly, he appears to be in good health. Low resting heart rate consistent with a vigorously active lifestyle. Respirations unlabored. Exemplary blood pressure. However.

“Everyone has a clean bill of health until they do not.”

Too often has Angela seen a patient in apparent peak physical condition receive a devastating diagnosis. Early detection is key in that sort of thing, and anyway, Clover should not be in the field without a physical clearing him for active duty. Whoever has been falsifying their assessment ought to receive correctional action from their superiors, she thinks, and she will be following up.

As for the Ace sitting on her exam table--

“I don’t believe removing your shirt will be necessary, but thank you for your enthusiasm.”

--he is not the first soldier to flirt with her as sanitary paper crinkles underneath him. Angela manages to press metal warmed between her hands to his chest just fine with his shirt on.

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Too quickly did Gabriel discard his own campaign for vigilance, when clearly it originated from very real, lingering concerns. Perhaps she’d been unkind in her dismissal. Only in hindsight, it seemed, did such a thing become apparent. Angela breathed a quiet sigh, stepping back from the rack of samples before her. They could wait a moment while she tended to the more pressing matter of the Blackwatch commander’s mental health.

“Forgive me. Caution is your job, Commander, and I’d no more diminish that then permit my own role to be dismissed.”

One after another she peeled nitrile gloves from her hands, discarding them on her way to the gleaming stainless steel sinks.

“Would you be so kind as to elaborate? What manner of... possibilities should I be conscious of?”

Hot water splashed dry clinician’s hands. Angela vigorously scrubbed at each crevice as though personally offended, standard issue soap a frothy lather upon her skin.

“And really--with scientific advancement such as it is, you might not want to speak so soon on robotic zebras. I don’t doubt there will be zoos full of inorganic recreations within our lifetimes.”

[phantomemes]

credit .

‘ the flowers in our common room keep dying ’ ‘ how many times do we say goodbye before we leave ? ’ ‘ not even seasons have the courtesy to stay till dawn ’ ‘ maybe it’d be easier if we call came with an instruction manual ’ ‘ i need an oil change every five years or else my heart stops ticking ’ ‘ how do you keep the monsters at bay ? ’ ‘ someone replaced my bones with broken glass ’ ‘ for now , i’d rather stay here ’ ‘ hold me like a sound ricocheting inside your bones ’ ‘ the moon is nothing but a hundred moths about to take flight ’ ‘ the night is a hundred different kinds of light ’ ‘ the aftertaste of a goodbye is the worst to get rid of ’ ‘ there is no finality in words ’ ‘ i can save myself just fine ’ ‘ time is falling through the holes in my pocket ’ ‘ there are so many things i want to say tonight ’ ‘ things tend to get to me so easily these days ’ ‘ winters have always been the loneliest days ’ ‘ i’m underneath a mountain of things that i can never take back ’ ‘ when i told you i loved you i meant it ’ ‘ i am a carcass of regrets and apologies ’ ‘ black and white , i am the one at fault ’ ‘ i needed to hurt you so that i could hurt myself in return ’ ‘ i’m sorry that the world always takes and never gives ’ ‘ i’m sorry that each day dies just to give birth to one that you already knew ’ ‘ i am only digging holes for myself to fall into ’ ‘ absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder ’ ‘ so many people have not handled you with care ’ ‘ burn all your bridges just so that you can build them again with thicker ropes ’ ‘ bury everything that you’ve ever said ’ ‘ i look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise ’ ‘ there’s nothing but light when i see you ’ ‘ i’ve been meaning to call you for days now ’ ‘ i want you to know that i believe in you ’ ‘ listen to all the warnings that your soul gives you ’ ‘ how many hearts do you hold in your own ? ’

[roenya]

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@courtclover​ sent: “Doctor, good to see you. How are you? I know how busy you are and I don’t want to take up most of your time so, I’m feeling pretty good. Why not we rush this along?” Clover offers her his most charming and gleaming of smiles.

Surely there was someone somewhere who would be taken with the Ace’s charm. Had to be, if at--a glance to his chart--the age of forty, he was still relying on flashing a smile and a few well-placed words to get out of seeing the doctor. Angela had not been so long out of medical practice that she’d never seen Clover Ebi as a patient, but it had been a while. In her absence, someone was clearly affording him undue leniency.

Angela echoed his smile with one of her own, mild in her amusement and entirely unimpressed.

“Nice try, Ebi. Look, you even came prepared. No sleeves.”

Kitten heels clicked against the gleaming floor as she moved away from the hardlight screen projecting his information. He looked to be in peak physical condition, but if his last several exams had been circumvented, she was disinclined to trust it. In her hands was a blood pressure cuff, the most benign of medical equipment, but still. She could understand his trepidation.

“Arm out.”

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@huntedalone​ sent: ❝ Tell me, if you can explain to me how to cut somebody in half, survivably- ❞

“You had to go and complicate matters. Are you sure you need them to survive it?”

But of course, Trevor came to her for help, and Angela would oblige. Thick tomes lay open on every available surface, some of them tended by the woman herself as she flicked through them, others seemingly searching themselves as pages fluttered back and forth.

“You’re not open to tricks involving mirrors and trick boxes, either?”

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@countrywestern​ sent: "Oh, SOMETHIN' definitely snapped. I've jus' been too 'fraid t'look and see WHAT IT WAS." Jesse knew he was about to be chained to a bed in the ICU, and he knew whatever made that horrific sound was about to determine for HOW LONG. He just didn't want to be the bearer of his own bad news. "Apparently, not all of us own a pair of ANGEL WINGS for jumpin' outta six story buildings."

“Stop talking.”

Sharp and abrupt, Angela never did have patience for how chatty Jesse became when he was injured. Noise proved that he wasn’t so far gone that he was confined to silence, she supposed, but still. There was always the fear that he would cause himself further injury.

And this was an impressive one. Hand over his chest to keep him still, the doctor poked and prodded her way down his body. Dust and debris coated the palm of her glove; it was better than blood.

“Do you feel this?”

With two fingers she pressed, further and further down his abdomen as she sought spinal injury.

“Wiggle your fingers and toes but do not move anything else.”

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huntedalone​:

“Y’know, it could be a nice change ‘a pace, for once,” he grumbled. “Don’t know any fool who likes getting beaten to shit– even for their mad witch friends.”

For the sake of making her point, Angela was willing to make a show of it. She was willing to round the counter with a demonstration of haste. She was willing to knit blonde brows together, big blue eyes wide with concern.

“Beaten to shit, you say? Oh, that’s awful. You must be so sore!”

Fretting hands took hold of his face, smoothed back his hair, moved him this way and that so that she could get a good look at him.

“Come to the back. I’ll doctor your welts and make you hot chocolate.”

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huntedalone​:

“Yeah, gorgeous– and deadly, I’m gonna have welts for the next week from that thing. But you weren’t gonna say that, were ya. Yer really somethin’ else, Doc.”

“Trevor darling, you wouldn’t be happy if you didn’t have some supernatural wound or another to show for your hard work. Do you really want me to coddle you? We can try it.”

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huntedalone​:

“Jesus fucking Christ–… Can you at least wait for me to leave before you start sexing up the crazy evil plants that tried to kill me?”

“No, I most certainly cannot. Do you see this stigma? It’s breathtaking! And the pollen, do you know how much I can do with all of this? You should have run ins with crazy evil plants more often.”

[cultivatedmemes]

The Adventure Zone Balance from Arc 3 Petals to the metal. feel free to change gender specific words, pronouns,  whatever you like to make it fit your muse better!

❝ [Name] is not dead! [Name] is eternal. ❞

❝ Yes, I leave the shells on them. Gives you stronger, sturdier teeth. Now get the hell out of my office. ❞

❝ Hey, did you like it when we kicked your ass down at the omaga-braga-mega-fran? ❞

❝ Listen, I don’t wanna talk about who blew who. We gotta go! ❞

❝ He’s big. He’s brick-shithouse big, and you’re like an oak shithouse. The rustic value is very charming. ❞

❝ No, you’re right. I fucked up. You’re right, I had one chance and I fucked it right up. ❞

❝ Hey, baby, I love your tendrils. Lemme see your pistils and stamen… ❞

❝ Just cause you found money in a bank doesn’t mean that you can just take it with you! ❞

❝What— why are we looting!? This isn’t a dungeon, people do business here!❞

❝ Okay. Climb my body. ❞

❝ Why didn’t you just do that before you pulled my pants off!? ❞

❝ I don’t have any need for money anymore. I have become unto a God. ❞

❝ Respect above all else- I protect those who can’t protect themselves… I respect justice. ❞

❝ It’s um, it’s illegal but it’s - it’s so exciting and I’m super good at it! ❞

❝ I wish I could give you lethal authority, but I am still sworn to uphold, well, the important laws. ❞

❝ People who need people are the luckiest people in the world. ❞

❝ What’s the going rate to join a gang? Is it a monthly thing, do I need to like pay up front? ❞

❝ I’ve got this fish, I don’t know if that helps. ❞

❝ Tell me, if you can explain to me how you cut somebody in half, survivably- ❞

❝ How about you take an extra-dimensional shovel and dig a fucking hole? How about that? That’s an option, lazy bones. ❞

❝ Not killing is really hard, how does Batman do it? ❞

❝ I may not be the most threatening silhouette, but I like to think of myself as somebody who can stand up for- ❞

❝ You know? You know not everything has to be a joke. Sometimes you just be honest about your feelings ❞

❝ I’m travelling around with the boner squad, and I never get to just say what I’m feeling. I have emotions! I have a beating heart! FUCK! ❞

❝ No. You can’t. Don’t. Please don’t. Burn your computer. ❞

❝ This is like a case of hearing hoof beats and thinking robotic zebra. What are you talking about? ❞

❝ Of course, what am I saying? Danger is nothing between friends. ❞

❝ I don’t know her like this. Maybe I never… maybe I never really knew her. ❞

❝ Don’t let this happen again. ❞

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@countrywestern​ sent: "Well, I got tazed. That was fun. Other than that, I'd consider th'trip pretty uneventful." ;; --- o:

A year or two ago, perhaps, Angela may have considered tazing to be serious enough to constitute an eventful trip. It would have been cause for concern, even. Would have warranted an impromptu assessment, clinician’s hands gliding over the bloody little holes the prongs would leave and sharp eyes narrowed as she pressed two fingers to the faithful thrumming at his wrist.

That was when she was accustomed only to the sanitized, gleaming interior of a world renowned medical facility, where personnel stood at the ready and supplies were always close at hand. Reality turned out to be messier, filthier, and overall more chaotic than that. Jesse was tazed today, and Angela could muster only lukewarm disapproval to turn upon the man seated on her examination table.

“Right. Shirt unbuttoned, then, if you please. Are you experiencing any chest pain or tightness, nausea, shortness of breath, or feelings of your heart racing or skipping a beat?”

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@countrywestern​ sent: "Reckon you already know this, but it's definitely dislocated." And it was BAD too. There was a pause, Jesse waiting to see if the doctor would come to her own terms before taking a shot at offering his, "We can do this NOW, or you can sit there looking miserable for another two hours."

Yes, Angela was aware.

She was well aware that her humerus and scapula seemed to be on a break from one another. Moving her shoulder was out of the question--her entire right arm was out of commission, no cooperation whatsoever in the sickly swinging limb at her side. Platinum strands were plastered to her forehead with sweat, teeth bared in an attempt to endure as she held it as stable as she could.

Which, on a moving airship, was not very.

A great shudder worked its way through her. Nausea curled its way up her throat. Angela gave a curt nod and instantly regretted it as her head spun.

Maybe she was rethinking all of the times she’d been short with men writhing on the battlefield, clutching at their dislocated limbs.

“You’ll have to help me put it in a sling after.”

Angela swallowed hard, trying to work her voice more clearly through a dry throat.

“I am going to call you names. I am sorry.”

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@huntedalone​ sent: “My nose’s broken.”

Perhaps the quiet disapproval in the even stare she affixed upon him said enough, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave it at that. With delicate hands she cupped his face, pulling him down to her level in order to examine the injury more closely. Blonde brows knitted together at the sight of the bruising already discoloring the bridge of his nose, the rest of it concealed beneath a dirty, bloodstained rag.

“Clearly. Now, you’re going to sit here, be still, and let me fix it.”