am Jenkins. 26, Ex-soldier, current auto-mechanic, general handyman what not. Looking for some quiet and ready to lend a hand. Yeah, the leg's prosthetic, and the scars are real. But so's the rest.
LOCATION: University Medical Center Hamburg-Eppendorf, Hamburg, Germany
GENERAL NOTES: Someday I will learn to write. That day is not yet upon us. Okay! Sammy in the hospital after being found/getting stitched up and his leg amputated, and the start of the events that landed him there in the first place.
Charging toward him, it's—not it, he, it's a he, and he's on fire, he's naked? The clothes have burned off. The skin’s burning off.
JENKINS, FUCK IT, ST—
Why English, why's he speaking English ain't he—
STOP DROP AND ROLL YOU DUMB ASS FUCKER
The it, the he drops alright, like a stone, face first and silent except for whistling shells, and the distance blurs and his own hands beat at flesh without a face anymore not much flesh left not, he can smell it and it sticks to his hands, flaking off sluggishly as the flames starve and are reborn in fat blisters, puss and bubbling up from skin like lava, bursting to burn again and they're still firing nine men, four left, Howler's got a piece of the truck through his eye, looks like a railroad spike, half his torso's gone, like great white shark took a bite and it smells like piss and vomit burning skin heat's closer and CRA—
It's his own shout that wakes him up this time, from sleep but not from horror, and he sees his hands first, white knuckled and shaking, curled like a claws around the shoulders of the uniform the nurse babbling at him in panic is wearing, and he thinks, simply, that she'll bruise and he's sorry for it, but the apology is lost in the waves red that have no name but shriek in his vision and someone else is pulling him off, and he instinctively tries to shift but there's nothing under him, it isn't there to support him—he can feel it, why isn't it there?—and they both fall, hitting the ground with a bang that rattles him, sends a tray skittering across tile like a metal bug, and he can still smell vomit and no surprise, it's there, he can see it on the white robe trying to steady him, but with it he can smell the rest, and he closes his eyes and doesn't recognize the growling, agonized howl as coming from his own throat, can't feel it vibrate against chords already raw, and the hands that grab him make his own skin set on fire, and he does recognize that yell as being his, and clamps down on it before it escapes because he can't, he can't—-
Sam, it’s the nurse. She's a nurse. Isn't she? She looks like one.
Well, I’m sure you won’t have any problems then. Most gossiping natives aren’t brave enough to ask you things in person. Though there may be the occasional one that does.
Nah, you’re fine. Trust me, I’ve seen quite a few people make a bad impression lately, and you aren’t one of them. How are you liking the town so far? My name’s Olive, by the way. You can call me Ollie if you’d like,
That’s very true. William can be rather tedious to say on a regular basis I suppose. Well aren’t you quite the funny guy. Ah, well believe me when I tell you the gossipers will eat that story up and spit out as many different ways their imaginations can create.
I’ll give you that one, ‘ol geezer. You need maturity to survive, I know, but that’s a different kind of maturity compared to one that would be used on a daily basis, when you’re off duty as a civilian, or retired — which, judging by your age, I’m assuming is more fitting. Last time I checked, you don’t need the mindset of a soldier to act grown. Oh, and the way I’m acting would not be classified as an “ass,” thank you very much.
Gosh, do you even know how to talk like a normal being? Ever heard of the new age’s slang? Even I know how to speak it. And, no, not mature. It just sounds as if the gramps had nothing better to do with his life. Maybe, he was a bit lonely, too.
Retired. Like the sound of it, we'll go with that. And fair enough. Won't classify you as an ass, s'long as you don't act like one. Got a name you prefer to be addressed by, then?
.
Ah, see, there you go. Gonna be hard not to call you an ass if you keep on spittin' shit out the wrong end like that.
And yeah. Maybe he was. Can't see why you'd care, seeing as it ain't got nothing to do with you one way or another.
That’s a bit much. I’m just someone who likes to do well, I guess.
It’s quite fun, honestly! I love reading my textbooks. I know it’s a bit peculiar and all, but when I learn something new, I just feel like it’s Christmas morning all over again!
Well it's....well it ain't peculiar. Different from me but I'm your standard dumb-as-an-ox army stock so you've got the better end of that stick, far as I can tell. Find somethin' your excited about and all, it's good. You study anything in particular or just, whatever strike you?
Oh, well, that sounds like it would have been a fun way to grow up and… All of that. I think the closest I’ve ever been to a farm is… Uh. A college campus.
Well, uh. I can share that view, anyways. But. I don’t think you have to worry about it here.
I go by Will. William’s cool too. Depends on what you fancy to call me more. I’m not picky. Just not Bill. Yeah, she probably baked her a casserole and everything. Busier than you expected? Well, you’re a fresh face so typically everyone’s going to be all up in your business until they get to know you and judge you properly.
I’m William, pleasure to meet you. Lucy. Hmm, I’ve heard of a Lucy. I’m sure my mom greeted her when she moved here. My mother tends to do that. But welcome to Florence.
Pleasure's mine, Will. You go by Will or the full of it? Your Ma sounds like she's got things right. I'm sure Luce was glad for it, so she's got my thanks.
And thanks. It's...busier than I expected. Nice, though.
Oh, you’re new, too? Well, I guess I’m not exactly new anymore, but… Welcome to Florence. You—uh. Missed the end of the fair, and there was a party, but. I’m sure you’ll—um. Still find yourself a nice welcoming committee.
titsay
yousharknotpass
kaledo-art
jacobvanloon
baratheonpilled
areudirty
snowghoul
