Feb. 16th, 2017

video

Feb. 16th, 2017 09:04 am
blackbirdsing: (đź’• 62)
[personal profile] blackbirdsing
[ Sarah's lounging in bed, hair up in a ponytail, and she doesn't have much to say except: ]

Why are there no old people here? You know, like...I'm going to go out on a limb and say I definitely haven't seen anyone over 60. And I'm talking visually. Don't be a smart ass and tell me you're over 1,000, I get it, some of you are immortal or magic or...whatever. I'm just saying, no one appears to be over the age of, I don't know, post mid-life crisis.

I wonder why that would be? Wonderland has a youthful aesthetic to maintain? If you're over, say, 65 in human years, raise your hand.
nascensibility: REALITY IS AN ILLUSION (THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM)
[personal profile] nascensibility
[There comes a time in a woman’s life when she hopes to not come across bodies as often as she has in the past. A sentiment such as this may constitute as strange and unusual when the woman in question is an archaeologist who encounters bodies with frequency in her work, but those bodies tend to be 1.) dead, 2.) thousands of years old, and 3.) unmistakably mummified. Evelyn’s experiences with finding bodies in Wonderland is that they are only sometimes dead, very young by comparison, and do not resemble the human equivalent of a prune.

Still - it would be kind of this place to afflict her with recent corpses and the indisposed less often, because psychology textbooks from the future claim that stress is a dangerous incapacitator. If Wonderland could manage this sooner rather than later, it would be ideal.
]

Oh, God.

[An early afternoon walk through the orchards, branches covered in a dusting of snow, the same crunching underfoot and she sees a child lying supine next to the base of a tree. Evelyn immediately thinks of the young man she once found in the library, of Steve Rogers sprawled on the beach and bleeding out, of Philip pocked with knife wounds and she stumbles over to cup a cold cheek, falling to her knees at the girl’s side. She’s soaked to the skin.

Ellie.

Panic claws at her insides when she falls back on what little medical expertise a doctor once gave her and she feels for a pulse, sensing nothing and fumbling for her communicator to tap out a network-wide missive. Send out a call for help first, echos a soft voice in her head, unwelcome but not wrong, and begin cardiopulmonary resuscitation - if there was one thing that Hannibal Lecter taught her, it was how to manage first response.
]

I NEED ANYONE WITH LEGITIMATE MEDICAL EXPERTISE OR PEDIATRIC EXPERIENCE TO MEET ME IN THE CLINIC IMMEDIATELY

[Immediately following the message she sends one to Joel Miller while her fingers shake.]

found ellie need your help north edge of orchards

[Evelyn drops her phone, opens Ellie’s airway, and begins the emergency procedure.]

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