Animals and Organs {Edmund}

Edmund Simons hated the infirmary. The hate mostly came from the fear of needles, breathing masks, and getting strapped down. The whole month he had spent there because of the fire and then the few days that he was landed there because of his... incident. Fear from the fire month and then hate from his incident. Everyone had thought he was crazy, but they were the ones being crazy. No one would give him a straight answer. He subconsciously pulled his left sleeve down. After a few months after his arrival (just in time for actual summer) Ed stopped wearing long sleeves and was able to pass his left arm scars off as his "initiative training" marks. No one knew where they had come from. No one except him. And he was keeping it that way forever. The prominent burn marks that covered half the back of his legs were a bit harder to pass as nothing. Thankfully though, they were almost always covered by armor and/or long pants.

Truth be told, Ed hadn't faced the infirmary since coming into Camp for initial inspection. He had been so shaken up from Lupa and all the information they were giving him, that he hadn't exactly been in his right mind. Or maybe he had been freaking out and people just took it that he was shaken up from before mentioned. After that one time, he made sure to stay far away from it. It reminded him too much of the hospital. Whenever he had gotten hurt in training, he always just brushed it off. He probably had more scars than necessary because of it, but whatever. At least he wouldn't need to go into the torture chamber. Besides, if Campers went in for every wound they got while fight training, the infirmary would always be full. At any rate, Edmund didn't think that the infirmary took in minor fight wounds. Too many of those a day.

0800. Edmund stood outside of the infirmary, dreading going in. Kyoto nearly forced him here. It was probably either go in here, or get pulled from the ranks and fighting. He'd never hear the end of it from the Camp. He had to keep training to stay sane. His want to keep fighting landed at the entrance of the infirmary. Edmund swallowed slightly and stared at the door for what seemed like forever. He couldn't do this... couldn't do this. Not put himself willingly into this place. It was either walk away and potentially get pulled from fighting or suck it up, go in, internally freak out, and get it over with. Finally, he did the Roman thing. Before he could think it through anymore, he made all the emotion drop off his face even though he was close to hyperventilating, walked up to the door, and opened it. This was going to be a long morning.

OOC: Let the fun begin
IC: 498

From the moment he opened the door, Edmund knew that it was a mistake coming in here. The place might as well have had "trigger" written all over it. From the desk, to Kyoto's lab coat, to his file, to all the instruments hanging up along the wall. Even the smell. Nothing was more nauseating to him than a hospital's smell. It was all sticky and sweet and antiseptic and gross from only gods knew what. He was fine. He wasn't sick. He wasn't crazy. Sure, he got sick every once and a while, but that was to be expected here. Cold weather, hot weather, downed immune system from fighting all the time. His eyes darted around the room. Ed could and would stay calm... for the most part. He'd make himself stay calm, especially in front of Kyoto. Already though, his mind was jumping to: how long is this going to take?

His file was really skinny. As in: a folder and a sheet of paper skinny. "That'd be me," he muttered. Behind on his exams... he hadn't been when he was nine. That hospital had a folder full on him. He had probably gotten every childhood shot in existence. He gave him a wary look as Jason told him to follow and grudgingly did so: down a hallway and into torture room. Dejavu... The demigod boy gave his eyes a slight roll. Yeah yeah, cooperate. All Ed wanted was to get out, so he would. Just this once. His eyes briefly glimpsed the room 1A plate near the door frame before entering the room. Exam table, medical instruments. More triggers. Great. Ed felt himself tensing up slightly and he tried to relax, along with trying to avoid looking at all the instruments lined up along the wall and on the table. This place was too modern for this sort of place. Couldn't Jason just give him an ambrosia stick and call it a day?

Edmund quietly sat up on the table, still doing his best not to look at anything. He half shut his eyes as Jason turned around and the water started running. Quiet voices. Things he didn't understand when he was little: "It's completely destroyed and it's not coming back... yes, it's called a skin graft. Quite common with 3rd degree burn patients. No, no... that's not necessary. He'll keep his legs. He'll be able to walk and run eventually, but it needs surgery, time, and a lot of pain killers." His brown eyes flickered open almost mechanically. At least now he knew what they had been talking about. He had gotten the skin graft... and for years, he hated how his skin looked from it. Still did: all discolored and red from his normal skin. They made the burn look kind on Zuko's face. The real thing looked horrible and disgustingly ugly.

He just nodded as Jason ran down the to do list. Ed was dreading all of it. Evaluating his health in general and evaluating his health on accounts that he had been turned into animals. Double the time here or more. He swallowed slightly and started counting in his head. "Seven," he finally said, making his face blank and his voice drop into a monotone. "A boar piglet, jackalope, kitten, meercat, penguin chick, blood hound puppy, and red panda."

OOC: Awww lol xD
IC: 572

Gods turning Ed into animals was not helping their case. They were in bad standings as it was and all these animal transformations were just digging them into a deeper and deeper hole of dislike. The sixteen year old ground his teeth slightly. Potential internal damage. From getting turned into animals. He could see the logic in that. He just really, really hoped he didn't have any. As in... really, really, really, really hoped he didn't. He wasn't afraid of dying from internal damage. No. That would be what normal people were afraid of. Him? He was afraid of Jason coming at him with a scalpel and IV needle. Edmund half nodded. Demigod record for number of animal transformations. Kind of like in the book series Animorphs. Only he stayed in animal for hours (mostly 24 at a time) and couldn't change in and out of will. It was more like one man, one animal at a time, zoo. He gave a slight shrug, not exactly trusting himself to start talking. Maybe the gods were turning him to baby forms so he'd be more vulnerable. Things that would make people want to coddle, cuddle, and pet him; things that would make half the camp go "aww" and want to help him. Exactly the opposite of what Ed wanted.

Take off the shirt. Great. He was armorless and weaponless too. He caught most of what Jason was saying. The rest was lost. His brain was either choosing for him to have selective hearing or he was getting so worked up that he was actually staring to make himself zone out. It was just so he could see if pressing externally hurt anything internally. Not to put on the sticky pads for an EKG. Do it and he could go faster. Fair enough. He'd do it if it meant getting out of here, even though physical contact out of the training rink usually resulted in an attempt at him trying to amputate the offending hand. Ed took the long sleeved shirt off. It was the usual on his arms: SPQR, six bars, Vulcan's symbol, and then lots of scarring. At least his first, un-legion acquired scar could semi blend in. He had been lucky enough not to get hit fatally fatally in training. In part why he had never swung by the infirmary. Okay... maybe he had once... or twice, and had been able to narrowly avoid getting sent in. That was half the reason he fought so hard: to make sure he wouldn't get landed in the infirmary. Most of his accumulated training wounds weren't even considered serious enough for the sick bay. All the better for him.

At the mention of doctor patient confidentially, Edmund just gave an automatic head nod. That's what the other one had said too. It's what they all said. Just around the time that Ed gave up talking for nearly a year. It was almost kind of annoying. How Jason had dragged him here. Edmund's method had kind of been: "they told me to come, I didn't, didn't seem like they cared, they didn't hunt me down, so whatever. I don't have to go!" It had worked... until today that was. Exactly why being a selective mute would have been more effective. People hadn't started noticing him until he had started talking a bit more than usual. Now, all of the sudden, more people were taking an interest in him (some good, some bad, but interest none the less). Also the exact opposite of what he wanted.

OOC: Aww <3 *snuggles* It's okay
And I'm sorry... Ed's just... not talking >.>
IC: 610

Arm scars were usual at the Legion, right? Okay, maybe a chest and a slight stomach one not so much. They could have been treated with ambrosia, but Edmund (being Edmund) made it slide. So, instead of instant healing via a quick trip to the infirmary, Ed got a month of pains and a scar. At least he didn't need to go into the sick bay. It was what ever now, he was still standing, breathing, forging, and fighting, and that was all that mattered to him. Besides, none of his previously gained scars were going to help him or hurt him in this exam. None of them came from getting turned into an animal. Heck, he didn't think any of his scars did transfer into his animals. If they had... the animals would have probably had bald or discolored spots on their hind legs. Then came the actual exam. Ed semi moved away at the initial physical contact, but after that, made himself stay still. All he needed to do was keep breathing and not freak out... Breathe and don't freak out. It'll be over soon. Back to trying to convince himself of things.

Immediately after Jason was done, he backed off. Ed had to be kind of grateful for that. He let himself relax a centimeter in the "not going to be touched" again area. Edmund shook his head. He half opened his mouth, trusting himself to talk only in the slightest. "No," he grumbled, just to reiterate. Honestly, nothing had hurt. As Jason had said, it hadn't taken too long; except for his ribs... He heard Jason writing something down, but still tried to avoid looking at him and every other instrument in the room. Gods how this place terrified him. He knew it shouldn't have. He was a Roman for gods sakes. Getting a knife pointed at his chest or throat he could live though without as much as blinking, but the infirmary? It was like his first week in the forge all over again.

Ed's ears picked up the sound of a cabinet opening. So either Jason found something he didn't like, or he was getting... a mask... or...something... Most likely he found something that he didn't like. Whyyyyy?! Okay, so Ed knew he was acting like a complete little kid but he didn't care. He did not want to be here. Oh great. Stupid gods messed up his ribs. The ambrosia thing for two months he could handle. It was the second and third thing that he hated to think about. "I have to come back here..." he said tonelessly. Spectacular. And if it didn't go right... another surgery to replace something else in his body. Freaking fantastic. At least he wouldn't need to go through the skin graft process again. "Fine," he grumbled. Yeah... he was really hoping that ambrosia would be enough for the ribs too.

He gave a slight nod. Did he ever know "all that". The first time he woke up, they'd do the "normal check up" and change his bandages every like... five hours, even if that meant at 3 AM in the morning. They said he could get pneumonia or something like that. Nightmares, plus continuous beeping right near his head pretty much made him stay up, so it wasn't like he had any sense of time anyway. And off came the instruments on the walls. This was going to be fun. On normal circumstances, Edmund would have probably said something to Jason about his comment, but the only thing that was in character of him and that he was able to do was roll his eyes.

OOC: Possibility of making him feel more comfortable: .000000000001%
Make him have the surgery. (....I'm horrible to him ._.)
IC: 624

No more "potential things wrong with you because of all the animal transformations". SCORE. At least his organs hadn't been twisted or whatever Kyoto had been searching for. Bad news? His ribs. Now he had to wait two months in suspense: not knowing if he'd have to have another surgery or not. That was not going to be fun. At least the skin graft and arm stitches had been mandatory and quick. He didn't even know what had happened or why they had done it until it was over and he was back in the recovery room. At least Jason wasn't shooting jibes on how Edmund was being quieter, more cooperative, and a more subdued than usual. Maybe Ed wasn't the only one who semi freaked when the word "infirmary" was even mentioned. But him being the odd one out, he probably was. He hated people knowing his fears, especially since this was the Legion, but whatever. Everyone had a fear. He was no different. Ed knew the whole: conquer the fear before it conquers you spiel, but he didn't care. He was far, far, far from conquering his infirmary fear; he most certainly didn't see it happening today.

Edmund gave a slight nod. Well good. It wasn't like Charlie would excuse him from cohort training from a shrunken rib. Besides, he wouldn't want to stop training just because of that. He had fought through much worse. "Okay," Ed grumbled in a grudging agreement. At least they wouldn't need to do the check ups over. He still couldn't believe that the medical examiners before Jason would just let him walk without one. All the more reason to not like Jason. He had forced Ed to come here. The sixteen year old had been neglecting check ups and had been living fine without them for six years. Now, thanks to the freaking gods and him getting attention that he oh-so-despised, he was having a six years late visit. A slight scowl flashed across his face as Jason brought up the normal check up. Once again, cooperation to go faster. Fine by him. He remembered similar talk throughs from his month at the hospital. "I know what it is and what it does," he grumbled in a slight snap.

He tensed slightly as the cold metal disk touched his chest, but then listened to Jason's cues and breathed. At least it wasn't those sticky EKG stickers... they were so uncomfortable. Live with a smoker? Absolutely not. His parents never smoked... although he wasn't quite sure about Emalia. For the first time, Edmund blinked and was able to look at Jason in the eye, trying to ignore all the instruments on the wall and his lab coat. Previous exposure to smoke? How stupid could this son of Apollo get. "I spend half my time in the forge you idiot." He immediately dropped his gaze after. He was being accurate. He wasn't lying, but he was also withholding. The forge could count for the smoke, but so could his house fire. He had inhaled a lot of smoke there. As in... a really unhealthy amount. At least in the forge it was semi ventilated and kind of well tunneled out through the chimney systems. Emalia said he had been out for days and had never filled him in. All Ed remembered was waking up with an air mask which was the supposed "last stage" or whatever. What they had done to him while he was unconscious, he still had no idea.

OOC: It's a total myyyyyssssterrrryyyy o.o
Just For Info: While Ed was unconscious he had to have intubation.
Dear gods I'm being so mean to him tonight ._.
IC: 604

It was pretty much impossible for Edmund to forget the medical instruments and what they did unless someone gave him a memory wipe. Years of check ups as a kid and then hospitalization for a month pretty much engraved the names and functions into the boy's mind, even though hadn't been used for a while: stethoscope, sphygmomanometer (which he could never pronounce properly), otoscope, and plessor. Those were the simple check up instruments. Yep. All still there lurking in his brain, even though he'd love to forget them. At Jason backtracking and erasing the smoke being a problem in his lungs, Edmund slowly breathed out in semi relief. Thank the gods the son of Apollo bought that. This had to be the one and only time where he was semi okay with being "a child of Vulcan'": he could use the forge as an excuse for the smoke in his lungs. No further digging had to be done. It would be attributed to the obvious condition of the forge.

Out of his peripheral vision, Edmund saw Jason grab the blood pressure cuff. That was always next. "No," he said flatly, choosing to ignore (only this once) that Jason had called him out with a name. Then again, even if he had been himself, he probably wouldn't have done anything but glare. Besides, it wasn't endorsing; not worth wasting his breath. The offenders of calling him an endorsing name usually got Ed's "shut up" attitude. Ed watched Jason wrap the cuff around him warily. He tensed at first from the touch but then forced himself to relax. To distract himself from feeling the tightening around his arm (which reminded him of getting strapped to the bed), he reviewed in his head what he wouldn't say out loud: the correct medical term was a sphygmomanometer and it measured blood pressure; when he was ten years old, a healthy reading would be around 117/79. Jason didn't need to know that Ed knew the specifics.

It lasted so long. Edmund forced himself to keep breathing, barely able took at anything but the cuff and just waiting for it to be over. The cuff was finally removed and Ed could semi relax again. Actually breathe. Nothing restraining on his arm again. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement as Jason said that his blood pressure and heart rate were good. Well yippie. At least something about him, no matter how minor, was normal-ish. He didn't even know what normal was anymore. How could be? He was a demigod, surrounded by other demigods, in a camp, in California, with a world full of gods around him. Normal. Sure. No such word. Edmund gave another blank nod as Jason talked him through the end procedures. Ears and eyes. He wasn't going to enjoy that. Hammer to the knee? Fine. Go for it. He got hammered everywhere because of training. Metal object poking into his ear? Not as fine. It was going to receive that a bit less gracefully.

OOC: It was plenty <3
IC: 513

Edmund was probably the quieter type on principle. Add in the fact that he was in the infirmary... he was near untalkative. Other people would start talking more because of nerves, but not him. His nerves started out, he shut down. Ed had managed to live near a whole year in almost total silence, so the quietness didn't bother him. It kind of calmed his ADHD honestly. It was sound that would make him hyper active; it registered as too much activity and made it would feel like he had to some how react to everything. Yup, silence was better than noise in his book. His side vision picked up Jason taking the orthoscope down. He hated getting that thing rammed in his ears. He also didn't like seeing his own eye when the beam hit it. It was downright creepy.

Great. Of course Jason chose to do his ears first. Ed would rather see his eyeball than have something rammed into his ear. He flinched in the slightest when the instrument entered his ear, but then stayed still, waiting for it to be over. Wasn't that the case for everything that Jason had done to him thus far? After both ears were done, Jason didn't say that there was anything wrong. As a matter of fact, he said that they were healthy. Score. So far the normal check up procedure was going along with no complications. Ed voted it stay that way: uneventful. He gave a semi shrug; so far, nothing in the forge seemed to warrant him getting a hearing problem. In fact, the loudest things he had ever heard were probably his ceiling caving in, fireworks, or Charlie screaming at the cohort. Nothing that he could blame the forge for except being a semi relaxing technique.

Off went the disposable black cone. Eyes next. Before he could prepare himself, he had automatically looked up as Jason got closer to him. He caught a glimpse of all the medical instruments before being shot in the eye with the beam of light. It was over before he could be able to freak out, which was probably a good thing. He blinked automatically, the bright light creating a patch of darkness that started to drift away, only to come back as soon as he blinked again. Those things always annoyed him. They drove him crazy when someone took multiple pictures with the flash on. Ed semi nodded again as Jason said his eyes were good too. So, the only thing that was wrong with him was a shrunken rib. He was pretty sure that he'd get a good result on the reflex test. STUPID GODS.

He sat there, once again looking at his knees so he wouldn't have to see the wall of instruments. After a few seconds of Jason opening and closing cabinet doors, he heard that he had to get another one from a separate room. Retreating footsteps... and Edmund was alone in the room. Alone in an exam room. He started to slightly sway forwards and back; his started feet swinging like a little kid, lightly hitting the bottom of the bed. Alone in here.... Edmund glanced at the door. Oh the options... A) Trash the room B) Run out of this place C) Just sit here and wait like a good little patient. He weighed his options. A) Jason would probably try to kill him [besides, Ed couldn't look at the tools, much less handle them] B) They'd drag him back here and MAKE sure he couldn't leave [which would not help his situation or C) Wait here and risk panic attacking. In the end, Edmund chose C: trying not to hyperventilate, and still swaying, he waited for Jason to come back. It was probably better int he long run, anyway.

OOC: xDD Stupid Ed and his silence this post haha
IC: 644