Guild icon
ROLEPLAY HQ
šŸ“¬ 1:1 Roleplay (D-E) / emergency-contact
Triggers: mental health issues, blood, death, suicide
Avatar
Deleted User 4/7/2024 5:47ā€ÆAM
Most hospitals only employ one Psychiatrist at a time, and Dr Rey Ivanov had been at this specific hospital for a long time. He'd been here through two executive changes, possibly hundreds of nurses and thousands of patients - to the point of where he barely knew the names of the people who kept zipping around the general area of the ER. That's why name tags were there, he supposed. How someone was supposed to remember each name and face, in such a high speed environment, he had no idea. But every now and then a nurse would stick their head into the room and ask for his 'professional opinion', effectively disrupting the paperwork routine he had. He'd give a thin lipped smile and gather up his binder, scurrying down the hallways and feeling exactly like all the other doctors there. His routine was jeopardized may times a day, and most of the time he didn't mind. He didn't have a short temper by any means, nor was he easily irritable. He could always find it in him to smile and nod and even push out a little small talk every now and then, awkwardly. But at the heart of it, he was just a very quiet man who didn't like to be bothered thirty-seven times every hour to do check ups. Occasionally he felt like the harbinger of bad news when he wandered the halls of the hospital: "Oh, who brought Bones to the children's ward." Thanks, Pediatrics... He intimidated kids, maybe he needed a career redirection. Standing a good head taller then most of the other people around him, he was already what someone might describe as a 'looming threat'. Pale skin, thin, and 'lanky' (as someone once called him), he was a little skeletal. Maybe not as thin but the 'bones energy' did radiate off of him. The patches of white on his hairline did not help at all though. Tall, thin, premature greying, just what he needed as a Psychiatrist. But he always did his best: Hold a patients hand in the ER, gently let someone down from their delusions, book a follow up in the psych ward, sit with someone in the waiting room, accompany a session of art therapy, and wind it all up back in his little office taking notes upon notes upon notes. Although the day-by-day of the hospital was immensely busy, he found time in the cafeteria over lunch to brief himself on some of the check-in's he had to do. Flicking through his binders, he was once again approached by a nurse who delivered him more paperwork and gave him a room number. Already irate from his interruption during lunch, he gathered his pieces and began making his way towards the room given, 302 in Recovery. It was when he opened the binder to a heart-wrenchingly disfigured face, plastered on a young woman who likely had a whole life ahead of her to enjoy... Thirty-Seven hours in surgery? What did they even do for the woman? Moreso... What was he supposed to say to her now. Of course, he wasn't a surgeon, let alone a trauma surgeon, so he had to get some clarification as to why she was in such bad shape after such a long time in surgery. Marching down to the ward he stuck out as usual, but his strides were wider then usual as well - while he was horrified at the state of the patient and had plenty of questions, it was the name of the leading surgeon which had him almost eager to interrogate. He didn't have issues with anyone else except her... It wasn't just her work though: Perhaps the way she didn't smile back at him (as if she saw through the niceness he gave his coworkers), or perhaps it was the fact he felt like she rushed him when it came to patient follow-ups (he unwaveringly refused to sign off on second procedures too near to the last one, for high-risk patients), whatever it was, he felt like it was trying to get through to a brick wall. He turned up at the ward reception and the nurses there stared at him. "Can I get Doctor Harlow, please?"
5:47ā€ÆAM
@Taiga On The Shelf 🐅
Avatar
Taiga On The Shelf šŸ… 4/9/2024 6:26ā€ÆAM
The moments preceding a trauma were often marked by silence and tranquility in the emergency room. Despite this, there was an underlying sense of urgency, evident in the hushed conversations and sporadic beeps of monitors that filled the air. Soft overhead lights bathed the worn linoleum floors in a sterile glow, while nurses in muted scrubs moved with efficient grace. Amidst this controlled chaos, medical professionals executed a silent ballet of urgency, with doctors conferring in corners, their expressions a blend of concern and determination. Patients, clad in pale blue hospital gowns, occupied stark white beds with a quiet resilience, their eyes reflecting a mix of fear and hope. It seemed as though nothing could disturb the smoothly running mechanism of the emergency room. However, the tranquility was shattered by the sudden bang of opening doors as ambulance personnel wheeled in a gurney, their urgent voices detailing the cause of injury and the patient's vital signs. Upon the gurney lay an unconscious female, her abdomen marred by a gaping wound and her body adorned with cuts and bruises. Another soul, driven to the brink of despair, had attempted to end their suffering by leaping in front of a train. But fate had intervened, and it wasn't yet her time to depart. Standing over her was Katherine, clad in civilian attireā€”a black leather jacket, skinny jeans, and boots. Her arms were streaked with blood, yet she continued to press steadily on the female's chest. Glancing at the rectangular screen displaying the timeā€”5:58 amā€”Katherine realized her shift was due to start in a mere two minutes. Her usual routine of savoring a cup of coffee by the ambulance bay, listening to the quiet rustle of impending storms, was abruptly interrupted by the piercing wail of sirens. The sound was an ominous harbinger, signaling the imminent arrival of a life-threatening situation. Sirens were kept blaring until the ambulance reached the bayā€”a signal that someone's life hung in the balance. It propelled Katherine forward, urging her to be the first to respond. As the ambulance doors swung open and the EMT pushed the stretcher carrying the patient outside, Katherine was already at the scene, her determination unwavering. She was determined to grant this female a second chance at life. Everyone deserved a second chance. ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ The OR always felt like another world, where only the patient and the surgeonā€™s skills mattered. Here, time seemed to both stretch and compress, depending on the urgency of the situation. Only the need to keep the patient alive was of importance. During countless hours, Katherine gave her all, her movements precise and deliberate as she worked to repair the damage inflicted by the train accident. Every incision, every suture was executed with skill and determination, a testament to her need to keep a young woman alive, who didnā€™t know any better and was simply someone who needed help. The room was filled with the sound of beeping monitors, the hum of machinery, and the muffled voices of the surgical team as they came up with their next steps.
6:27ā€ÆAM
Although Katherine was swapped in and out of the surgery, giving her a few hours of rest before returning to the battle, by the time they had to stop the surgery, exhaustion rolled over her. They managed to repair most of the damage, but it was clear they would have to do a second surgery soon. It was too dangerous to continue the surgery without risking a heart attack in the patient. But first, the patient had to wake up, as even if most of the damage was repaired, there was no guarantee the person itself was still there. Katherine sat on the floor in one of the corridors by the OR area, her head hanging down and her surgical cap in her hands. She was way past the point of wanting to sleep or eat, she was in a state that was hard to describe, close to being on autopilot. Her red hair was sticking out of her messy bun, and her mascara left even darker circles under her eyes, yet the spark in her blue eyes never vanished. She kept telling herself she just needed a few more minutes before heading in for the last hours of her 48-hour shift. There wasnā€™t much left to do, and it wasnā€™t likely she would be called into surgery again, as she had already worked overtime inside an OR according to the hospital policy. But the universe surely had a vendetta against her as she was paged to the patient she had just operated on by none other than Dr. Ivanov. He always loomed in the corridors with a polite smile plastered on his lips, perfectly styled hair that always stayed in place, and a strong opinion on someoneā€™s work. Katherine was sure that man never experienced any hardships in his life, probably someone who got the golden ticket to one of the best universities in the country and ended up as a psychiatristā€”someone telling people how to live their life. Katherine wasnā€™t someone who was easily intimidated by men like him, unlike others who even talked about respecting Dr. Ivanov. She made a quick stop by the bathroom, fixing her messy bun and wiping some of the mascara under her eyes away. Looking into the mirror, she could see her exhaustion, but she was determined to appear fresh in front of her worst nemesis. With a raised chin and her usual mask of indifference, she headed to face whatever opinions or accusations Dr. Ivanov may have. Soon enough, she reached the patientā€™s room, Dr. Ivanov standing by the nurses' station with his back facing Katherine. It wasnā€™t hard to recognize him, he was at least a head taller than anyone. With a deep breath, she took a big step to the nurses' station, already grabbing the female patientā€™s chart and looking through her latest testing results. Standing right by Dr. Ivanovā€™s back, she didnā€™t care about startling him, her voice loud and clear with a rasp in it. ā€œSo, Dr. Ivanov. What is it you needed me for?ā€
6:27ā€ÆAM
@Deleted User
Avatar
Deleted User 4/9/2024 2:00ā€ÆPM
He twiddled his pen between his fingers while he waited for Harlow, while the nurses gathered the updated notes on the patient, some post-dressing images in her bandages he'd not seen yet, and a few of the recovery on her chest and left arm. The nurses eyed him awkwardly - they likely knew of how much tension there was between the Dr Harlow and himself. Practically every trip he had there was to be mildly antagonistic. But he couldn't help it, when the other trauma surgeons came into the room they were at lease nice. Maybe if he was honest with himself he called carrying the conversations, 'nice'. She didn't beat around the bush, had an intensity to her which he felt frustrated by. It started months back now, with another patient who had made their way out of trauma and into his office. ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ It was always harder with a mentally ill patient, had they come in sooner they never would have been in this place. But he understands the desire to not get help. He hadn't gotten much of it when he had been more troubled, so he had a sympathy for those who ended up making it out the other end. In his opinion though, it always felt like the damn trauma doctors never made it any better. Imagine coming out of a traumatic situation to still look like they did when they came in, just not dead. This first patient that solidified his opinion of Dr Harlow had sat opposite him, crying because their scars were too bad even for the talented doctors of plastics. Some emergency butterfly stapling had been done across the patients shoulder and neck - and had healed brutally. Sure, Rey understands the 'emergency' part of emergency stapling, but the patient didn't! They only knew they were scarred for life. She could at least have tried anything else - because the patient may have died but how could he convince them that they wanted to live again when they looked like this. Maybe mentally ill patients were his softest spot - but it had been car accident patients, who's husbands had left them and taken the kids, because she didn't look 'how she did before'. Someone mauled by a coyote while taking a hike who's face had been reconstructed using their thigh skin (because it was the only part of the body which was pristine enough after trauma repair) who was never going to have lips again. A chemical overdose that required the emergency amputation of both legs. That one was especially hurtful - and he did know why but would never address it. In fact, it was the only patient who he hadn't come running to the Trauma Ward to snap at Harlow about. The patient had rolled into his office... and he hadn't a thing to say anymore. Life was hard and sometimes he felt like a rushed job in the emergency room made it worse. Yes, he was aware she wasn't actually 'rushing', she was under the time pressure of someone dying - but god it irritated him that every time he brought it up, with as much grace as he could muster, she didn't see his perspective. ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜
2:00ā€ÆPM
He turned to look at her and his stomach rumbled... all this amidst his lunch break. "Hello, Dr. Harlow." He said, stepping away from the nurses station a little to give them an air-buffer from the snapping he was about to do. "This was your work?" He whipped out the image of the patient post-dressing which annoyed him most, her face was completely covered in many many layers of bandaging, as well as her neck and chest area. Visualizing the image he had seen post arriving to take the patients updated notes from the nurses. The one where she still looked horribly mangled. He didn't show it to her, he wanted to know how she would describe the damage under the bandages. "So, thirty-plus hours in the OR, and I'm a little curious to know what's under here - seeing as that I'll be seeing her when she wakes up. Or rather if she wakes up. Well, if you spent that long in there, I'm sure you're hoping she is in as fit condition as possible. It can be hard for patients when they're under for so long... she needs something good to wake up to." He did have a tendency to talk in long bulks, not giving her a chance to respond until he was done. The way he spoke let her know he did already know what under the bandages was like, and that he wasn't genuinely curious. He never really understood why she always had this incredulous expression on her face when they spoke. As if she could not believe he was criticizing her again. He was sure she looked down on him and it frustrated him. But then again - he looked down on her. But how could she? She knew nothing about him about who he was. He felt like she didn't even give him a fair chance. She seemed to look through him like paper sometimes. Realistically by the time she had come to the hospital all the staff who did know him had moved on. He had been friends with a few others there, but between the past eight years so many didn't even contact him anymore. Katherine Harlow was new to his routine, in the grand scheme of things. His next question pertained to the patients second surgery. He was sure eventually something was going to slip into his office with a sign off sheet. Stating she needed a second surgery, and a follow up with plastics. He knew realistically Dr Harlow did the best she could, that she was talented, and sure of her own work. But damn, he had absolutely no trust that it would work out. Considering that he spent the better part of his sessions convincing patients they weren't going to die in surgery number two, he was always very thorough before signing off. (edited)
2:02ā€ÆPM
@Taiga On The Shelf 🐅
Avatar
Taiga On The Shelf šŸ… 4/11/2024 8:17ā€ÆAM
Katherine was still looking through the newest test results as Dr. Ivanov turned around. She could feel how the energy around them shifted, the pressure of his height looming over her. The letters and numbers on the paper in her hands were blurred, she couldnā€™t quite focus her eyesight after the long hours in an OR. But the absence of any highlighted lines gave her a sense of calm - for now everything was as good as it could be and the female had a chance of surviving this horror. The snark in Dr. Ivanovā€™s voice, waving an image in his hand like a flag, didnā€™t escape Katherineā€™s attention. She wished she could ignore him longer but at one point she had to confront him. Looking over at him solidified the feeling of unease in her, somehow taking in his height always took her breath away even if she didnā€™t show it. But she wasnā€™t someone who would stand around and allow a man, or should she say a giant, criticize her work without reason. Her blue eyes snapped at him, as she leaned onto the nurse's station, pushing herself up just a little bit more to appear taller than she was. ā€œYes, I was the leading surgeon,ā€ she tried to respond as politely as possible, but there was a tone of anger already forming behind her voice. ā€œBut there was also a group of excellent surgeons by my side. It was outstanding teamworkā€¦ something you donā€™t seem to acknowledge.ā€ The last bit of her sentence was added with a particular hiss behind it. Every time Dr. Ivanov would show up for one of the patients they shared, he only ever made Katherine responsible for everything happening to the patient. Katherine suspected that he thought just because her name was the first in a patientā€™s chart, that she also was the only one operating on the patient. She may be a trauma surgeon, but she never was someone who performed meticulous procedures on a heart or a brain. Seems like Dr. Lasley wouldnā€™t get any credit for fixing the punctured heart of the patient. Katherine had a growing need to defend herself the more Dr. Ivanov spoke. Every time he accentuated words in his baritone voice, it felt as if Katherine was slapped in the face. The burning rage was growing inside of her but every time she took a breath to finally talk back, he started yet another sentence and she couldnā€™t interrupt him. In the end, she gave up livening herself to talk, and it was even more frustrating to her when she finally got the chance to talk and she wasnā€™t ready. But she wasnā€™t about to back down and with a big breath, she prepared herself to tell him how wrong his assessment was. ā€œDr. Ivanov,ā€ Katherine couldnā€™t say his name with any more poison laced to it. ā€œHow many times do I have to repeat myself that surgery isnā€™t some kind of magical ritual? The patient isnā€™t some kind of lizard growing skin and tissue on the spot. We did everything as best as we could with the resources we had.ā€ Katherine was noticeably raising her voice, the tips of her ears turning as red as her hair held back in a messy bun. She was participating in a surgery for more than 20 hours with just a few pauses for a few hours in between. Her feet were aching, as was her neck and she was sure she needed a shower. But she had to stand in front of a snobby male, who had no idea what it took to be a surgeon, criticizing her work, implying her work wasnā€™t good enough. ā€œThe patient will have a life to wake up to. That is the best I can offer,ā€ Katherine was holding the pen she used for the chart before, pointing it towards Dr. Ivanov to really bring her point across. ā€œThe patient coded two times during the surgery. Even if we wanted to correct all the defects in one go, she wouldnā€™t make it. And Iā€™m not Victor Frankenstein putting together some undead creature.ā€
8:18ā€ÆAM
With that, Katherine closed the chart in front of her with a loud bang before turning around on her heels to leave. But she couldnā€™t leave before delivering the last blow. Within a quick movement, she was standing in front of him again, her neck tilted back in a weird angle just to be able to see him, her finger pointing more at the bottom of his ribs than his chest. ā€œYou donā€™t have any right to criticize my work or the work of my other colleagues after having a good night's sleep, drinking your morning coffee while reading The Lancet and spending an hour making sure your hair stays in place. Deal with your ego someplace else and donā€™t make saving lives any harder.ā€ And with that, Katherine finally turned to walk away in the longest strides she could possibly do. Her hand reached up to her bun, untying it and letting her dyed red hair fall to the middle of her back. She was done taking any critique from a mediocre male with narcissistic tendencies.
8:18ā€ÆAM
@Deleted User
Avatar
Deleted User 4/11/2024 2:13ā€ÆPM
Rey's face doesn't even seem to change, not even the squint of an eye as she responds to him. He was surprised at how she snapped back a little harder then usual - she usually had a level-headedness about her which disarmed him, seeing as she never wanted to engage in spats. He wasn't ever looking for spats, but he did usually seek some kind of awkward medical back-and forth, where they both pretended it wasn't just that they couldn't stand one another. He supposes the hours in surgery and the fact that maybe she was at the end of the line when it came to him hunting her down to question her were in play here. She was tired of it. The thing was, he didn't feel like she needed praise regarding her work. She did her work, and she did it good, so why should he wrap his criticism in a glaze of praise and compliments before delivering it to her. Maybe it was the way he was taught to relay information, by his family growing up, but there wasn't time for introspection in this moment because she was turning to leave. He would have said something but he had no right to interrupt, he did know that much. She relays the complications to him and he feels frustrated, not because he doesn't think she did her best, or that her team were not as skilled as they surely were; but frustrated because her perspective on what a patient needs was considerably different. These people will never live life to the fullest again. They will always be haunted by the fact they once struggled and were vulnerable. Not to mention how superficial humans were, how badly they wanted to fit in and be included in the masses. This phase after the storm, after the surgeries, that what what he saw as most important. He understood the trauma team were important to keeping someone alive, yes. But it was the fact time and time again when he sought understanding as to why a patient could be allowed to see themselves in this state... that was what frustrated him. Perhaps if this patient was not required to wake before second surgeries, he would have less of an issue. But clearly the Head Executive knew she would be waking, because she had been booked in with him before surgery two. He knew the patient would see herself in the mirror, wrapped in bandages, understanding that something was so deeply wrong with her, outside of what was in her head. But alas, according to the sign offs, surgeons could not proceed unless she made a mental recovery, and sign of brain injuries were non-occurrent. The chance she would get repaired by the coroner, not the trauma staff was hovering present in the air around him. And honestly, these clashes came down to perspective, in his mind. He didn't have issue with her skills, he knew she could fully repair patients, and he knew she did her best here. He just found deep issue with where their priorities lie. He felt this way about most trauma surgeons, that the 'alive' part of the patient was more important then the 'living'. It's just there was something about how she looked at him and treated him that made him want to make it her problem. Especially as she turned and snapped at him, her venom seeping into criticism about his personal life. As she made her mark, regarding his sleep and his hair, even he was taken aback. His eyes widened, a surprised expression, and a surprising sight. He watched her try to step away after that, yet his legs were far longer then hers, and his strides far wider. He overtook her in his pace and got in the way of her triumphant exit. He almost seemed to lean down, leveling himself with her in a way which allowed him to truly tower over her. His frustration was clear on his face in that moment, as he didn't hesitate to get in her face (which he didn't usually do - he liked to keep his snapping at an arms length away). (edited)
2:13ā€ÆPM
"Excuse me." He started, feeling equally venomous. Had she hit a soft spot? He was perplexed because he always keeps her personal comings and going's out of it. It was something he learned to do, as he knew people hurt inside more then they let out. He was a psychiatrist after all. "Katherine. I do not criticize your work. I criticize your outlook, your priorities. I do not sleep well at night because I come to work and I too, save lives. It is hard, you know that full well because to you, it seems you think you're the only one doing the saving." He leaned back a little, knowing he was perhaps too close and not usually this confrontational. "Whether I use spray or gel for my hair, or if I get to drink my coffee with the paper is no concern of you, if I come into work each day and stop people from taking their own lives after they've been brutalized in surgery and forced to look at themselves each day of the week. Hear me clearly, Dr Harlow. I do not criticize your skill, nor your teams skill. I am not a surgeon, but no doctor who could fathom the damage that patients go through when they see themselves in these states would ever sign off on letting them wake up to see it. You are a smart woman, I don't need to tell you that, you are highly respected in what you do - so understand that your work is not a stand alone scripture." He fully retreated from standing close to her, straightening out and pushing his glasses up his nose, they tended to slide down the bump there when he was bent down. "Ever since I first brought this up when you arrived, with far more grace I have gotten that same recital that ā€˜the patient is aliveā€™. It isnā€™t only you, itā€™s the song amongst the trauma ward and I am not willing to let it breeze over. You are influential in your ward, and the most skilled at what you do - Yet, If this truly is the best that you can do, sure. I concede, but the work you do is microscopic compared to what will need to be done for her when she wakes up. Address this perspective. That is what I want - and maybe patients will stop being stapled instead of sutured, or someone will still have legs, or they'll have a life to go back to." He steps a healthy way back, his expression returning to his usual serious but pleasant one. There was some underlying sadness to it though - and of course there was the outlier in what he said... He'd brought up the double amputee from seven months ago. He never had before. "I will be in my office, I am not signing off on surgery two after she awakes. I may consider it before." He begins his own strides away. (edited)
2:13ā€ÆPM
@Taiga On The Shelf 🐅
Avatar
Taiga On The Shelf šŸ… 5/13/2024 4:05ā€ÆAM
Katherine was convinced that she had finally managed to get away from the man she couldnā€™t stand. She felt frustrated to be scolded like a child for her work; in her head, she might have been called careless as well. But how could she have been careless if she dedicated herself fully to saving the patient's life? She worked tirelessly to keep their heart beating, no matter how fragile the blood vessels were, which threatened to leak again despite being patched over and over. It was a miracle the patient was still alive when she arrived at the hospital; almost no one survived being hit by a rushing train. Fully immersed in her thoughts, Katherine noticed an obstacle right in front of her too late: she walked into Dr. Ivanov's body with full force. This was how it must have felt to collide with a train. With a curse escaping her lips, Katherine jumped back, her stance clearly ready to fight back. She had a burning urge to push Dr. Ivanov back and tell him everything she thought about him. ā€œWhat the hell do you want!ā€ Katherine exploded back at him, a small wave of embarrassment washing over her as she realized she had walked into him. Yet, the rage overshadowed it as she couldnā€™t believe he would do something like that. His words met her with a new force, unlike before. She clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white, squinting at him with her icy blue eyes filled with anger. Katherine wanted to fight back, to catch onto every word he said and tell him he had no idea what the actual reality looked like. It wasn't possible to spare patients any pain; there was always something lost during a trauma surgery. It was the price for keeping someone alive.
4:05ā€ÆAM
She took a big breath to answer his accusations, but any air was punched out of her lungs as he continued to speak. Brutalized. He said that she brutalized her patients in surgery, and suddenly she couldn't help but feel small and weak. All of the lives she had saved were nothing more than brutalized. His words rang in her ears, the dizziness of exhaustion growing larger. And even when she thought she had taken the last blow already, she was destroyed to the ground with the next. His mention of a double amputee hit even harder. Katherine had pushed this case to the back of her mind, focusing on the next cases and trying not to lose herself in running that one surgery in her mind over and over again. But Dr. Ivanov had to mention it, forcing Katherine to confront the reality once again. It happened months ago on a relatively quiet night. Katherine had another few hours of her shift left, which ended by sunrise. She was filling out charts in the emergency room, where the only sounds were the quiet humming of some of the vital monitors. Not much had happened that night except for a few tummy aches and a heart attack which was quickly dealt with by one of the on-call cardio surgeons. Katherine was already thinking about where she would go for breakfast and was looking forward to the end of her day, as she had the next two days off. But fate had other plans, and the quiet night was disturbed by the ringing phone. A car crash had happened on the highway, and a male in critical condition was being rushed to the hospital. The whole emergency surgery that followed was nothing less than a bloody mess. The patient was the driver who had swerved off the highway into a stone wall, crushing everything below his waist. The scene was chaotic, with blood staining everyoneā€™s scrubs and the harsh glare of the surgical lights casting long shadows across the operating room. Every second counted as Katherine and her attending battled to stabilize the patientā€™s condition.
4:05ā€ÆAM
And Katherine couldnā€™t stop being thrown back to the night in her youth when she tried to stop her friend from bleeding out with her bare hands with no idea how to do it right. But despite their best efforts, there was no choice but to amputate the manā€™s legs. He would bleed out sooner than they could repair the damage. They had to focus on saving his life. It was a difficult choice, one that weighed heavily in the surgery room, but Katherine didnā€™t hesitate once - her friend, who had similar injuries, was on her mind. Life was always the choice before death. The surgery was a success in terms of preserving the patientā€™s life, but the emotional toll it took on Katherine was immense. Even after saving his life, she couldnā€™t shake the feeling of guilt, wondering if there was more she couldā€™ve done to prevent that. It haunted her dreams, a macabre mix between the surgery and the night from more than 15 years ago, a constant reminder of how she ended up where she was. Saving lives to pay the price of not saving the most important one to her. Now, as Dr. Ivanov brought up the case again, all those emotions came flooding back with a vengeance. The accusation of brutalizing her patients cut deep, reopening wounds that had barely begun to heal again. Katherine felt a mix of anger, shame, and sorrow swirling inside her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. But amidst the turmoil of her emotions, there was a glimmer of defiance in Katherineā€™s eyes. She refused to let Dr. Ivanovā€™s words break her spirit. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze head-on. But she didnā€™t drop a word anymore; she was done trying to convince him otherwise.
4:05ā€ÆAM
Katherine didnā€™t realize she could breathe again after Dr. Ivanov finally left, leaving her in the hallway. He shouldnā€™t have that much influence on her. She refused to let his accusations define her. Yet she still ended up in the bar across the hospital after her shift, drowning her pain in shots of tequila despite exhaustion overtaking her senses.
4:05ā€ÆAM
@Deleted User
Avatar
Deleted User 5/13/2024 4:46ā€ÆAM
The rest of his shift was grueling as their interaction played on Rey's mind while he did clinical observations in the ER, and filled out paperwork. He was stunned at himself for managing to snap at someone in that way, even if Dr Harlow was someone who he felt he truly clashed with. He just hated the idea of someone with a savior complex, and maybe he was just pushing his idea that this is what she was onto her, but deep inside him Katherine's line of work caused a rumble of hurt and stress. His shift ended up being cut short. After his final appointment, he had enough. He couldn't focus and excused himself from the ER, deciding to continue to review medical files at home, remotely. He picked up his bags and coat and made his way home, walking briskly. He replayed her shocked expression during their confrontation in his mind, and grimaced. He didn't like to make people feel bad, but he felt she deserved it... or maybe he was problem solving... if she understood him better... she'd work better alongside him. But he could have done that without snapping at her like that, yes? He was feeling hurt himself. Maybe he needed a break. Bzztt His phone came to life and unfortunately it wasn't anything he looked forward to responding. Need lift 2 place near ur work. gig He didn't really want to go out after this shift, but the world wasn't ever really in anyones favour. ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ Rey just planned to sit harmlessly at the bar. He pulled up to the curb and waited until his passenger got out, dutifully opening the trunk for him with the little lever near his seat, and letting him get out his instruments. While waiting behind the wheel of the parked vehicle, he took his glasses off, rubbing his nose bridge and pulling out his phone. The trunk clunked shut. His phone was void of messages from family, friends, 'loved ones'. He had a message from a nurse he worked with, linking him some records which he'd go over tonight... Swiping through the slides which captured the little icons on his phone, he noticed a little red 1 next to a yellow app which he had recently downloaded and temporarily forgotten about. When he'd created an account with 'Personable', he was pleasantly surprised to know it's whole gimmick was 'no faces, only personalities'. Encouraging people to connect as friends or partners based only on personality quiz' and a very restricted set of photos. Any photos detecting a face or torso would not be approved. For someone who essentially had greying from birth this anonymity was nice. Furthermore you were only allowed to know the first letter of your matches name, it was truly about trying to connect people through only their interests - which appealed to Rey a lot more then other apps. He didn't have any real friends... He had tried to make his account appealing. He'd set a 50 mile radius and went for it, answering quizzes which eventually labeled him as "Organized, Sympathetic, Refined, Down-to-Earth, Generous, Quiet and Loving." Interests revolving around "Collecting socks, drawing, painting, movies, work, cats." His job was simply "Medical", and all the work baggage shed away with that reduction of his role. His pictures were simple, (you only got three choices): 1) His hands and part of his body holding five kittens he'd gotten to pet at a farmers market a year ago, taken by his younger brother. 2) His fun socks peeking out from his tidy shoes; a pair with little fruits pattered all over them 3) A drawing he had done of a beautiful mysterious woman, who had tenderness in her eyes. With these pictures, people got to see a more relaxed, at ease side of him that no one did anymore. But when he checked the app while sitting in the car, it was just a notification that he had been unmatched by someone who's conversations slowly fizzled out after a couple weeks. He decided he'd check for new people on the app once inside the bar. (edited)
4:46ā€ÆAM
ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ Entering, he didn't even see Katherine. He wasn't looking for her after all. He watched his older brother, a shorter, slightly chubbier (maybe... more normal looking) copy of Rey setting up on the little stage. His guitar case set down. He was just giving a lift to the musician, and planned to sit alone at the bar, maybe with some Whiskey, and browse his phone. With the man who looked so similar to Rey up on stage, it was more likely for Katherine to notice him first, but that wasn't even a thought on his mind. He opened 'Personable' up again...
4:46ā€ÆAM
@Taiga On The Shelf 🐅
Avatar
Taiga On The Shelf šŸ… 5/22/2024 9:31ā€ÆAM
ā€œPour me another one!ā€ Katherine slammed the shot glass onto the bar, leaning forward to make sure the bartender heard her. She wasnā€™t particularly drunk, but the previous three shots were already flowing through her bloodstream, a warm feeling prompting her to unwind and not care as much. As she waited, she impatiently knocked the shot glass against the bar and stared down the bartender. Compared to more than 24 hours ago, Katherine wasnā€™t as put together. Her red hair was sticking out of her high ponytail, dark circles marked her eyes from both exhaustion and smudged mascara, and her band tee was creased. Yet someone might describe her look as grunge, and she wasnā€™t devoid of looks from men. ā€œSomeone had a rough day,ā€ a soft voice came from behind Katherine after she got another shot poured and drank it in one big gulp. Katherine slowly turned with a squint, leaning onto the bar with her elbow. Behind her was a woman with blond beach curls, wearing a beige tight suit and Prada high heels. The woman raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows while pouting her pink lips. Katherine had a serious face, looking at the blonde woman with a hint of judgment before shaking her head and rolling her eyes. ā€œIs this your idea of cheering someone up, Beth?ā€ Katherine leaned her head onto her hand, looking at the blonde woman with a daring look and a hint of cheer. Beth groaned and muttered something about Katherine being too serious before leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek while taking a seat beside her. Despite Katherine's tired look, she was glad that her friend was there to provide some company. It meant she wouldnā€™t be alone, endlessly replaying her shift and the talk with Dr. Ivanov in her head. She could use some distraction, and spending time with one of her old friends would surely help.
9:31ā€ÆAM
Beth took a seat beside her and waved down the bartender to order a glass of Chardonnay, then turned her attention back to Katherine, who couldnā€™t help but grin and shake her head. Katherine still couldnā€™t adjust to how much her friend had changed over the years. Beth was now a well-known lawyer with impeccable looks and a taste for the finer things in life. Yet, Katherine still vividly remembered their wild teenage daysā€”sneaking out at night to sit under the bridge, sharing deep conversations over a cigarette and a stolen bottle of beer from a gas station. ā€œNow, tell me what the hell happened to leave you sitting here like this,ā€ Beth said, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity. She took a sip of her Chardonnay, her eyes never leaving Katherineā€™s face. Katherine sighed. She knew she couldnā€™t avoid this topic, not after sending that one message in all capital letters with raging emojis. Even if Katherine tried to change the subject, Beth knew how to coax the truth out of anyone. There was a reason she was a well-known lawyer after all. Katherine glanced at her empty shot glass, playing with it with her fingers, contemplating another one, but decided against it. She turned to her best friend, ultimately giving in to her request. She was too exhausted to fight her anyway. ā€œWhere do I even start?ā€ Katherine began, rubbing her temples. ā€œItā€™s been a whirlwind. Last shift was... brutal. And this bastard Dr. Ivanov... I canā€™t evenā€”ā€ She groaned, clenching her fists as the same rage from before bubbled up. Katherine took a deep breath, feeling the emotions swirling inside her like a storm. ā€œI came out of a day-long surgery on a patient who jumped in front of a train. It was a tough one, but sheā€™s still alive,ā€ Katherine took another moment to collect herself. ā€œJust as I came to check on her, Dr. Ivanov came up to me and laid into me. He questioned every single decision I made, like I was some incompetent idiot!ā€
9:31ā€ÆAM
Katherineā€™s voice kept rising, she couldnā€™t stop herself from letting it out. But it didnā€™t matter much in the noisy bar, where only a few nearby people could hear them clearly. ā€œAnd to top it all off, he brought up the double amputee case I told you about. He said I brutalize my patients!ā€ Some people sitting nearby turned to give Katherine a look. Maybe they wanted to remember the face of the doctor who potentially brutalizes patients. She couldnā€™t help but stare them down, refusing to be gawked at like an animal in a zoo. Bethā€™s eyes narrowed, her lips slightly parted. She knew exactly what kind of feelings the double amputee case brought with it. ā€œThat bastard... If I ever see him, Iā€™ll scratch his eyes out. Weā€™ll see what he thinks about brutalizing then.ā€ Katherine raised an eyebrow, looking intently at Beth, trying to see if she was serious. They exchanged a silent look, Beth looking as determined as ever. It wasnā€™t long before they burst into laughter, and Katherine finally felt some ease. If there was one person who could lift her spirits, it was Beth. They had each other's backs. ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ The night was quickly unraveling. Katherine and her friend got more drinks. While Katherine stayed true to her tequila, Bethā€™s true nature was slowly trickling to the outside, exchanging wine for vodka. After taking some more time to talk about what happened with Dr. Ivanov, the conversation gradually transitioned to more exciting topics. It felt as if they spoke about everything in the world, yet there was always something more they had to discuss.
9:31ā€ÆAM
The bar was filling with people, and Katherine saw a person appear on the stage. It quickly became clear that tonight was one of those live music nights, and Katherine hoped the man would play some songs everyone could sing along to. Beth straightened her back, trying to look over the crowd and get a better look at the singer. Katherine couldnā€™t stop herself from teasing Beth, telling her that she looked as if the man on the stage was her crush. Beth tried to laugh it off, but Katherine knew her friend too well. She could see why Beth would find the man attractive. ā€œDid you hear about this new app?ā€ Beth asked, distracting Katherine from her new attraction. She already had her phone out, clicking on an app icon with a simple black-and-white design. Personable. ā€œYou create an account, get matched with people you can chat with. But thereā€™s a catchā€”you donā€™t know what the person looks like.ā€ Katherine grimaced as she looked at the app. She had never been interested in using any dating app and was a strong believer that the right person would turn up in her life eventually, without the use of any app. ā€œHow do you know the person youā€™re talking to isnā€™t a predator or someone on the most wanted list?ā€ Beth shrugged, a playful grin spreading across her face. ā€œThatā€™s the thrill of it, isnā€™t it? You get to know someone for who they are without any preconceived notions based on appearance.ā€ Her eyes twinkled with mischief. ā€œBesides, there are some safety features in place. You can report anyone who seems suspicious, and thereā€™s a pretty robust verification process.ā€
9:31ā€ÆAM
Katherine rolled her eyes but couldnā€™t help chuckling. ā€œI donā€™t know, Beth. I like to meet people naturally. Plus, I like seeing who Iā€™m dealing with upfront.ā€ Beth leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ā€œCome on, Kat. Live a little. Download it and see what happens. You might be surprised. And do you really expect to meet someone at work, filled with jerks like Dr. Ivanov?ā€ Before Katherine could respond, the man on the stage began to strum his guitar, capturing everyoneā€™s attention. The first chords were familiar, and a ripple of excitement moved through the crowd. It was one of those classic sing-along rock songs everyone knew. Katherine and Beth exchanged glances, the conversation about the app momentarily forgotten. The music enveloped them, the deep baritone of the man tickling their senses, and soon they were singing along with the rest of the bar. For a while, everything else faded awayā€”the rage about Dr. Ivanov, the stress of the past week, and even the curiosity about the new app. As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew even more lively. People danced, laughed, and shared stories, creating an energy that Katherine couldnā€™t resist. She felt a warmth spread through her, not just from the tequila, but from the simple joy of the moment. Eventually, the singer took a break, and Beth nudged Katherine playfully. ā€œSo, about that appā€¦ā€ Katherine sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. She couldnā€™t believe she was even considering this and blamed the tequila. ā€œFine, Iā€™ll give it a try. But youā€™ll be the one to blame if I end up talking to someone weird whoā€™s going to kidnap me.ā€ Beth laughed, clinking her shot glass against Katherineā€™s. ā€œThatā€™s the spirit! And who knows, you might just meet someone amazing.ā€
9:31ā€ÆAM
Katherine shook her head, still skeptical but willing to humor her friend. She took out her phone, downloaded Personable, and started the sign-up process, her curiosity piqued despite herself. As she filled in the details, she couldnā€™t help but wonder what kind of people she would encounterā€”and whether Bethā€™s experiment would lead to anything more than a few interesting conversations. Katherine had a more joking approach to creating her account. She entered the first username that came to her mindā€”TheKittyKatDoctorā€”which made her laugh and prompted a disappointed sigh from Beth, who thought she should approach the setup of an account more seriously. Katherine kept clicking through the parameters, eventually leading her to some quizzes. She hoped she would be finished soon, growing impatient as the questions seemed to never end. She was surprised to see the results of the quizzes describing her quite wellā€”Outgoing, Energetic, Adventurous, Passionate, and Loving. Katherine also added some of her interestsā€”Hiking, Photography, Cooking, Dogs, and Travel. She left the mention of her job empty, leaving it up to the interpretation of her username. She didnā€™t give a lot of thought while choosing her pictures, mostly taking the first three without an upper body: a close-up of her hands holding a vintage camera, her hiking boots on a rugged trail surrounded by autumn leaves, and a photo of a street lamp at night, casting a warm glow. With her profile finally set up, Katherine slipped her phone back into her jacket and turned her attention back to the bar. The singer had started a new set, and an energetic tune filled the room. Beth nudged her playfully. ā€œDance with me?ā€
9:32ā€ÆAM
Katherine grinned, grabbing Bethā€™s hand and pulling her toward the small dance floor by the stage filled with people. She felt the freedom coursing through her veins, the worries of the previous shift only faintly present. At this moment, she was just Kat, not Dr. Harlow, who according to her colleague, brutalized her patients. The music enveloped them, and they moved with the rhythm, laughing and twirling amidst the crowd. They werenā€™t shy about fully letting themselves go and didnā€™t care if someone thought they were in a relationship. It was Beth and Kat against the world.
9:32ā€ÆAM
@Deleted User
Avatar
Deleted User 5/22/2024 10:46ā€ÆPM
The man on stage playing seemed to generate a wonderful energy in the room. Everyone bopped and hummed along at first and it only built up as more people felt comfortable singing and dancing. Most people at the bar were enjoying themselves between their drinks. It was a pretty packed night, which wasn't uncommon for a bar in such a high-traffic area of town. A whole variety of people were there, young people with the energy and drinks in their system to dance; and older folk who just wanted to bop their heads with a well made old-fashioned. Rey wasn't really a social man, though, and he sat on the bar, head down and sipping his whiskey. He didn't drink often, and seeing as he was driving he was only allowed one drink, but a whiskey on the rocks was feasible tonight. He focused on his phone, not really looking up and not being lulled to dance by his brothers talented playing. He scrolled through his phone, checking out the home page of Personable. He didn't notice anyone new, just the same people within his general area. He didn't have much else better to do, though, and quickly reloaded the home page to perhaps see something new. He couldn't say he had much hope though, as he'd not made a single friend this entire time. "TheKittyKatDoctor" A new person! He was surprised as it must be relatively new, he'd just opened the app maybe ten minutes ago. He scrolled through the pictures, hiking, photography, and a pretty light. He had never been hiking before, nowhere far out of the city, but he wasn't opposed to it. He did like walking, just generally. And of course he respected photography, as someone who drew. He swiped to the right, and a thumbs up appeared on the screen at the same time. He was willing to try talking to about anyone. He pocketed his phone afterwards, sipping his drink slowly and peering around. Amidst the people, he couldn't identify one person, so he ended up just staring off into space as he drank, pondering work, people, friends, his family... His fight from today. It had truly not been worth the argument, but he just didn't want to let it go. He was irate at Katherine and couldn't get the situation out of his mind. He wishes he was at home resting but he wasn't he was essentially babysitting.
10:46ā€ÆPM
ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ It is about 20 minutes later when the musician's set ends and it is his turn to give up the stage to another one. He stands and into the microphone in a soft voice he closes his set. "Thank you, everyone. This was Hector Ivanov, you can find me for hire under that name, or online, at 'Old Ivan'. Enjoy your night." His voice is soft spoken and sultry, deeper but familiar to Rey's of course. And his thick accent shines through, it's thicker then Rey's. He steps down from the stage and there is a 5 minute interlude announced to allow people to get a drink, use the bathroom, anything they might want. When his brother doesn't immediately come to leave, Rey get's annoyed and glares at him while he disappears into the crowd of people. He doesn't get up to chase him down as it's not really his problem, but he does get his phone out to text him. I want to leave. He begins scanning the people, looking around to find Hector. Instead, he catches someone else in his eye, conveniently staring at the back of Katherine's head. But he glimpses enough of the side of her face to recognize her. He gasps, and furrows his brow, looking away quickly in case she was one of those people who could sense when they were being looked at. He shakes his head. Of course she is here, it's right next to the hospital. No surprise she wants to drink as he did rip into her at work. He almost feels a pang of frustration at that. She was coming to drink instead of being self-reflective? He was trying to self-reflect! But he lets the moment pass as he rolls his eyes, resuming looking through the crowd for Hector. His brother hasn't even read the message, heading through the people to the other side of the bar, bumping into a few people carelessly as he does. He apologizes though, giving any women sweet, wooing smiles. He's definitely a handsome man, with a less strange appearance then his brother. Although, he has a large scar down the middle of his face from one eye brow to the opposite cheek. He had pre-gamed his performance with some generous drinks, and was looking to get some more, prolonging his awkward brothers stay at the bar by himself. He bumped into some blonde woman, staggering back a bit as well. "Oh pardon, my dear." He says, raising his brows and stepping back. He was dressed neatly, a dark red suit and his shoulder length hair was silky and flowed around his face. Rey caught up to him in the crowd and suddenly hoped to god that this other woman wasn't with Katherine, as they were standing nearby. He slinks down from the bar and towards the exit, standing outside in the cold and texting again. Come on. (edited)
Avatar
Taiga On The Shelf šŸ… 8/4/2024 11:12ā€ÆAM
As time went on, filled with a whirlwind of dances, laughter, and trying to sing along with the performer on stage, Kat felt the weight of the day finally slip from her shoulders. It didnā€™t matter what Dr. Ivanov had to say about her way of working, she knew what she was capable of and was convinced she did her best with what she had. She wasnā€™t a magician, just human. What mattered more now was spending the night with her best friend Beth and truly enjoying her company. Though Beth had come after Katherine's first message, it wasnā€™t possible for them to meet up as often as they would like. Beth worked long hours to ensure the best outcomes for her clients. One could dream of having a person like her by their sideā€”willing to give everything to protect them from injustice. Katherine, on the other hand, was an emergency surgeon with very limited time between shifts, which practically didnā€™t allow for any social life. The singer on stage had a gift for enticing the whole crowd to move their bodies to the joyful tunes, shout along to repeated lines, and sway thoughtfully during the more deep and melancholic songs. His rich baritone voice was amplified magnificently by the bar's acoustics, making the experience even more special. Katherine let herself fully immerse in the sound of the singer's voice and the movement of her body. Beth was also enjoying the performance alongside her, yet she seemed more distracted than usual, her brown eyes darting to the singer on stage a few times too often. Kat couldnā€™t help but notice her friendā€™s interest in the singer, and she found herself being truly happy for Beth. She had grown up with Beth and knew what both of them had gone through just to be here tonight. Beth was very reserved when it came to men, and Kat couldnā€™t remember the last time Beth had shown any signs of interest in someone.
11:13ā€ÆAM
The performance couldn't last long enough. Kat desperately wanted to stay in her peaceful trance, fully letting go of reality, but it was cut off the moment the singer ended his performance. On the outside, she didn't seem bothered, clapping along with others and smiling at the squealing Beth beside her, who was enchanted by the man on stage. Yet Katā€™s smile faltered for a moment when she heard the singer's nameā€¦ Ivanov. Could this be a coincidence, or did fate play a cruel game, continually confronting Kat with the person she disliked the most? She kept clapping, yet her heart skipped a beat when she took a closer look at the man on stage and saw the familiar eyes that haunted her. It was hard to believe, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this man could be a relative of Dr. Ivanov. Goosebumps ran up her back, making her look around the crowd surrounding them. She couldn't shake the presence of Dr. Ivanov, yet he was nowhere to be seenā€”not that Kat expected to see him. As far as she imagined, Dr. Ivanov only knew the way from the hospital and back to whatever cave he lived in. She tried hard to shake off the feeling of goosebumps rising up her back, a weird prickling sending heat through her veins. But she was ripped out of her trance, noticing Beth had already pulled her towards the bar to get more drinks, or so she thought. ā€œOh no, I'm so sorry! I didn't look where I was going,ā€ Beth exclaimed as she took a step back after bumping into a larger man making his way to the bar. Another look and Kat finally recognized the manā€”it was the singer from before, and suddenly it made sense why Beth wanted them to go towards the bar. That feisty woman was on a mission, yet her appearance was of an innocent, petite blonde flickering her long lashes from the surprise of colliding with a stranger. She slid her manicured hands over the man's broad shoulders, a way of making sure she didn't mess up his look and ensuring he wasn't too hurt from their collision.
11:13ā€ÆAM
ā€œAre you the singer from before?ā€ Beth's soft voice came forward. ā€œI'm sorry once again for bumping into you, my clumsiness got the best of me!ā€ She laughed, one of her hands still on his shoulder. Katherine sensed it was her cue to fall back. Beth and Kat were supposed to spend the night together, with Beth here to provide emotional support for Kat. Yet Kat wasn't even disappointed and was happy Beth had shown some interest in someone. Even though on the outside she was a bubbly blonde, a ray of sunshine, there was much darkness following her, and it was hard for her to open up her heart again. It had shut that one night when they were 16 years old. ā€œI'm Bethany,ā€ she kept smiling wide, not stopping eye contact once, her brown eyes sparkling in the dimmed light. ā€œPlease, allow me to buy you a drink. As an apology,ā€ she leaned forward, hoping he'd accept her invitation. Katherine looked around the crowd again, and suddenly the crowd felt too big, too loud. The buzz from the alcohol still kept her on her feet, yet it was apparent that she was still human, and a 24-hour shift with little to no sleep was taking a toll on her. ā€œHey Beth,ā€ Katherine quickly leaned toward her friend, closer to her ear to make sure she'd hear her. ā€œI'm going outside for a smoke.ā€ ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜
11:13ā€ÆAM
Stepping outside and breathing in the cold air already made Katherine feel much better. She looked up at the sky, seeing some of the stars hidden behind the light pollution of the city. A deep sigh escaped her as she reached inside her leather jacket, pulling out a cigarette and a metal lighter. With smooth movements, she put the cigarette between her lips and lit it, holding a hand in front to block off the wind. Taking the first puff of nicotine-filled smoke already made her feel better. But as she turned to her left, ready to exhale the smoke, it never really left her lungs and got stuck in her throat. Katherine fought with a coughing fit, her carefully built peace from the night spent with her friend totally gone. ā€œFor fuck's sake,ā€ she muttered between coughs, shaking her head as she looked at the ominous figure standing not too far from the bar entrance. Life clearly hated Katherine, confronting her with the man she couldnā€™t stand most, the second time today. It was Dr. Ivanov, standing there with the same stern expression she knew too well from the hospital corridors. His presence here, of all places, was enough to make her pulse quicken with annoyance. He was out of context, removed from the sterile white walls and glaring lights, yet his aura of judgment seemed to follow him like a shadow.
11:13ā€ÆAM
ā€œWhat the hell are you doing here?ā€ she blurted out before she could stop herself, her voice a mix of surprise and frustration. She took a shaky breath and added, ā€œDo you follow me everywhere, or is this some kind of twisted coincidence?ā€ Her eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and disbelief. ā€œYouā€™ve made your opinion about me pretty clear at work, Dr. Ivanovā€ She felt the weight of the day, the exhaustion and the emotional rollercoaster, all crashing down on her. She took a step back, shaking her head as if trying to make sense of the surreal situation and taking another puff of her cigarette in hopes of calming down. ā€œYou donā€™t strike me as the type to enjoy a night out. Arenā€™t you supposed to be holed up in your office, criticizing my every move?ā€ Her eyes narrowed, the adrenaline of the unexpected encounter sharpening her words. ā€œI needed a break from you, from everything. So why canā€™t I escape you, even here?ā€
11:13ā€ÆAM
@cowboy
Avatar
cowboy 8/5/2024 2:45ā€ÆAM
The firmer and friendlier Ivanov brother had a passionate love for running into beautiful women in bars. Like a lot of people, music was an arts which really spoke to people, made its way into their soul - and it pushed him into many a great encounter with those around him. Hector certainly liked women... Bethany was pretty, perky blonde, nice manicure, petite, generally sweet, but as Hector looked into her eyes, even as her hand rested on his shoulder, a moment of discomfort flickered across his face. He wouldn't admit to this lovely lady what brought this on, however, because he was still a gentlemen at heart. "Oh, don't worry! It happens, so crowded in here." He said, and he gazed her over with a careful eye to make sure she too wasn't hurt by the stumble. Running into Hector was a hard wall, he was pretty broad and fit, but it wasn't like a rock. He seemed like he'd give a good hug. He was in almost every way different to his stony-faced, cold, cruel brother. Was he older? Rey Ivanov had the totalitarian personality of an older brother, but this could also be the whiny desire of the younger brother to 'one up' the older. It didn't really matter though. Up close like this the singer shared some of the same features of Rey, and it was undeniable they had to be related - even down to the subtle accent (which was more prominent in this long haired charm). The possibility of more Ivanov's in the world was somewhat scary. This one didn't seem like the worst thing to occur, but it brought forward the idea that Rey Ivanov had siblings and therefore parents. People who were able to raise him to become the apparent low-morality hater he was. Although Hector was like a sparkling light compared to Rey, and therefore the chance that the doctor was just an outlier, a bad egg, was growing with every moment. How could it be that someone was able to raise one sunbeam and one overly critical, judgmentally focused, out of touch troglodyte. Hector laughed when Beth addressed him as the singer. "I am, I am!" He said, and he gave a bow with some jest. He also had a radiance which plumed off of him like a good tab of LSD. Charming, electric, a low-slung ease, mixed with undeniable class and expensive suits. He looks into Beth's eyes and takes her hand politely, with a gentlemanly charm kisses the back of it, a clear air of tease posed in the action. "Good to meet you, dear Bethany." He says, a joking curl in his words, and he watches her lean forward, remaining where he stood, but not at all recoiling. "Now as someone as lovely as you should be the one getting free drinks. My drinks are on the house tonight, so join my tab." He says, and he momentarily eyes Kat, his friendly smile presented to her too. His eyes had some odd expression in them though, but it was unclear between his positivity. "Enjoy the smoke, I'll be stealing your friend here to the bar." He says to Kat, at least in touch with the idea that some women in bars were hesitant to leave each others side. He gives a wave and as a different singer makes themself known on the little stage, Hector makes his way with Beth to get a drink, something he feels is deserved. ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ (edited)
2:45ā€ÆAM
Rey was perched in the shadows on his phone. His eyes automatically shifted up as someone came outside. He hoped it was Hector, but he almost threw up a little in his mouth when he saw her. He scowled and made a small attempt to shrink away, not wanting this interaction, not wanting this kind of stress in his afternoon, he was already on self-described 'chaperone duty'. He could be at home, but now he was face to face with Dr Harlow. He tried to snap his phone off as the light illuminated his face, but it was far too late when she coughed out a lung-full. He backs up, waving a hand and rolling his eyes. "Ah-ha-ha." He laughed sardonically, avoiding her second hand-smoke. "Dr Harlow, people don't think about you outside of work as much as you think they do." He snapped, but it's a blatant lie seeing as he was earlier beating himself up about snapping at her. But here he was doing it again. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, they jumped over the bump and were firm on the bridge. "Of any of the people who would be following you around, it wouldn't be me. But what you spend your night doing is none of my business, although disheartening to see a doctor smoking like this." He said, a tinge of 'holier-than-thou' in his tone. He didn't smoke, he thought it was a rancid and foul addiction, but in every-day folk he expected it. A doctor? Pathetic. "I'm not here enjoying a night out, I have better things to do, I'm helping someone out." He said, and he opened his phone again briefly, seeking a text, or some sign that it was home-time. He knew if he left now anyway, that Hector would find a way home, but knowing Katherine was here at the bar gave him a sort of stress in the bottom of his stomach that they'd run into each other. He crossed his arms. In his head he weighed the pros and cons of ditching his brother, and he ended up with his care factor on the floor, burrowing into the concrete under the discarded cigarette butts and gum. Katherine continued and Rey shook his head as well, seemingly frustration and despair on his face in the dark. He rummaged through his coat pockets, and dug out his car keys. "You know what, Katherine, take your break. You deserve it." He hissed, and he took one intimidating step closer to her. "You never know what kind of day you'll have tomorrow when your patient is up. Oh wait, that's my day." He turns on his heel and his frustration mounted, he made his way to the car park, using the fob to unlock his car, effectively leaving his brother stranded.
2:46ā€ÆAM
@Taiga On The Shelf 🐅
Avatar
Taiga On The Shelf šŸ… 9/1/2024 6:04ā€ÆAM
For Katherine, it felt like the night air had become several degrees colder. Leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin, a shiver ran through her as she took another drag on her cigarette to hide her trembling. The tremor caused by the man who didn't seem to care about anyone's feelings but his own - Dr. Ivanov. No matter under what circumstances they met, it always resulted in a violent chemical reaction leading to combustion. This time was no exception. For some reason Katherine could never figure out, he seemed to harbor a hatred for her since the day they met. She remembered that day like it was yesterday. Katherine had just started her new position as head trauma surgeon, which felt like a dream to her, as she never thought she would get a job offer from the biggest hospital in town, which was a level one trauma center. Previously, she had been working at a hospital just outside the city, treating mostly minor trauma. But now she had the opportunity to be involved in the most complicated cases that were sent directly to the hospital where she now worked. Even at the smaller hospital, she managed to make a name for herself, mostly because of her creativity in saving lives with limited resources. Her first priority was always to keep someone alive, and in her way of working, that didn't always mean putting quality of life before being alive. She never slaughtered her patients and tried her best to patch up them without a trace, but sometimes that meant cutting deep just to keep someone alive. Something she wished she could have done 15 years ago. Even though her body healed after that night, leaving only scars, her soul never really recovered. She lost a piece of herself that night, but that didn't stop her from moving forward and living her life.
6:04ā€ÆAM
The day she met Dr. Ivanov was supposed to be a milestone, a new beginning. Katherine had walked into the hospital with a hard-earned confidence, ready to prove herself in an environment where the stakes were higher, where every decision could mean the difference between life and death. Her reputation preceded her - she was known as the surgeon who could work miracles with minimal resources, who never gave up on a patient, no matter how desperate the situation. And within her first hour at the hospital, she got her chance to prove that when a bride and groom, impaled by a steel cable after a tragic car accident, were wheeled into the emergency room. A mixture of white tulle taking up the entire room, ear-piercing screams from the bride, and blood spilling onto the sterile ER floor. It was one of those cases Katherine kept looking back on. One that kept her awake at night wondering what she could've done differently. By the time they got the couple to one of the trauma rooms, the groom was long gone unconscious, which only sent the bride into a hysteria that no one in the room could stop. The bride, screaming, was held down by several nurses and doctors like a feral cat caught in the street. It was one of those rare moments when a tremor went through Katherine's hands as she was the one to get the sedative for the bride. They had only moments to stop the bride from hurting herself, and they were not enough. Katherine was close to administering the tranquilizer, but she was too late. She would never forget the amount of blood spurting from the bride's wound, covering Katherine's entire torso. One last cry of hysteria, hyperventilated breaths, and the bride was gone. It was then that everyone in the room had to stop caring for the bride and turn their attention to saving the groom, no matter how heartbreaking the moment.
6:04ā€ÆAM
Several hours of surgery, a shower, and three cigarettes later, Katherine was sitting in the groom's recovery room, watching every jump on the heart monitor. She had lost the groom twice during the surgery, but miraculously she had been able to repair the damage, and now it was only a matter of time before he woke up. She never expected her first day in the hospital to be like this, but it was part of her job. She only sat in the room for ten minutes, but it felt like hours before she finally got up and walked out of the room to fill out some charts on the case and put her final signature on the bride's paperwork. It was the first time she saw Dr. Ivanov. Seeing him looking at the groom through the glass walls as she walked outside made her heart skip a beat. She feared that this day had brought out too many emotions in her and wondered if this was one of the signs of a heart attack. Something about this stranger in a white coat, his height and a single strand of gray hair itched inside Katherine. It felt like meeting an old acquaintance, but she was sure they had never met before. Still, she pretended to walk casually toward the nurses' station where he stood. The silence around them was deafening, only the rustling of the paperwork Katherine was filling out could be heard. "Who would have thought that 'till death do us part' would last barely an hour - I guess forever wasn't in the cards after all," Katherine broke the silence with a dark joke. It was really her only way of dealing with the situation, even if she felt her comment was insensitive. "I'm Katherine Harlow, the new senior trauma surgeon, I don't believe we've met." Katherine remembered looking up at him as he stood at her side. Her deep red hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, the remnants of her black eyeliner smeared around the edges of her deep green eyes. The last time she would be truly open to him.
6:05ā€ÆAM
@cowboy
Avatar
cowboy 9/3/2024 11:00ā€ÆAM
Rey had remembered the day they met all too well. It was another day that he had lodged into his memory, and he couldn't seem to shake it. He had spent most of the time while Katherine was in surgery at home, as it wasn't until his scheduled shift that afternoon that the thick paper binder was delivered to his desk by the nurse he'd asked to work with his section. Darla had been working with Dmitri Rey for many years now, and was generally one of the only people he liked to work with these days, although he was cordial to most. Now though, Darla had retired, and he was back to basics. He had met up at the trauma ward with Darla, and a couple other folks who were hovering around the nurses station. A junior surgeon who's humbleness towards the far more senior Dr Ivanov pleased him, a med student, and a couple nurses who he knew called him 'Bones' behind his back - as a lot of people did, not that he minded. "I had a look at the photos, they're not bad, of course it wont really be the physical issues I have to worry about here..." He conversed, flicking through papers. He was soft spoken, gentle, but had an authority - He led whatever conversation he was in with sincerity and grace, and most other staff knew to treat him with respect. He'd done his med-training at this hospital, and his intern placement, and was offered a return the moment he graduated. He was a built-in part of the mental health ward, and people thought one day he might even be embalmed in his chair in the office where he worked from. Psychiatrists weren't shifted around too often, as it was important for ER level patients to be seeing the same doctor consistently. People pushed to the point of coming for mental health support in dire times just needed regularity, stability, and no one was thinking of getting rid of Rey any time soon. Although lanky and almost off-putting in appearance, it was his calm, serious energy that most people found reassuring. He was reaper-like, light handed and careful, not smiling often, but looking at people with an intense, understanding look, like he saw into the soul. He was the most requested mental health aide at the hospital, and there were only three, but he was the only psychiatrist, the other two being a MH ward orderly and a family therapist. No one was really friends with him, though. Nurses usually made friends with one another, and doctors in their same wards, but the other two mental health professionals on the team really didn't seem to bond with him. Not that it mattered too much though, it wasn't a requirement that people make friends. But no one saw him joking or laughing with a coworker. He had a cold feeling, but like the snow falling slowly outside, rather then the impenetrable ice.
11:00ā€ÆAM
He didn't see Katherine coming up when she did, he fiddled with a pen in his hand, leaning on the reception desk with Darla flicking through his binder, looking for a post-surgery report. "It's going to be a while until he's stable, so I don't have to start worrying today, of course." He was the only other person speaking, and at a volume so soft that it hovered amongst the small team, and didn't travel far out. It was the last thing he'd said before the team fell into their oppressive silence while he flicked over pictures, his 'thinking face' on, as people called it. Her joke sliced through the air like a stick of butter, a cold, hard one. There certainly was silence after the spoke too, and he turned himself to the side, blinking, jaw slightly agape as he met her eyes. Her eyes were so green, and they held the tired humor of the dark joke and awkward introduction, as well as an exhausting surgery where she had proven her ability to give people life, but immediately destroyed any chance she'd had to make Rey see her in that way. Had their eyes met in the hallways before this piercing moment, he might have given that sort of tense, thin lipped smile he gave everyone, but instead they pursed, and his face remained serious while a nurse sitting behind reception let out a strangled chortle, because she couldn't laugh at this kind of joke with Rey standing right there. No one could, they knew. "Rey Ivanov." He said slowly, looking her up and down. "The person who's going to be telling this man his wife is dead, in 72 hours." He said shortly. "Oh, and also the ER Psychiatrist." It was patronizing. She put a bad taste in his mouth. Some nurses were too gossipy, some doctors too egotistical, Rey felt like he was the hospital 'dampener' sometimes, the guy who was always bringing down the mood with the reality that after the ER was said and done, people were struggling in more ways then physical. His pessimistic internal dialogue bled onto their first meeting, and he didn't like her. "You're new here? Haven't seen you around, yet." He said, spinning his pen between his finger and his thumb. "Nice to have met you." He didn't smile. His tone was venomously sardonic. He offered her no charity or chance to alleviate the situation, his eyes boring holes into her as he stared. She could see her own reflection in his round glasses, like a mirror allowing her to judge herself as he judged her. From up there, his view of her made her look so small. She could have tasted his bitterness if she had tried.
11:00ā€ÆAM
@Taiga On The Shelf 🐅
Avatar
Taiga On The Shelf šŸ… 9/17/2024 5:21ā€ÆAM
Katherine has never experienced any kind of social anxiety. She has always considered herself an outgoing person, and it was easy for her to strike up a conversation. She never had a problem speaking her mind and never backed down from her opinions. Still, she didn't expect to be met with a pang of embarrassment when she dropped her comment at the nurses' station and introduced herself. The only source of that feeling - the tall male doctor she had noticed earlier, now staring at her and it felt like he was trying to burn holes in her skull. Katherine should've given him a polite smile and moved on, focusing her attention on the others at the nursing station, but her eyes remained glued to the doctor's glassy blue eyes. For a moment, time seemed to stretch. Katherine felt her heart skip a beat, either from embarrassment or from being awake far too long. She decided to go with the latter, as the idea of being embarrassed by making her usual kind of joke and introducing herself was something outside the realm of her experience. The doctor, with his sharp features and unwavering gaze, looked as if he were assessing her, weighing her worth in an instant. His blue eyes were cold, almost distant, yet filled with something she couldn't decipher. She half expected him to yell at her, like many of the old school doctors from her medical school days. But when he opened his mouth, a deep and deliberate voice came from him, he introduced himself, and finally the concept of Rey Ivanov formed in Katherine's head.
5:21ā€ÆAM
For a moment, Katherine couldn't tell if she was relieved or unsettled by the calm introduction that followed. His name sounded as sharp as his gaze, cutting through the tension she hadn't realized she was holding. She felt an urgent need to say something, to somehow wipe that dark expression from his face. But before she could say anything, another nurse interrupted her, urgently handing a chart to Dr. Ivanov. Without another word or glance, he seemed instantly distracted by the chart, leaving a strange emptiness in the air. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but it felt like the beginning of something - something quietly tense and unspoken. The beginning of their silent battle, where words were rare and angry glares were common. ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ā«˜ Katherine stood frozen, the sharp sting of Rey's words still in the air after he'd turned to walk away. Maybe it was the alcohol flowing through her veins and the nicotine hitting her brain, but she couldn't stop her frustration from boiling over. She always felt like his personal whipping boy. Katherine was confident in her abilities, she knew her value when it came to saving lives, and she believed that a strong will could heal. She might still have all her limbs and most importantly her life, but it was once in the hands of trauma surgeons just like her. And even if they had to take her leg away that night instead of doing their best to leave just a big scar, she knew deep down that she would manage to find the strength to forgive them and be grateful that her life had been saved. But Dr. Ivanov had this attitude that trauma surgeons should either fix a person perfectly or let them die so he wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of comforting a patient. Unable to hold it in any longer, she yelled after him, her voice hoarse from the smoke and carrying a raw edge of anger and hurt.
5:21ā€ÆAM
"You think you're above everyone, don't you, Rey?" Katherine's emotions rose as she used his first name to really emphasize her anger. "Maybe you're just afraid of the real responsibility of guiding someone through pain! You act like everyone is just a cog in a machine, that if they don't perform perfectly, they're failures. But let me tell you something..." Her voice quavered, cracking from the cold air, but she pressed on, determined to make her point. The alcohol clouded her judgment. "You have no idea what it's like to stand at the crossroads of life and death, to look at a patient and know that their future, their very existence, depends on your decisions. It's not just about fixing broken bodies, it's about keeping the heart beating." She took a shaky breath, her anger giving way to a softer, more pained tone. "When you dismiss my work as if it were just a job in a slaughterhouse, you forget what's at stake. In the end, it doesn't matter if your body is broken as long as you're alive. God, you have no idea how much it means to be alive after facing death. And I fight every time to give the patients the relief that someone did their best to keep them alive, no matter how broken they were.
5:21ā€ÆAM
Katherine took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Until you've stood where I've stood, felt what I've felt, held a dying person in your arms, don't you dare belittle me or my work. I'm not just stitching up broken bodies, I'm giving people a chance to see another sunrise, to live their lives. And that's something far beyond your cold, clinical detachment." She didn't notice the moment when Rey's figure disappeared into the darkness of the parking lot, leaving her screaming into the cold air. But her little moment was interrupted by some bottles clinking in the distance and a homeless man stumbling over his baggy clothes. It was an older man who finally got up from his stumble to look at Katherine and let out a drunken whistle, cheering on her monologue. Katherine blinked twice and looked back into the darkness. For all she knew, Dr. Ivanov was probably long gone by the time she started her monologue, and that somehow made her even more angry.
5:22ā€ÆAM
@cowboy
Avatar
cowboy 9/22/2024 1:34ā€ÆPM
Rey heard her as he walked away, although through the droning in his head, the frustration mounting, the thumping of whatever music was playing, and the cars passing as he almost ran to his car... He barely heard her. He didn't want to hear her, to be given reasons why he shouldn't be such a judgmental person. He didn't dislike her, he disliked what she represented. He had hatred for things that happened before her time. She was just the new, fresh face to a position which had given him so much grief in the past. She would never get it. She was the new 'god doctor', the one who gave life to people, breathed it back into their bodies no matter what their state, how they came, she was the savior - and it seemed to trample over the top of the smaller, more intricate forms of helping people. Of saving people. She was the new one and only, but it wasn't her, it was the role she was blessed into. He started the car and as he reversed out of the lot, his phone dinged with a notification from the fool who put him in this position. Hector stepped outside, the girl he met just before in tow. He'd checked his phone and with the flurry of weird messages from his brother, he'd decided to head outside to see if he'd been abandoned for real, and why not bring the lovely lady who was trying to treat him to a drink. He was yet to let her down gently, it was a very awkward thing to say - when you're actually not interested in someone. For now, though, he stood in the doorway for a minute, and watched Katherine receive her applause from the random folk around. Unfortunately, he doesn't get a chance to hear her speech, nor who it might have been directed to. "Hey now, things getting wild on the curb?" Is all he says, stepping aside a little so Beth could exit alongside him, and see her friend as well. He raises the hand with his phone in it, and simply types; ???? and hits send.
1:34ā€ÆPM
@Taiga On The Shelf 🐅
Exported 55 message(s)
Timezone: UTC-10