TRP is a post-Great War AU RWBY RP set in Mistral City and Haven Academy with no canons, no rank claims, no maidens, and no god interference. We offer a progression system and site-wide events that change the setting based on player actions.
[attr="class","lumentemp"] First Aid. [break][break] More importantly, First Aid Courses. [break][break] Lumen knew how to do the most basic things. Living out in the middle of the wilderness led one to be resourceful, so his parents taught him a lot. He wasn’t that squeamish, so it helped. Blood didn’t scare him, nor did the sight of most serious injuries cause him to panic. That was the worse thing one could do when someone was in danger, panic. [break][break] So he sat in his usual spot, and he looked at the practice suture set in front of him set on the table. There was a gel-like substance that was supposedly there to mimic the feeling of human skin and tissue. It was about the size of a large textbook, and on it were more or less lines of broken crevices that were supposed to mimic large wounds. [break][break] There were scissors, forceps, needles, black silk thread. It was a pretty nice, clean kit. And all Lumen did was stare at it for a few moments. He was partnered with someone who he was pretty sure liked doing this sort of thing, though he wasn’t quite sure. Her name was Valentine, that much he did know. Pink hair, bright eyes. The kind of girl who seemed really intent on whatever she was doing. [break][break] He decided to keep it simple, looking to her for the most basic form of social acknowledgment, eye contact. His face was left neutral, practically unreadable. [break][break] “Have you done this before?” [break][break] Of course, he had. Well, to put it simply, he’d been on both ends of the needle and thread. One could see an odd scar on his left hand, where stitching had long healed over but still left the skin uneven. A reminder of an incident from long enough ago, he could be calm about it, even if he didn’t like to remember it. [break][break] He was more than just familiar.
Post by Valentine Varden on Jun 1, 2021 3:24:30 GMT -5
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She rifled through the kit with muted interest, taking stock of everything within. "Of course." she answered simply. Her eyes never left the table. She was, in theory, familiar with the person to the left. Lumen Valley, Red class, (probably?) a second year as well. Valentine didn't interact too frequently with her peers, and perhaps it was because of this that she didn't mention that most recipients of her sutures were deceased animals. [break][break]
Silicon substitutes were decent, but they were expensive, and in medical settings, chicken skin or pig shank served just as well, if not better. Sure, it looked authentic, but it didn't ultimately behave like real skin. Sliding on a pair of gloves, Valentine readied the tissue forceps and lined out the materials once more. A soft frown came to her face- this'd be easier if she was allowed to bring up some stuff from her lab. She opened an alcoholic wipe with little fanfare. The smell was acrid, but any reactions had long since been conditioned out of her. She wiped down the 'laceration' delicately and efficiently, finding herself speaking up as she did so. [break][break]
"In a pinch, most high proof alcohols can sterilize a wound- as can lime and diluted bleach." She wasn't sure what piped her to begin talking- perhaps having someone to talk to helped her focus. The forceps pulled back delicately to further reveal the interior of the fake wound. "Dental floss can be used as a replacement for silk thread, but I wouldn't recommend any of the flavored kinds." She picked up the needle, threading it as she spoke, before steadying the forceps in her non-dominant hand to gently prepare the edges of the torn 'skin'. The needle slid easily into the silicon expy almost exactly half a centimeter away from the center of the cut and out the other end. She remained silent as she gently pulled the edges of the thread together not unlike tying a pair of shoes, making sure to triple knot the silk with the steel instrument as an aid. "One of the most important things to remember, however..." Snip. The excess, severed suture was pulled away. "Tying sutures too tightly can kill the tissue." [break][break]
She let silence follow the comment, taking a quick peek at the scar on his hand. "Intermittent sutures are what we're doing now. Normally we'd have a needle driver, but..." -another stitch was gently threaded as she continued speaking- "They're not strictly necessary. I suppose we're only learning to keep a wound together long enough for us to make our way back to more experienced medical care." The disappointment rang audibly through her voice. In theory, some medical schools practiced their techniques on cadavers, but she doubted she'd be allowed one. Her scholarship was research-based, and although the medicine was helpful it wasn't what she was here to do. Pity.
[attr="class","lumentemp"] "Of course." [break][break] Well, at least she seemed sure of herself. [break][break] And she was. The pinkette, for better or worse, was exactly what Lumen had expected of her, a king of one-minded assurance. She started talking, however, and nothing seemed to stop her. So, Lumen let her talk, and she seemed content with doing her suture and stitches without much help or guidance like she had done this type of thing before and was relatively comfortable doing it. [break][break] Lumen listened. In a way, he didn’t mind listening to people talk, especially when it seemed they had a lot of informative things to say. With his shoulders relaxed and his head a bit tilted, he did blink a few times at the mentioning of dental floss as a substitute for the silk. He found it a bit odd, but in a pinch, one could never really complain. She was right. At least, she wasn’t wrong. [break][break] “Uh, yeah.” He nodded with her conclusion that the rudimentary skill level and requirements of their task were quote ‘just enough.’ This was an introductory first aid course. The students in the class weren’t expected to be medical experts except perhaps the few that had made it their priority. He could guess that Valentine was one of them, but he wasn’t quite sure in the end. They were probably only paired together because of the coincidence regarding Valley and Varden being somewhat alphabetically close. [break][break] “You’re pretty good at this.” And he meant it, genuinely, even if it sounded like he was only saying things to fill the space between them. [break][break] Maybe that was true too. [break][break] Because she looked at his scarred hand, and perhaps because it had been brought to attention at all, he turned it over. The scars had left their mark crossing his thumb to his first finger, where the digits met the larger part of the hand. “Fishing accident,” He explained simply. [break][break] “Piranhas…” he quietly added, looking slightly away. [break][break] Without much other discussion, he too broke open one of the alcohol wipes and started working on the other fake wound. His handling of the tools wasn’t as deliberate as Valentine’s, but he could begin the threading without much trouble or need for direction. [break][break] [break]