watch the hospital that's just across the street ━ sick

[arrow]

I GRIEVE IN STEREO, THE STEREO SOUNDS STRANGE.
Well, sickness was no fun for anyone. Especially not for someone who hated the idea of someone knowing that she was anything other than healthy and fine, the horror. It was a crime, she'd rather sit on a cactus. Unfortunately, hiding the fact she was currently very sick didn't heal her, nor did it mean it just wasn't there. Arrow was in fact very sick and hadn't seen a medic since Delilah was officially announced dead. Not that she didn't like anyone trying to help or that she didn't trust them, Flower Girl just didn't give her a choice. Sniffed out her problems like a damn bloodhound, kept her all wrapped up in bandages when she got her ass fucking maimed. It was nice. But no, that was past. A long time ago, arguably. Ever since her personal nurse was lost to time, she'd gone right back to her nasty ability to avoid any and all medical check ups. How? Well, it was a simple, fool proof plan. She just hid inside her own place for however long it took to wait out the major symptoms, then play it cool. Say it was a stomach bug or hangover, nothing too big or whatever.

But lately she'd been hiding out a long longer than usual, she had gotten real sick this time. Could have been something small and just fucked her immune system into the dirt, that was a pretty likely guess. Couldn't keep a whole lot down, that was gonna kill her weight if it didn't go the fuck away. Her stomach hurt, her throat stung, she felt like death. But would Arrow get her ass up and see someone who could maybe treat her? Of course not! Nah, she pushed on with a steady diet of enough food to feed a kitten and some water, hoping it all passed and left her alone. She was coming up on longer than a week, two, maybe, and it was holding fast. Got worse, even. Well, she'd gotten a short break from it, probably shouldn't have volunteered to do any shit.

Arrow had gone to bed after the sparring, feeling sick again and thinking maybe she'd pushed herself again, and had fucking crashed the entire time up to now, where she was willing to step outside again for some fresh air. It felt way too hot inside, and she couldn't stay comfortable enough to lay around. Granted, she couldn't tell if it was the actual heat or her body raising the temperature to deal with the problem at hand, like some sort of raging infection or something. She didn't actually know how being sick worked.

A heavy wave of nausea struck her mid-thought, and she doubled over in an uncharacteristic display of pain, a series of weak coughs and dry heaving splitting the silence she had attempted to keep in order to not draw any attention to herself. That would have been bad enough, but she swore and spat at sounding so weak in the process. She ran her tongue over her teeth and cringed at the nasty taste left behind from what she assumed was the stomach bug. A gross and unladylike heathen at heart, Arrow spat out the acidic saliva and hissed, finding something else remained on her tongue, something new. Something...wrong. More unsettling than puking your guts up every other day. None of those times had ever left her with a metallic aftertaste. That was new.

Wiping the side of her jaw with a paw, green eyes narrowed at the unusually slick feeling, and she stared down at what she had wiped off, or in reality had smeared over her cheek. It was dark, almost black against her fur. She squinted, more dark dots catching her eye on the ground below. There was a small trail towards her, scattered specks gradually increasing in size the closer they got.

Now, there were few things Arrow know well. Things like making stupid decisions, alcohol, and blood.

This was fucking blood.

And no shortage of it, either. It was everywhere. She'd hacked up blood.

"H-Hey? I, uh....I need help..."

// tl;dr: arrow got sick a while ago and told no one and is now coughing up blood outside

[toboggan]

It would be a little white lie if Leroy were to say that his own mental health was in tip-top shape. Ever since that little event - which Beck apparently identified as a stroke - occurred, the guardsman’s condition deteriorated at a heightened pace. Before, he could feel the energy pulsing through his limbs, his life force slithering between muscles - now, the legs which he stood on felt as though they’d give out without any forewarning. In addition to that, his heart was as frail as a flake of snow, and the eyesight in his right eye was worsening by the week. At least nobody had seemed to notice it; or, at least he thought that nobody was noticing it.

Whatever the mongrel was currently trying to achieve, it had lead him by the Arrow’s dwelling. If it weren’t for the hacking figure at the foot of her hut, he would have waltzed on past without looking back. As soon as the Captain of the Guard came into view, the wolfhound altered his destination to fit Arrow’s whereabouts.

He came to a halt about a metre away from the feline, for the hound wished not to catch whatever ailed his companion. Seating himself on the Earth’s lukewarm surface, he glared sombrely at his sickened friend. "Ya don't look so hot, Arrow," Leroy mouthed in a blunt, obvious manner, "need me to fetch ya some water?".

[RED]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]If the question here was how much vomit constituted being really, really sick, Arrow took the cake. Or the Pepto Bismol, maybe.

The place stinks - more so than usual - and out of a faint, irritated curiosity as to who spilled their guts out one end or another in the middle of camp, Red finds himself staring at a half-collapsed feline and an equally confused peer. She's hurt, he first considers, and his initial annoyance fades - but then he puts the pieces together and realizes Arrow is the source of that acrid smell that taints the air. His expression falls into something more sympathetic.

Their clanmate says something distantly, a comment about her appearance. Unnecessary, maybe, but since he doesn't know Leroy by name he figures he'll call him Captain Obvious until further notice. He looks at canine with a fairly solid are-you-kidding-me expression. A sneer, a squint, the whole works. Of course she needed some water, she looked like she was about to spontaneously combust. "Bet."

When Red approaches Arrow he's careful, one hand extended to offer her some balance. They hadn't met before. This wasn't exactly a perfect circumstance, but he supposed it was better now than later, considering her deteriorating condition. He hoped she wasn't too put off by his sudden appearance, but it wasn't the time for exchanging names and backstories. "That's got to be internal bleeding, something like that. Ick."

Red glances at the sickly pile, lip pulling to the side in mild disgust. It was dark, almost congealed, which wasn't a good sign by most medical standards - then again, he'd seen worse. It was probably cancer or something terrible along those lines, but he wasn't going to just tell her that. If she was lucky, with the kind of medicine they handed to people out here in the sticks, she had a few weeks left. A month was a miracle by his guess. But considering the weird magic that flowed in the veins of particular individuals, there was a reasonable chance that Arrow would be cured by some strange means.

(They could transfer all of the illness onto a bug or something. He wasn't really sure how all of that worked, he just went with it.)

But everything aside, she was still here, still sick, and she needed a medic as soon as they could find her one. With the same hand, he reaches gently to touch her temple, should she allow the contact. He can feel the abnormal warmth radiating off of her body regardless. He squats down and pats the dirt at his side, a mild encouragement. "Come on, sit down, you're burning up. Let's get you cleaned up, ok?"

[arrow]

I GRIEVE IN STEREO, THE STEREO SOUNDS STRANGE.
"I can't keep it down." Arrow shook her head at Leroy's water offer, glad to have some company in her current state, even if it was him just watching her spill her guts. Not exactly a great time for either of them, but it was better than being alone. She snapped her teeth at nothing in particular, spitting some blood tainted saliva into the undergrowth. It just kept coming up it felt like, she couldn't get the taste out no matter how much she tried, if she could try. She was pretty weak as it was, there was no energy left to rinse it all out. Ew.

She'd never met Red, that was true. Normally she'd never be so...vulnerable in front of a stranger, but each passing minute brought more deterioration and a lot more pain. It had congregated in her abdomen, and her first thought was it was just her stomach. Maybe she irritated it with all the sickness. Maybe the blood had something to do with it. In the haze of her borderline agony, the physical contact was heaven sent. She took the hand offered, trying to keep her balance. "Internal...oh shit." She looked down, taking a moment to let it actually click. Was she gonna die?

Arrow sat down where she was told, eyes glassy, swaying back and forth a little bit. She barely felt the touch to her temple, it just felt like...heat. Something vague. She must have leaned into the touch, because seconds later she went down. Face down into the dirt with a quiet groan. Her side spasmed, and there was another series of gross coughs and hacking, but with more audible struggling and more, well, blood. A lot more. Her chin was more than covered, her jaw was stained in the dark, viscous liquid. "Ouch." She muttered, kicking her back leg a bit as if she was making some poor attempt to get back onto her paws. Or maybe she'd just take a nap right here. 

[selby roux !]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby had been just outside his home when he heard a cry for help. To be safe, he quickly grabbed a small bag of medical supplies and headed off towards the direction of the cry, and within a few minutes, he was there.

He was greeted by the sharp, metallic smell of blood, coupled with the acrid scent of bile. His brain short circuited for a moment, not knowing what to do. Despite a broad knowledge of herbs and medicine, his actual experience with treating wounds and injury was sparse at best. Selby took a deep breath and came close to Arrow, quickly running through what to do.

Arrow had a fever. Lavender helped with that. If she was throwing up... chamomile and marigold? Selby had no idea what to do for that. He pulled the items out of the bag and offered them to Arrow. "This should help with the vomiting and the fever. Take them and wait a bit, and we’ll figure out where to go from there, alright?Also, you should try and sip the water. If you drink it slowly, it won’t upset your stomach as much," he said, trying not to let his nervousness show. He didn’t need to freak out Arrow or anyone.

[wormwood.]

[glow=#000,1,400]BUT NOW I UNDERSTAND YOU, AND I WILL NOT BE PART OF YOUR DESIGNS — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

While Wormwood was far from a medical expert, he did have a lot of experience with taking care of the sick, thanks to the fact that his brother had been sick ever since they were young pups, and when their parents weren't around to take care of him, Worm had been forced to hold his pieces together. However, all that Poetking's sickness entailed was fainting spells and dizziness, and a general weakness about him. It did not, thankfully, involve any vomiting up of blood. If it ever had, Worm probably would've never left his side at all, even when Poet snuck off against their parents' wishes to go and do something "fun".

Wormwood had only ever seen someone vomit blood twice. Once was after a particularly vicious fight in the pride, which had ended with one of the fighters taking a particularly enraged slash and kick to the guts. The lion had ended up vomiting blood for several minutes, one of his internal organs ending up slashed inside. The other time had been when one of the elders of the pride had been dying of a plague. In his last few days, he had done nothing but lay around lethargically, coughing and collapsing, and vomiting up the thick red liquid like he had an endless supply of it, before he eventually ended up passing. For Arrow's sake, Worm hoped it wasn't  like the second case. Sure, he didn't really know the others in the group too well yet, but he didn't wish a dragged out and painful sickness death on anyone except the worst of the worst.

Padding over slowly, the lion blinked his calm blue eyes before sitting down outside the range of the blood, looking down for a moment before speaking, [glow=#793B29,1,400]"Have you been in any serious fights lately?"[/glow] If she had, then it could just be a simple case of internal bleeding, but that was honestly the best case scenario. He briefly considered whether or not he should introduce himself, but he doubted now was the time. Now, Arrow was probably more worried about herself than anybody else.

[arrow]

I GRIEVE IN STEREO, THE STEREO SOUNDS STRANGE.
Herbs, medical shit, that’s what she was waiting for. It was about time, not that she was mad. It would have been easier on them if she had gotten up and somewhere they could deal with her sooner, while she had the time and strength. But she did not, and laying on the ground like an actual corpse was not a good look when they finally found her.

Arrow looked up, lifting her head, the only thing she had the strength left to pick up. ”Selby…?” She let out a soft wheeze after the question, glassy green eyes showing nothing besides relief to see the nerdy specialist. The corner of her mouth twitched up into a smile, blood bubbling at her lip. Her vision wouldn’t focus anymore, but she knew it was him, and that was enough just to hear his voice. She chewed at the herbs he offered, all she tasted was the disgusting taste of iron. She needed the water, she was violently thirsty. Really, really dehydrated. She stretched out a paw to gently bap him on the shoulder. ”Hey kid, you’re a good kid. You’ve come real far. Tell Crow I said hi, okay?” Was she delirious? Absolutely. But she meant it. She was so relieved to see him, had he grown? Gotten bigger?

”Fights? No, no fights.” Arrow laid her head down again, one ear pressing against the ground. She quietly spat up more blood, slick and dark, full of black blood clots, like her very insides were liquidating. Somewhere in her soul she knew this was it. She was starting to go numb. At least she wasn’t hurting anymore.

”Leroy, mustache, hey…” She heaved up the rest of her insides . ”You’re like, my best friend, man. We should...we should hang with that jukebox again. You ‘member that? Box fell on you. Heh.” Her speech began to slur badly, it was a miracle she was still coherent at all. She closed her eyes. ”I’m really tired. Bed time for Arrow. Goodnight.” Arrow mumbled out in a sing song voice, letting herself go limp.

That was...it. She wasn’t waking up.

[selby roux !]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby began to relax a little as she chewed the herbs, but any ease he might have felt quickly vanished and turned to fear as she weakly touched his shoulder. "M’not a kid anymore," he protested weakly, voice quivering the slightest bit. "Tell him yourself. We gotta get you somewhere else."

As she threw up more blood, Selby quickly moved to find a pulse point. It grew steadily weaker as she addressed Leroy, and a pit of ice cold dread began to brew in his stomach. "C’mon Arrow, damn it!" he swore as her eyes slipped close. Though he never knew her well, any loss of any Tangler was bound to sting and burn for moons to come.

Selby could feel her pulse grow weaker until he could hardly feel it anymore. He didn’t know what to do, and dread turned to panic, spurring his limbs into motion as he attempted to rouse her again. Oh god oh god oh god I killed her this is on me I did this I killed her oh god oh god, he thought as her heart stilled and her pulse was no more. He backed away quickly, shaking his head.

"She’s gone," the supposed medic said, forcing himself to sound calmer and surer than he felt.

[RED]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]"God, no." He wonders if there is irony in his humble prayer. He stoops down and tries to pick her up, tries to lift her head in his wide hand but it feels like he is picking up the weight of a whole world to carry on his shoulders. It's her world, gone now. Hopes, spoken wishes, all lost to time and the inevitability of passing. He lets her head back down gently and, in that moment, comes to realize that there is nothing left to do for her. Arrow is dead in seconds. She bled and breathed and died, all before anyone could process how to save her - if there was even a way to do so.

Red is quiet, holding his breath because in this world things don't make sense - she'll jolt back to life with a gasp, her ghost will escape and haunt them, she'll come strolling back in a new form as if nothing happened. At least, those were the things he was accustomed to. But it stays quiet. She stays dead. He lowers his head a little, because looking at her half-open eyes and slack jaw feels wrong. He didn't even know her and she gave him the privilege of watching her die.

That's an honor, where he's from.

"Easy... Easy." Hellboy isn't sure what to do anymore, but Selby does, and she tries in utter desperation to revive her limp corpse. He reaches to rest his hand on her shoulder, to pull her back gently. Denial isn't worth the tome. He feels out of place here, but no less hurt; being a witness was worse than most made it out to be, it seemed. "Let's get her cleaned up. Lay her down somewhere else."

He looks around at the others, stifling how pathetic it feels when he says it out loud, "I'm... Sorry."

[Crow Roux]

[align=center][div style="width: 55%; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]
It seemed Crow was a tad bit late. As he watched the scene unfold from afar, his pace quickened until it developed into a stride. The bouncing of his paws across dirt and the sudden exertion caused his head to pound in his skull, but he would ignore that for now. He arrived as Arrow began to mumble incoherently to herself about jukeboxes, and his eyes nervously glanced across the ground. It was then that he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Blood. There was so, so much blood.

"H-hey, Arrow, I need you to stay with me, okay? You need to sta-ay awake," he spoke softly as he lowered himself to be at her eye level, reaching out a paw to prod her as she closed her eyes, but it would prove to be unavailing. He felt her relax and take her final breath under his touch, and his stomach dropped to his feet. Felt his head spin as a fog washed over him, felt his throat tighten. The feline opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out except for a singular, pitiful rasp. "F-fuck..."