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Entry tags:
Memory: Dying
Source: Roleplay (Polychromatic)
Time: Year 2 (age ~nineteen)
CW: Death (not graphic)
Pavel is lying on a hospital bed, still and pale. A pretty blonde is by his side, awake and curled up uncomfortably in a chair. Her fingers are interlaced with his and she looks as though she's been crying.
Nyota Uhura, expression grim, enters. There are some words exchanged, but it's impossible to make them out. Nyota stoops to hug the blonde before pulling up a chair of her own. More talking, then the Starfleet officer gets up and walks out.
Pavel's fingers twitch. The blonde is on her feet immediately, shouting something, trying to touch him without hurting him. Pavel tries to smile at her, but everything fades away before he can tell if he successfully reassured her.
The hospital bed returns and Pavel looks even worse than he did before. There's a man standing over him. He mutters something that registers as Russian. Not terribly good Russian.
The words (Russian) gain some clarity. "It's going to be rush hour at the hospital soon. This curse has left wounds everywhere."
Pavel croaks, possibly more to indicate that he's participating in this conversation than to say anything.
Nyota returns and does a double-take when she sees the man. The two exchange a few words (English) that drift in and out.
"You must be--"
"--he'd be glad--"
There's a pause. Nyota looks distraught.
Pavel isn't following, but he tries to say something. "Don't worry." (Russian.)
Nyota brushes past the man to hover over Pavel. "Pasha, shh," she says softly, brushing a curl from his forehead. She replies in Russian. "Don't try to talk. You--"
There's a noise--a klaxon? no--and Nyota's voice is barely audible. Not audible. She's gone.
Everything's gone.
Time: Year 2 (age ~nineteen)
CW: Death (not graphic)
Pavel is lying on a hospital bed, still and pale. A pretty blonde is by his side, awake and curled up uncomfortably in a chair. Her fingers are interlaced with his and she looks as though she's been crying.
Nyota Uhura, expression grim, enters. There are some words exchanged, but it's impossible to make them out. Nyota stoops to hug the blonde before pulling up a chair of her own. More talking, then the Starfleet officer gets up and walks out.
Pavel's fingers twitch. The blonde is on her feet immediately, shouting something, trying to touch him without hurting him. Pavel tries to smile at her, but everything fades away before he can tell if he successfully reassured her.
The hospital bed returns and Pavel looks even worse than he did before. There's a man standing over him. He mutters something that registers as Russian. Not terribly good Russian.
The words (Russian) gain some clarity. "It's going to be rush hour at the hospital soon. This curse has left wounds everywhere."
Pavel croaks, possibly more to indicate that he's participating in this conversation than to say anything.
Nyota returns and does a double-take when she sees the man. The two exchange a few words (English) that drift in and out.
"You must be--"
"--he'd be glad--"
There's a pause. Nyota looks distraught.
Pavel isn't following, but he tries to say something. "Don't worry." (Russian.)
Nyota brushes past the man to hover over Pavel. "Pasha, shh," she says softly, brushing a curl from his forehead. She replies in Russian. "Don't try to talk. You--"
There's a noise--a klaxon? no--and Nyota's voice is barely audible. Not audible. She's gone.
Everything's gone.