redvstheblue:

askendruncolton:

redvstheblue:

Since arriving back at camp, her almost lifeless body was rushed to the medical ward and placed in one of the many beds. She was unconscious during it all: being hurried to the ward, set in the bed, her clothes coming off and bloody bandages unraveled, being put into a fresh gown, the multiple needles and IVs inserted into her veins to keep her alive. She couldn’t feel the burning pain in her blood, or her back anymore. It wasn’t even pain, it was just a numbing feeling. The poison had almost killed her, any longer, and the antidote wouldn’t have been effective.

The nurses hooked up a blood pack to her veins, giving her more blood that she lost. The nurses cleaned her up as best they could, cleaning and disinfecting her back, the numerous gashes and healing scars that had been left on her white skin, the scars that Colton would have barged in to see: the scars that Eva never wanted anyone to know about.

Although of course, she had no idea of it.

When the poison was finally healed from multiple antidotes and multiple cleanings of her wounds, they bandaged her up— back and forehead —then left her alone to rest. It had been multiple hours since sunrise when they arrived, herself and the Cossack, and it wouldn’t be until evening that she would wake up.

She slept soundly on the hospital bed. She was on her back, even though she was bruised and bloody back there, the nurses knew she would sleep the best in that position. For the first time in over a week, the bed was comfortable, she had a think blanket, she was in clean clothes, her wounds were properly cleaned, and she was in a bright room. And luckily for the redhead, she had been knocked out so hard from the poison that she had a dreamless sleep. Finally, no nightmares to interrupt her resting.

The first thing she heard was the faint shick, shick, shick, of a dull knife swiping away at something. Something hard, something wet? Probably food. She didn’t hear heavy footsteps, or feel cold or sore. Well, that was a lie. She was rather sore, however she hadn’t had a chance to move and realize that she was.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she stared at the ceiling, watching the slow rotating ceiling fan stare down at her in the bright room. A few moments later, she finally noticed the man sitting in a seat next to her bed. She blink heavily, then very slowly turned her head a bit. She felt the muscles in her neck strain in pain, and she let out a small groan.

It was Colton. Colton was there at the side of her bed. If she was alive and awake, then her heart would have fluttered, but in her current state of healing, her heart had more important matters than fluttering at the sight of someone who she didn’t even know had returning feelings for her. She opened her mouth slowly to call his name, her eyes heavy and closing for a moment.

Her mouth soon followed. Her throat was dry, very scratchy. The only sound she managed was a weak grunt from the back of her throat.

For what seemed like aeons  his ears had grown accustomed to the soft background noise of the medical word. The tiny moan that escaped Eva’s mouth was like an alarm that woke him up from the half-life he was living.

Read More

Eva forced her heavy eyes open once when she heard the man’s voice. There was another sound before it, a thud, but her head hurt too much to try and think much about it. She could feel something around her head, wrapped a little above her forehead. She didn’t dare move the rest of her body, knowing that if there were any traces of poison left, that she would be in tremendous amounts of pain.

She watched the man with heavy eyes, looking at his face, into his hazel eyes. She had missed them so much, and she had missed his voice, his face, his huge arms, his soft hands, his laugh, his smile… He was so handsome. It only took her to be away and desperate for over a week to realize just how handsome and important he was to her. His face was always so clean-shaven and his eyes were always so gentle. But now, they were neither. His eyes had lines under them as if he hadn’t slept in a week (his must have matched her’s then), and he had let himself grow stubble. That was a first. He normally shaved twice a day (so she would always tease him about).

She felt the corners of her mouth tug weakly, wanting to smile as they did. She opened her mouth again, but this time managed a word.

“Closer…”

He did as bade, without hesitation. He hovered over Eva, face inches from hers. For a terrible moment, he thought that she was dying, that these would be here last words. He strained to hear her. Colton could hear every breath, every heart beat.

He stared at her, waiting. He swallowed, leaving his mouth unbearably dry. “What is it, Eva?” He asked. Arceus, he could say her name a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough.

redvstheblue:

askendruncolton:

Colton had always checked the Air Force roster for Eva’s name, and as sure as the sun would rise, he would see her name. He had little doubt of course. She was smart and capable, one of the strongest women he knew. She would always come back, and he would always be waiting. 

Three letters. It took three letters for his world to come crashing down around him. Three letters that crushed him. Three letters that made him question if the sun would ever rise again. Three letters beside her name.

M.I.A.

He had stormed into the Captain’s quarters, demanded they let him go after her. It only took a sharp look from Sergeant Alvand to put him in his place, to tell him to go back to the kitchens. To tell him he was useless.

It was torture. He had no idea if she was alive or dead. Some days his mind would wander and he would think of what horrific things were being done to her. Some days he hoped, for her sake, that she was dead. But only until he remembered how strong she was, how she wasn’t like him. How Eva could take everything that they threw at her. He knew that if she was alive, she would find a way home. And he would be there waiting. 

He didn’t sleep the night of the raid on the Whirl Island Prison. He wanted to be there on the tarmac when she landed. His heart sank with every plane that landed without her. It must have been at the bottom of the ocean when Pip returned, her psychic pokemon having found no sign of his Eva. She flew back, and he returned to his quarters, trying hard not to think of her lifeless body across the sea.

It was early in the morning when elated shouts awoke him from his fitful sleep, they had turned to shouts of alarm by the time he was out the door. Word spread across camp: Eva was back. He ran to the med tent faster than he thought possible, stumbling over his own legs. He met resistance at the tent’s opening, but the nurses could not stop his momentum, they would not stop him from seeing her.

The morning light filtered through the canvas tent, illuminating a pale body, spattered with freckles. Locks of red hair absorbed the sun and shone like spun gold. For a moment, it was the most beautiful sight in the world. Until he realized that the freckles were also accompanied by a spattering of blood, and that her hair hid bruises that spanned her shoulders.

It took eight letters this time. Eight letters to bring him to his knees. Eight letters for him to lose all the fight in his heart and to have him dragged out of the med tent. Eight letters carved into Eva’s back, a grotesque map of open wounds. Eight letters that marred her perfect body, eight letters he could have prevented had he been a stronger man.

There was some speculation whether or not Eva would make it. But Colton knew better, he knew that she was stronger than any poison or wound. He wasn’t there to bring her home, so he vowed he would at least be there when she would wake up. He dragged all the kitchen work that he could into the med tent, much to the chagrin of the nurses. He would do all the prep that he could, leaving the KPs to finish off everything else under the careful supervision of Sioux. He hadn’t shaved, he’d barely slept. The only thing that kept him awake was the occasional bite of the paring knife as he nodded off while peeling potatoes. All the while sitting by her side.

Since arriving back at camp, her almost lifeless body was rushed to the medical ward and placed in one of the many beds. She was unconscious during it all: being hurried to the ward, set in the bed, her clothes coming off and bloody bandages unraveled, being put into a fresh gown, the multiple needles and IVs inserted into her veins to keep her alive. She couldn’t feel the burning pain in her blood, or her back anymore. It wasn’t even pain, it was just a numbing feeling. The poison had almost killed her, any longer, and the antidote wouldn’t have been effective.

The nurses hooked up a blood pack to her veins, giving her more blood that she lost. The nurses cleaned her up as best they could, cleaning and disinfecting her back, the numerous gashes and healing scars that had been left on her white skin, the scars that Colton would have barged in to see: the scars that Eva never wanted anyone to know about.

Although of course, she had no idea of it.

When the poison was finally healed from multiple antidotes and multiple cleanings of her wounds, they bandaged her up— back and forehead —then left her alone to rest. It had been multiple hours since sunrise when they arrived, herself and the Cossack, and it wouldn’t be until evening that she would wake up.

She slept soundly on the hospital bed. She was on her back, even though she was bruised and bloody back there, the nurses knew she would sleep the best in that position. For the first time in over a week, the bed was comfortable, she had a think blanket, she was in clean clothes, her wounds were properly cleaned, and she was in a bright room. And luckily for the redhead, she had been knocked out so hard from the poison that she had a dreamless sleep. Finally, no nightmares to interrupt her resting.

The first thing she heard was the faint shick, shick, shick, of a dull knife swiping away at something. Something hard, something wet? Probably food. She didn’t hear heavy footsteps, or feel cold or sore. Well, that was a lie. She was rather sore, however she hadn’t had a chance to move and realize that she was.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she stared at the ceiling, watching the slow rotating ceiling fan stare down at her in the bright room. A few moments later, she finally noticed the man sitting in a seat next to her bed. She blink heavily, then very slowly turned her head a bit. She felt the muscles in her neck strain in pain, and she let out a small groan.

It was Colton. Colton was there at the side of her bed. If she was alive and awake, then her heart would have fluttered, but in her current state of healing, her heart had more important matters than fluttering at the sight of someone who she didn’t even know had returning feelings for her. She opened her mouth slowly to call his name, her eyes heavy and closing for a moment.

Her mouth soon followed. Her throat was dry, very scratchy. The only sound she managed was a weak grunt from the back of her throat.

For what seemed like aeons  his ears had grown accustomed to the soft background noise of the medical word. The tiny moan that escaped Eva’s mouth was like an alarm that woke him up from the half-life he was living.

Read More

Colton had always checked the Air Force roster for Eva’s name, and as sure as the sun would rise, he would see her name. He had little doubt of course. She was smart and capable, one of the strongest women he knew. She would always come back, and he would always be waiting. 

Three letters. It took three letters for his world to come crashing down around him. Three letters that crushed him. Three letters that made him question if the sun would ever rise again. Three letters beside her name.

M.I.A.

He had stormed into the Captain’s quarters, demanded they let him go after her. It only took a sharp look from Sergeant Alvand to put him in his place, to tell him to go back to the kitchens. To tell him he was useless.

It was torture. He had no idea if she was alive or dead. Some days his mind would wander and he would think of what horrific things were being done to her. Some days he hoped, for her sake, that she was dead. But only until he remembered how strong she was, how she wasn’t like him. How Eva could take everything that they threw at her. He knew that if she was alive, she would find a way home. And he would be there waiting. 

He didn’t sleep the night of the raid on the Whirl Island Prison. He wanted to be there on the tarmac when she landed. His heart sank with every plane that landed without her. It must have been at the bottom of the ocean when Pip returned, her psychic pokemon having found no sign of his Eva. She flew back, and he returned to his quarters, trying hard not to think of her lifeless body across the sea.

It was early in the morning when elated shouts awoke him from his fitful sleep, they had turned to shouts of alarm by the time he was out the door. Word spread across camp: Eva was back. He ran to the med tent faster than he thought possible, stumbling over his own legs. He met resistance at the tent’s opening, but the nurses could not stop his momentum, they would not stop him from seeing her.

The morning light filtered through the canvas tent, illuminating a pale body, spattered with freckles. Locks of red hair absorbed the sun and shone like spun gold. For a moment, it was the most beautiful sight in the world. Until he realized that the freckles were also accompanied by a spattering of blood, and that her hair hid bruises that spanned her shoulders.

It took eight letters this time. Eight letters to bring him to his knees. Eight letters for him to lose all the fight in his heart and to have him dragged out of the med tent. Eight letters carved into Eva’s back, a grotesque map of open wounds. Eight letters that marred her perfect body, eight letters he could have prevented had he been a stronger man.

There was some speculation whether or not Eva would make it. But Colton knew better, he knew that she was stronger than any poison or wound. He wasn’t there to bring her home, so he vowed he would at least be there when she would wake up. He dragged all the kitchen work that he could into the med tent, much to the chagrin of the nurses. He would do all the prep that he could, leaving the KPs to finish off everything else under the careful supervision of Sioux. He hadn’t shaved, he’d barely slept. The only thing that kept him awake was the occasional bite of the paring knife as he nodded off while peeling potatoes. All the while sitting by her side.

((ahaha I thought I had time to devote to endrun I wAS SO WRONG

Just working two jobs and school on top of that is killing me, hopefully after this weekend I’ll be caught up and on track!

UNTIL THEN HAVE COLTON PATOOTIE.

ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVA I KNOW I’M LIKE AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE FOR THE DAY SHHH))

thatangryitalian:

nurseandrunawayfabray:

8D

[[why not. Will answer after done replying to this RP and researching Italian culture because damn you Talon :V <3]]

((Ahh I’m back! Sorry for the inactivity, I kind of messed up royally last year at school and I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Just trying to figure out a good balance of school/work/art and internet related things.

BUT I HEARD I MISSED OUT ON COOL STUFF SO DISHONOUR ON ME AND MY COW))

((Sorry for being inactive, just been a little busy and introverted c:

Something happened today so I thought I’d share it with all y’all. I work at a superstore’s bakery and I went in the back to see how many cake orders I’d have to hand out tonight. I saw one cake and written across the top was, “Happy 95th Birthday Fly Boy”. He would have been 23 during the war. 

I feel like End Run has given me a new appreciation for veterans, considering the research I’ve done and the thought I’ve put into it. I got really emotional, and I just wished I could see the man and thank him.

Anyways, that’s my story for tonight! I hope all our chars live to see the 2000’s c:))

If y’all ((IC or OOC)) have any questions regardin’ a recipe ye wanna try out, somethin’ y’all don’t quite understand in the kitchen, or jus’ wanna learn some a’ my cookin’ secrets drop me a line! Ah’m always glad t’help.

mechanical-hearts-and-whiskey:

ask-my-swords:

[I’m ass with words right now.  For someone wonderful.]

VITA SHUCKLE. Aw yis.

Don’t fuckle with shuckle

((EUGH FEELS))