[ Gently, she presses rolled up fabric into his mouth, for him to bite down on. Yes, it's best if she does—
But the ensuing sounds of the horde and their companions still fighting wherever they may be suggest otherwise, and Shoko's mind races while it cobbles together a plan. No— no time for a sedation, it'll take him too long to come back to, just barely enough time for a local anesthetic that she knows won't be strong enough to dull this, and they'll need him back on his feet so they can get the hell out of here—
Pulling on gloves, Shoko next reaches for the tourniquet, carefully wrapping it around his arm, where it's not yet been affected by the bite. ]
You're right. We don't. Shit. We don't. Just... keep breathing, okay? I'll make it quick. I've got you, Gojo. I've got you...
[ ... ... ...
Gojo has seen Shoko work before. He should know that, while her demeanor may be more animated and spirited in class and outside of it, it can also be incredibly, almost eerily calm, and nowhere does that come through most than when Shoko is in front of a patient. For however singsong her voice may sound, now it is steady, anchored as she talks him through every hurried, horrible step, so he knows what's happening, so he has her voice to use as a tether while she severs a part of his arm. And it remains steady, through every awful sound of his pain, of flesh and bone coming apart, and all else she must contend with after, even if - as a small blessing - she can heal some of the wound shut before cleaning and dressing it.
... ... ...
Shoko can feel the way her body is running entirely on adrenaline. This has taken more out of her than she rightly even realizes in the moment. But she knows, above all else, that no one is in more pain than the two who were bitten. ]
no subject
But the ensuing sounds of the horde and their companions still fighting wherever they may be suggest otherwise, and Shoko's mind races while it cobbles together a plan. No— no time for a sedation, it'll take him too long to come back to, just barely enough time for a local anesthetic that she knows won't be strong enough to dull this, and they'll need him back on his feet so they can get the hell out of here—
Pulling on gloves, Shoko next reaches for the tourniquet, carefully wrapping it around his arm, where it's not yet been affected by the bite. ]
You're right. We don't. Shit. We don't. Just... keep breathing, okay? I'll make it quick. I've got you, Gojo. I've got you...
[ ... ... ...
Gojo has seen Shoko work before. He should know that, while her demeanor may be more animated and spirited in class and outside of it, it can also be incredibly, almost eerily calm, and nowhere does that come through most than when Shoko is in front of a patient. For however singsong her voice may sound, now it is steady, anchored as she talks him through every hurried, horrible step, so he knows what's happening, so he has her voice to use as a tether while she severs a part of his arm. And it remains steady, through every awful sound of his pain, of flesh and bone coming apart, and all else she must contend with after, even if - as a small blessing - she can heal some of the wound shut before cleaning and dressing it.
... ... ...
Shoko can feel the way her body is running entirely on adrenaline. This has taken more out of her than she rightly even realizes in the moment. But she knows, above all else, that no one is in more pain than the two who were bitten. ]
...It's done.