nurselead. Independent, private, mutuals only roleplay blog for Dana Evans from HBO's the Pitt. Lead by Mars. Rules below the cut.

headcanons • prompts

Jack Abbot side blog: @swatphysician.

Nurse OC side blog: @lockedfinn

It was dark, and Dana knew Princess was more than capable of finding her way home, but it wasn't Princess that she had her doubts about. Her own nose occasionally twitched at the memory of Driscoll's fist, and she had no doubt that Princess could recall several similar occasions too.

"C'mon now. I know there are a lot of codes we gotta remember, but an important one is that we stick together. I'll walk with you," she said, slipping her arm into the sleeve of her denim jacket.

She could ask Benji to pick her up, bribe him with a nice burger from the Smash Shack to make up for dragging him from the comfort of his couch. Either way, there was no way in hell she was letting Princess walk these streets alone.

"Keep up with what, all the patients? You're going to need a time machine for that," she replied with a slight quirk of her lip, stepping closer to Emma and giving her a gentle nudge in the direction of the staff room.

It had been a hectic morning and the patients were still piling up. Usually by now she'd have slipped off for a quick smoke, but she'd promised Benji, and herself, that she'd stay off them. So coffee would have to do.

Better for Emma anyway, but mostly she just wanted to give the girl a break. The poor graduate had been thrown into the thick of it from day one, and with each passing day of the heatwave came more and more patients pouring through the doors. The kid deserved a rest.

[ repost , do not reblog ]

FULL NAME: Dana Evans

OCCUPATION: Charge Nurse of the Emergency Department at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.

AGE: Late 50s.

HEIGHT: 5′ 4.5″ (1.64 m)

GENDER: Cis Female

SEXUALITY: Straight, but does appreciate beautiful women

CURRENT LOCATION: Pittsburg, Pennsylvania USA

ETHNICITY: Caucasian, with European ancestry (likely Welsh and Dutch if she ever looked into it).

DOB: That's rude to ask a lady.

PARENTS: Lost her mother at 16, but her father is still around.

CHILDREN: Two daughters, who still cause her worry.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married to her husband Benji.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, and a few swears gathered from other languages. Good to have, just in case.

RELIGION: Catholic.

SCENT: S1: Cigarette smoke, coffee, Dove deodorant, the scent changes depending on whatever one is on sale. S2: Swap the cigarette to peppermint.

ATHLETICS: Running around the department. Walks.

BODY TYPE: Living?

EYES: Brown, slightly hazel.

TATTOOS: None.

PIERCINGS: Gold hooped earrings.

SOCIAL MEDIA: Facebook.

SMOKING: S1: Yes. S2: Quitting.

DRINKING: Few beers or a glass of wine. Sometimes something stronger, where she leans into liqueur like Tia Maria.

HOBBIES: Walks, watching shitty TV, reading, and the newspaper crossword puzzle.

VIRGIN: Ha!

FAVOURITE COLOR: Gold and blues.

FAVOURITE DRINK: Coffee.

FAVOURITE FOOD: Italian.

FAVOURITE MUSIC: Pop music from before 2000.

CLOTHING STYLE: Plain clothing. Comfort over fashion.

TAGGED BY YOINKED FROM: @pittmngr

"And that is exactly why I worry."

Dana glanced over, spotting Robby in the distance before turning back to Stix. Stix was a nice man, a gentle soul, but unfortunately his presence in the department often came after the loss of a patient. She wondered if he knew the others had given him the nickname the Grim Reaper. Kind of cruel, and not entirely accurate... even if it was a little funny. Stix didn't kill those people, if anything, he was there to give them dignity and closure after their death.

Thankfully this visit wasn't accompanied by the loss of anyone, just a coffee and a chat, and it seemed they both shared similar concerns.

Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall, it was already past nine PM. God, how she hated that clock some evenings. The ticking was impossible to hear over the chaos of the ward, but just looking at it, watching the seconds tick by, she could imagine the sound well enough.

But then Robby's words pierced through the noise and rendered the world around her silent. Over the past while, he had said more and more things that only hammered her worries home. She had tried prodding, pushing, even cornering him, but nothing seemed to work. The worry was eating her alive, and she was running low on nicotine to stay sane. In fact, there wasn't enough of it in the world to calm her nerves about whatever Robby was planning in that brilliant but complex mind of his.

So when he said that, it gave her hope and broke her heart in the same breath. The question seemed to her like a cry for help, and Dana would be a terrible nurse if she didn't answer it.

The options for her brief respite were fresh air or coffee. The freshness of the air outside was debatable, but it meant less of a chance that someone would spot her and ruin her five minutes of peace. She should have known, though, from the moment she clocked in, that peace was a rare luxury in this hospital. So she took what she could get.

It was nice to see Langdon by the doors, but there was something off about his posture. She didn't need a doctorate in psychology to know that something was wrong with him. And as it happened, there were no other ears around, granting them a private conversation.

"Of course you're okay, but I mean, aren't we all a little sad? We work here, after all. If you weren't, I'd think there was something seriously wrong with you." She offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Naturally, she worried about him. She wasn't blind to what had been happening behind the scenes with him and Robby -- things she had quietly pieced together from context and sought no confirmation of. Better not to know, in situations like these. But that didn't take away from the fact that she could clearly see Langdon struggling with his own personal demons. Everyone was, but in the end they were a team, and a team had to pull each other back to their feet.

Hand her a vape only if you want it chucked in the bin.