#jdsflk

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The world swirled gently around Ruby

Silence. The world was quiet. Where was she again?

Yes, she remember.

The accident.

Ruby's head slammed the dashboard, her body slamming back into the ruined seat, the seatbelts last requiem. Her mind was a haze. She couldn't think, couldn't hear, couldn't see. Her senses were overwhelming, every muscled ache. She fumbled with her seatbelt, before falling forward when it let her out. She let out a gasp, her head hurt, it throbbed she couldn't think. Was there people in the car with her? She crawled, her knees hurt, every sense was burning. She saw a bright blond first, his leg entangled underneath the seat. She knew him. She desperately screamed his named, but all she heard was a strangled gasp. Jaune. Jaune was his name. She pulled herself over and checked him. He was alive. He was a bit far from fine, but he was alive. The front seat. The floor was slanted, as though they were in a ditch. Maybe they were, who knows. She slowly made her way towards the front, feeling everything that grazed her skin. Ren. Where was he? A muffled cough sounded and when she scavenged, a magenta streaked boy was found, his eyes barely open, as though he was trying to look at the sun. He was alive as well, but the light seemed to fade as he closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling slowly. Who was there left? Who, who who. Her brain still hurt.

"Pyhhra." she strangled out. "PYHHRA" She couldn't find her. Where was she? Red liquid dripped down from the seat. She had to get them out. She dragged at Ren's seatbelt first. He was the most pallid, although she couldn't tell where he was bleeding. Certainly somewhere. Period blood. She let out a maniacal laugh. Oh shit she was losing it huh. She eased him slowly, the pain in her head ringing, and booted the door to the ground. Hm. It didn't open. Of course it didn't.

"Fuckingggggg dumbaaass." the side door was sealed, so she began a climb out the back. Fuck now what. Blondie was on the other side, and the door needed some banging. She let out another laugh. God dammit. She gently leaned against the mangled chair and kicked the door, the limp boy in her lap. Her pants were soaked slightly in blood.

"noww its period blooood." She let out another wheezing laugh, her brain throbbing. The door flung open, snapping off in the process. A metal clang was heard. Damn okay then. She pressed her foot against the more intact chair and pushed herself out, along with the bleeding boy. Bleeding? Bleeding. His ribs looked like they were in bad shape. Neat where's the blood coming from. "The glass u dummy tHE GLASS SHIT" the boy mumbled as if she was being to loud. She probably was. She lean back into the car, and gently tugged at the blond. He grunted. At least he wasn't screaming. She kicked the chair that was on his leg. The chair flew off. Was she that strong? Wait no there was a reason she did all those squats. Wait was there. She pulled the blond up through the hole, and pathetically threw him out, onto the dirt. Her brain wasn't working. The ground seemed to swim infront of her.

"Bro the ground is vibing. It'ssss doin backstrokes ss and shit." her words were blurring together. Was it doing that earlier? A grunt came from the truck in the ditch. What truck when truck. A tall woman slipped out, gripping her arm in a death grip, which seemed to have been completely detached from her body. Her leg was dragging in the ground, and she seemed to be more conscious then her, who was slowly but surely ready to faceplant and take a week long nap. Ruby's vision was blurry as her mind finally shut off.

If life was a strobe light fever dream, all she could hear was sirens. Who called the cops, what did she burn down. Her eyesight bleary looked at a person's whos mouth was definitely moving. Good for them. Them? They? She couldn't hear what they were saying. "wwhats ur pronouns" did she say that she couldn't tell. The person looked like they were about to cry, and instead gently shook there head as her eyes closed on its own.

Ah shit I never got to open up my model broadsword

"Ruby."

If I have time to write a will, Uncle Qrow can have it.

"R u b y"

It was a lifesized model of the buster sword as well god dammit.

"RUBY"

My muse is in the hospital, they will be recovering for a while, send "by your side till you heal" for my muse's reaction to opening their eyes and seeing your muse at their side...

The first thing Arthur became aware of was the scent of anti-sceptic. It was an acrid smell, filling his nostrils, and stinging the back of his eyes. He could taste it at the back of his throat, and as he ran his tongue around his mouth, he could feel the unmistakable grogginess surging over him, like a wave crashing onto the shore. The narcotics had brought him a deep sleep, one that had awoken him without the need of open eyes. Upon raising his lids, he could feel the blatant sting of bruised flesh, the movement of which causing him to indulge in a sharp intake of breath. The light around him was blatantly artificial, so bright his head began to throb, his brain pulsing in his skull. Everything hurt, but as his eyes adjusted to the harsh light around him, he realised that he was not alone. At his bedside, was a figure. Not a doctor, nor a nurse, nor even an orderly — it was a familiar face, with features Arthur had frequently admired. The jawline especially… “Percy,” he whispered, his voice something of a croak, the words scratching at his throat as they emerged. “What are you doing here? I —… What’s going on?”

He's drifting in a sort of half-sleep, kept partly awake by the uneasy vividness of his anxious dreams and the watery hospital coffee that's been his only fuel. At first, he thinks the voice just another whisper from his subconscious, but then his eyes drift open to find Arthur's own focused blearily on him.

He sits forward abruptly, and finds that his left leg is littered with the prickling hot-cold sensation that comes from sitting too-long in an uncomfortable plastic chair designed for someone much smaller than he is. He wobbles, lets out a half breath of laughter as he rights himself with his hands against the bed.

"God, it's good to hear your voice," he says, and the grin on his face is pure relief. "You absolute twat." He shakes his head a little.