Uptown girl

She's been living in her uptown world

I bet she's never had a backstreet guy

Emmaline was sure that there were always going to be things to teach them. Ways that they had to learn, and she knew that while she had learned from healers that had taught her to do things with her hands, there were times, in Trauma especially, where magic made a difference. It could mean the difference between life or death. So many times, she had poured over muggle cases, just reading them, and learning about them, and seeing all of the ways that stupid mages were going to get hurt trying to do muggle things that they had no business doing in the first place, and she could see where she would have done things differently.

She could see where a spell here or there, would have patched something that they hadn’t been able to see, and it would have stopped a bleeder that would have saved their lives. That was why she had become a healer, and that was why she had chosen Trauma. Yes, every specialty saved lives. Yes, they were all responsible for the patients in their hands. But she was a Trauma Healer. She got the worst of the worst, and she was a Surgeon. She handled the worst of the worst, and she thought that she was good at it.

They wouldn’t have made her Head of the ward if she weren’t the best in the building. But Emmaline thought that she had earned it. She thought that she was sensible, and educated, and she had made a name for herself as Emmaline Kingston. She had done it without the help that being an Avery would have given her or would have taken away from her. That had been the godsend. When they had pulled her in for questioning, because they most certainly had, she had had nothing to say. There was nothing that they could hold against her. She hadn’t spoken to her father in years. She had left the family, married a halfblood, raised halfblood children.

There had been nothing to hold against her, and they had had to let her come back to work. They had had to let her go on being a standup member of society. And she had. She had proved that she could do this as a Kingston, and now she was an Avery again. It had been a slow decision. One that she hadn’t made right away. But taking back her father’s name had seemed… Appropriate, given the political climate. And she knew that it was important to have it all along. She had kept it, all along. Emmaline Arabella Avery Kingston. But now it was just Emmaline Avery. Lady Avery.

Maybe that was why she had done it. She had wanted her title back. And yet, she still used Healer more than she ever used Avery. Healer she had worked for. She had earned. It was more than a birthright. And it had always felt nice to hear someone call her Healer Avery. She had been Healer Avery when she had first started out, and she was Healer Avery again now.

For a Monday there were plenty of cases coming into the Emergency Ward. It was almost like anyone that had thought that they could ever play quidditch was suddenly getting back on a broom. And she didn’t know if half of them even still had magic. But there were injuries ranging from bruises and scrapes, to a broken neck in bed four, and the guy in bed six had a broom handle sticking out of the side of his abdomen. From here it looked like there was a chance that it was deep enough to have punctured into his transvers abdominal muscle, or even into his abdominal cavity. Until she actually got in there and looked, she wouldn’t know for sure though, and without knowing how deep it had punctured, she wasn’t about to just pull it out.

When she reached the bed, she looked across at the young healer that was already standing there. “What can you tell me, Healer Mureșanu?”

@eulalia • 677 • emmaline's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]And when she knows

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[attr="class","clyrics"]And when she wakes up[break]
And makes up her mind

[break][break]

[attr="class","cbody"]She had always loved Quidditch. For as long as she could remember, she’d watched Quidditch and football matches with her pare. But then she had started her training and she had learned what she thought most healers learned… and that was that there were a lot of foolish and ridiculous injuries that came from not just playing the sport but flying on a broom at all.
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Obviously, everything in life had a fair amount of risk. She was not about to become overly sheltered and cautious and refuse to do anything just because one time she saw someone come into the hospital with some obscure injury. That would be ridiculous. She was not afraid of taking risks. Granted, she didn’t necessarily have the free time to do that all that often. Most of her time was spent at the hospital—and most by her standards was nearly all of the time really. There wasn’t time for her to go out and buy a motorcycle or do anything else particularly risky.
[break][break]
And that was fine with her. More than anything, she loved her job. Laia couldn’t wait to a healer in her own right. The training program in Barcelona gave her experience that no one else had in her class, but she still had years to go until she would be able to be a healer. Until then, she would continue to learn and shadow, and figure out just what she wanted to specialize in when the time came.
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When she had first started the program, she had been interested in magical bugs and diseases. It hadn’t had anything to do with Epidemic X, though that mysterious disease definitely made her even more curious about diseases and the intricacies of them. It was still something that was incredibly interesting to her, but her time in the trauma ward had her now leaning toward that specialty. She didn’t know why, honestly. Laia thought that it had a lot to do with the fast pace, and the fact that there was never really any way of knowing what the day or night was going to bring. There was no way of knowing who was going to walk in that door and what they would need.
[break][break]
She also liked knowing that they were… the first line of defense, sort of. People came in here injured from anything and everything, and the first order of business was stabilizing them. When people left here, sometimes they were just discharged—but other times, they were eventually transferred to other wards in the hospital, depending on what had happened and the recovery that was needed. But it started here.
[break][break]
It started in the Emergency Ward, and what happened next had everything to do with them.
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Today, though, she felt like there was one thing she could say she’d learned with utmost certainty. Flying was dangerous. This was the second time in a week that she had a patient with a broomstick fragment sticking out of some part of their body. The last go-around, she hadn’t been able to see it through until the end. The healer on call had told her to take a couple of hours, and by the time she’d gotten back, she’d learned that the patient hadn’t made it. It had pierced the liver and the damage had already been done before he’d even gotten there. There had been damage to the bile duct and infection had already set in.
[break][break]
But that wasn’t going to happen today. This was a different situation. A different person, a different healer on call, and a completely different injury. Now, she was just waiting for that healer to show up so that they could actually head into surgery to get it out. “The patient—Archie Grimwig,” she paused to glanced over at him with a smile, “is a twenty-six-year-old man, who was admitted this morning with an impalement injury to the abdomen. The broom handle penetrated his left lower abdomen and the lack of an exit wound means it is likely penetrating at least into his transverse abdominal muscle. Respiratory rate is normal, heart rate is elevated at 180 bpm, as is blood pressure, which was 143 over 95. Scheduled for surgery to see how deep the handle goes and to remove it without further damage.” And if she was lucky, she would actually get to see that surgery, but it would really up to Healer Avery if that happened.
[break][break]

[attr="class","cnotes"]741 ● @ healer avery ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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Uptown girl

She's been living in her uptown world

I bet she's never had a backstreet guy

Deciding to go into medicine hadn’t been a choice really, Emmaline had known all along that that was what she had wanted. She and G had done nearly everything together, when they were children. They had been in all the same clubs. They had been Chasers together. They had been Slytherin Prefects together. They had been inseparable, at least until they were old enough to actually make choices for themselves. And then they had parted. For the first time in eighteen years, they had gone their separate ways. He had gone into the Ministry, the Department of Mysteries, for Unspeakable training, and to Lufkin for Spell Invention.

She had followed in their mother’s footsteps and gone to Bangor. Potions. Herbology. The same things that their mother had studied, and then she had gone a step further. She had become a healer. And she had learned what it meant to take care of other people. She had learned what it felt like to save someone’s life. And death had taken on a whole knew meaning. It was something that she had been fascinated with since she was a kid. That had never changed, and she didn’t expect it to now. The real difference was that she was now trying to avoid it. She was preventing death from getting its claws in any of her patients.

Today, or really for the last week or so, that seemed to be more and more people that thought the announcement of quidditch restarting meant that they could all fly. That was decidedly not what it meant, but if being a Trauma Healer had taught her one thing over the years, it was that people were often very stupid. That humans, for as durable as they really were, were often the most stupid creatures that she could encounter. Not that Emmaline spent a whole lot of time around other creatures, but she was pretty sure that she could make the argument regardless.

The amount of injuries that she had seen come through her Emergency Ward doors in the last week alone were proof enough for her. It was good training for the young ones though. Many of them were almost done with their first year. They had a couple of mid-term recruits, but the number of people that actually started in the middle of the year was always minimal. That meant that they were nearly done with their first year of training, and that they could be trusted with some tasks. Even the ones that were looking at Trauma, and Surgery.

Solo surgeries were important, and she knew that she was a rather harsh teacher at times. But she also knew that there was a time to make them prove themselves and prove if they could handle surgery. To her, that meant that it was time to see if they could do it on their own. When she had approached the bed, she had asked what they knew, and she had expected a full work up. She was not disappointed. The young healer launched into her recount of everything that they knew so far, and when she was finished Emmaline nodded once in approval.

Turning to the young man on the bed, her level gaze softened, and she allowed her voice to grow warm. Never should a healer make promises, but it was still okay to be comforting. “Got yourself into a bit of a mess here haven’t you, Archie?” She shook her head a little bit. He reminded her of Travis, when she had first met him in a hospital bed like this. She had been the young healer, he had been the one covered in quidditch injuries… Shaking that thought off she kept her smile as she looked back up across the bed. “Healer Mureșanu is going to get you prepped, and ready for surgery, and then I’ll see you both in there, okay?”

Stepping away from him with a small squeeze to his arm she tilted her head to the side so that the girl would join her. “Go ahead and get him ready. Make sure that you take care around that puncture, jostling it could cause damage that we haven’t even seen yet. If you want, you can cast an x-ray charm to try and keep an eye on it as you prep, but then go ahead and get scrubbed in. You’ll be assisting.”

@ healer mureșanu • 732 • emmaline's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[nospaces]

[attr="class","cbg"]

[attr="class","cbgtop"]

[attr="class","cimg"]

[attr="class","clbox"]

[attr="class","ctopline"]AND WHEN SHE KNOWS

[attr="class","cscriptmungos"]what she wants from her time

[attr="class","cline"]

[attr="class","clyrics"]AND WHEN SHE WAKES UP[break]
AND MAKES UP HER MIND

[break][break]

[attr="class","cbody"]She did not regret her decision to come to London, even though it had come with its fair share of complications. Laia had not thought that she would meet her real pare in England, first and foremost. She hadn’t known that her entire perception of her mare would change. She had always been closer to her than anyone else in the world. Her mare was her best friend—and she had never thought that one realization could change everything. But it had. It had changed absolutely everything, and she still didn’t know what to do about that.
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She had been trying. After months of cutting her mare out completely, she was at least trying to keep in contact with her. She had come over for Christmas, after all, and she didn’t think that had gone too horribly. Laia had known there was a good chance that it could have. Her mare and pare in a room together—it was sort of asking for trouble or at least awkwardness. They were not on great terms anymore either. She was unsure if they ever had been. She knew from her pare that he’d seen her on a few occasions before he’d found out the truth. Laia thought it likely they were on better terms than they had been in years, before he had found out the truth. Now that lie had obscured everything good, and she knew that could have made Christmas awful.
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But she had thought it was worth a try. Her pare hadn’t been against the idea, so she figured it had been worth a shot. All things considered, it had gone all right. It definitely could have been worse, anyway. But there was no denying that it had been tense. Her mare had been uncomfortable, her pare had been nervous, she had still been trying to make a good impression on her half-siblings… there had been a lot going on. But they had made it through that.
[break][break]
Since then, she had been trying to see her mare at least once or twice a month for lunch. It had been a little awkward. She didn’t want it to be, but it was hard to go back to seeing her when everything was so strained. As much as she understood the choices that her mare had made, in some ways anyway, it was still hard to come to terms with the fact her mare and the man she’d thought was her pare had lied to her. If she really wanted to think into it, she thought she could understand why she hadn’t told her actual pare. But there was no reason to lie to her. She hadn’t deserved that.
[break][break]
So, for now, she could manage getting lunch with her a few times a month and keeping in contact with her throughout that time just through texts or phone calls. It was a start. Most of the rest of the time she was either at work, thinking about work, going out, or sleeping. She spent as much time at the hospital as she possibly could. Already she was looking forward to being done with her training, even if she still had years to go. Though she had come into the hospital leaning toward magical bugs and diseases as her specialty, there was no denying that Trauma had caught her interest. So really, it was no surprise that she wanted to make as good of an impression on Healer Avery as she possibly could. She was the woman in charge of the department, after all. She was the person to impress.
[break][break]
The case with Archie was just further proof to her that people did ridiculous things on broomsticks, since it hadn’t been too long ago that she’d had a case where someone had been impaled with one. They hadn’t made it, though, so she had to hope that Archie would be a bit luckier than that. When Healer Avery stepped away from the patient, Laia joined her. She nodded as the woman spoke, her eyes only widening slightly when she told her that she would be joining her in the surgery. “Right. Of course. I’ll cast the charm to be safe,” she replied, doing her best to keep her cool and not make it obvious how excited she was to be actually scrubbing in on a surgery.
[break][break]

[attr="class","cnotes"]724 ● @ healer avery ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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Uptown girl

She's been living in her uptown world

I bet she's never had a backstreet guy

When she had been a girl, there had been things that had interested her more than others. And death had always been one of those things. She had always been so curious about it. So intrigued by what it meant to die. By what came after. By the fact that they could stop it in its tracks. There were so many facets of it, that she didn’t know what to think about any of it. She thought that there was always going to be a part of her that was just swept up in that. In thinking that she could conquer death. And some days she did.

That was the best part of this job. Knowing that there were days that would come, where they could be beat death. They could look it right in the face. They could see it settling in, and they could stop it. They could turn back time. They could restart a heart. They could bring someone back. And Emmaline knew that it didn’t always work. She knew that there were times when even magic couldn’t bring someone back. Everything had limits. Medicine. Magic. The combination of the two. They were not perfect. There were always going to be things that they couldn’t help.

Quidditch starting back up always had this effect in the spring. But this year was worse than normal. At least quidditch injuries were normally something that they were prepared for. They were actual injuries sustained by players. The medi-wixen were ready for them. But this year was different. This year they were not professionals that were being injured. They were amateurs that thought that they were going to make professional teams, because there were a limited number of players. She didn’t think that there were all that many professionals that were going to risk getting hurt right now.

They had contracts that they were going to have to try and uphold, and the teams were going to struggle to find ways to keep everyone on the longer and longer this went on. They were going to struggle. But that was not her concern. She didn’t have a stake in any of the quidditch teams anymore, though she thought that she would always have a soft spot for the Falcons. That had been Travis’s team. From the time that she had met him, until the day that he had died, he had been involved in their organization. And she would never lose that.

There was still a Kingston Falcons jersey in her pajama drawer. She didn’t wear it very often, but there were times when she found herself missing him, and out it would come. It didn’t smell like him anymore. It had been four years now. But that didn’t take the sentimentality of the whole thing away from her. She knew that it had been his. And it was an old jersey, he hadn’t played since right after Avery had been born. But she didn’t think that she would ever get rid of it. He was a part of her. He was the father of her children. She would hang on to every piece of him that she could.

And she knew that that was what had kept her from dating at all these last few years. Her love for her husband was still very real. And yet, she had allowed herself to care for someone else. She didn’t love him. She liked him. And she enjoyed spending time with him. He made her happy. But she wouldn’t say that she loved him. Actually loving someone else was going to take a lot, and she didn’t know if she ever would. The thought was a sad one, she could admit that. But it was one that she had allowed herself to embrace. That actually moving on was going to be terribly difficult for her.

Her shrink said that she needed to try letting go. Moving had been a part of that. Ian was a part of that. She was trying. But it wasn’t that easy. Moving on was not an easy thing to do. She had loved him with every bit of herself. They had been together for twenty-seven years. And she had never once strayed. She was loyal, and loving, and she was just trying to keep going now. Quidditch injuries always just seemed to bring him back to the forefront of her mind. An ever-present figure. But giving up Mungo’s… She didn’t think that she could do it. She didn’t think that she could leave this place.

Emmaline had nodded and walked away from the younger healer when she had said that she was going to prep the patient and use the charm. She was plenty well trained to do that without supervision, and Emmaline had an entire ward to run, as well as perform this surgery. She check on a few more things, and made sure that her head nurse knew which operating room she was going into. The witch was halfway through her scrub song when the doors opened and she watched them wheel the young man into the room in front of her. Looking over as Healer Mureșanu joined her, she smiled at the witch. “Have you been in on a Trauma surgery yet?”

@ healer mureșanu • 878 • emmaline's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","cbg"]

[attr="class","cbgtop"]

[attr="class","cimg"]

[attr="class","clbox"]

[attr="class","ctopline"]AND WHEN SHE KNOWS

[attr="class","cscriptmungos"]what she wants from her time

[attr="class","cline"]

[attr="class","clyrics"]AND WHEN SHE WAKES UP[break]
AND MAKES UP HER MIND

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[attr="class","cbody"]Now that she knew who her pare was, she supposed it was a little funny how badly she had always wanted to be a healer. She had even read all about Santiago De la Vega, far before she knew who he really was to her. Of course, she had always known that he was her uncle. There was no hiding that. Her mare had never hid from her the complications in her past. From the moment that she was old enough to understand, she had been well aware that her mare had a complicated relationship with a good portion of her family. She knew about her aunt, the one that she had never met, and she knew all about the reasons why. The relationship that she had destroyed, and how it had happened. Sí, she did not know all of the grisly details, and she didn’t want to, but she definitely still knew enough to understand why she did not have a relationship with that part of her family.
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But that had not been enough to stop her from wanting to be a healer or reading about every achievement that Santiago De la Vega had had over the course of his career. He was a talented healer. He was specialized in the field that she had originally thought that she wanted to focus on as well. For as long as she’d been interested in healing, she had thought that she would want to be a magical bugs and diseases healer. It made her fascination with the man make more sense, certainly.
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Now that she knew who he was to her, now that she knew that he was her pare, it was far more like following in his footsteps. She didn’t have a problem with that. She thought that it was sweet, in a way, that she had been like him in ways that she had not even known at the time.
[break][break]
Being in the hospital had changed her focus somewhat, though. Her trauma rotation had really been what had done that. She now thought that she might be leaning more toward it than anything else. She didn’t know for sure—and she knew that she didn’t have to go around picking specialties yet, but it was still strange for her to have found something that beat out magical bugs and diseases. She had really not thought that was even possible.
[break][break]
Trauma was just something new and challenging every day. It required quick thinking. It required split-second decisions to save people’s lives at times, and she liked the challenge of that. It would certainly never be boring. Of course, she didn’t think any field in this hospital could be boring, but still. There was no denying that the Trauma Ward was fast-paced. There could be slow days, obviously, but it was still a fast-paced ward.
[break][break]
Getting to scrub in on a surgery in the surgical ward was not what she’d expected of her day. It was a specialty that she had some experience with but not much, and something that she was curious about. She didn’t know if that would be something that she’d ever consider seriously, but she didn’t really think so. They were wixen. They had magic. Cutting into people was so much more of a doctor thing than a healer thing, and it was not necessarily in the magical world as much. With the epidemic, it was. But when a cure came, and magic came back, she was sure that there would continue to be magical medical advances that continued to make something like surgery a last resort. It wasn’t something that she wanted to put all her heart into if that happened. Not when she enjoyed Trauma as much as she had.
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She made sure to cast the charm that Emmaline had suggested before beginning to prep Archie, doing her best to keep very calm and focused. Nerves did not tend to get the better of her when she was at work, and she was not going to let that change now. There was no reason for it. None at all. This surgery was going to go well. They were going to save Archie, which she had not been able to do the last time someone had done something stupid with a broomstick. It seemed to be a resounding theme of her month.
[break][break]
Once he was ready for surgery, they wheeled him off to get him into the OR, and she headed for the scrub room. She hoped that she’d have a minute to collect herself further when she got there, but Emmaline was already there. So, she put on a good face and joined her at the sink. “I’ve been in the room, but I’ve not assisted on any yet.” There was no reason to lie about it. While she might have been in the room, had seen how it worked, she had definitely not been anywhere near the table—had definitely not assisted or even touched any of the equipment.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]835 ● @ healer avery ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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Uptown girl

She's been living in her uptown world

I bet she's never had a backstreet guy

Choosing to be a healer had never really been a choice. It had been what she had wanted for as long as she could remember. There had never really been a time when there was another option. G had decided on the Ministry, and on being an Unspeakable. But that wasn’t for her. She didn’t want to deal with the bodies that were already dead. She wanted to save the ones that were still alive. And that had been the first real difference. The first time in eighteen years that they had chosen something different. He had gone to the Ministry, and to Lufkin. She had come here to Mungo’s and started classes at Bangor.

They were apart, for the first time in their lives. But they were still twins. They would always be twins. There was a connection that that nothing was going to really impair. Not different choices. Not marriages. Not kids. They were still two halves of a whole. They were still two parts of the same person. And she knew that that sounded cliché, but in their case, she really thought that it was true. She thought that having one Avery twin without the other would have been nearly impossible.

Still, she knew that her brother was the least of her worries when it came to being at work today. The start of quidditch season always brought with it a slew of injuries, but this year was one of the worst ones yet. People that hadn’t played quidditch in years were still climbing on their brooms and trying out for teams. Anyone that had played, ever, really, and that still had their magic seemed to think that it was perfectly acceptable to jump right back on a broom. It wasn’t that simple, and she thought that most of them learned that when they fell off. But it was the falls that likely landed them here.

She had had more than her fair share of quidditch related injuries to heal in her life. But that was what she got to being married to a starting chaser for a Division A team. She had had to patch up more than a few quidditch players on the field, and at their dinner table over the years. Even after he had quit playing professionally, and moved on to scouting for the Falcons instead, Emmaline had thought that she would never really see the end of all of her quidditch injury days. Still, this year was worse than most.

The Epidemic was to thank for that. And she knew it. But that didn’t make it any less excruciating here on the ground. They had patients coming out of their ears, and those patients had who knows what coming out of their bodies. In this case, there was a broom handle stuck in the young man’s abdomen. Emmaline didn’t think that it looked like it had gotten far enough to puncture any internal organs, but she still knew that they had to be careful. Archie, because she had reminded herself of the patient’s first name before they had gotten down here, Archie was going to be fine. She would make sure of that.

But this was a teaching hospital. Which meant that the girl that had taken the case on with her this morning when she had arrived was scrubbing in. Emmaline knew that she was clever, she had been watching her on her entire Trauma rotation, and she was good at what she did. But there was a certain kind of person that it took to be a Trauma healer, and she was curious if this girl was cut out for it or not? It wasn’t something that you could be faint hearted about. You had to be tough, you had to know what you were after, and why, because someone’s life was more often than not, very literally in your hands.

Today they were going to win. They were going to beat death, and they were going to patch this boy up. He was going to go home to his mother, or his girlfriend, or whomever it was that he was going home to, and he was going to be able to say that he was home. That he was alive. And hopefully that he was going to be staying off of broomsticks for a while. Emmaline didn’t have a fear of flying. She rather liked it, in fact. But that didn’t change the fact that it was harder to believe that they were going to be fine, when she knew that there were brooms out there waiting for them.

Emmaline nodded as she finished scrubbing, and she backed through the automatic doors into the operating room. “That’s alright. First time for everything.” She reassessed the wounds now that they had been cleaned, and draped, and she nodded to the young healer, “You did a good job. Extraction should be simple enough, but let’s pull that sonogram back up, shall we?” She held out her hand for the machine, and let the image materialize in front of them. “Still no shifting, it looks like it’s going to be clean, it missed the vital organs, but we’ve got some average penetrating trauma wounds to clean up. Would you like to do the honors of pulling it out to get us started?”

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