<div class="floatleft">(http://pre00.deviantart.net/c13a/th/pre/i/2014/320/d/0/hazardous_docks_by_haryarti-d86m32q.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Finn Búistéir<br/><strong>Position:</strong> <del>Distinguished psychopath.</del> Surgeon<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Infirmary &amp; Surgeon's Quarters<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date</strong>: Day 1 | Afternoon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Marisol, Arvad, Rachel<br/><strong>Content Warnings:</strong> Language</span><br/><hr/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><br/>As the trio - one being carried - came nearer the infirmary, Finn was head-deep in a cabinet of sorts, cussing vehemently in half-english-half-gaelic. Doors opened, and with only a hint of surprise muddled with excitement, she perked up, dinging her head lightly on the wooden enclosure. "Ah fer fucks sake," she said with none-too-little frustration, withdrawing herself from within and rising to her feet, a wad of cloth bandaging in one hand and a nondescript, but small sized wooden box in the other. The former she kept handy, and the latter got set on the counter with no hesitation, the freed hand soon motioning to plop the lad either on the large wooden slab of a table where she'd do surgeries, or an infirmary bunk proper. <br/><br/>There was no moment taken for introductions or otherwise, just the sound of her light footsteps accentuated by lofty boots leading her a bit closer to the trio, eyes raking over the man who'd been previously hauled in like a sack of meat jelly. "Well, wut happen'd? O'er, if'ya'have no idea.. wut hurts?" she questioned, eyeing the three attentively as they settled. She'd not expected anyone to come in hurt so soon - and so she was extra curious - but ultimately it was her job, and the chance to poke and prod among other <em>things</em> was always exciting. Equally her curiosity about this people in general was piqued - beyond some brief brushings with folks in the hallways, Finn had been in this small space organizing what storage spaces their were, and cramming the most important items into the medical chests in some properly accessible way - a true task, with how disgustingly disorganized it'd started. Hell, she was at that point where she'd tried to salvage the way things were to spend less time messing about with it, only to recently realize it was too fucked to fit everything properly. So? She was a bit frustrated, even if it didn't entirely show through as she stood there.</span>