MEDBAY CATCH-ALL | JANUARY

[bloodplay]

CHARACTERS: EVERYBODY. Are you working in the Medical department? Are you sick? Do you need shrapnel dug out of your arm? Are you going in for a check-up? Are you visiting someone? Are you grabbing some space tampons? Are you just here to bitch about how terrible the Medbay coffee is? Get in here.
LOCATION: the Medbay & its adjoining areas (gravity couches; locker room; morgue; SHOWERS? idk man whatever turns you on)
WARNINGS: Sick or injured people who may or may not be tripping off their medication? Also, whatever gross weirdos happen to be in Medbay at the time.
SUMMARY: It's a catchall Medbay post! For characters to interact within the setting of Medical and do whatever the hell they want, set during the entire span of vague, nebulous space January. That is really all there is to this.
NOTES: This is really just a general catchall post for things people might not want to set up separate logs for, plus an excuse for open log mingling shenanigans. If you want to specify when in the month things take place, feel free to put it in your subject line! The same goes for whether or not the thread is locked to certain characters.

Upon leaving stasis, just beyond the gravitation chamber, you'll find the open space of Medbay. This department is equipped to perform entirely independent of human involvement, but as time has passed you'll find that medical is now attended by your fellow passengers, operating on a series of shift rotations. Not unlike the other specialties, medical is equally susceptible to loss and appears consistently in need of volunteer assistance. Admittance to the bay at large is dependent upon security clearance. For example, all passengers will be able to access bandages, low level pain medication and the like, assistants will be able to access equipment to assess a patient's vitals, and doctors will have access to controlled substances and patient medical files.

Within medical there are numerous beds and consoles to monitor the status of patients who have been admitted. Due to advances in medical technology, passengers can expect that injuries and illness will heal at an accelerated rate. Breaks and fractures, for example, will recover within a fraction of the time that would typically be expected. Rows of cabinets contain all the necessities you would expect to find in a hospital facility. Alongside the basics there are also decontamination chambers, quarantine rooms, and surgical facilities. The entire area gives a distinct impression of cleanliness and sterilization, though on closer examination, given the handful of items that have gone missing, it looks as though someone left in a hurry...

Comments

open for all of the things because yes

[invalided]

[ Here for all the... general medical needs and potential CR?

John will be working well and working hard, and subsisting on terrible medbay coffee with a s little complaint about it as he can manage to let escape.

Typically working the night shift, but if he's honest, there isn't often a lot going on that he can contribute greatly to outside of his medical skills.

Available often and happy to lend a hand! Keeping busy is the best way to keep from going mad, or at least it has been for the majority of his life so far. ]

i hope this is okay?!

[ironsights]

[ being stubborn and antisocial can help one power through many problems in life; a half-healed-and-rebroken ribcage is not one of those problems.

late at night, and kazama comes sulking into the medical bay -- looking around warily like a wild animal that's being herded into a cage. even discounting the way he has a hand gingerly pressed against his side, he looks a mess. there's a lovely, purple bruise coloring across his cheekbone and all the way down his shoulder, and he's trying not to limp as he takes a few more cautious steps into the med bay.

it's wary, almost nervous, near-silent, when he approaches the man working there and stops a fair distance away -- asking at a sudden, quiet deadpan, ]

-- you're a doctor?

[ probably startling the poor guy. ]

simon is here. for you. ota all the time.

[doc_pompous]

[Simon spends most, if not all of his time in the medbay--if he's not seeing a patient, he's organizing, or taking inventory, or working at his desk.

No matter what he's doing, he'll certainly stop to see what he can do for you--even if it's just the need for a band-aid.

You definitely want to bother him.]

[glassesonachain]

[When Bennett comes back up to the Medbay for her orientation, she's extra cautious about where she walks. A repeat of last time would be embarrassing. To say the least.]

Ah, Dr. Tam? Hi. I-I'm Bennett.

[And there's the slightly awkward friendly smile.]

[doc_pompous]

[Things Simon is not prepared for: turning around only to find himself face-to-face with someone who looks enough like his sister to give him a moment of pause.

He's run into Cameron, but this isn't Cameron and someone else, someone new, catches him off guard.]

Bennett, hello, um--

[Handshake. A handshake would be good, he decides, and thrusts his hand forward.]

It's nice to meet you.

[glassesonachain]

[His initial reaction makes her frown for a moment. It makes her wonder if she's somehow broken some sort of unspoken space rule but she gets over it and is back to smiles in seconds. But handshakes. It's a normal gesture, of course. She just always found them...strange. Regardless, she extends her own hand and shakes his, pulling back quickly.] It's nice to meet you, too. In person. Face to face communication is...good. [Maybe one day she won't flail all over the most basic conversations. Maybe.]

[doc_pompous]

[Simon does his best to recover, offering her a smile and an awkward laugh.]

Yeah, it's...it's good.

[Cough.]

Would you like me to show you the equipment?

[glassesonachain]

Yes, that would be, that would be good.

[The way she starts that sentence, smiling and looking far too excited probably makes her seem like an over eager puppy so Bennett...tones that down a little and composes herself a bit better.]

All of this, the equipment, it appears to be...quite a bit more advanced than what I'm used to at home.

[doc_pompous]

Yeah, we...get that a lot.

[The way he says it doesn't necessarily indicate that it's in a bad way, however, and he motions for her to follow him to one of the automated medical systems.]

I'm not sure if Doctor Brink explained it to you, but the crew is made up of people from all different time frames, so you wouldn't be the only one unaccustomed to working in space.

[glassesonachain]

Not really. He was too focused on telling me about the wolves and the bugs and the dinosaur. And then about other passengers.

[She follows close behind him and pulls at her sleeves, fidgeting.]

Are you? Accustomed to working in space.

OTA! Starting with prose but feel free to tag back with whatever!

[glassesonachain]

Bennett was still in shock and mildly traumatized by...all of this. Which was probably her own fault for nodding off in the middle of some terrible sci-fi that Caroline had forced her to watch.

At every turn, she felt like she was going to lapse into another panic attack because this was a nightmare. Everything about it. Being stuck in that--that stasis tube, being thrown out in the middle of all that commotion and being so, well. Exposed. Yes. She'd been spending all of her time hiding in secluded little corners and avoiding people, even after she'd made it to her locker, gotten dressed and found her personal items.

Now she was finally...venturing out. Slightly. She found herself in the medbay, timidly poking at things and trying to figure things out. As a doctor and an engineer (well, she almost had her degree in engineering but that was put on pause because of this weird nightmare for now) it was pretty much a goldmine of fascinating things to focus on. A whole lot better than getting distracted every 30 seconds by the fact she's been forced to wear pants and how uncomfortable they are.

Her exploring gets interrupted, though. When she hears a noise, Bennett gets startled and whips her head around to see what it was. Something moves, whether its a person or not, it just makes Bennett frantically search for a spot to hide herself. She finds one but of course, since she's such a graceful creature, she trips over her own feet and crashes into something before she can actually hide.

Yep. Good job, Halverson. Knocking things over is the best way to fly under your potential kidnapper's radar.

[andblockbuster]

It's incredibly hard to miss that clatter, even if Topher doesn't usually poke too much on this side of the medbay in case someone makes him do his job while he's still recovering from the side effects of the stasis fluid. At first he makes plaintive faces for someone else to go check on the poor newbie who probably missed a step and fell over and needed some help up, but everyone's too busy cooing over the people who were trapped in the pods all last month who've finally waken up.

"Seriously..." He whines, realizing he's going to have to help the poor sap, himself. He wanders over and kneels down to pick up the fallen equipment without even looking at the person who knocked it over. "You might wanna watch it for a few hours. The first time's a real doozy. That stuff's hell on the... On the..."

His articulate flippancy about the jumps cuts off immediately as he looks up at who he's been speaking to. His jaw drops a little and he ends up dropping the tools he just picked up back onto the floor. It's not her. It's not her- it can't be her. He's sick or he's hallucinating or or-

"I'm sorry. I, uh..." He stands up, leaving the discarded tools where he left them. "Are you... Bennett Halverson?"

This isn't a question he should have to ask, but he's been fooled twice before and he's not sure he can handle the heartbreak anymore than he's sure he can't deal with confusing and terrorizing a shy girl on her first day. If he's wrong, he's wrong. He'll help her out and leave her be, like he did with Cameron and the other girl. He can barely look at her and stares at the floor instead, just so he doesn't have to see a lack of recognition in her eyes if it's not her.

[glassesonachain]

Bennett tries to stubbornly ignore this man at first. She straightens herself up so she isn't sprawled on the floor in a heap and that's when she realizes she must have hit her head pretty hard because she's bleeding. Which is wonderful.

She almost starts barking at the guy to leave her alone because she's a doctor and knows how to tend to her own wounds but...then he says her name and that makes her freeze completely and look up at him.

There is a lack of recognition; she has absolutely no idea who he is and the fact that he knows who she is freaks her out a whole lot. As in, Bennett kicks herself back away from him and grabs a scalpel off the floor. Not the best weapon ever but it should keep this guy from coming any closer.

"Who are, who are you," she stammers, holding the knife in front of her and completely ignoring the blood that's dripping down the side of her face, "Tell me who you are and why, and tell me why the hell you know my name. You-you shouldn't know that, no one here should know that."

[andblockbuster]

Topher holds up his hands quickly. "Whoa- Hey!" He yelps, taking a step backwards and nearly tripping, himself. He's suddenly breathless, because it's her- it's her- it's really, really her- and she's here and she's alive and she has... she has no idea who the hell he is.

His shoulders droop a bit, but he keeps his hands up, circling around behind something in case she lunges. He knows enough about screwed up timelines to understand what's happened. Bennett's from before she ever met him, before they fell in love, before she... Well, before that happened. It's a mixed blessing, but he can't bring himself to be terribly upset about it, if only because it means that for as long as she's here, she's safe.

From that fate anyway. There might be a worse fate in store for her here, but less important.

And that's about when he notices the blood and he freezes for a fraction of a second, remembering the exit wound and the blood splatters and his knees nearly buckle and he has to grab onto something for support. He waves a hand at her. "Bleeding. No- you're bleeding. I'm... I'm Topher Topher Brink. I've heard all about you."

That's safe enough, isn't it? He swallows, refusing to look at her again before the urge is too much and he's forced to look up and meet her eyes, his expression a mix between pained and relieved.

[glassesonachain]

This nightmare just keeps getting weirder and weirder, doesn't it. This man just about looks like he's seen a ghost and is claiming to be Topher Brink. Which she can't believe, not really. She'd been working on her dissertation when Caroline put that stupid movie on, hadn't she? Yes. And working on that involved pouring herself over diagrams of Dr. Brink's discoveries since his work was so fascinating and she'd always wanted to meet his tech in person and--

No. This is still a dangerous situation and no matter who he says he is, she can't trust him. Even if that silly stupid girly part of her is just screaming and squealing with something akin to joy.

"Topher Brink," she repeats, "As in...Dr. Topher Brink. You developed the ah, the light," Coherency, what is that. Wow, she must sound stupid. "And, and you've heard about me. If you are, if you are who you say and are not lying to me about your identity, I find that incredibly difficult to believe."

She pushes herself back up to her feet and starts frantically looking for something she can wipe her face off with. Bleeding all over isn't exactly pleasant and it's, tending to the scrape is something normal. Something she can do that doesn't involve currently questioning the fabric of reality.

[andblockbuster]

"Yeah," he says, still breathless and laughing a bit. She knows his name, at least. Of course, she knows his name. He's a big deal in the neuroscience world and on any other day, he'd be preening, but right now it's some glimmer of hope. Bennett Halverson knows his name and she's here. Those two words keep repeating in his head over and over like a record skipping: she's here. "The effervescent light technique," he corrects, good-naturedly. "And you're total legend... or you will be. What... what year was it? Before you left and came here? I swear it's not a dumb question."

He holds up a hand to indicate that she should wait and retrieves a sterile cloth from one of the drawers and rushes back to her side, giving her an awkward look to gain her permission before he starts dabbing at her bloodied hand, himself.

He can't help but stare at her like he's seen a ghost and he's still doing it, which doesn't help any. He knows he's probably scaring her, but... "You're Bennett Halverson." The words just tumble out and it's almost identical to the tone he used when he met her for the first time. He was the one on the fanboying end that time. Later, he might grasp the poetry of it all, but right now his stomach is doing somersaults and he wishes he could kiss her without it being really weird or having to explain why. 'Because the last time I saw you, I was picking your brain out of my hair' is not a good conversation starter.

[glassesonachain]

"Right," she forces a smile. She knows that, she knows its effervescent she just. Words. Lacking with them. And he just keeps saying things that solidify her conclusion that this is one heck of a dream. Topher Brink is calling her a legend? Topher Brink is currently tending to her very stupidly acquired wounds? Yeah, no. There's no way this is real.

But it feels real and that scares her.

Bennett abruptly tries to grab the cloth he's holding and tug it away from him so she can clean herself up. She's uncomfortable with this on so many levels. Her brain just can't process that the scientist she probably admires most for a multitude of reasons was standing here, completely, entirely focused on her. She's not used to being the center of attention. The way he's looking at her, it doesn't help. It makes her try to analyze his features which really doesn't work because then it sends her brain on a weird tangent of 'I don't know if I think he's attractive because I admire his work or if this is just my head calculating his facial features in a way I'd find most desirable because this is a dream. And why was this suddenly a dream instead of a nightmare? All because he showed up in it? Wow, Bennett, you are so ridiculous.' All of that added on top of the rest of the weirdness of this was just making her a tiny bit twitchy. Okay, a whole lot twitchy. She was currently fighting off the urge to gnaw on her fingernails from the anxiety.

"It was, it was 2007," she answers tersely, "And I thought that we, I thought we already established that. I'm Bennett Halverson, you're Dr. Topher Brink."

[andblockbuster]

"Yeah," he repeats vacantly before snapping himself out of it. "I mean... Yeah, I know you know who you are. Obviously. I'm just impressed that I'm finally getting to meet you... for the first time." Because he sounds completely and utterly balanced saying that. He gives her a slightly wider margin of space and crosses his arms over his chest.

"It was 2011. For me. So you've got a few years to get famous. I'm like the Ghost of Christmas Future or something." He runs a hand through his hair and puffs out his cheeks. Maybe he should just... avoid talking to her about her life and pussyfooting around that which he desperately doesn't want to explain and deal with the real problem here, which starts with 't' and ends with 'oh god why.'

"You're on thr Tranquility, BTW. It's your basic... pandimensional kidnapping vessel. I've been here for about a year now, so I can... show you the ropes, I guess. Since we know each other- know of each other. For lack of a familiar face, you can have a familiar name?"

He was so much better at this when he didn't have to try quite so hard. This is proving to be difficult.

astonishingly open

[bloodplay]

[Over the course of the past month ~Rudy Cooper's~ Medbay hours have gone from moderate to nigh-omnipresent; there's one very good reason for that, which just so happens to also be one very good person. Though he knows perfectly well that Deb has no qualms about following him around the ship and being as vocal about his numerous little secrets as possible, she so far hasn't breached the sanctity of Medical. Maybe it's the fact that her devoted brother's here, ostensibly able to keep an eye on him; maybe it's all the scalpels within arms' length. Whatever it is, he's not about to sabotage a good thing.

That means he's frequently in Medbay even when he's not, strictly speaking, on shift -- even moreso after the Chase and Shale incidents. He'll be there, taking inventory or reading medical records or stashing away more of his stupid pre-fabs, or just sitting around with a cup of horrible Medbay coffee and a set of files downloaded from the media library. Whatever he's doing (and I'll just make up something for anyone who happens to comment! tell me if you have preferences), there are two constants; he's wearing his stupid labcoat, and he'll snap to attention whenever anyone shows up. Whether that's to offer a casual hello or mop their vomit off the floor has yet to be determined.]

[ironsights]

[ kazama doesn't sleep very much, in general. always being off on mission, going places and setting up watch to wait to snipe people pretty much equals not much sleep, and kazama's used to being up at obscene hours of the morning. even when he's got an on-and-off supply of painkillers and sleeping pills in him.

so it's almost four in the morning when kazama realizes he's almost out of painkillers and figures a visit to the medbay when it's still quiet and empty would be a good idea. even with his whole side aching, limping slightly, kazama still moves almost silently, so used to creeping around unseen with a huge rifle -- manages to make his way to the entrance of the medbay without making a sound, warily poking his head in the doorway and looking to see if anyone's there. he spots a familiar face lurking there, alone, and makes to speak up -- before realizing there's something a little odd. something a little strange about the way that guy acts. lurking in the entrance to the medical bay, mostly out of sight, kazama decides to watch for a few more moments before making himself known. ]

holy shit i give up on trying to make this short

[bloodplay]

[it's been four months, now, since he showed up here, two since he learned he was dead, and one since deb. in all that time he has not killed a single person, and it is throwing off his groove, man. doing what he's doing now -- looking over the more blunt instruments in medbay's inventory, stealing things he has a plausible excuse for taking should he get caught -- is soothing, to an extent. still, ain't nothing like the real thing.

that means that when he shucks the mask off, it's off, and tonight (really, it's all relative, but it feels like a night) is no exception. he wears the same stupid labcoat as ever, the same stupid red button-down shirt underneath, and his carriage isn't too radically different from the usual, but kazama's almost certainly savvy enough to pick up on the disparity. where he's normally casual and low-slung, expressive in his movements, he's now almost unnaturally still. his hand, only slightly visible, extends into the inventory itself; though the thumb he runs down the blade of the bone saw is, mercifully, out of sight for the moment, there's no hiding body language.

his head cants slightly to the left as if he's looking in that direction, picking up kazama's scent like a fucking lion or something. for one moment it looks like he might be reaching for something else in the inventory cabinet, but then, without warning he turns on his heel to face him. in the instant before he registers kazama his face matches his stance -- wary, but in a cold and efficient way that seems to indicate no actual fear. it's also more than a little predatory.

but one of the more unsettling things about brian is how quickly he gets back into character; lies are one of the tools he handles most deftly (the number one being "really sharp objects.") a calm, friendly smile spreads across his face, accompanied by all the trademarks of authenticity, as he recognizes who he's looking at. but no matter how many laughlines he has or how utterly the emotion shows in his eyes, once someone has seen him with the mask down, the facade takes on a particularly plasticky sheen. they start to note disparities in his stories, the stereotypical copy and paste behind his charm, the overwhelming nothing lying beneath all that good humor. it's not an ideal situation, but he almost can't help the completeness of the transition; with no reference for real human subtlety and years of deeply-couched fakeness, what can he do but flip from one to the other? it's like some great invisible hand just changed from one slide to the next in a view-master; the plastic clicks down, rises up, and a completely different man is standing in front of him.

his eyebrows arch in a way that's less sinister than it is benevolently chiding, which of course means it's total horseshit.]

We meet again.

aahhh i'm sorry i can't match your magnificent length, i tried -- !!!

[ironsights]

[ people tend to underestimate him, in some ways. not so much his ability to kill a man from a long distance away or his proficiency with weapons or his ridiculous tenacity. but people often underestimate how sensitive kazama tends to be about other people's feelings, their motives, their tendencies. maybe it comes with the territory of being a sniper, but kazama's far more observant than people assume him to be.

so there's no way he misses those subtle signals suggesting that brian isn't quite who he says he is.

while he hadn't exactly planned on spying, kazama hadn't been able to pull himself away once he'd noticed the disturbing oddities about brian's actions, the way he moved with a strange, mechanical precision that he hadn't noticed before. and of course, there had been that sudden, chilling change in demeanor. kazama hadn't exactly jumped, but he'd stiffened in place when brian suddenly turned towards him, the hair at the back of his neck prickling up as a swift chill ran through his nerves. he'd known more through instinct than by rational thought that there was something fundamentally very wrong with brian, right at that moment.

to his credit, kazama does a fairly good job at acting innocent -- as much as a guy who looks as shady and wary as him can look innocent, at least. brian turns towards him, smiles, and kazama barely even blinks. it helps that his demeanor's always stiff and tense, and there isn't much noticeable difference in the way he speaks from the last time they met. just the same soft, nondescript deadpan. ]

Need more painkillers.

[ but subtly, there are some differences. kazama seems just a bit more reluctant to step into the medical bay, and when he fishes through his jacket pocket to retrieve an empty pill bottle, his eyes don't stop tracking brian. like someone who knows better than to not pay attention to a predatory animal. ]

NOBODY SHOULD HAVE TO MATCH THAT ABOMINATION it is beautiful

[bloodplay]

[despite all the cold and meticulous planning, there's always been a rough and impulsive underbelly to brian's preferred methods of problem-solving, and it's that knife-edge that digs into him now. he has no idea, at this juncture, whether or not the person he only knows as k has any idea what he's just witnessed. that does absolutely nothing to drown out the way his mind is hissing at him to do it now, kill him while he has the chance. in the instant before reality sets in (k obviously has some experience in physical altercation considering his constant need for painkillers, brian's the only one on shift, someone else could easily have seen him on the way to medical, and what to do about the body? also, DEBBBBBBBBBBB) it seems easy, almost unimaginably simple in its efficiency, and right -- the path of least resistance.

unfortunately, tempting as it is, it's an incredibly stupid idea and he knows it. it still manages to occupy his mind well enough that he fails to pay full attention to the signals kazama is giving off, and therefore remains an ignorant dumbass! there's something about those eyes, though, that keeps him wary; brian knows well enough what being monitored feels like. it doesn't bring back the best memories.]

Of course. [he keeps the neutrally pleasant face but dispenses with the smile, which is probably a good thing. it's starting to look a little pasted-on.] Ribs still giving you trouble, or is it something else?

[ironsights]

[ kazama gets the sense that he's dealing with someone far more dangerous than he lets on. it's a sort of gut instinct, one that's helped him survive the ins and outs ot the terrorist business thus far, and he trusts that instinct immediately. his eyes continue to track brian with every movement, and kazama doesn't bother even trying to pretend he's not staring. no doubt this wariness and caution is a mutual feeling, there's no reason for him to mask it.

he gives a small nod at the question, leaning against the dooframe as he answers quietly, ] Nothing else.

[ he's still watching though, too on-edge to dare take his eyes off brian. for a moment, he'd felt his nerves twinge with anxiety, an instinctive reaction to when he's felt any aggressive energy directed at him, and kazama tries not to think about the fact that he needs those painkillers right fucking now, before the pounding ache in his side gets any worse. there's just a slow, hoarse exhale hissed out past gritted teeth, and kazama casts about the rest of the medical bay to check if they really are alone before suddenly speaking up once more. his voice is firmer, almost a little accusatory, but it's quiet enough that his words wouldn't be audible to anyone out in the hallways: ] You're hiding something. Pretending to be what you're not. [ there's a complete lack of hesitation in his voice. as if he's 100% sure he's correct. ]

[bloodplay]

[welp.

he's on the verge of taking a step forward when kazama speaks the second time, but then he does, and the leg about to move merely twitches and stays in place. the same thoughts course through him, but this time brian's prepared. the carefully-couched set of his face betrays nothing, even as the eyes set in it follow kazama's gaze with the cool interest of a casual observer. all traces of whatever was there thirty seconds ago are gone, the monster vanished back into the abyss it came from, but whoever he is now, it sure as hell isn't rudy cooper.

he holds the silence for one long, speculative moment, obviously sizing him up -- not in a necessarily combative way, but there's something in the way he tilts his head that says aren't you an interesting piece of work? which really is no better. it's with a natural, unstrained voice that he responds, when he does.]

That was fast. [now he really does take a step forward, but he's heading for a cabinet rather than kazama.] You know, most people are.