Dr. Adrien Arbuckal (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
prorenataa) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou2016-11-21 10:21 pm
prorenataa) wrote in thisavrou2016-11-21 10:21 pm
Video
[ He'd meant to make this audio only but it was too much effort and when the video came up instead, Adrien couldn't be arsed to switch it out.
So have an image of one of your medical professionals, Moira crew. The right side of his face, particularly around the temple and orbital bone is a spectacular black, purple, red and shade of green and the bruising traces down across his cheek. He has butterfly bandages on a cut across the eyebrow, the edge of which disappears into his hair line. His right arm is (currently) in a sling, though he appears to be wriggling his way out of it.
Adrien looked pale; paler than usual, his freckles definitely on display across his otherwise ashen skin. Dark circles were imprinted under his eyes and he kept blinking, as if focusing was a bit of a bitch. Still, when he spoke, his voice was clear (if accented) and to the point. ]
Right that sucked.
We've secured a location and set up the medical tent, though if anyone has some impromptu spots set up, give a shout; especially if you need supplies. Otherwise, if you need treatment ... please seek it out.
[ Yes he said 'please'. Yes he has a major head wound. ]
Has anyone been able to get any sort of count on who is clear of the wreckage? Walking injured? Non-ambulatory injured and dead? We've got track of some of the cryo units but if you know of one, let someone know so we can try to get an accurate count.
[ Reaching up with his now freed right arm, Adrien rubbed at his injured temple, wincing. ]
We've got some supplies here at the tent; water and nutrition bars mostly. Does anyone know the state of the ship? What about our immediate situation? Can anyone tell if we can secure this location and hold it until we can stop the ringing in our ears?
[ Maybe it was just his ears?
Finally, the important question. ]
Any evidence that ... anything ... we saw on the trip here, followed us through?
So have an image of one of your medical professionals, Moira crew. The right side of his face, particularly around the temple and orbital bone is a spectacular black, purple, red and shade of green and the bruising traces down across his cheek. He has butterfly bandages on a cut across the eyebrow, the edge of which disappears into his hair line. His right arm is (currently) in a sling, though he appears to be wriggling his way out of it.
Adrien looked pale; paler than usual, his freckles definitely on display across his otherwise ashen skin. Dark circles were imprinted under his eyes and he kept blinking, as if focusing was a bit of a bitch. Still, when he spoke, his voice was clear (if accented) and to the point. ]
Right that sucked.
We've secured a location and set up the medical tent, though if anyone has some impromptu spots set up, give a shout; especially if you need supplies. Otherwise, if you need treatment ... please seek it out.
[ Yes he said 'please'. Yes he has a major head wound. ]
Has anyone been able to get any sort of count on who is clear of the wreckage? Walking injured? Non-ambulatory injured and dead? We've got track of some of the cryo units but if you know of one, let someone know so we can try to get an accurate count.
[ Reaching up with his now freed right arm, Adrien rubbed at his injured temple, wincing. ]
We've got some supplies here at the tent; water and nutrition bars mostly. Does anyone know the state of the ship? What about our immediate situation? Can anyone tell if we can secure this location and hold it until we can stop the ringing in our ears?
[ Maybe it was just his ears?
Finally, the important question. ]
Any evidence that ... anything ... we saw on the trip here, followed us through?
video; private
[ Matrix dodged absolutely every question actually posed in Adrien's post, incredible. ]
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How is this even a question people ask?
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When he speaks, his voice just sounds tired. ]
Probably a mild grade three, which just means I need to stay awake.
[ Well ... no, no it had a few more implications than that but Adrien was going for the silver lining. ]
What are y ... actually scratch that. How long have you been digging in the engines?
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[ And what are the chances that Tony - or anyone, really - could keep the doctor from over-taxing himself in the meantime? Zero, probably. ]
If you think I've been keeping track of time, you're very wrong. [ And he's not even being an ass for the sake of it; he honestly doesn't know. ] Where are you?
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He shakes it off before he allows himself to grow bitchy and glances around at the medical tent. ]
Setting up the medical tent. The larger one, three clicks from the ship. I ... haven't seen McCoy, so we're doing the best we can with who we have.
[ There was a pause and then, like an olive branch ...] We have bottled water and nutrition bars here.
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[ There's a pause. "Fifteen," he might've said normally, if they were aboard the Moira and stuff like this were still easy. But they're not, and it isn't. ]
I dunno. Whatever. If I don't show up within an hour, just assume I'm dead and write me a touching eulogy.
[ The joke probably falls a little flatter than usual, under the circumstances. He tried. ]
cw: puke
Adrien told himself this, over and over as he felt bile rise up in his throat. He managed not to boot (not that there was much in his stomach to get rid of) but the burn of regurgitated stomach acid caused him to grunt as he forcefully swallowed it back down.
Tali ... and others, so many others. He's seen the bodies, if not the identities. How many had died in that crash and by what grace was it that Tony hadn't?
The suit, maybe?
In the end, Adrien just said two words, in a very quiet voice. ]
No dying.
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He doesn't know about a few of the other personal casualties, either, but in all his running around in the aftermath, helping whoever he can, moving whoever was unable to move themselves - he didn't see a few faces that he absolutely would have seen helping out, had they been able.
He's not dwelling on it right now.
The hiss of a vacuum seal releasing is what finally announces Tony's arrival, as he pulls the armor's helmet off completely and lets it drop somewhere out of the way. The armor has indeed done its job, though the gashes on his head and face are inevitable after the day they've all had. Even with blood running down his temple, he still looks considerably better off than Adrien right now.
Christ.
The guy is really in a state, if that greeting is any indication. Tony goes for business as usual, because that seems like the greatest comfort right now. ]
Doing my absolute best, champ.
[ Tony thinks he's done pretty well on that front, considering how often the universe has conspired to make him dead so far. He scans the makeshift med camp, while his eyes adjust to the change in light levels. ]
What do you need help with around here?
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Still, he manages to keep his composure when Tony arrives and exposes the head wound. Head wounds always bleed like a sonofabitch, looking worse than they might actually be. It didn't stop Adrien from frowning and pointing towards a cot ... paused and then pointed towards a more sturdy crate. ]
Sit there and don't break it.
[ He was thankful for the armor, but he'd moved bits and pieces around often enough (usually looking for laundry to clean) to have an idea of what it weighed. ]
Let me get that head wound cleaned, before you frighten a small child. [ Or, you know, your roommate.
Taking Tony's lead (business as usual, business as usual) Adrien began to gather simple solutions to get those cuts on the older man's face cleaned. That would let him know if his roommate needed bandages. ]
What can you tell me about possible portal power solutions?
[ Just ... keep moving forward. Keep moving forward. Why am I asking this question? Haven't I fucked up enough? No ... keep moving forward, focus on the med tent, don't look anywhere else, just keep moving forward.
Adrien's hand was trembling so badly that the bottle sloshed and he was forced to put it down for a moment as he took a couple of deep breaths.
Keep. Moving. Forward. ]
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Yeah, okay, first of all - let's back it up and put the brakes on. [ He points at Adrien where he's gathering supplies. ] You cut that shit out. I have some scrapes, not a gunshot wound. Save it for the people who're gonna need it way more than me.
[ There's the sound of joints releasing and the armor de-compressing as the entire thing opens up and allows Tony to step out, which he does. It's been hours - fifteen minutes out of the thing will probably do him some good. As he moves away from it, he mutters "sentry mode," which the armor apparently takes as its cue to close itself up and walk itself over to the entrance to the med tent. It parks itself there, one repulsor hand lifted and ready.
As for the perfectly human guy from inside it, he just drops himself onto what looks like the comfiest patch of ground in the joint, releasing a long and bone-weary sigh as he does so. He makes an expansive gesture at an identical patch of ground nearby. ]
Pop a squat, doc. And bring over some of that water, I'll clean it up myself.
[ If he at least gets the blood off, it'll convince Adrien he doesn't need to be sewn back up or something. ]
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As the metallic voice told him to cut it out, Adrien bristled and turned with a
half hearted fierce glare. ]We have no idea what sort of environment we're in! Even a small scrap could become an infected nightmare! [ Yep, award winning bedside manner right here; don't everybody rush him at once. ]
Still glaring at the unimpressed face plate, Adrien twitched slightly when the armor began to de-compress. It was an unsettling sound, what with the whirl of hydraulics and various joint mechanisms, and though Adrien had heard it before, his nerves were shot.
He'd actually never seen the armor take up sentry mode and, congratulations Stark, his jaw dropped when the empty suit walked towards the doorway. ]
What the fuck?? It's sentient?! Have I had an extra roommate I didn't know about??
[ Yeah, someone's nerves were fried, though strangely enough the doctor moved towards the armor curiously. He wanted to poke it.
However, Tony's request for water shook the doctor out of his curiosity and he stood for a moment, looking rather stupidly between the armor and it's creator. Reaching up to brush his fingers through his hair, he walked over to one of the crates, grabbing an actual bottle of water (wait had Tony meant the 'clean up wounds' water?), which he held out towards the man. ]
When was the last time you ate something? [ No, he's not going to stop grumbling and fussing at the same time. It's a talent; respect it. ]
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JARVIS runs the thing. [ Said like "duh." ] So the answer to that sentience question is way more complicated than I think you want to deal with right now.
[ But when bottled water is passed to him, he shrugs. It'll do. Without any ceremony he pops it open and swigs down half of it in just a few gulps, then dumps some of it right over his head.
Fuck, that feels good. ]
Food? Same as you, probably. [ AKA "before the monster outbreak" AKA "before the ship went down" AKA "many many hours ago." He pushes wet hair out of his face and makes a "gimme" gesture with his free hand. ] Gimme a rag or something, will ya? A clean one, preferably, since you're concerned about space germs.
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[ As if that made everything okay, but honestly for the time being it did.
Watching with a small sense of approval as Tony gulped down the water, Adrien turned to grab up a roll of clean gauze, and yeah the food question probably deserved that answer, but it didn't stop the doctor from digging out a nutrition bar before he walked both over to Stark. ]
Eat your cardboard. [ He wasn't even going to pretend it tasted good but it would provide the calories they were both missing, due to the lack of caffeine.
After a minute of stubbornly standing in place, Adrien painfully lowered himself down onto the ground; getting up was going to be a bitch. Stretching his bad leg out straight, he folded the other in towards himself and leaned his elbow on his knee and his head in his upturned palm. ]
Is it as bad as I'm hearing?
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The food gets temporarily set aside so that he can scrub some of the gauze along the side of his now-wet face, the blood smudging and flaking off to reveal a mostly-unharmed head underneath. He flicks Adrien a sideways glance as he lowers himself to the ground, apparently satisfied with that. Good. He can't motherhen himself in circles this way. ]
I guess that depends on what you're hearing.
[ Part of Tony doesn't want to know, but a much larger part needs to know. ]
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He does watch as Stark cleans up, eyes searching for any trace of torn skin. Suit of armor or not, that blood came from somewhere and Adrien didn't doubt the man would try to ignore his own bruises.
The question, wrapped inside the statement, causes the doctor to reach up and rub, gingerly, at his own bandaged head. He doesn't want to say the words, because once he says them they become all too real.
But like Tony, who may not want to hear it but needs too, Adrien knows he's got to speak to the reality of what's happening around them. ]
The ship is in pieces, and we've got dead. I've started to keep ... [ a list sounds so damn cold, so he pauses and chooses his words with care. ] ... medical is attempting to ... [ uh no ... no those weren't good words either.
He looks like he might give it one more attempt, before just deflating and shaking his head. ]
It's hard to focus on the living and the dead at the same time.
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How many?
[ Tony knows exactly what Adrien's getting at, even if he can't figure out which words to string together for it. Too bad he chickened out of asking "who?" ]
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Adrien sat quietly for a long minute, debating with himself. He had his hands linked together and he folded and unfolded his fingers a few times, before he began to speak. ]
Over half a dozen, that I know of ... so far. [ Call him pessimistic but he expects that number to rise.
But that's not the only reason he hesitated. Taking a breath, he starts to speak ... stops, licks his lips and his shoulders fall just a little further as he's tasked with these next words.
It's not that he hasn't had to deal with a death count before. Back on the Neheda it was a regular thing, though usually the officers performed the duty of listing off the names. Now that it's right in front of him, with Tony sitting just across from him, the words keep sticking in his throat.
He finally forced himself to look up and over into Stark's brown eyes; it was the least he could do for the other man. ]
Rogers, is among the dead.
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But then Adrien adds a name to it, and Tony goes momentarily, uncharacteristically still. What does it take to kill a super soldier? Something catastrophic, to be sure, since a ship going down didn't cut it the first time. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play.
Cap went down with the ship, almost certainly.
Well... that figures, doesn't it? Tony'd already suspected. Steve would've been all over the recovery and retrieval efforts, if he'd actually been there to do so. But that's one more confirmation of what he'd already been afraid of: despite their efforts, they didn't get everybody off in time. ]
Takes a lot to bring that guy down.
[ Muttered to nobody in particular, really. Just words for the sake of words. He sets the now-empty water bottle down, a little heavily. ]
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When I fuck something up, I like to do it right.
[ He said simply, before setting his hand down and moving to shove himself into position to get to his feet. ]
No sense indulging in bad judgement and doing so with half measures. [ He gritted out through a wince as he was forced to use his bad leg more than he would have liked. Damn fatigue. ]
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Nice try, sunshine, but I'm feeling like having a chat. I think your leg would probably agree.
[ If Adrien thinks he can sell Tony a tale about not blaming himself and then sit here and malign himself into personal ruination, he has another thing fucking coming. ]
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Warn a body will you? [ He does, however, sit back down with a deep sigh. ] I thought we worked well on the premises that we don't talk.
[ Letter writing was NOT talking, for the record. Letter writing was, in fact, an artful way to avoid talking. ]
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[ Once the doctor settles and Tony's convinced he isn't about to bolt for the hills (as well as he can on a fucked up leg, anyway) at the thought of being called out, Tony shifts his weight so that he can lean heavily against one of the nearby crates. Everything he can currently feel aches, which he's trying to ignore. ]
And anyway, I'm pretty sure I've run my mouth at you more than just about anybody else on this—
[ Ship he almost says, the phrase coming to him on instinct. The word sinks with his stomach and he lets it go. ]
It just really pisses me off to see someone beating me in the misery Olympics, given how I'm the undisputed best at everything I do.
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But Tony was someone to whom Adrien had 'run my mouth at' more than anyone else on the Moira, and was in the top five of people the doctor had ever truly taken into his confidence. He didn't want to have this conversation, but at the same time his gut told him that refusing Tony (especially Tony, especially now) would cement damage neither of their souls needed.
Leaning back against his own crate, he once again stretched out his bad leg and folded up the good, resting an arm across his knee. The position allowed him to watch the other man's face, even as it exposed his own. ]
While I appreciate your narcissistic need to be the best at everything you do, [ somehow 'narcissistic' managed to be affectionate here ] I meant what I said in that letter.
[ Pausing, he said the next words very deliberately and with the sort of complete conviction that could only come from truth. ]
This isn't on you. [ Again, he gave it a moment so the words could sink in to Tony's equally thick skull. ] It isn't on you, it isn't on your team. You were asked to pursue a course of action and in good faith, you delivered.
[ Reaching back to push his fingers through his hair, now Adrien looked down and away. ]
Turning on the Ingress was a risk and it was one I championed because I believed it was necessary. I pursued those journals, the information in them and I didn't give enough weight to the consideration that we were moving too fast.
[ Hindsight is a fucking bitch. ]
The risks were there. Living Energy, the length of time the Ingress had been malfunctioning, the physical evidence of Ploiatos and what the Ingress could do. It's not as if we were without the warning signs! [ His voice, usually so carefully modulated, had actually started to rise with the stress of genuine emotion and passion. Granted, it was anger at himself but it was perhaps the first time Adrien had allowed himself to be ... emotional.
Of course, he took a deep breath and quickly reined it in. Folding up his other knee, he braced both elbows atop them and folded his hands at the back of his neck, balling up on himself. ]
I can't help challenging myself about the decision to push this. Where was the line between my own anxiety about getting back to my world, and making a clear headed logical choice to pursue such a risky venture? What right did I have to shove the journals at you, dragged you into this ...
[ Gripping his hair, he clenched his fingers until he could feel the burn against his scalp. Eventually he relaxed his hold and looked back over at Tony, his expression was wrecked. ] I thought it was the right call, and it so spectacularly was not.
I've kept putting one foot in front of the other based solely on the belief that I'm meant to get back home and help that impossible cause. Those creatures, you saved my ass from, they're HQ's death squad, put into the field with a target to eliminate by any means necessary, and I don't know if they were there in real time or a future state.
Either way it suggests that at some point HQ is going to target me ... and now I can't even determine if I'll have done the right thing or just fucked it up beyond all reason [ Pointing in the general direction of where the Moira lay in pieces, he made an agitated gesture with his hand. ] But current evidence suggests the latter.
There are so many instances now where my life should have been forfeit, in fact twice that I have died and been brought back. [ The agitation was mounting again, so he paused and took a breath before he continued. ] And it's just ... why?
1/2 HOO BOY
No, you're right. This isn't on my team, because my team was doing what I told them to do, because we made a decision. Both of us. You don't get to absolve me of all guilt and then turn around and hang yourself on a cross. Guess what, champ? It doesn't work that way.
And for the record, I don't get "dragged into things," I make my own goddamn decisions. Turning on the Ingress was something I was going to do one way or another, with or without your support, so you can stuff the lone ranger villain shit. Arrogance is my shtick, not yours.
[ If Adrien's going to blame this all on himself, then he needs to have the decency of blaming Tony too, or else not at all. ]
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