Dr. Adrien Arbuckal (
prorenataa) wrote in
thisavrou2016-11-21 10:21 pm
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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?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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?" ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
Y'know. Three days before the Ingress pulled me here, I watched an army cut through space and turn my city into rubble, right on my front doorstep. And there wasn't a damn thing I or anyone else could do about it. [ He doesn't talk about this - hasn't talked about this, really, at all, ever, even if it feels like it's dogged his every step since he arrived in space. But it's important to understanding the point he's trying to make. ] That was the first time, but it isn't going to be the last. I started thinking about how to prepare ourselves. I didn't really get that far, but fortunately my pals from home let me in on some spoilers.
[ Tony pauses and reaches over to pluck up Iron Man's helmet, turning it over in his hands. He just feels better holding it, maybe. He'd feel better wearing it, but he hasn't reached that level of ridiculousness yet. ]
Whenever I finally get to leave this shitty place, I'm going to go home and design a peacekeeping program, because somebody has to do something, right? Well, that program is going to annihilate an entire city. [ His fingers go briefly white-knuckled on the helmet as he fidgets, just for a second. ] And if it's true what they say about how memories work when we go home, there probably isn't a single thing I can do to avoid that happening, no matter how many knots I tie myself into while I'm here. Would it be better if I'd just thrown in the towel? I have no idea, and neither does anybody else. So I've got two options: sit on my hands and stop doing anything, because sometimes good intentions lead to bad outcomes no matter how hard you try...
Or I can remember each shitty mistake and use it to make sure there's never a repeat performance, because nobody learns the moral of the story better than the moron who screwed up in the first place. It doesn't matter now whether we — we — made the right call here. You told me if I needed time to be angry, or sad, or furious, or — whatever, that I should take it. [ And, yes, he's evidently memorized at least portions of that letter. ] Fine. But you're alive, and no matter how you feel about that, there's probably a reason for it.
[ Tony drops the helmet onto the craggy ground between them. It's scratched and dented, covered in splatters of blood in a rainbow of colors, with a crack through one eye that implies something was going for gold at some point during the fighting. But the message is clear: it's battered and looks like shit right now, but sooner rather than later, he's going to put it back on. ]
So once you're done being angry and sad, we're getting off our older, wiser, bitterer asses and making damn sure this never happens again.
no subject
He hadn't said what he'd said to Tony looking for sympathy, and in fact perhaps there was a part of him looking for just this sort of ass kicking. But more important was the truth in the words. Adrien would always take truth over empty platitudes.
When Tony calmed slightly but then launched into the true heart of his thoughts, the doctor continued to sit quietly. His eyes tracked the movement with the suit's helmet, marking not only the comfort and strength Tony drew from it but also it's general condition and how it sat between them.
Only once Stark had stalled in the flow of words, did the doctor slowly lever himself forward. ]
I've always wondered, what it was you saw that had affected you so. [ He said quietly and without judgement. Reaching out a hand, he didn't touch the helmet, though he did air trace it's hard, set frown. ] I grew up, knowing about other species but I honestly don't know how I would have responded, if HQ had appeared in the sky, targeting Earth.
[ Would he have been shocked into immobility? Would he have jumped to fight an impossible battle? Adrien knew which answer he wanted but if he was truthful, he couldn't say for certain. ] I'd say you're a credit to yourself, that you didn't spend the first week curled up under your bunk.
[ Sitting back, before he gave in to the desire to pick up the helmet, Adrien leaned back on the crate. ]
Two planets. [ He said quietly, lifting his fingers in that number. ] And an asteroid base. But I know when I go back, it's a drop in the bucket to the number of planets I'll help destroy before anything can be done about it. [ He's not trying to diminish what that city, those people will mean to Tony but it, did seem that the root of both their horror in these losses, was to the same location. ]
If we can't believe we're doing the right thing, Tony ...
[ A crisis of confidence wouldn't be as difficult, if they could manage not to actual care about the human cost in these risks. But in the end, he reached up and rubbed the heel of his hand against his eye. ]
I don't think we get to decide that it never happens again, because I think you know, as well as I do, that it's always going to be a risk. [ A risk without a 100% success rate. ]
When I first came to the Moira I told myself I wasn't going to get involved. I was going to sit on my hands, going to just do my shift in the Medbay, collect my paycheck and that was that. Turns out apathy is easier in theory than in practice.
[ Because Tony was right. There was no viable option, than to get up off their older, wiser(?), bitterer asses and keep trying. At least the stubborn, melancholy idiot was speaking in terms of 'we' rather than 'I'.]
no subject
He just watches Adrien like a hawk - notes the liberal use of "we" - and tries to decide whether he's getting through or not. It seems like he is, at least, which is good enough for now. ]
No offense, [ said in a tone that implies full offense ] but I don't think sitting on your hands suits you anyway.
You're right, we're gonna fuck up, but as far as I can tell, the only thing worse than that is apathy. [ He thinks about all the years he spent blind to Stane's wrongdoings because he'd been so wrapped up in anything but what mattered. That's exactly the kind of person he never wants to be again. ] I'm sure there's some psychology text somewhere that could back me up, but I'm just gonna take credit for it, because I said it.
[ And anyway, a guy who gets spat out in a different dimension and still prioritizes fixing the messes of his previous one is hardly the kind of person who'd be content to sit back and let someone else deal with the important problems. ]
no subject
Adrien wasn't unaware that Tony leverage that ego -or at least the appearance of one- as his own defense mechanism; even against himself. Lowering his head, he pressed his forehead to his knees and after a moment, exhaled a long and deep breath before he spoke; voice muffled behind his legs. ]
How are you doing at telling this to yourself?
no subject
Still, Adrien's no fool. He wouldn't have written that letter if he didn't know full well some of what's going on in Tony's head. So far, all his energy has gone into what needs to come next. Putting one foot in front of the other, as Adrien describes it. If nothing else, Tony's always been good at dusting himself off and resuming the slow, steady march over the coals. ]
I'm faking it til I make it. How'm I doing?
[ He hasn't had a breakdown or an anxiety attack yet, so y'know what, he'll take that victory for what it is. ]
no subject
Yes the coffee beans and the A.I. coffee pot had survived.
There was no fingers in the hair, knotting it this time. In fact, Adrien surfaced and set his chin on his knees, blue eyes studying Tony for a long moment. ]
What's going to happen when you have to slow down and rest? Will the exhaustion be enough or is that hyperdrive mind of yours going to try to kill you?
no subject
At the question, Tony just smiles blandly and with no humor whatsoever. ]
If it hasn't managed so far, I doubt it's going to. [ Honestly. ] But if it's any consolation, do you really see anything slowing down at any point in the immediate future?
[ The only break they've gotten so far has involved being drugged out of their minds and trapped on a planet for a year. ]
no subject
He snapped back to himself and simply gave a shake of his head. ]
Unlikely. [ He said, moving once again to get up to his feet. ] Speaking of which, I need to get back to trying to coordinate what we have left.
I haven't seen or heard from McCoy since the ship went down.
no subject
The prospect of having to do it himself is even more so, which is why he doesn't yet make a move to do so. ]
That figures.
[ Muttered under his breath, that part, because of course they'd be short on doctors when they really need them. Then, louder, as he reaches over to pull the helmet back into his lap. ]
I'm going back to salvage what I can. [ He glances around the makeshift medtent, taking note of what already seems to be present. ] What are you dying to have?
no subject
The truth was, he could reel off quite the list of items he'd like to secure from the wreckage. However, he quickly sorted through that which he could go scavenging for at a later date, tried to identify what would benefit from Tony's skill set and then prioritized from there.
Because he would not be surprised to learn that the man was going to be working himself into the ground, flying back and forth. ]
Portable power.
If it's possible to find something or put something together. We packed the Medbay equipment but without a power source it's all nothing but fancy bricks. I know we have the Cybertronians and other androids but they're going to need to conserve their power for their own needs.
(no subject)