[Sickbay]: Round 21 Scans and Vaccines

[ten_fwd_npcs]

If this is your first trip to Sickbay, you may be surprised to see that it's a fairly ordinary-looking hospital. There are no terrifying devices or humming machines you might see in a sci-fi thriller. The biobeds along the walls are equipped with biofunction monitors, but look fairly standard. Instead of silver trays filled with metal tools and sawblades, there are an array of small devices that look as harmless as cell phones. As for the staff, they're all well-groomed and friendly — even the more unusual aliens.

If you're new to the ship, no doubt you've been escorted here by the security team. Nothing to worry about, the doctors just want to make sure you aren't carrying any viruses or are vulnerable to terrible space disease. Once you've been checked over — a quick scan from a tricorder and any necessary vaccines — you'll be free to go. Lollipops are optional.

"All right, step on in," one of them calls out as you enter. "Don't be afraid. It's just a scan and a hypospray, nothing to worry about."


[ooc: Sickbay is, as always, OTA and open until the next one goes up for latecomers! For new characters: tagging isn't mandatory but IC going to sickbay is. If you'd prefer to skip threading with one of our doctors, you can handwave that your character got a clean bill of health and a shot and were sent on their merry way. There will be a post up in the OOC comm shortly with more details about Sickbay and which doctors are on deck this month, if you have any questions.]

Comments

[anexquisitecreature]

A shit one, to be honest.

And at least here, there are other mutants. Who apparently have a version of him as their father, but hey. She's not Other Her, either.

Mystique stares at Erik for a long, heavy moment, and if he doesn't break her gaze, he'll probably catch the acquiescence in her yellow eyes before she opens her mouth.

"...okay. Let's do that."

[prefers_magneto]

He doesn't ask 'Really?', because he sees the truth in her eyes and believes what comes out of her mouth. He nods decisively one more time then glances around before looking back at her.

"You've lived a normal life. How do we start?"

I STILL do not have a decent blue smiling face that I like.

[anexquisitecreature]

She grins.

"The same way I start just about anything."

Food. She's pretty sure he knows that, but just in case, she waits to see.

[prefers_magneto]

His lips twitch into a hint of a smile and he inclines his head towards the replicator.

"I hear it can make anything."

[anexquisitecreature]

Ha. He does know her.

"If it made that lasagne earlier, then I have some small faith in it."

It was good. Really good.

She stands again and moves over to the fancy machine in the wall, and beckons him over with a tilt of her head.

"What do you want?"

[prefers_magneto]

He considers it, then, standing necessarily close to her but leaning towards the machine. He orders in German, Rinderrouladen with Spätzle.

A seasoned stuffed beef roll with gravy and egg noodles appears. He glances at her and shrugs, taking it from the machine. He steps to the table and picks up a fork, slicing off a piece, stabbing a few Spätzle and pops it in his mouth.

"Pretty authentic, to be honest."

[anexquisitecreature]

Necessarily close is an obvious requirement of the space allotted for the machine, but the change in timbre of his voice when he switches to German right by her ear is unexpected. He sounds... not like someone else, but like a softer, truer version of himself. He Who Was. She can't name the feeling that evokes.

Nor can she name a food so clearly from her own native childhood; what memories she holds of her earliest years are less than reliable and not overly happy.

His smells really good, and she eyes it for a moment before asking for a proper Chicago deep dish four cheese pizza - and some biscuits for Mojo. He ate a big lunch.

[prefers_magneto]

They wouldn't want the mutt getting fat.

He doesn't even think about the linguistic shift. He uses languages as they're convenient or expedient. There was a time, after the war, when he was afraid of being heard speaking German. Fear taught him English. But he hasn't thought about it in a while. He sits at the table again, taking another couple of bites before pushing his plate towards her.

"Do you want to try it?"

[anexquisitecreature]

There's coddling your dog and being irresponsible. She intends only to be guilty of the former. And, you know, not dwell on her childhood.

At his offer, she raises an eyebrow, and has to finish her mouthful of (pretty damn good) gooey, cheesy pizza before replying.

"Thanks." There's a hint of uncertainty; this isn't something he cooked for them (when did that become a thing). "It smells pretty great."

Her expression of delight when she tries it probably says everything

[prefers_magneto]

It does.

"Familiar food is new to our space travel experience," he noted. The Egime was all whatever nonperishables they could scavenge from planets they stopped at and whatever that blue goo was. "This is an upgrade." In a lot of ways.

d'awww some of my tag went missing. :(

[anexquisitecreature]

She's half-tempted to take another bite, but it's his meal, not hers; even though the replicator is right there, it's still pretty rude. So she pushes his plate back, and hers with it, the offer implied.

"I can only think of one way to make it better," she says, getting up to see if the replicator will give them beer.

NOOO TAG NO.

[prefers_magneto]

He would have been happy for her to have another bite. Or four. He takes a slice of pizza when it's offered and watches her go back to the replicator.

"Oh? What's that?"

[anexquisitecreature]

He says that now, but she'd have taken those four and made it 'Erik, get yourself another Spatzleburger', so really, this is better.

Poking experimentally, she finds an interactive menu, and returns triumphantly with two beers in brown glass bottles. Or close enough to it.

"You making it yourself."

She assumes he knows how.

[prefers_magneto]

And then sometimes she'll flatter him and it makes his heart skip a little and he tamps it down. He reaches for the beer with a bit of a smile.

"Looks like they don't do kitchens here. It's always something, isn't it?"

He takes a sip of the beer.

[anexquisitecreature]

She'd say oops, but she probably wouldn't mean it, and anyway, he's eaten his cooking. It's good cooking.

"The replicator gives me raw meat for Mojo," she points out after a mouthful of cheesy gloriousness. "I bet we could ask for ingredients and implements, if we phrased it right."

Assuming he wants to cook. He might not want to.

[prefers_magneto]

"That's an idea," he notes.

He wants to for the way she looks at him when he does it.

"Implements including a heating implement."

[anexquisitecreature]

"And an apron."

She grins.

"You need to wear an apron."

Part of her - a part that hasn't thought so in a long time - wants him to wear just the apron, and she's blaming the way he's smiling.

[prefers_magneto]

He doesn't assume that, but the comment only increases that smile's breadth and the way amusement is dancing in his eyes.

"An apron. Like a Hausfrau."

[anexquisitecreature]

That's because she's given him no reason to think so at this point. Their first day in yet another brand new universe isn't going to be the day she does so, either. She committed to being a multiversal travel buddy along with their dog, and that's plenty for one day.

"Exactly like that."

She's on slice three of four of her personal pizza, and half her beer is gone.

"It's up to you if you put curlers in your hair."

[prefers_magneto]

He slides his fingers into his hair, pulling it to its full length and raising an eyebrow.

"Do you think it's long enough?"

[anexquisitecreature]

Head tilted, she examines his hair, then leans over and slides her fingers in directly beneath his, pushing them up as she measures the length for herself.

"Maybe the really narrow ones," she concedes, then messes his hair deliberately before moving to withdraw her hand. "Pink, obviously. It's so your colour."

[prefers_magneto]

He snorts. "Pink hair curlers and a frilly apron," he says, absently smoothing his hair back into place. "Very attractive."

[anexquisitecreature]

She reaches instinctively to tidy a piece he's missed, then realises after she's already got her fingers in his hair again that she's being a little invasive.

Her hand falls to the table, then picks up her beer.

"Don't knock it til you try it."

[prefers_magneto]

It's an invasiveness he honestly doesn't mind, coming from her. Though he's certain it would be inappropriate to acknowledge that.

He picks up his own beer, amusement still in his eyes as he takes a drink.

"I'll keep it in mind. We'll test the limits of this machine."

[anexquisitecreature]

Maybe not inappropriate. Slightly awkward would be closer. Either way, probably better he doesn't.

"Testing and costumes and space, oh my," she toasts him in return, then inhales the rest of her slice. One to go, and she'll ask the thing for dessert in an hour or so.

"So. Other than meeting your future maybe daughters, did you come across anyone useful? I met a vet. Super handy. Serendipitous, even."