Please state the nature of your medical emergency [Oct/Nov TL]

[lovinglefthand]

Who: First Aid (lovinglefthand)
What: post-TDM threads; settling in and meeting the neighbors
When: End of October and into November
Where: Marrow Island; Dr Winterbottom's Clinic, a toy store near you
Warning(s): Violence

Thread starters in comments below.

Smilin' Back [closed to Chris Freeman] (10/23)
Apple THIS! [closed to Erik Osborne] (10/25)

Comments

A few days after Ghost Stories... [Chris]

[lovinglefthand]

Normally First Aid is the first one up and moving around in the clinic -- as it should be, considering that he 'sleeps' there. He checks the boiler, unlocks the front door, and then starts a pot of tea in the little office that occupies the front of the clinic, with Chris's cup set up nearby for them to fill as soon as they get in. All this is as it should be, this particular morning -- but First Aid's cheerful greeting, normally given as soon as he hears Chris open the front door, is notably absent.

He's still there, though, you can hear him resterilizing all the equipment in the exam room. There's even a brief pause in the sound of metal gently handling metal, as if someone is wondering whether they should say anything or not, before it pointedly resumes.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

They've gotten used to hearing a greeting from First Aid in the mornings, enough so that the absence gives them pause.

"Everything all right back there?" Chris calls out, a note of worry in their voice.

[lovinglefthand]

"...yes!" First Aid calls back, after a pause long enough to completely undo any reassurance his answer might have provided.

He sighs and lets his forehead clunk against the cupboards over the exam room sink. It's not that he's in any pain, he's just embarrassed.

"I ran into a little trouble last night!" he calls. "But I'm fine. Everything's fine!"

Again: not reassuring. First Aid groans and readjusts the scarf (actually a folded-up sheet) hiding his face.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

And that'll be some silence from Chris as they digest that information.

They bypass the tea station and make their way to the exam room on silent, slippered feet. There is a high likelihood that when First Aid turns around, it'll be more or less right into Chris's face -- and Chris will lean in to peer at First Aid's mostly hidden face.

"Does your species have a similar cold tolerance to humans? We can add some wood to the furnace." Though the question is calmly, quietly asked, there's some impression of perhaps suspicion in the way that Chris is looking at First Aid. As though they expect bullshit in response.

Apple THIS (closed to Erik Osborne)

[lovinglefthand]

Doctor Winterbottom has a list. Not a bad list! It doesn't mean anything negative. It's just that there are certain people in town with certain needs, certain lifestyles, who would benefit from a degree of regular medical attention -- who simply haven't been receiving that attention, due to all the chaos that regularly affects Pumpkin Hollow! It's most unfortunate, but perhaps now that the good doctor has two able assistants, things may change for the better? Certainly First Aid is eager to both lighten her burden and do his duty to the community. For the public health!

Anyway that's why he's knocking on Erik's door early one morning, visor bright and plating shiny. Come on handsome, up and at them! It's time for your annual check-up!

[lordoftheozarks]

Who could be knocking at this hour? He doesn't get much demand for his services this early in the morning. Well, duty calls he supposes. Whoever it is, they are going to get a rare sight of the absolutely putrid bubblegum pink plaid flannel pajamas he woke up in after his death a month or so back. He knows he should count himself lucky that's all that happened but, really, these are a pattern and color even he can't make work. He's trying to hide as much of himself behind the door as he can when he cracks it open. Imagine his shock at seeing a... no, he's not sure he even has words for what it is he's seeing.

"Can I... help you?"

[lovinglefthand]

Why are humans so obsessed with pink??? God. Okay, dial it back First Aid. It's none of your business what your patient decides to wear in the privacy of his own home.

"Mr. Erik Osborne?" he checks, before politely extending a hand. "Actually, I'm here to help you. I'm First Aid, one of Dr. Winterbottom's new assistants? I'm told you're late for your check-up."

[lordoftheozarks]

"Lord Osborne," he corrects. Erik eyes the extended hand a moment before reluctantly taking it. Mustn't be rude.

"My what?" He almost laughs, as if he suspects it to be some type of prank. But. Oh...no. He's serious?

"I do not require a check-up. Thank you."

Post-Nightmare Carnival starters -- OTA [cw for altered mental states caused by trauma]

[lovinglefthand]

Morning after

In a terrible way it's to First Aid's benefit that he accidentally makes one of Dahlia Leeds' gardeners faint -- it gives him the excuse he needs to shove his recent, terrible experiences out of live memory and focus on performing his primary function instead. He can feel them churning away back there, his reality matrix starting to heat up as it tries to integrate the new data, but it doesn't stop him from taking the old man's vitals, checking the back of his head and his spine for injuries, and then carefully picking him up and carrying him back to the house.

He rings the doorbell, reflecting with a quiet sigh that his next defrag cycle is going to well and truly suck.

Walk of shame

By the time he's managed to extricate himself from the Leeds manor, he's had to manually trigger a memory core dump twice, and begun dissociating as a result. It's only reasonable he has to suppose, as he watches his own body walk back to the clinic like an extremely polite drone. Even taking it as a given that he may be existing in a near-death state due to the Hate Plague, he's never actually died before. He's never felt his plating break apart and his laser core melt. He's never felt his spark whirl and writhe as it tried to keep turning --

First Aid shudders hard and dumps core again, converting his memories of the past half-hour to read-only files and shoving the relevant experiential data to the back of the queue. He's going to walk back to the clinic. He's going to politely nod and exchange small talk with anyone who stops to greet him along the way, accepting thanks from the people he medivaced from the hall of mirrors with gracious calm. He's going to let himself into the clinic and lock the door behind him. And then maybe, if he's the first one there, he'll let himself have the panic attack that's building up in background processing.

He's a Protectobot, after all. He has to remain professional in front of the humans.

Iremosic Dystrophy

He forgets to lock the door.

Iremosic Dystrophy

[thelatechrisfreeman]

[[ OOC: Not sure yet if Chris is the one who dies in the duel to the death with Erik. I mean it's likely but who knows. If Chris died then he's also coming back to the clinic post-death because there's gonna be some need for doctoring. If by some miracle Chris didn't die, then he was away from the clinic helping with search efforts. There, bases covered. ]]

In this case, even if First Aid had locked the clinic door, it wouldn't keep Chris out. Chris has one of the keys.

For a second, Chris wonders if First Aid took that miniature ambulance form again for some reason -- he's curled up so tight on the floor. But the sobs coming from First Aid dispel that stupid thought and Chris just walks over quietly to kneel beside First Aid and put an arm around him.

No words. Not yet. Just a silent gesture to let First Aid know he's not alone.

[lovinglefthand]

It's only because it's Chris, because they're First Aid's friend and he's already promised not to hide from them, that he lets them get that close.

He's shaking so hard that it's rattling his vocalizer in its housing, producing a sound remarkably like a human's chattering teeth as he tries to speak. "Chris..." he groans. "I fucked up...I fucked up after all, I'm sorry..."

Even this is enough to trigger another wave of humiliation and terror from his emotional circuits, almost knocking his consciousness back out of his body. Chris isn't the one he owes an apology.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"You're okay," Chris says softly, "you're okay; it wasn't your fault. They made us all play their sick games and they wouldn't take no for an answer."

Chris holds on to First Aid despite the shaking. And they are silently cursing the big dumb alien robots who apparently thought it was a good idea to make a person whose first instinct is to care for others far more than he cares for himself.

"The only way wouldn't be forced into playing was if we'd run away. And I know that's not what you do."

Wildcard | Early November Visit

[somebodychildofanyone]

It takes River nearly eight days to show up during normal clinic hours. She's had time to brace for accusations and recriminations, but she's decided already that if First Aid doesn't know she killed him, well.

She's not about to bring it up. That was. Bad. Dredging it up can only make it worse, right?

And if this is truly a surgeon, a learned healer...she has some things he needs to know. She steps in out of the Autumn afternoon and carefully gets her ears out of her hood before lowering it.

[lovinglefthand]

In the absence of patients or anything in the clinic that needs cleaning -- in fact every fixture in the building is dust-free and sparkling, thank you -- First Aid had been lounging on his cinderblock chair in the corner of the reception room, doing some reading. Still such a novelty to just sit and read a book without straining the magnification on his optics or using a scalpel to turn the pages...

He's caught up in the story when he hears the door open, so it's in a half-distracted tone that he looks up and says, "Hello, what can I do for -- oh. Oh my goodness!"

He hurriedly fumbles the book to the side and stands up, approaching River anxiously. Her arms...Humanoids aren't supposed to be that hot, not unless they're actively on fire or running a dangerous fever...and even then, it wouldn't be concentrated in her arms!

"Miss, are you okay?" he asks, scanning her from head to toe. "I don't mean to alarm you, but I'm getting some strange readings on my sensors here. Please tell me what kind of assistance I can provide." Because genuinely? He has no clue.

[somebodychildofanyone]

"...I get the feeling I'm gonna learn a lot of fun new words in this conversation," River not-answers, with a friendly smile. Her ears bob, and then kinda.

Swivel.

In the general direction of First Aid, even as she holds up a hand in the universal 'give me a moment' gesture so she can shed her cloak and hang it up. Up closer we have some obvious signs of a fighter and laborer; swordsman's callouses on her hands, scars near her collarbone where someone trying to kill her did not succeed. With her cloak hung, River starts rolling up her sleeves, revealing a complex mesh of identical sigils carved into her arms, dug in deep with precise cuts.

Each glows like coals; if First Aid's clinic is lit by flame rather than electricity, they're brighter whenever the firelight is directly on them.

"...So I had some things to bring up, in the event of emergency treatment," River offers. "River la Croix, at your service. I run Infernal Arms and Armor as the resident smith."

Wildcard! [Clinic, a few days post-Carnival]

[hyliasblessing]

It is nearly the end of the shore leave she was given for Pumpkinfest, but Zelda wants to make one more quick stop before she returns to the Copper Coin.

She knocks lightly at the door of First Aid's clinic before letting herself in. "Hello? I'm here looking for First Aid--- the, ah, the person, I'm not in need of medical care."

[lovinglefthand]

"The clarification is appreciated!" First Aid calls back from the store room. He'd been taking inventory, but it can wait. He comes out to the reception area, putting his hands on his hips and speaking in a warm, friendly voice, "I'm First Aid. What can I do for you, miss?"

[hyliasblessing]

"Ah, hello there!" Goodness, he sure does cut an imposing figure. If it weren't for the crisp white paint job, he might look like a bit of Zonai technology. "I'm Zelda. Jean speaks highly of you and said I ought to drop by when I had a chance."

[lovinglefthand]

Do not be alarmed, tiny princess. This mech is a marshmallow.

"Oh, the madam princess!" First Aid laughs quietly as he explains, "Jean mentioned you to me as well. I'd been hoping our paths might cross."

Just Another Day on the Kaspbrak Farm...

[batteryacid]

Eddie isn't expecting any visitors, but that never stops him from greeting people warmly when they do show up. He's whistling cheerfully today, as he pulls up the stem and root systems for his previously harvested cabbage plants.

He'll have to use a different plot when he next grows cabbages, so the soil doesn't get worn out. He's got plans, as usual, for all of that. And the used-up parts he's pulling out will be composted for use elsewhere, if they're healthy-looking enough. Waste not.

Bobbin and Thread are pecking and picking at the few cabbage plants that ended up getting bugs in them -- Eddie having dumped a bucketful of said plants by the chicken coop. Missy the horse is wandering freely out behind the barn, doing her own thing. Quite the peaceful scene for First Aid to roll up on (or walk up to, depending on what mode he's in.)

[lovinglefthand]

First Aid is indeed on foot when he arrives; he couldn't rid of all the mud smeared on his legs, and he'd rather not contaminate his internals by transforming if he doesn't have to. But it's fine! Despite everything he's in high spirits -- it's a lovely day, cool enough that he barely has to run his fans at all but not so cold he has to break out the antifreeze. There are birds singing in the hedgerows. He's about to talk to Eddie again, about something he thinks will benefit both his new friend and the larger community. And, when the mud starts to dry out and tickle, he reflects that a farm almost definitely has a pump or well, so he'll able to wash it off soon.

"Eddie!" he calls out, waving cheerfully as soon as he spots the man kneeling in a plot of dirt. First Aid moves up closer to the fence, calling, "Do you have a few minutes? How have you been?"

[batteryacid]

Eddie waves back, and in response to First Aid's first question, he says, "Ayuh, all the time you need." There's only a row left of the cabbage plants. "If you don't mind me working as you talk, for a little while at least."

Eddie looks up, takes in First Aid's appearance. "You go off-roading?" he asks, with a small smile.

Clinic, early November

[not_a_corvid]

Maggie's been here a few days now, and that's long enough for both her curiosity to get the better of her, and some small amount of sense to weasel its way into her skull.

So she's come to have a sticky-beak at the clinic, quietly humming Spoonful of Sugar under her breath as she lets herself in and starts poking at anything not nailed down.

[lovinglefthand]

"One moment, please!" First Aid called from the backroom, where he'd been putting away the cleaning supplies. Which he's going to have to get back out, he realizes with a supressed sigh, as soon as he comes out to find someone wandering around touching things.

"Hello," First Aid says brightly, forcing himself to be cheerful and friendly. He's already picked two fights this week; he's going to try his absolute hardest not to make it three. "My name is First Aid; I'm one of the doctors who oversees this clinic. What can I do for you, ma'am?"

[not_a_corvid]

There's a moment where she almost looks like she's going to drop what she's holding and back away quickly to pretend she'd never touched anything. Instead she picks up something else.

"Oh, hi, I'm Maggie," she says with a smile, her head tilting quickly at odd angles as she takes in First Aid, "I was just uh, looking around. Scoping the place out. Wanna see what's available before I need it, y'know?"