video

[zen_en_vert]

Hello- everyone. Whatever we are.

My name is Doctor Bruce Banner. I'm- [not that kind of doctor, actually, but not going to overcomplicate this with semantics when the reality is he's perfectly capable.] -collecting medical supplies, and a record of who here knows what amount of first aid.

If any of you have any untreated injuries that you'd like to be seen, please let me know.

And a message, for going forward. One of the serious issues that we're going to have with this place will be dealing with the possibility of infection. Individually tailored cocktails of antibiotics are just not a reality right now. The supply of ointment is low.

That means that when you get cut, you need to take it seriously and you need to treat it immediately. Use soap, and warm water, and scrub your cuts. I know it's painful, if it isn't painful you're doing it wrong, but you need to take a soft clean cloth or a soft-bristled medical brush or sponge, and you need to scrub, with soap, under as steady a stream of hot clean water as you can get your hands on. Especially if there was dirt in the cut, or if you were bitten by some kind of animal. Obviously wash your hands as well before dressing a wound. So, that's the bad news, I guess?

If you need help, you can always get in contact with me. If you've got any first aid training, please get in touch here so we can pool our resources. Same thing if you'd like to get training.

If you're interested in helping, or learning to help at all, I have a building with electricity that I'm trying to clean and disinfect to the point where it will serve as a makeshift clinic until we can all get out of here.

Comments

[greywaren]

[Most people are offended or put off by Ronan's standoffish attitude, his secrecy, or just his general disdain of everyone around him- and it's difficult to blame them, to be honest. However, Bruce just seems to go with it, and the agreeableness gives Ronan pause, before he lifts up to sit on the table in compliance.

Bruce is being kind to him because he's valuable, maybe. He can get supplies that everyone needs. It's a mutually beneficial sort of thing, so Ronan isn't going to complain.]

It was a few days ago.

[Offering a bit more explanation.]

Nothing's broken. I've had boxing fractures before- this doesn't feel like that.

[zen_en_vert]

[Ronan, you paranoid little mess. Bruce looks him over quickly, in that case, peering at the worst of the wallops and then nodding, stepping back.]

I'll take your word for it. Table okay, then?

Any trouble putting weight on anything?

[greywaren]

[Hey, you'd be paranoid too if spilled secrets resulted in the destruction of your childhood. It's not quite that he suspects everyone of foul play though, so much as he simply expects the worst from everyone and doesn't particularly care when he's proven wrong.]

It's fine.

[The table, he means. Ronan lifts his hand a bit, trying to flex his fingers- it's a little difficult, with the degree of swelling. He sighs after a moment and starts to rattle things off, to make it a little easier on Bruce for treating him.]

The worst of it: I broke teeth with this hand and cut it up pretty good. [Motioning toward his brow-] I got hit in the head with a gun. My fingers got burned. He got me in the jaw, too- it kind of clicks when I open my mouth, but I don't think it's dislocated.

[He shrugs, dropping his hand again.]

If you can't do anything, it's- whatever. I didn't come here for this, I'm just dropping my shit off, man.

[zen_en_vert]

Who did this to you?

[He can't help but ask, as he looks him over- everything is really a bit too old for him to do too much about, though he checks each of them in sequence.]

Is it alright if I touch your jaw?

[greywaren]

[Bruce's request for permission does not go unnoticed, and it's enough to give Ronan pause before he nods shortly and tilts his head up to allow for it- warily though, like an injured animal.]

...someone else's hallucination bullshit. It's not here anymore.

[The corner of his mouth curls in a hint of a smile that could almost be genuine.]

You should see the other guy.

[zen_en_vert]

Well, small mercies.

[He gently, carefully, rests his fingertips over his jaw, right at the joint, and instructs;]

Open.

Closed.

Half way-

[Just checking to see if the joint is roughly where it should be.]

[greywaren]

[His jaw flexes at the request, and of course there's a strain that seems to pop at a certain tension- due to swelling more than any dislocation, it would seem. Ronan looks to him expectantly, with a weight in his shoulders despite his attempts at keeping the tone casual.]

I figured, if I needed my mouth wired shut it'd hurt way worse than this. How bad is it?

[Courteously, he tries not to move his mouth too much when he's speaking- don't want to throw off Bruce's focus, after all.]

[zen_en_vert]

How sure are you that this medication you found for me is safe?

[He wonders, stepping back, and lowering his hands.]

You're fine. You're going to be fine. But you'll be fine much more quickly if you take an anti-inflammatory for a couple of days.

[greywaren]

[There's a pause at that- and it's not because Ronan isn't sure, but rather, that he's trying to view this from all angles, trying to be absolutely sure.]

I'm sure it won't hurt me.

[Which is definitely true. He's also fairly sure that it will work perfectly on him. Still-]

Safe for other people, yes. Effective, maybe. Does this mean I'm your guinea pig?

[zen_en_vert]

Only because I can't test it on myself. My biology isn't normal, I could eat arsenic.

[Explaining, as he goes to begin unpacking the things he's brought.]

[greywaren]

What?

[He remembers the idle statement before, something about not being able to hurt this mild mannered doctor with his knife. Ronan turns his head toward him then, attentive for what's probably the first time since he's arrived.]

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

[zen_en_vert]

I mean, I have been shot in the head and walked away.

[He says, looking him in the eyes.]

I told you. I'm not- someone people should attack.

[greywaren]

Why?

[Ronan isn't bolting, not yet, but that doesn't mean that he's taking this without much concern, either.]

What's wrong with you?

[zen_en_vert]

I was exposed to unusually- nearly fatally high levels of gamma radiation. This was one of the unforeseen side effects.

[greywaren]

[Ronan just blinks at him.]

So... what? [He hears fatal, hears radiation, and draws any natural conclusion a seventeen year old boy probably would.]

You have super-cancer or something?

[zen_en_vert]

Don't be ridiculous.

I have a condition where my body reacts to stress by manifesting spontaneous properties. Anger, or enough fear and pain, makes me- transform.

Like a werewolf, sort of, but without the wolf part.

[greywaren]

[Ronan glares.]

Radiation sounds more like cancer than it does werewolf.

[And, after a moment-] Can you do it now? Transform, I mean.

[zen_en_vert]

No. It's painful, and it's dangerous.

[A mild shrug.]

And of the two of us, Ronan, you have bigger secrets.

[greywaren]

[Ronan darkens at that, easily defensive.]

There's this phrase about gift horses and mouths. You should look it up.

[zen_en_vert]

I'm asking. I'm just not taking shit for it, either.

[Mild, and bland as can be.]

[greywaren]

[The curse sounds so strange coming from Banner's mouth that Ronan actually seems a little less dangerous for a moment, maybe vaguely appreciative. Still, he recovers quickly and shrugs, hostile again.]

I could have lied to you about it, you know. You wouldn't know the difference.

[Despite the apprehension, Ronan's voice is smooth, a polished dagger.]

But I don't lie to people. You honor your side of the agreement and I'll honor mine and we won't have any problems. We clear?

[zen_en_vert]

Calm down.

[He finally gets to the core of it.]

Calm down. You relate to other people like something in the room is on fire. This is not a calamity. I haven't bet you any money. Calm down, Ronan.

[greywaren]

[And there's the crux of it- Ronan just has this intensity to him that's near-impossible to shut off. He jumps in anger at the slightest provocation, gets defensive, harsh, and overall just can't talk to people.

His jaw tightens at the insistence, and he shakes his head.]

I am calm.

[No. But he's in control, which is something.]

I just- look, do you have another list for me? More shit you need? Or do you just want more of the same?

[zen_en_vert]

Yes.

[He goes to pad off and find it; cleaning supplies, scalpels and other surgical tools, bunsen burners, an autoclave. More painkillers, more antibiotics, more of a lot of the rest.]

Thank you, again.

[greywaren]

[He nods and shoves the paper in his pocket, crumpling it as he does. When he speaks again, it's a few moments later, and he's regained enough composure to change the subject- not really with a lot of tact, but at least it's something else.]

Have you talked to Parrish yet?