hadriel | video

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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?

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.

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?

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

[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?

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.

[Ronan glares.]

Radiation sounds more like cancer than it does werewolf.

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

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

[A mild shrug.]

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

[Ronan darkens at that, easily defensive.]

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

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

[Mild, and bland as can be.]

[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?

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.

[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?

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.

[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?

Yes. It was nice to meet him, he's obviously bright- dedicated.

[He says, with a nod.]

I enjoyed it.

[There's probably no point in threatening Bruce. The idea that Ronan will try to hurt him if Adam in any way comes to harm may as well be implied, with all of the violence and obvious dedication Ronan has to them.

So instead he nods, snakelike as he slips off the table.]

He's smart as fuck. Good at stitches, too.

[There's a slight pause, a vaguely softer consideration before Ronan continues, his voice slightly less edged.]

He'll undersell himself. Don't believe him when he says he's not good at something.

He's lucky to have a friend like you.

[He promises, with a nod.]

Thank you for your hard work with all of this. These supplies will hopefully do some good.

[Ronan isn't sure what to do with the compliment, so he just doesn't respond to it, instead offering a short nod at the comment about their supplies.]

I'll be back in a week or so, if we're not all fucking dead by then.

[Still a likely possibility, in his mind.]

Or out.

[Bruce is still determined to get home.]

[Ronan shrugs his shoulders once, grabbing at the bag he'd brought, now that the supplies have been delivered. He makes sure that all of the things inside are set on the counter before he slings it over his shoulder again.]

Be careful what you wish for, man. Fucking with things, trying to get out- that's how we ended up here in the first place.

I'll get you to tell me that story, sometime.

Sometime.

[He agrees, a little mollified by the trip- it didn't quite go as poorly as he was expecting. Nevertheless, Ronan turns to leave shortly afterward, his fingers curling around the crumpled list in his pocket.]

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