“What’s your name?”
“What?”
Darren smiled, leaning heavily on his staff. The woman looked about as conversational as she always did, which wasn’t very, but he had at least gotten her to stop walking. It was a start, if nothing else. “Your name. What is it?”
She eyed him suspiciously, as if wondering if he was going to be using the information for some evil purpose, but after a moment she shook her head slightly. He couldn’t help but admire the way her pale blonde hair swished back and forth when she did it. “Stacia.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance, Stacia,” he rasped, still grinning. “I’m Darren, as you probably already knew.”
“Yeah,” she responded shortly, now giving him a new look that was just as distrustful as the previous. At least she hadn’t gone power-walking off into the distance just yet. “Why do you always look at me like that?”
“What?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. “How do I look at you?” They were just outside the lounge, and thankfully there wasn’t anyone else around at the moment. If someone happened to walk by he was sure she’d have bolted like a rabbit being shot at by a bazooka.
“You… you just do it. You look at me. I always see you doing it. Why?”
“Because you’re nice to look at,” he replied without hesitating, and her cheeks reddened slightly before she stiffened, visibly irritated by her own reaction. Her grey eyes were difficult to read, but he thought he caught glimpses of something akin to embarrassment in them.
“No, I’m not,” she said quietly, turning her head slightly so as to made the scar running down one of her cheeks less visible.
To answer her, Darren lowered his hood and turned his head, revealing the scales he typically made some kind of an effort to conceal. Most people around the base had at least caught a glimpse of them by that point, but he had never willingly displayed them to someone in such close proximity.
She took a step closer, her lips parted as she reached out; her fingertips brushed against the scales behind his left ear, and then she appeared to catch herself. Without another word she turned and walked away, her brisk pace indicating she’d done something she hadn’t intended on. Darren stood there for a moment, watching her leave, before wordlessly turning to enter the lounge behind him.
(S)
Stefan had agreed to come on Viktor's excursion. With what the man went through, he'd probably need a doctor coming along for the ride. The past few days had been spent mostly preparing salves and pills, both to bring on the job and to leave in the treatment room for the medical workers who stayed behind. After a good night's sleep and a nice breakfast, he was hard at work once again, carefully loading vials of pastes and compressed pills into a variety of leather pouches on a harness. Along with those, he loaded a backpack with surgical supplies and aid kits. In all, he was very prepared to treat a lot of potential wounds. Until they got the call to leave, he set all those aside on an empty counter.
"Nadia, send for Darren, please? It's about time to fix that leg of his," He said to an assistant washing some scalpels. She nodded, and after cleaning a few of the tools, went to look for the scaly-headed man. Stefan thanked her, and in the meantime, took over with the cleaning.
(D)
“What?” he rasped, and the woman repeated herself. “Oh, yeah. The leg,” Darren said, feeling a pang of trepidation as he rose from his seat in the lounge. He’d taken to hanging out in there, even with his refusal to drink given what he and Viktor had experienced shortly after his arrival at the base. He liked the setting, mostly because it was public, and it was easier to avoid certain people if there were fewer witnesses present. Beyond that, he liked getting caught up in the conversation around him, and there was the added bonus of seeing friendly faces from time to time.
He limped after her, mindful of the glances he got as they moved; his reputation, whether it was as a mutant, the man who’d nearly died after drinking something that wasn’t alcohol with Viktor, or the guy who’d nearly lost a nipple to a certain Polish woman, seemed to precede him. He didn’t really mind; at least the stories had given way to a number of introductions and checkers games. He was anything but bored, those days.
They reached Stefan’s working area and the mutant grinned, his nervousness regarding what would be happening to his leg fading as he glimpsed the familiar mask. “Doctor, it’s good to see you,” he grated.
(S)
Darren's voice was unmistakable. The deep rasp accompanied by his ever-present friendly tone made him stand out among the crowd, and as Stefan heard it, he turned away from the sink, hand drying a tool. It wasn't as effective as an autoclave would have been, but their was in the shop for maintenance, so boiling water and antibacterial detergent was the next best thing they could do. Stefan smiled, nodding a little bit to acknowledge Darren's greeting, as his mask hid his expression. "Ah, welcome back! Good to see Viktor hasn't gotten you into any more trouble. How have you been?" He stowed his current work away, setting the scalpel into a drawer.
That done, he took some steps forward and offered Darren a handshake. "I do hope you're ready. Resetting bones is never a fun affair. Of course, we've got some pretty good painkillers here. You'd be amazed at what the right combinations of plant toxins can do." He motioned with his head towards one of the makeshift hospital beds, its IV stand set up and ready. While Darren settled in, Stefan opened a refrigerator to gather some fluids to work with. He hung the bags on the stand, talking about what they were all the while. "This one is saline. That is, water with a bit of salt. It'll help carry the painkillers into your system. What we have isn't quite morphine, but it's got a good kick." Said painkillers were a milky-looking substance, kept in a small glass vial. Stefan plucked it from the shelf and showed it to Darren, the label handwritten with the more important information about the medicine. "You shouldn't feel too much, ideally."
(D)
“I’ve been good. I spent some time getting acquainted with the base, and I’ve been keeping my distance from bottles with mushrooms printed on them. Good life lesson, that,” he said with a grin and a hearty chuckle as he shook Stefan’s hand. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, even if the timing means I’ll be missing out on Viktor’s mission. At least once I’m healed up I should be more useful, without the limp and all. I really appreciate this, Doc,” he added in a more serious croak as he got into the bed indicated by Stefan. “I’m sure you’ve got more than enough on your hands already. Taking the time to help an old mutant with bad skin and a shitty leg, that takes a man of quality.”
He looked around, focusing on Stefan’s words regarding the painkillers at his disposal. The man was certainly not without his resources, which definitely helped matters a great deal. “Whatever the ingredients might be, I trust you, Stefan. I’m ready whenever you are.”
(S)
The doctor laughed a bit as well. Indeed, avoiding the fluids of unfamiliar fungi was best for one's health. "You've got a very good point there," He agreed. As Darren moved away from the jokes, Stefan smiled again, and though it remained hidden by the beak of his mask, his tone was clearly uplifted. "It's what I do best, friend. After all, we've got to stick together." The exact meaning behind that may have been unclear, but given how extremely bundled up he was, there were some educated guesses once could make.
With another nod, he began to gather necessary supplies for the infusion. Plastic tubing, a syringe, a cloth, and some killer-proof alcohol were plucked from various shelves and placed on the counter. "We'll start off with the painkillers to give them a few minutes to kick in. Once you've gotten happy enough, the unfun part begins. It involves breaking the bone and adjusting it so it sets more correctly. Done well, this will get rid of that limp, and hopefully make moving around a bit easier for you. Now, to start with, I need to see just how bad the fracture healed."
Before he filled needles and connected bags to tubes, he walked to Darren's side and placed a hand on his shin. Moments later, said hand began to look very odd, turning a misty black and seeming to flicker as it slowly sunk into Darren's leg. Stefan felt the bone, slowly moving his hand up and down the limb. When he felt an odd bump, he stopped. "Ah, there it is." He removed his hand, rolled up Darren's pant leg so it was above the break, and made a small mark on his skin with an ink pen. "Now, with some assistance, we can get this done."
(L)
"I can assist."
She hadn't appeared to really enter the surgical suite, so much as simply begin to exist beside Darren's hospital bed. Whether she'd been standing silently nearby the entire time or hiding under the bed might never be revealed, but Liliana was there, her blank stare fixed upon the mask over Stefan's eyes. It actually wasn't completely strange for her to be in the area; she'd functioned as an assistant of sorts in the medical rooms for the past few days on and off, relieving the doctor's more permanent and experienced nurses or simply helping to clean, pack or make supplies. It was impossible to tell if she actually enjoyed the job, but she did continue to show up for random shifts and projects. Usually by less abrupt means.
(D)
Darren swore loudly and jumped, nearly falling out of the bed completely. His pants leg snagged on the side rail and he flopped over, his right elbow hitting the ground while his lower body remained up top with the linens. “****,” he grumbled, pulling himself back up with an effort, all while keeping an eye on the woman who appeared to have walked through the wall. To say she made him wary was a drastic understatement, but Liliana was so small and unassuming that he was sure he’d have been ridiculed for saying he was afraid of a Polish woman almost a foot shorter than him.
“Y-you’re going to assist?” he rasped, turning from her to the doctor with wide eyes. “What's going on with those painkillers, Doc?”
(S)
While not entirely expected, Darren's reaction was quite reasonable considering the last time he'd seen Liliana's techniques used on him during a treatment. Still, she was good help, and every extra hand in the infirmary was highly appreciated. Stefan glanced between the two, nodding to the small woman. Volunteered services from someone who knew what they were doing were always nice, even if said someone had a habit of appearing out of nowhere. If he hadn't known any better, he'd have guessed she'd walked through a wall into the office, yet she'd displayed no visible mutations suggesting she could do such a thing.
"Liliana's been lending a hand here quite a lot during your group's stay. She does a good job, too. Even the rowdiest Stalkers tend to cooperate when she's in the room. Can't imagine why." Stefan's voice took on a playfully sarcastic tone towards the end of his sentence, attaching tubing to the bags and a needle to the end of said tubes. He lightly saturated a part of the cloth with the alcohol, then rubbed it on Darren's arm to clean a space for injection. "On their way. This may pinch a little," He warned, feeling around for a vein before slipping the needle in. The tubing was then secured with a bit of gauze tape. With that done, he turned away from the two for a moment, preparing a syringe meant for use with the bag's tubing with an appropriate dose of the painkillers.
(L)
She watched Darren fall and clamber back up without batting an eye. After receiving the doctor's nod, Liliana calmly stepped over to some cabinets across the room and fished around in the back of them, standing on her tiptoes. After a second she withdrew a large black case and set it on the stand at the base of Darren's bed, beside some probably-sterile matting, and clicked it open; with a bright light shining from behind her, she withdrew a long, slender and wicked-looking bonesaw with wide, curving teeth set on the end of something like half of a scissors handle. The jagged, sharp edge glinted in the light against her silhouette and she held it steady, staring with eyes full of nothing at Darren.
With slowness that would have seemed very deliberate had anyone else done it, she set the saw down and removed another instrument from the case. This one looked like a pair of giant pliers, the biting end of them fixed with thick, metallic blades. She clamped them once, loudly, still maintaining eye contact with the scaly mutant on the bed, and set them next to the horrific saw. A long, rounded chisel and hammer, more resembling a railroad spike and a sledge, followed, and finally an old, loud drill. The Polish woman tested the charge, still staring at Darren.
The last things to be removed from the case were an ordinary scalpel and few differently sized blades, which she unloaded a bit quicker, along with some topical disinfectants.
(S)
An uncomfortable silence struck as Liliana began to display a frankly concerning amount of tools, many of which looked like they had no place in a surgery room in the first place. It wasn't a terribly uncommon phenomenon to repurpose things if they could be useful otherwise, but a few of them seemed to catch Stefan off guard. The good doctor wouldn't have knowingly stowed something he couldn't use in the room. With the filled syringe in hand, he looked the various instruments over, shaking his head a little at the full display. "The gardening crew must have misplaced some of their things in the wash. Oh well. If it comes to it, I suppose we could get some use out of those things." Little more time was wasted in the preparations, and the syringe's contents found their way into the tube that led directly to Darren's bloodstream. Soon enough, the patient would be
very out of it, if not entirely unconscious.
As the medicine made its way into his arm, Stefan noticed Darren was looking quite discomforted. Liliana's menacing stare certainly didn't help matters, but he tried to offer some reassurance. "Don't worry too much, with this, you probably won't even remember the next hour. Just close your eyes and try to relax."
(L)
It wasn't long before Darren was on another plane of existence and Stefan was bent over the offending limb, his face presumably contorted with concentration. Liliana watched as he set his hand in a very specific position over the small mark on the other mutant's leg and slowly phased through his flesh, muscles tensing all the way up to his shoulder as he gradually squeezed the bone tighter and tighter. She assumed he was using a fair bit of force after a few moments, but there still were no sounds of cracking or shattering. The doctor finally withdrew his hand after a last burst, then rubbed the top of his mask contemplatively, still staring at Darren's leg.
(S)
"Hmph. Well, I can't say I'm surprised that didn't work. The fracture was healed already, but this is harder than I imagined it would be." Stefan frowned, giving one more attempt to snap the mishealed bone without ghosting his hands into Darren's leg. When it failed, he turned his gaze up to Liliana, then motioned toward the mark. "Time to try out the hammer. I'd normally ask an assistant not to get too overzealous with the thing, but with how built up the healing is, we may as well do what we can. When you're ready." When he finished talking, he gripped Darren's leg tightly on either side of the target mark, bracing it for the impact of the hammer.
(L)
Liliana listened patiently, then glanced through the available supplies, her gaze indiscriminately sizing up medical and gardening tools alike for a suitable hammer. She picked up a more moderately-sized one and tested the weight for a moment, then looked at Darren's glazed-over expression and picked up one that was significantly larger. The small woman positioned herself across from the doctor and took aim, both hands on the far-end of the handle, then reached in a full overhead wind-up and let it fly towards the prone mutant's leg with all of the force and momentum she and the sledgehammer could manage.
The bludgeoning end bounced cleanly off Stefan's mark and ricocheted back; it would’ve done impressive amounts of collateral damage if not for the hand bracing it from behind, stopping its progress. Liliana blinked, unable to keep the fraction of excitement from her face as she turned back to the doctor. "Should I try again?"
(S)
Stefan shook his head, frowning. "No, no, I don't think that'll work at this point. We're going to need something heavier." There was a pause as he considered just what they could do to break the bone. The hammer was anything but light, and for a moment, he considered bringing in the assistance of a certain other Hammer that he'd seen around the base a few times. Ultimately, he decided against it. He wanted to
break Darren's leg, not have it torn off. He rubbed his chin, hand resting under his mask's beak. Finally, an idea came to mind. Perhaps not the safest one, but just about their only bet aside from having a giant mutant curbstomp the limb.
"A truck," He simply said. "We're going to have to bring him outside. Help me with that, will you?" Stefan walked around to the head of Darren's cot, taking hold of him under the shoulders. The man was a fair bit heavier than most people around the base, even considering his height, but with assistance they'd get him outside. He took most of the brunt, looking his arms beneath Darren's and silently cursing. The damn stretcher was in maintenance after a particularly weighty carry broke one of the handles, but it would have been a damn good help.
(L)
Liliana put the hammer down with as much of a resigned expression as her face could muster, then nodded and looped each of her arms firmly around the back of Darren's knees, bracing them against her hips for support. The two of them staggered outside with the dense mutant.
A few minutes later, Darren lay sprawled out in the courtyard by the vehicles. The wide truck beeped loudly and Liliana held the back of the passenger headrest, head twisted around to directly view her backwards crawl.
(S)
Outside the heavy vehicle, Stefan stood a bit nervously. He would freely admit to using unorthodox treatment methods in the past, but very rarely did he ever even consider trucks as a surgical instrument. He hoped this would work without causing unnecessary extra damage, and to prevent just that, he directed Liliana with hand signals. "A bit to the right," He ordered, attempting to prevent Darren's ribcage from coming into the path of the tire.
When his leg was properly lined up, he ordered the truck to stop, then crouched next to Darren and propped him up a bit. He pulled his other leg out of the way entirely, bending it at the knee so only the intended shin was under the tire. "Okay, go. Once it's broken, reverse until the tire is off of him. We don't need to run him over twice." In preparation, he moved one hand closer to the marked leg, ready to reset the bone as quickly as possible.
When his leg was properly lined up, he ordered the truck to stop, then crouched next to Darren and propped him up a bit. He pulled his other leg out of the way entirely, bending it at the knee so only the intended shin was under the tire. "Okay, go. Once it's broken, reverse until the tire is off of him. We don't need to run him over twice." In preparation, he moved one hand closer to the marked leg, ready to reset the bone as quickly as possible.
(D)
Darren floated along, his feet skimming the tops of clouds as he hummed merrily to himself. Who said life had to be hard? All one had to do was learn how to fly, and the rest just sorted itself out. A light approached him, and then another alongside it, and he grinned happily at the newcomers. “How’s it going, friends? Here to join me?”
The two lights continued to glow redly at him, not seeming interested in a conversation, until one of them released a series of beeping sounds that grew steadily louder as they approached him. “What’s happening? What are you-”
Darren watched as the trucks massive tire rolled onto his shin; there was a moment of suspended time, where the wheel simply sat on top of his leg, leaving the vehicle lopsided, and then after several seconds of waiting, it crunched down, snapping the bone underneath. The mutant stared, wondering why it didn’t hurt, and then as the truck rolled away he looked on as the doctor reached him and quickly passed his hands into his leg beyond the flesh. He stared numbly, wondering if the doctor ever picked up chicks wearing that mask, and then drifted back into beautiful unconsciousness.
He didn’t know how long had gone by, but his leg was feeling sore and his head was no longer filled with air and fluff as Darren sat up. He touched the shin gingerly, and was surprised by the lack of pain. “How long was I out?” he rasped to no one in particular. He already felt halfway healed.
(S)
Crouched over Darren, Stefan was giving a small examination, ghostly fingers lightly brushing against the bone within his leg. His eyes were locked on the area, and though he couldn't see inside the flesh, it always helped him to focus on where he was working. "Not too long, about half an hour. Your leg should be on the road to a proper recovery now. I'd tell you not to put too much weight on it, but at the rate it's sealing itself up, you may very well be able to by the time noon comes." The doctor's hand withdrew, solidfying again. There was a noticeable shakiness to his fingers, but he moved it out of sight before anyone could comment, rubbing his own wrist. "Bodily regeneration is a lucky catch in regards to mutation. If you feel anything wrong, let me know immediately," He added. Physical mutations were always intriguing to examine and treat, but even the most seemingly positive things could hide dire side effects.
(L)
"Viktor is leaving soon," Liliana said from the doorway, casually leaning against the wall just inside the frame. Her satchel already appeared fat with refreshed supplies and the tips of her nose and ears were pink with chill; if she had been there long enough to hear Darren's regenerative diagnosis, she didn't appear to have an opinion. Dziecko's telltale rapid hoofbeats announced his arrival almost four seconds before he dashed into the medical wing, skidding to a halt before spinning around in confusion. During the respite at the Stalker base, the piglet had put on no less than four pounds and had developed a series of small bumps along his once-smooth dorsal ridge, just around his head, of which he was clearly very, very proud. Someone had also tied a charming green kerchief around his fat little neck.
"People are already gathered around the trucks," she continued in a rare moment of unprompted explanation. She left Stefan's prepacked bag and harness of supplies, but swiped a few more of his expertly concocted remedies from the counter and placed them in the more well-padded areas of her leg holster. With a final glance, she left the room at a brisk pace, headed for the group, the pre-bacon hot on her heels.
Viktor and Nikita had been out here as she and Stefan had been dragging Darren's sad sack of a body back inside. With a vaguely uncertain air, she nodded to them, the equivalent of a warmly familiar greeting. Nikolav and Magpie were new additions, but Liliana was hardly surprised; they both reeked of wanderlust. Inga's presence gave her a slight mental pause. VIktor hadn't mentioned that this job was going to be particularly dangerous, but any venture outside the safety of the compound probably wasn't ideal for someone that young.