022 ☺ Voice + spam ☺ How the muscle, bone, and sinews tangled, and how the skin was softly shed

[moreincommon]

[Public]
[Mark isn‘t his usual chipper self today. He‘s much more somber, and his voice is softer than usual. This is partly due to not feeling himself, partly because it‘s not the day for happiness.] I’ll make this brief. After all that, some of you might need to get a few things off your minds.

As always, I’m here to listen.

[Locked to Friends (if you think you’re on here you are)]
I know that was a horrible experience for virtually everyone. If you’re hurt, please let me know. Heck, let me know even if you’re not.

[Private to Charles]
That PTSD support group? We might want to revisit the idea.

[Infirmary Spam]
[Mark doesn’t look so great. He’s paler than usual and badly-rested if the shadows under his eyes are any indication. He’s been stitched up after Victor’s attack, his stomach wrapped in gauze, and he winces if he turns or bends at the waist. But nobody’s going to stop needing help because he‘s got a few cuts, so he’s in the infirmary all scrubbed up and prepared to do everything he can. There’s plenty he can’t -- he’s not a doctor and so many of the people injured this port badly need one -- but if there are smaller wounds to be dressed, medication to be administered, and patients to be soothed he is available and ready.]

Comments

[Infirmary Spam/Text]

[mistconduct]

[From his own bed, Chris watches Mark with his knee wrapped and propped up, texting him from afar]

Yeah, I got hit.

Good news is you won't have to see me around for much longer, Mark. I know you're jumping for joy.

Or will be, after everyone comes back from their death tolls, holy shit.

[Infirmary Spam/Text]

[moreincommon]

[Although it makes Mark a little sad to see Chris having to text, he's still proud of him and smiles across the room.]

Congratulations. I'm going to miss you when you leave.

[Infirmary Spam/Text]

[mistconduct]

[From his own bed, Chris gives a two-fingered salute, smirking]

Can't get rid of me that easily. I'm coming back.

The fuck happened to you?

[Infirmary Spam/Text]

[moreincommon]

I ran into the same person everyone else did.

How are you feeling?

[Infirmary Spam/Text]

[mistconduct]

Oh, hey; me too.

Kind of weird. Like I don't know what to do with myself now.

[ private ]

[megamind]

No physical injuries. Creed came through while I was elsewhere. Got Edward, though, along with Barbara and the Emperor. He was elsewhere on the ship.

Guess this is the point where I should mention I'm seeing someone and he moved in with me, too.

[ ...he'll tackle the Tosh part of the relationship equation in a minute or three. ]

[ private ]

[moreincommon]

Did he kill them?

Congratulations! I just wish I'd heard under more pleasant circumstances.

[ private ]

[megamind]

Yes.

[ private ]

[moreincommon]

oh.

[This is where a normal person would use a swear word.]

[ private ]

[megamind]

Yeah. I was finding his body -- or what was left of it -- and then came downstairs and had to help pick up the pieces of Barbara Gordon. Victor Creed likes to play with his kills. Not sure when we'll get the stink out of the engine room, either.

So. Yeah. How was your port?

[Audio]

[lawofthejungle]

[Creed is also not feeling his best today. After first receiving the nastier side of Erik, then getting his head taken off, then walking right into the even nastier side of Iris, he's in no actual state to talk to anybody but that doesn't seem to be stopping him.]

Why.

[Audio]

[moreincommon]

[Well, there's a voice he didn't want to hear.

Mark freezes for a second when he gets the reply, but swallows the thrill of fear and presses forward. He's a warden, and he's a social worker. His job is to help people live better lives, and Victor will never learn how if he's only punished or ignored.]

Why to which?

[Audio]

[lawofthejungle]

Why do you fucking--

[It's interrupted by a gagging sound, the instinctive urge to swallow it back, then a dim thump of limbs rearranged followed by a wet choking sound and a telltale splatter. It goes on for a long couple minutes.

He hates you so much right now, Iris. So much.

He coughs twice, then spits, and when he finally gets back to Mark he just sounds miserable and pissy.]

Why the fuck d'you want to listen. Just whine an' bitch 'cause they got weak stomachs.

[Audio]

[moreincommon]

[Mark winces, holding the communicator a little further from his ear as the sounds commence. A mean part of him wants to point out the irony of commenting on his weak stomach, but he settles for a silent little smirk instead.

But that doesn't mean he can't hear the misery in Victor's voice, and doesn't mean he isn't just a little moved by it. And he's supposed to be giving second chances...]

Because listening is what I'm here to do. It doesn't matter whether I like what you say or not, it's what I do. You're welcome to talk to me privately if you like.

[Audio]

[lawofthejungle]

[Mark WHY.]

....about what?

[Victor stops feeling sorry for himself for all of the thirty seconds it takes for him to consider and voice the question. He sounds honestly perplexed.]

[spam]

[heisrisen]

[The Emperor is, at least, good at delegating, keeps Mark busy with necessary tasks that keep him off his feet as much as the Emperor can manage. During a lull, the Emperor joins him, methodically sterilizing equipment with alcohol wipes.]

You could supervise from one of the cots, you know.

[He doesn't expect it to work. But he is here in his capacity as a doctor; he feels compelled to mention it.]

[spam]

[moreincommon]

[Working with the Emperor has, so far, gone smoothly enough; Mark's still a bit shell-shocked and follows his orders faithfully without asking many questions. Until the Emperor recommends he sits down, he has no reason to protest any of them -- but sitting down means putting pressure on those cuts and he's not sure he wants to face that.]

Standing's better, honestly. Besides, don't we need as many people helping as possible?

[spam]

[heisrisen]

Generally, yes. But part of triage is taking care of ourselves, too, and very little of this is urgent now. We can handle it, if you need a break.

[But he won't press it; he's not trying to get out of supervision and he certainly doesn't want to look as though he is.]

Just keep it in mind, alright?

[spam]

[moreincommon]

Thank you, but I think I'm all right for now. I'd rather do what I can to help while it's calm.

[He gives a watery smile and an unenthusiastic thumbs-up.] But I appreciate it, and might take you up on that soon.

[spam]

[heisrisen]

[He nods in acknowledgement, with a smooth, unconscious sort of graciousness that gives the unmistakeable impression of royalty, despite the mess on his scrubs and the work in his hands. Then he grins a little, amiable and wry.]

They do say doctors always make the worst patients. Welcome to the job.

Private

[wedonot]

Probably.

Private

[moreincommon]

How are you doing with all of this?

Private

[wedonot]

I'm fine. [Not really, but.] Are you?

Private

[moreincommon]

I've had better days. This'll pass, but it's been a difficult week.

Private

[wedonot]

Extremely. You'd think we'd be used to it by now.