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(no subject)

Who: SS Red Fish crew
Broadcast: nup
Action: yurp. It's a crew mingle!
When: Today/forward-dated according to preference.

[Holy smokes, Red Fish had four people now! They're almost finished forming a five man band. Who's gonna be the leader? Who's gonna be the lancer? If Hange is the leader, is Zhas the lancer? Wait, obviously Zhas is The Big Guy. So Coil is The Smart Guy? Does Nunnally have to be the chick? No way, Nunnally. We believe in you. You're way too useful to be the chick. UwU ♥ ]

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[Hange is in the lab pretty much all the time, sometimes at odd hours. She left briefly to get some tea, so she comes back when Zhas is still rummaging around for stuff.

Why is she awake? God only knows and good luck asking her. She looks a little sleepy-eyed but mostly curious, though.]

What's got you up so late?

[he looks up from his rummaging to see a sleepy-eyed Hange... he says nothing, but the hand that's holding a large trauma pad is obviously bleeding and starting to swell...

so there's... that. he looks back down and starts picking through another drawer.]

[Well, she doubts he was slapping Nunnally around, and she knows it wasn't her. Leaves Coil or some kind of self inflicted thing.]

Mind if I lend you a hand with that? [She's gonna come over tea in tow to nose into helping anyway.]

[and, you know, he'll just kind of... let her, because he's not going to find what he's looking for in here. this lab is Hange's domain, and it has been since they woke up on the ship.]

[She shuffles him over to wait at one of the side tables while she digs around for what she needs to treat this properly. It feels good! Doing a job, since the down time is nice in a sense but she's not used to cooling her heels for so long at a time.]

How's it feel, kiddo? You didn't break anything, did you?

[he remains standing, but waits there with a bizarre patience. he's less anxious when he's got something to focus on. a problem that's being remedied.

he shakes his head at the question, wiggling his fingers to test. they're... sore... but nothing's broken.]

[She is just gonna go ahead and check him over herself, feeling gently over his hand, before she trusts his word. Call it a certain sense of meticulousness; Hange has always been more careful with the lives of her men than she has been with her own life, or safety for that matter. Zhas isn't one of her soldiers but... well. She did declare herself as captain, and that entails some responsibilities, at least from her perspective.

She hums as she works, quietly, just one note as she does him up.]

I think I have a cold pack for you...

[that'd be good. he lets her have his hand, submissive and quiet.

up until recently, he'd have to do this himself. actually, even when Coil was around, he'd usually insist that he could do it himself. he doesn't normally like someone fixing him up like this, but...

he's just...]

Do you... ever...

[She pats him briskly on the wrist, where he ISN'T swollen, and goes to get the stuff she wants.]

Mmhm?

[he tries, but... he doesn't know how to say it. and it's not important. after struggling with it for a moment, he drops it entirely.]

Nevermind.

Now you've got me curious.

[She comes back with stuff for him. Gonna do the hand-treating thing!]

Mm... [he thinks for a while longer. looking, but not looking. his hand stings a little, but he stays very still while she treats him.]

...What do you dream about.

[She's steady-handed. She's worked with horses before and with teenagers, both of which require some sense of stability to be stable themselves.]

Goals? Or literal dreams?

[Ah, she's pretty quick. Almost done already... it would be harder if it was a more serious injury.]

[and, thankfully, she won't leave to find one of their crewmates with a black eye or other terrible injury. the wounds are a little scuffed, so it was probably a wall, or a crate, or... something tougher than human skin. his voice is as even and gravelly as usual.]

Literal.

[Gauging that, but she won't bring it up. Woke up from a nightmare, huh? Is her guess, at least, and it seems like a solid enough one from her perspective.]

Being outside the wall.

[Among other things but... oooohhhh yes. She has all kinds of dreams about that. The small abrasions are now clean. She'll finish wrapping them up and go to get a cold pack for him. Keep that swelling down.]

[while she does that, he finally looks at her work. he can still flex his fingers well enough, though the stinging hasn't quite stopped yet. the wounds are being cleaned out. it'll burn away everything that doesn't belong there.]

What do you look like.

Well, I'm not looking at myself... But I always look the same. [She gestures at her own face.

And yeah, cold pack time. They're kept cold enough to be kind of uncomfortable. She goes and gets one, wraps a towel on it so it won't get the few bandages she put on wet.]

[eugh, cold pack... he'll take it and press it against his fingers like a good patient. he only nods to what she says, though. maybe the answer was what he was looking for, maybe it wasn't.]

[Good boy. She pats him on the arm again and starts putting the stuff she spread out to deal with his cuts away.]

And you? [mildly; not going to push it.]

... This face.

[considering he's wearing his usual face paint, it's not hard to guess what he means. he looks down at his own hand, eyes moving over something that's not there--until he looks up and seems to snap out of it.]

Doesn't matter. Just thinking.

Speaking of the paint... I notice you're wearing that more these days, big guy. [She doesn't appear to be paying attention to him all that closely, concentrating on putting her things away.]

Did Nunnally or I make you mad or something? [pretty lightly]

It's not for that.

[if his hand is patched up, he'll do what he always does... which is start to leave and hope the conversation drops.]

[nnnnnnnope. nope. not so easy big guy. she puts one last thing away, looks up to see he's leaving, and trails casually after him.]

Mind telling me what the reason for that is?

Yes.

[h-haha so apparently he wants to be difficult now, too.]

Something to do with your little friend, hm?