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Who: Eugene Woods
Broadcast: fleetwide video
Action: Vanquish
When: Now

Hello and good evening, everyone. This is Eugene Woods, coming to you with a few good old-fashioned barter requests.

[It's show and tell time - which means that, along with talking to the fleet, Eugene's sat on his bunk for this transmission, trousers rolled up to above the knee and nothing but his undershirt on top. It shows off not only his thigh-down prosthetic metal leg, but a decent collection of tattoos down both arms and up his right leg.]

After bringing old lefty here in for a tune-up, it occurred to me that, for the last several months, I've actually had a limb that wasn't festively decorated in some way. Of course, it's not exactly as easy as finding a tattoo shop when your leg is some kind of high-tech future alloy, so I'm looking for one of two things. Number one: a two-person team, one artist and one engineer who has bright ideas about how to put designs on this thing without damaging it. Number two: one graphic artist who has some serious chops in working with metal. Bonus points, of course, for anyone who actually has experience making anything like a replacement leg.

Repayment, as always, comes in the form of bread products, moonshine, or loan of myself to cook for your ship for an agreed-upon term. Just let me know who's up for a cyborg body mod project, and we'll get right to that.

[He reaches to turn his communicator off, then pauses, still leaned-in close.]

Oh yeah, and, uh. Any doctors or physical therapists-? Apparently I should be reaching out to you guys too. Same barter terms and all that, and, um. Thanks guys.

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I can't say I've had much cause to work with advanced prosthetic limbs much, but we did cover them back in my college days a bit. I can't say how much I could do for you without getting a better look, though.

No offense to the craftsmanship here, but I'm not sure I'd call my leg advanced.

[He lifts his communicator and brings it around for a slow pan close-up of the thing, which, while lovingly crafted and fairly intricate at parts, doesn't have so much as a servo or carbon fiber to its name.]

The guy who made it originally did it all out of spare metal bits, I think. Gorgeous job, but it's all basic hinges and whatnot when you get right down to it.

_{[ With the better look he can see that it is, in fact, a little less
advanced than he had thought, but that made it easier to work with in some
respects. Advanced mechanics and servos would have made the task more
difficult to say the least. ]}

Oh, I can probably work with that just fine then. Again, no promises til I really get a first hand look at it, but I don't think it would be a problem.

Hello, Mr. Woods. I'm Dr. Crusher, on the SS Blue Fish.

[And she's just who you're looking for.]

While I'm primarily a surgeon and general practitioner, I have had some experience in physical therapy and... I happen to know a good deal about cybernetics as well.

[She is a sci-fi tv doctor just roll with it: specialties? What specialties? They do all the doctor things!]

Edited 2016-03-01 16:27 (UTC)

Oh- wow. Dr. Crusher, hi. I think Vision recommended you once or twice.

[Just . . . glossing over why he didn't reach out before now. Look, he's a man below the age of fifty. He's not used to coming to a doctor unless he's actively incapacitated.]

I've been mostly leaning on him for this stuff, but he's pretty quick to remind me he's not actually a doctor when it comes to more than schematics for replacement parts.

Any time you want to come by the Vanquish and take a peek, feel free. I think it's working pretty well again at this point, but it never hurts to get some fresh input.

Hey Eugene!

If you find someone that's really good at etching, I can draw something for you. I just don't know how to do metal. But I'm bored as shit right now.

[After the thing with Theon, she's been pretty much laid up. She's just not... talking about it. For reasons of Theon being a douche.]

Wrath, hey! [There's his favourite onanism-endorsing ray of sunshine.] I'm sure we can scare someone up. Did you have any ideas off the top of your head?

Um. Well, lots of ideas! It just kind of depends on like what kind of statement you want to make? More abstract, or like flowers, or something geometric, or a scene, or like a giant monster getting stabbed and shot and set on fire?

Lots of ideas!

You know, I was thinking geometrics for the smaller visible pieces, just to fill in space. But the giant monster battle idea is pretty intriguing.

We could do it like old school Earth style, kind of go with Nishiki-e rather than hyper realistic. How cool would that be?

Sorry- heh. My better half was the art buff. What style is that again?

[Something Japanese, his ear can parse that much, but that's everything from sculpture to calligraphy to watercolors.]

Um. It actually refers to a particular print method, but there's a style that goes with it. Lemme see if I can find something...

[She's drawn some stuff from memory, found other pictures on the network. A good example... she sends it over.]

Oh, hell yes. A giant monster battle like this? Now that's awesome.

[He's already rolling his pantleg up higher, looking down.]

I think there's a lot of room to work with on the part that goes around my thigh, maybe we should put it up there?

[Not a problem: she's used to such stubbornness.]

Perhaps the three of us can work together then.

Sure. Absolutely.

[Is . . . this is? Is this how you schedule a doctor's appointment in space?]

I think he just wanted to make sure that my leg's . . . aligned? Or something.

Okay, that sounds awesome! But you gotta promise me then that you'll ask the hot guys and girls if they wanna see your monster.

[There is no resisting laughing at that; it is exactly the kind of awful joke Eugene loves. Hell, it's exactly the kind of awful joke he would happily inflict upon people.]

As if I could turn down the potential for a line like that.

Awesome! I'll work on some sketches for you then, and you can see what you like?

[She nods.] I'd want to get a look at it too, before he or anyone else started anything. I can set you up for an appointment on the Blue Fish?

Sounds perfect. I'm guessing you'll take your reimbursement in noodles?

That sounds great, thanks. I'm basically free . . . whenever. So whatever's convenient for you works for me.

[Probably a quick appointment, he tells himself. Nothing too major. Well, major by his standards anyway, which are admittedly skewed.]

For this, I'm gonna want footrubs too. Like, platonic ones.

Cooking and a spa day? Oof. You drive a hard bargain.

Hey, if you want your leg to be awesome, you gotta pay the bills to get the skills!

[Thank you Delta for having finally convinced her that her art is worth something.]

I'll be around this afternoon, if you want to stop by.

Wow. Same-day appointment. [He grins to himself (not at all nervously, no, same-day is awesome totally yeah), nodding slightly.] Which ship?

[Hey, her workload is way less here than it ever is on the Enterprise. It's always pretty easy to get an appointment with her.]

The Blue Fish. Let me know when you're headed over... I'll have to personally let you in.

Sure thing. I can swing by later today if you want. I don't exactly have a schedule to speak of, so I'm pretty much good to go any time you are.

_{[ He chuckled at that, realizing it just in that moment, and how
very... odd it felt. He was used to a regiment, and suddenly being without
one felt odd, like the world had tilted ever so slightly - just enough to
feel wrong without actually looking it. ]}

[He gives a doubtful grin.]

I dunno. What's your experience in designing body art?

I've done some graphic work on 3D surfaces before.

Mostly military equipment.

All right. Give me an hour or two, I guess? Is that all right?

That's perfectly fine. I'll see you then.

[Fast forward a few hours and they're walking into the lab of the Blue Fish after Beverly has picked Eugene up at the cargo bay. She smiles and gestures towards the exam table in the middle of the room.]

Please, take a seat.

Wow, you've got the whole setup here.

[Eugene's done his best to stay out of clinics and examination rooms as a general rule, and he hoists himself up onto the table, put off-balance by the deja vu of being in what's for all intents and purposes a doctor's office. He does his best to crack a smile, nervy and unsure as it is.]

No paper gown, then?

[She laughs.]

No, no paper gown. Not yet anyway.

Awesome. So, should I take this off-? [He gives his metal knee a light pat.] Or what's the routine, exactly.

If you wouldn’t mind? I can scan it while you have it on, if that’s easier for you, but I’d like to take a look at it myself.

Nah. It actually looks pretty good these days, all things considered.

[This part, at least, is a little more familiar. He shuffles under his his tied-at-the-waist coveralls, working loose the hip belt for the rig that keeps the leg up. The socket's pretty low-tech, and he rolls up his pantleg to undo the cinch that keeps it snug, revealing the truncated thigh and uneven years-old scar twisting across it. He smooths the roll of cloth down, hands restless in an effort to keep his voice even.]

It, uh. It was sort of a battlefield medicine thing before the doctor cleaned it up. I got stabbed in the foot, And the infection just sort of-

[He trails up, gesturing up from where his foot would have been up toward his hip.]

[She nods as she leans into study his leg. Amputation was more common for soldiers historically, and even now... if you're in the wrong place at the wrong time with no supplies, infection can spread more quickly than most people think.

His scars may not be pretty, but they seemed to have healed well. Satisfied with that initial assessment, she straightens up and of course... it's time for the tricorder, which she takes off a nearby table and flips open.]

Everything seems fine, but I'm going to run a few scans, just to be sure.

Oh- okay. So is there an x-ray on-board, or . . .

[He's already shifting as if to get up or at least reach for the leg he's leaned against the table, when he properly registers that the thing she's fussing with isn't equipment he recognizes. It's about the same time he remembers where he is, and he settles back down with a self-conscious laugh.]

-or I could remember we're in space. Right. I'll just . . . hold still.

[She smiles.] Don't worry, it doesn't take nearly as long as an X-Ray.

[And no radiation! Always a bonus when you're in space. She detaches a cylindrical piece from the tricorder and runs it over him. As she said, it barely even takes a minute before she's done. There's signs of an old infection, but otherwise, nothing out of the ordinary. After studying the results for a moment, she reattaches the scanner and snaps the tricorder shut.]

You're in excellent health, Mr. Woods, though I would still recommend physical therapy. I know it's tedious, but trust me, in the long run, it'll help a lot.

[Whether it's necessary or not, Eugene stays still for the scan, blinking in surprise when it's done. He looks briefly relieved at the results, then signs, leaning back on his palms.]

I was afraid you'd say that. No space-future fix for that one, huh?

[Her mouth quirks upward in a half smile.]

I'm afraid not. But I promise, I won't torture you too much.

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