Red Fish Mingle

[mortalcoil]

Who: The crew and (many) visitors of the Red Fish!
Broadcast: Nope
Action: Aboard the SS Red Fish
When: Nebulously after the Great Winter Soldier Violence Spree of '16

[it was bound to happen sometime. all three captains of the SS Red Fish are hauled back home in various stages of medical distress, and things have been a little weird since then.

one of these things is the super soldier with the busted metal arm that is brought in to be kept locked up in Coil's lab for a while. turns out those restraints he'd had installed did come in handy. that's a thing.

so, whether you're here to check on one of the various ailing people here, gawk at the guy chained up in the dungeon lab, or are just trying to live your life in relative peace and sanity, come on in!]

Comments

[reconstitution]

[ He's trying incredibly hard to be gentle, when the instinct to lash out is screaming at him. But that's not who he is. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. Coil's touch recedes to something a little more clinical that he can't feel as they run over the ruined metal.

Winter turns his head away, the sight of the corroded metal giving way to the mechanics underneath make bile rise in the back of his throat. Some wires get crossed in his head and it aches where there should be chunks out of a flesh arm, exposing muscle and bone. His head is telling him it should be painful, but there's no flesh, no fresh wounds. It's all in his head. It fades quickly when his attention shifts.

It shifts quickly to very real pain as Coil's fingers prod at his still-healing wound. This time he pushes his hand away quickly and with a little more force. ]

Yes, it still hurts. [ That's what you want to know, right? ]

[mortalcoil]

[he actually wants to see how deep the wound still goes, what kind of edges it has, what important things are severed and in danger of scarring into a knot instead of smooth, useful muscle. he doesn't know how the soldier's healing ability works. this sort of progress is important to track in something that wants to keep all of its functionality.

so, he's more caught off guard this time when he's pushed away. he'd been about to try and pull back at the torn fabric there when Winter shoves at his hand.

that hurts much more than the first time. pain lances across his chest, makes him hiss through his teeth, and he shies back into his own space again. Coil is still hovering, but Winter has a little more room to breathe for a moment.

it takes him a minute to fight through the little spasm in his ribs, and afterward he keeps his arms held low to sign, because he can't lift them higher.

pointing at his leg-- 'want stitches?']

[reconstitution]

[ As soon as he does it, he regrets it. Winter casts Coil an apologetic look, but he does breathe a little easier with the extra room.

He watches Coil try to regain his breath through his previously-caved in chest until he manages to gain control again. ]

It should heal on its own.

[ Besides, Coil really shouldn't put too much effort into helping him when he's not even healed properly himself. ]

[mortalcoil]

[he frowns. 'scar. bad.'

the ideas are abbreviated, cut down to their simplest forms for efficiency's sake to save his own energy. he also gnarls his fingers in the direction of Winter's leg to clarify that he means more than just a superficial scar. going by how typical humans heal, that looks like the sort of thing that would mend itself much more quickly and cleanly with some attention.

because, even though the soldier had nearly killed him, he knows how important it is for a machine to run smoothly. it would be a shame for such skill to end up permanently marred.]

[reconstitution]

[ He's no stranger to scars- some of the uglier wounds are bound to leave their mark, even on a body that heals the way his does. Winter can't ignore the fact that it wouldn't be efficient if it didn't heal correctly.

He concedes with a weary sigh, his shoulder sagging. ]

Alright.

[mortalcoil]

[he nods--looking a little bit energized, suddenly. he has a goal; he has something to tinker with and mend. and whether other people in this room would agree or not, doing something that he was made to do is something that always makes Coil feel a little bit better. it's easier to ignore the ache digging deep into his bones and muscles when he has a task to focus on. it hurts, but it's better than rotting still on a hospital bed.

it doesn't take him long to shuffle around the lab and pull the necessary supplies together. stitching up one another's wounds had practically been a form of bonding for him and his partner, and he'd been skilled with a surgical needle long before that. he pulls a wheeled tray along with him, slowly but efficiently gathering up all the tools he needs, before returning to Winter's parking spot.

Coil looks like hell, but he's focused now. and once he returns, he motions for Winter to probably straighten his leg, while he pulls a pair of scissors from the array of tools.]

[reconstitution]

[ He watches Coil move efficiently around the medical bay, gathering items on the cart he pulls over with him. A spike of anxiety bubbles in his chest, just the sight of the instruments on the table. Winter shakes his head subtly to try and get rid of the feeling. It's fine. It's Coil.

He straightens his leg when prompted, shifting on the cot. ]

[mortalcoil]

[it's just Coil... but boy does he move with the purpose and precision of a scientist. or a mechanic. it would almost be something like a doctor, if it wasn't for his lack of bedside manner. he's delicate about snipping the cloth away from the wound, but he doesn't think to provide any anesthesia before flushing it out and beginning to clean up the edges. which likely means that he won't think of it before proceeding any further in the treatment, if he isn't reminded.

speak now or forever hold your peace.]

[reconstitution]

[ Don't worry, Coil. He's used to having wounds treated with no anesthesia. He wouldn't think to say anything before. Maybe it's one of those things he should remember, but honestly, it's not a big deal.

He'll hiss when the needle breaks skin, but the pain is minimal compared to other wounds. Or wounds he inflicted on anyone else. ]

[mortalcoil]

[you know, sometimes guilt is the only analgesic you need. Coil knows what it's like to receive pain that you know deserve. maybe he'll even feel a little better after a bit of healthy suffering.

and regardless of the reason these wounds are there to begin with, Coil does a thorough job--taking his time to tack the depths of the injury together before lacing together neat, strong sutures along the surface.

other than the fact that he's not wearing gloves or anything, it's fine work.]