to see if i still bleed

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Who| Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, and OPEN
What| Make-shift infirmary for Avengers, allies, or anyone else who stumbles across them
Where| One of the science labs
When| Week 1, all throughout the arena
Warnings/Notes| Injuries and such within, will update with others as needed. If you'd like a thread with Bruce or Sam or both, feel free to specify!


It didn't take long for the idea of rigging up some kind of makeshift infirmary to get brought up. With everyone's powers back, there's a high likelihood of this getting messy, really fast. Especially after Steve already getting injured that bad at the Cornucopia.

Thanks to Sif, they actually have a medical kit, and the sterile white room of the laboratory they've set up in is far from the worst surroundings that either of them have given medical attention in.

Both of them aren't always there, but chances are at least one of them will be, to help out with any injuries their allies might sustain. Or anyone else who gets through whatever puzzles lead up to the laboratories, and however many of those allies might be hanging around.

Comments

For Bruce

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam hadn't asked too many details when he'd heard that Banner had experience giving medical attention to people, just mentioned that he was technically still a nationally registered paramedic and offered to help however he could. He'd been more focused on getting things set up at the time, but now that things are more or less settled, he's curious.

"I was pararescue," he comments, leaning his hip against one of the lab tables. "I didn't know you were that kind of doctor, though."

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"I'm not. I'm a theoretical physicist." He doesn't know how much Sam knows about his story--that he's the Hulk, that he's been on the run for a decade, that he helped save New York by losing his temper--but it's not a secret, so he won't make an effort to conceal it. "But try explaining the difference to people with broken Spanish. As soon as I mentioned I was a doctor, people were begging me to help their sick cousin or brother or mother, and they wouldn't hear anything about me not being qualified. I decided it was easier to just sit down for a few days and memorize medical textbooks than trying to explain PhDs."

And, well... he had wanted to be able to do something. He felt the weight of all the people he had accidentally killed on his shoulders, and at least with medicine, he could do something to tip the scales. He was already studying biology and biochemistry in an effort to fix what he had done to himself, so it was easy to study its application to medicine as well.

"So I ended up being the closest thing to a medical doctor a lot of people had. I've been doing stuff with it for the better part of a decade now." Not exactly a license or formal training, but it was something and they needed what they could get.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

He quirks a little bit of a smile. "A few days, huh? Even in PJ training they gave us a week." He's joking, but he's still impressed. Sam'd known how smart Banner was supposed to be, but it's a little different than being faced with it.

"Not a lot of people would've done that, you know, not without getting something pretty big out of it." Even some of the guys Sam trained with, they'd done their jobs and nothing else. He'd remembered them for that. "I mean, sure, now it comes in handy, but who knew you were going to get stuck in a giant death match?"

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"I read quickly." Bruce doesn't generally toot his own horn, but there's a reason why he's still considered a household name in physics despite not doing any research for the better part of ten years. He's a genius. "And, well, the radiation might have helped my memory." The gamma radiation did a lot of very good things to his body and acuity if one doesn't count the Hulk. He doesn't explain further than that. If Sam knows about the Hulk, he'll know what Bruce means, and if he doesn't, he can ask.

"Don't give me too much credit. People are nice to you if you can help them." Bruce avoids eye contact and waves dismissively. "I helped them out with an infection or a parasite or medication, and then they would give me a blanket or food or whatever it was they could give. We both got something we needed." It was less mercenary than he made it sound, less mercenary than he really saw himself. He could have asked for a hell of a lot more than things he needed for basic survival, and he never withheld medical expertise from someone in need.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

"Huh. Now that one, I didn't know about." But then, it's not like he's really looked into exactly what the radiation did. He does know about the Hulk - he'd have to, after Harlem and the Battle of New York - though it occurs to him that he's never exactly made that clear.

"Oh, a blanket or some food? Better revise my opinion then, clearly you were just in it for what you could get out of it." Apparently Banner isn't comfortable with the implication that Sam thinks he's a good guy for doing that, if the avoidance and dismissal is anything to go by. Not that it's going to stop Sam from thinking it, or saying it.

General open bumbling in for whoever?

[wizardplease]

Even if he's injured and down one ring, Haruto is not about to just lie down and give up on this whole arena thing. This is not enough to make him lose hope. He has been, he assures himself as he tries to ignore the pain in his hand and right arm, through worse than this. Besides, he doesn't need a right arm to fight. Enough kicks will solve whatever problems he comes across, right? It is probably not wise that he has just jammed the Driver On ring on his mostly-useless right hand, but he needs it there if he's going to transform and do anything at all useful. At least it's not likely to slide off, with the way his fingers are swelling... So he's exploring, keeping as low a profile as he can as he works out the layout of this place.

It's in the course of this exploring that he stumbles across this makeshift infirmary. Startled to find someone in there, he tenses and starts to edge away from the doorway, ready to bolt if they seem hostile.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam’s doing an inventory of their supplies when he hears the sound of someone approaching the lab. It’s happened often enough by now that Sam’s reaction is instinctive, grabbing the switchblade at his side and standing, moving around to a more defensible position. The majority of the time, it’s someone he knows, but that doesn’t stop him from doing this every time someone comes this way.

And this time, it might come in handy, because Sam definitely doesn’t recognize the guy who shows up in the doorway. He does look like he’s more likely to flee than attempt to attack him, though, so Sam stays right where he is - doesn’t drop his guard, but doesn’t make a move, either.

“If you’re not going to go for me, I’m not going to go for you,” he says, blunt and honest. His eyes flick briefly down to the guy’s arm. “...you look like you could use an assist.”

[wizardplease]

"No reason to need to go for you." Haruto lifts his good hand slowly, palm flat, in a gesture that he hopes makes him look appropriately peaceful and harmless. His eyes flick briefly away from Sam and his switchblade to take in the rest of what's set up, and he catches on that it's a very makeshift infirmary right as the man makes a comment about his arm.

"...yeah." He grimaces, partly from embarrassment and partly from actual pain, and starts to edge himself inwards. "You okay with a trade? Bandages for, uh..." And he looks down to his side, where he's slung the few things left from his cornucopia haul with a makeshift helmet-bag salvaged from his spacesuit. "...whatever this stuff is?"

[sizeofyourbaggage]

He relaxes a little at the gesture of peace, and then even more when the guy suggests a trade. Sam smiles slightly, sliding the switchblade back into its spot on his own makeshift carrier - a belt made out of the cord he’d gotten at the Cornucopia. They’d set up this place to give people first aid, after all, and as long as the guy isn’t attacking him, Sam’s not going to turn him away.

Honestly, he probably wouldn’t even if he wasn’t fulfilling a trade, but he’s definitely not going to turn down the offer. “Deal,” he agrees. “But I can do you one better - I’m a registered EMT.” Which is technically true, even if it is overlooking the soldier side of how he got registered. “If you don’t mind me looking you over, I can patch you up.”

[wizardplease]

"You're..." He's about to ask what that means, but it clicks a moment afterwards, and he just nods and smiles and advances a little quicker. Medical training. Okay. (It's still such a strange feeling, having a near-perfect grasp on a language that he was once mediocre at, at best.) "Then I'm really in luck." For it was mostly other people bandaging his dumb behind every time he went and picked a fight with a Phantom too big for him to handle on the first go. First aid was not one of his talents.

"I'm not sure what's in the syringes that I found, but one of the tubes of gel has... slippery blue stuff? And there's orange stuff that I haven't figured out yet. Take your pick. I don't think I'm going to need any of it." Having come closer, if Sam gives the injured arm a look, he'll see that there's an oversized silver and black ring jammed onto his middle finger, against all good sense and possible medical advice. Maybe there's a reason for it... or maybe he's just not very bright.

Technically for Bruce, but Sam is def welcome

[metalicarus]

Venus had patched him up soundly with her abilities, but it was just the organic stuff and that was only half the problem. He'd be dead without Venus, but continuing to live was putting a strain on his systems; systems they'd 'patched' by tying wires and tubes off that shouldn't be tied in the first place. He had work-arounds, but they weren't supposed to last long term.

This led him to seeking out the labs he'd passed on one of their supply runs one time. He'd told his companions he wasn't going to go far, that he was just scoping out the area (something that made sense since he could escape a bad situation easiest) but he'd definitely gone a lot further than 'not too far.' Al would be mad if or when he found out...Jet'd deal with that later. For now, he had puzzles and riddles to concentrate on.

It was actually kind of fun, puzzles had always been a source of entertainment for him and it made him grin like a kid on Christmas when he got them right. Plus, getting them right at last granted him access to the lab...which was where he found the little makeshift hospital.

"Hey, fancy running into you here."

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce didn't know Jet. He had congratulated him on his wedding and talked about him with Albert, but he didn't know Jet. Still, Bruce somewhat trusted Albert, so he was ready to not immediately assume his husband was going to kill him. That said, he was still going to be careful.

"Right back at you."

Bruce had been in the middle of taking inventory of what they had in the hospital. He arched an eyebrow at the clear damage to both Jet's organic and cybernetic sides (one patched up much better than the other), but didn't immediately acknowledge it. "Good to see you survived the Cornucopia."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam, on the other hand, definitely knows Jet. When he looks up from sharpening a piece of scrap metal at the sound of someone arriving, the smile he gives is heavily tinged with relief.

Both that it's a friend, and that Jet'd survived, even if he does look to be in somewhat rough shape.

"Jet, shit, it's good to see you. What happened?"

[metalicarus]

He honestly hadn't meant to find them, but he was hardly upset that he had. Bruce he trusted well enough through Albert, at least to the point that he didn't feel like he needed to be on-edge and Sam, well Sam received the bigger smile between the two; he was really glad Sam seemed all right.

He stepped further into the room and found somewhere clear enough to lean. "Got close there, someone got their knife stuck in my gut. Luckily, my cybernetics returned and it kept me alive long enough for Vee to help me out. At least with the squishy stuff. What about you two? Looks like you're setting up shop."

Someone please help this wizard with science

[infinitemayonnaise]

So, Nitou had accidentally killed a dude with whatever was in those syringes he'd gotten. Even though it was too late now, finding out what was in his remaining syringe seems like a good idea. Important somehow, like it might give him a sense of closure, because he feels so guilty over killing poor Gary like that, he'd like to know exactly what he did.

So he's warily poking around the science labs, hoping he can find some sort of science-thing that can magically analyze a syringe of...stuff. He's not too quiet about it, and he's pretty close to the infirmary. He's either bad at hiding, or he doesn't care about it.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Whichever one it is, Sam definitely hears him. He debates it for a few moments, but pretty quickly decides to go investigate. He palms the makeshift knife he has - sharpened metal, pretty much, but it's still decent as a weapon, and he's got three syringes and a flashlight in the belt he's made out of the cord he'd grabbed at the Cornucopia. He moves quietly, guard up, but relaxes a touch when he spots who's making the noise.

It's the guy he'd made mayo scrambled eggs for, that's not something you forget.

"Hey," he greets cautiously, still keeping a good grip on his sort of knife, just in case Nitou's actually the type to attack anyone he meets in here. "Looking for something?"

[infinitemayonnaise]

Nitou shows absolutely no signs of aggression or being just as suspicious of Sam as Sam is of him. In fact, he looks relieved to see a familiar face. "Yeah, I wanna know what's in this thing!" And he holds up his remaining syringe and looks very uncomfortable about it. "I...thought it was medicine, but..." At that, he falls quiet and looks incredibly guilty about something. "But there's gotta be some science-y stuff around here, right?"

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam loosens up a bit more, when Nitou doesn’t really seem any different than he had the last time they met. And when he’s obviously upset about something having to do with that syringe, which looks remarkably similar to the ones Sam has, actually.

“Yeah, there’s a lot, and there’s even a scientist somewhere around here.” He pauses, then asks, “You okay?”

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce hears the noise. That's not the kind of noise someone who is worried about getting murdered makes.

He considers ignoring it and just letting whoever it was do what they wanted and leave, but 'what they wanted' might involve killing someone on the weird dysfunctional team they'd set up, and Bruce isn't interested in that happening.

So he leaves their little camp--he doesn't have a weapon on him, but that's alright, because he is a weapon--and goes out to see what looks like a young man just... poking around?

He crosses his arms, watching the man carefully before saying, "Are you looking for something?"

[infinitemayonnaise]

Nitou seems surprised to be found. Really, he shouldn't be. He's also far too distraught about something to be worried about what the other man might have in mind. "You know if there's any sort of...I dunno, scientific analyzing machine-things around here anywhere?" He shrugs helplessly. "That's all I'm looking for dude, not any trouble."

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"If you're not looking for trouble, neither am I."

Bruce arches an eyebrow, keeping his arms crossed, resembling a skeptical professor looking at a flailing student more than anything. Perhaps because he's getting flashbacks to some of his freshman students back in his teaching days trying to figure out how lab equipment worked.

"If you're calling it a 'scientific analyzing machine-thing', I'm assuming you wouldn't know how to use one if you found it. What do you want to analyze?"

[fiercestwarrior]

Sif had just more or less dumped the crate from the cornucopia on Bruce and told him to do with it as he pleased, she couldn't keep dragging the thing around after all and if he was going to be more or less stationary he may as well keep it. She kept the knife and the screw driver on her person though, since they were the closest things to weapons that she had.

After a time she returned to check how things were going, carefully entering the room, both weapons ready in case someone other than her friends was in there.

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"You can put the weapons down," Bruce says after only barely looking up. He's been investigating the orange gel Sif had left behind--he had put a little bit on a table and was now rolling some useless scrap from destroyed robots on it, measuring the way that the gel seemed to not only negate the effect of friction, but actually accelerate the scrap forward. "Only friends here."

(The term 'friends' being used loosely. He doesn't consider himself the friend of many people, but he at least trusts the people in the room, and that is what is important.)

[fiercestwarrior]

Sif nodded and wanders over to the table, putting her weapons down on it within easy reach should a need to use them suddenly arise.

"What is that substance?"

It is not something she would call herself familiar with, much as she has seen plenty of strange things in her life.

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"It seems to be some kind of polymer that completely negates the effects of friction."

Bruce flicks another piece of scrap onto the orange-slick surface, watching it zip along before flying off the edge of the table. "Back home, humans have made things that reduce the effect of friction, but nothing like this. I'm guessing this technology was developed by the Capitol relatively recently." And by 'relatively', he meant some time in the last hundred years.