![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
video.
[Good evening chelonauts, tonight you are being treated to the fine sight of one (1) bruised and somewhat bloody Ant-Man looking far more annoyed than he has looked his entire stay on this turtle. There are scrapes and cuts all over his face and his mouth is a thin line that is barely visible until he opens it to speak.]
Heads up: if any of you guys see a rooster that looks like it's been fused with a telephone box, do me a huge favor and run, not walk, in the opposite direction if you want to wake up tomorrow with still ten fingers. [He hasn't lost any of his own yet but it's only a matter of time.] I don't think there's another one of these Frankenchickens out there but just in case.
[There's long-suffering sigh and he's about to say more when he immediately gets drowned out by the rooster rattling around in its makeshift cage and crowing its little cybernetic head off. At the rate things are going, that cage ain't gonna hold it much longer and then fingers are actually going to be lost.
Scott turns and attempts to shush the rooster several times, but since the rooster listens to him about as well as everyone else does (which is to say not at all), he finally gives up and just ignores the damn thing, pinching his nose in exasperation.]
Anyone have any extra bandages? And maybe a flamethrower? You'll get paid back in chicken patties.
Heads up: if any of you guys see a rooster that looks like it's been fused with a telephone box, do me a huge favor and run, not walk, in the opposite direction if you want to wake up tomorrow with still ten fingers. [He hasn't lost any of his own yet but it's only a matter of time.] I don't think there's another one of these Frankenchickens out there but just in case.
[There's long-suffering sigh and he's about to say more when he immediately gets drowned out by the rooster rattling around in its makeshift cage and crowing its little cybernetic head off. At the rate things are going, that cage ain't gonna hold it much longer and then fingers are actually going to be lost.
Scott turns and attempts to shush the rooster several times, but since the rooster listens to him about as well as everyone else does (which is to say not at all), he finally gives up and just ignores the damn thing, pinching his nose in exasperation.]
Anyone have any extra bandages? And maybe a flamethrower? You'll get paid back in chicken patties.
video;
[Maybe. Hopefully.]
video;
I'll be over there as soon as I can.
[Aand the feed cuts.]
video/action;
[Except he's far too late because the screen is already black by the time he finishes uttering the word. Naturally, the proper response to that is to sulk for half a second (he's never really grown up) before shooting the chicken a dark glare and marching out of the room.
If he's going to put up with treatment, the rooster is going to be as far, far away as possible so as to minimize damage to unsuspecting third parties.
Thus, Bianca will find him outside his door, leaning against the wall idly while he waits.]
action;
Why did you go near the rooster again if it injured you that much in the first place!?
[Because naturally this is the first thing to tell him off for.]
Thank you for waiting outside, it made it easier to find you, but I'm not patching you up out here. I'm Bianca, by the way.
[Don't challenge it, Scott, she's a nurse.]
action;
Guess not.]
Uh...to get it out of the way in case you had to come inside?
[His voice is duly chastised though, even if his point is somewhat legitimate.]
Also what's wrong with doing it outside? There's plenty of space outside.
no subject
It's considerate of you to think of it, then.
And while there's plenty of space out here, there's also no running water.
[Scott, you're bleeding all over. Soap and water is mandatory at this point.]
no subject
Oh. There's that, isn't there?
[The running water is definitely a good idea. However, the chicken is about three feet away from said running water, which is definitely not a good idea. Hmm.]
Can we do it in the kitchen? There's less chicken and more water in the kitchen.
no subject
The kitchen will work. More space is better.
I don't think I caught your name earlier, by the way.
[She is not especially afraid of the rooster.]
no subject
I'm Scott. Thanks for being willing to come over, Ms. ...uh...
[Don't punch him for saying Ms. he didn't want to be rude and assume she was married already.
While he's saying it, he's moving back towards the suite door, hand gripping the doorknob and twisting to open it. Unfortunately for him, it's not opening. Looks like someone accidentally locked himself out today.]
....Uh. [Of course. Of course he would lock himself out on the one day he's suffering injuries from a cyborg rooster, of course.] You think we could use your place instead? I think I hear the rooster getting really angry inside.
[Not technically a lie.]
no subject
[Gosh, Scott, she's not going to punch him for being polite. Or even yell at him.]
--Did you lock yourself out?
[Scott this is really not the best first impression you can have on someone.]
How are you going to get the rooster out of there if you're locked out?
no subject
Nice to meet you, Bianca.
[The last name doesn't ring a bell yet as he is more concerned about how he is going to get back into his house, since all his shrink-me stuff is still in the house.
They better have locksmiths on this turtle.]
Maybe. Probably. Definitely. [He tries wiggling the doorknob again, to no avail. Dammit.] And it's actually better this way since the rooster can't get out and I can't go in to get mauled more.
[It's a win-win for everyone!]
no subject
[She isn't sure about that win-win.]
Are you sure it won't break free? If it's some sort of cyborg rooster how do you know it won't break out of whatever you put it in?
Hopefully you don't have anything important in there if that happens.
[Even normal chickens can wreck things and injure people.]
no subject
[Or rather, call it the desperate hopes and prayers of a man who is a little too poor right now to afford replacing everything he's got inside his little suite. He's gotten pretty good at making desperate hopes and wishes, even though only a scant few of them have been granted lately.
But! Bianca brings up a few awfully good points, and it's with a sigh that he turns around and straightens, tapping his chin twice before he fixates her with a curious stare.]
You wouldn't happen to have any bobby pins on you, would you? Or maybe a thin but sturdy piece of plastic, like a credit card?
no subject
I have my work badge from before I got here.
[She pulls it out of her pocket. It's silly to keep it on her, but long habits die hard.]
Will this do?
no subject
[He takes it from her grasp carefully and then starts sliding it into the crack between the door and the frame. It takes a minute and a half and a little elbow work but soon he's shoving against the door and getting it to open.
There's a belated realization that he probably should've installed better locks onto his door if this is how easily a person can get in, but there's not a whole lot of stuff he'd miss even if it were to get stolen.
Pulling Bianca's work badge back, he blows on it gently and pats it off before returning it to her.]
Thanks. Sorry if it looks a little worse for the wear - I promise to pay for a replacement if you need one.
no subject
[She takes it back and slips it into her pocket.]
This came with me, so it doesn't really need to be replaced here. I don't even know if it can be.
We should get you patched up now that we can.
no subject
Not that he would've been able to stop her anyway.]
Yeah, guess so. [Hmm.] Is there anything specific you need? Water, bandages...?
[None of which he really has minus the water.]
no subject
Soap and water.
I have everything else I'll need in here.
[After looking a bit, she walks over to his kitchen and sets the first aid kit on the table. There is space for it, right?]
no subject
But he does his best not to let the state of his place get to him and starts the tap while digging for some soap in one of the drawers, which luckily he does actually have some of.]
You know, if you give me some bandages I can probably take care of myself.
no subject
I'll take care of it.
Wash up, it'll be easier to clean everything out and put the bandages on if you don't have blood covering everything.
[In the meantime, she moves things around on the table to give enough space to actually pull stuff out from the first aid kit. Scissors, tape, bandage gauze, and iodine. Sorry, Scott, it's what she was able to find at the time. This is going to sting.]
no subject
You sound like my mom.
[Even though he's quite sure she can't be that much older (if even older) than he is.
But he does as she instructs, heading over to the sink to rinse off his face and fingers and whatever parts of him are still splattered with blood. It doesn't take too long before he's making his way back to where she's standing.]
no subject
Well, I am a mom. I'm a nurse too.
[Once he's finished and has moved back over, she directs him to sit down and begins to clean out the various cuts, scrapes, and possibly gouges with the iodine.]
You're not that bad off, for being attacked by some kind of cyborg rooster. [She can't believe she just said that.]
Even normal roosters can do a lot of damage when they get it into their heads.
[Injuries caused by angry birds are a very real and painful thing.]
no subject
I always knew there was a reason why I liked living in the city better than in the country. [He's trying to keep all of this light-hearted.] Never been attacked by a normal rooster before and I'd like to keep it that way.
[But, he's curious.]
Is Jaime your only kid or do you have more back home?
no subject
El Paso's actually a pretty big city. It's only out near the city limits that there are rural parts. [And the occasional person who thinks keeping a rooster as a pet in the middle of a suburban neighborhood is completely reasonable.
And then, keeping her voice steady:]
I also have a younger daughter, Milagro.
[If Scott asks how old she is the mun's getting shanked.]
no subject
El Paso. [The way he says it suggests he's never had to utter a Spanish word in his life that didn't come off a Taco Bell menu.] That's in Texas, right? I went there once for a electronics symposium. It's nice.
[He doesn't want to think about the daughter thing, doesn't want to envision this woman with a wild smile on her face and a grinning shrieking child in her arms, but his mind is already there. Except that in place of Bianca and a faceless girl it's an image of him and Cassie.
Damn it.]
So how old's your daughter?
[He doesn't really want to talk about daughters, but if the alternative is five minutes of silence then he'll keep asking questions until there's no silence left to sit and mope in.]
[
NO REGRETS.](no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)