video.

[langsyne]

[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.

Comments

[asoothingvoice]

[She deliberately delays answering Scott's question for a moment, even as she accidentally jabs a bit too much iodine onto one cut. Just to stop the short pang over thinking of being here without Milagro and 'Berto.]

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.]

[langsyne]

[WINCING AT THAT IODINE but Scott doesn't utter a sound. It would be unmanly to squeak in pain so instead he focuses on the conversation.]

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.]

[asoothingvoice]

It is.

She's eight.

[She doesn't particularly want to think too much on the fact that it's only her and Jaime here, even as dangerous as it might be; she already misses her husband and daughter, and she hasn't even been here for very long.]

Do you have any kids of your own?

[Just because his suite looks like the definition of 'bachelor pad' doesn't mean he doesn't have a family of his own.]

[langsyne]

[It's hard not to let his shoulders sag in grief at the question but he manages to keep them upright all the same, though his face falls a little. Ahhh, Cassie. There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't think of her, right after waking up and right before falling asleep.]

I did. She's not here with me.

[The use of past tense gives things away, even with his half-hearted attempt at hedging. It's still not a topic he's comfortable discussing, even after the year that had passed since her death.

But he forces a smile anyway. It's tired and wan, but even weak humor is better than a cloud of depression, right?]

Probably better she's not. I would've yelled so much over boyfriends.

[asoothingvoice]

[She's moved on to cutting gauze and applying it with tape to the larger cuts. By the time he's forcing a smile, Bianca's touches are gentle, just enough to make the tape adhese to Scott's skin.]

I'm sorry.

[Jaime had disappeared for a year, and all those months, not knowing what had happened to her son, whether he was alive or dead, had been terrible, the worst time in her life, and in 'Berto's. They had only begun to accept the possibility that he wasn't coming back when he had suddenly returned. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like if he had died and they had known it. With him just vanishing, there was always the hope he was alive, somewhere.

The fact that he's trying to smile about it means it's either been long enough, or that he's more internally resilient than his small fight against the cyborg rooster suggests, and she gives him one in return.]

I'm sure you weren't looking forward to it.

[Her husband's already started watching the neighborhood boys who sometimes play with Milagro warily and their little girl's still at the age where kids think cooties are a thing.]

Almost done. [All the biggest and most clustered cuts have been taken care of at this point.]

[langsyne]

[Hey now, he is extremely resilient, thank you very much. That robot chicken has nothing on Ant-Man. All the same, Scott's grateful for lack of prying, and he actually does manage a genuine smile at Bianca's comment.]

You kidding? It would've been the best part of my day, waving around a baseball bat and threatening to break their legs if they so much as touched her.

[There is a small jerk-ish part of him that still hasn't grown up yet, to the surprise of absolutely no one. Guy's gotta find entertainment in his life somehow, right? Also he can get away with it because it's stereotypical dad behavior so no way he was going to waste that opportunity if he could help it.

Buuuut he should probably shut up about breaking boys' legs in before he gets branded as a violent jerk. In the eventuality his history leaks, he'd prefer it not be under the assumption that he beat kids for a living.]

Thanks though. Really. [Likely he would've ended up the the Abominable Ant-Man instead of the Astonishing Ant-Man if Bianca hadn't offered to come over.] How much do I owe you?

[It's a joke. Mostly.]

[asoothingvoice]

[That's probably exactly what 'Berto's planning, so it gets a bit of a laugh from her.

You're welcome. This time, nothing, if only because you didn't need to get a finger reattached.

[That would require all out surgery.]

[langsyne]

[Ouch. That is a terrifying thought and he hopes it never becomes reality. But maybe if he stays away from Poyo it'll stay a thought, preferably one that never sees the light of day again.]

I'll try not to lose a finger next time. [Err. Wait.] Not that there'll be a next time. There will definitely not be a next time.

[If only because he probably wouldn't come out of it alive. Clearing his throat, he gestures towards all of her unpacked supplies.]

Need any help cleaning up? Or an escort back home?

[asoothingvoice]

That sounds like a good plan. Once was probably more than enough.

[Scott, try to keep all your fingers attached, please.]

I wouldn't mind any help cleaning up, though I think you said you didn't want to leave the rooster alone?

[Not to mention the need to try to preserve the timeline. Backtags!]

[langsyne]

[Who needs timeline preservation when you're from comics!!

At the mention of Poyo, he winces. The damn chicken still exists, doesn't it?]

Right. The chicken's still a thing. [Dammit.] But I'll help clean and then you can be on your way.

[asoothingvoice]

[The players, of course! While all our characters point and laugh. 'Cept maybe not your guys.]

Yes, it is. Funny how that works, isn't it? [She sounds amused as she says it, though.]

I can also help you tidy all this up too, before I leave. [A wave at cereal bowl mountain.]

[langsyne]

Uhh....

[Wow, way to make a grown man blush, Bianca. Despite the fact that Scott is perfectly comfortable with his cleanliness habits when it comes to friends, Bianca is not a friend and probably did not need to be exposed to his pigsty of a kitchen.]

That's—that's really okay. Really. I'm sure you have much better things to do with your time [than help a grown man clean his kitchen].

[asoothingvoice]

[Scott, your friends are terrible if they let you live like this. No one's meant to live off of cereal alone, much less leave a mess like this from it.]

It'll give you a chance to put off dealing with the rooster.

[langsyne]

[He cracks an innocent smile at that.]

Yeah, but that wouldn't be very responsible, now would it?

[asoothingvoice]

[She can only shrug back.]

It's impossible to be responsible all the time.

[Sometimes you just have to relax and hope your children don't get into a fight over the remotes.]

[langsyne]

[He's grateful he only had one child.]

That's true. But really, I can handle this. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. [Look he's even doing the corresponding motions.]

[asoothingvoice]

[She's going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one.]

Try not to. [She says that with a smile as she starts putting things back into the first aid kit she brought with her.]