ximilialog | ( open ) we do what we can

CW: MENTIONS OF STABBING, MALNUTRITION & THE AFTER-EFFECTS OF BOTH

[ she had been awake when their group was brought back to station, as abrupt and jarring as her initial arrival had been. turns out second time's not the charm, feeling no more prepared for it as the first time around, but maybe that could have more to do with the fact she's still recovering from her injury, without any of the nutrition or medication available to aid in it.

or maybe it was hearing everything that the orb had to say, knowing none of the context for it, and all the more helpless because of it.

not that it wasn't hard to put two and two together after the fact. not that she could have done anything to help even if she'd known.

for the next couple of days, marta is on self-imposed bedrest in the infirmary as she receives the proper medication to recover from all that scorpion's bend had proved to be. each day, her pallor and condition improves, but even if her spirit hasn't quite caught up yet she will always spare a welcoming smile for anyone that happens to drop by. (a stark contrast, perhaps, to the fellow orber hovering around her bedside, like some half-guarddog, half-gargoyle manifestation of guilt. he probably won't bite, but all the same it's maybe best to wait until he's dipped out for a smoke or something.) ]

[ of course, as soon as she's discharged and able, marta will be right back on her daily grind. determined not to carry back the utter uselessness she'd felt all throughout the mission at scorpion's bend, she throws herself back into putting in as many hours as she can at the infirmary, checking in on those who are still healing, tracking down those who may still need healing, helping out where she can — even if all that amounts to is keeping people company with a good chat or book, or taking stock of their inventory (again).

feel free to catch her doing any of these, all of these — stop by for a check-up, flag her down for the next chapter in today's true crime novel, challenge her to a game of go, tell her to slow down maybe. ]

CW: ALCOHOL USE, MENTIONS OF MALNUTRITION

[ hello insomnia, her old friend. the few nights of rest she'd had towards the end of scorpion's bend — largely aided in part because of the malnutrition finally getting to her (and the cozy comforts of a dear friend) — and all that bedrest in the infirmary had done her well... but it seems her mind has decided,okay, enough of that, and now she's back to her usual sleepless nights.

one particular night finds marta wandering into the sunlight room, lacking the book usually attached to her hand. instead she carries with her a bottle of tequila pilfered from the supply room, already cracked open and sampled. hanging from the corner of her lips is a yet unlit corona cigar, a remnant of her stocking stuffer from the last time they'd all been on the station — what seems like ages ago now.

she picks her way through the field, half-melted snow crunching under her shoes. the sky is dark and angry-looking, matching the melancholy mood she finds herself in that night. finally coming upon a decent spot, marta settles herself down on a fallen stump. to the sky and no one at all, she lifts the bottle and toasts: ]

To Welford.

[ ...anyway, enough of that. there's only so many things she can control, only so many regrets she can undo (that is: one). what was it her mother always says? grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, courage to change the things i can, and wisdom to know the difference. she gets to the last part, eventually. you know, after all that tequila.

she's not the best at pretending everything's a-okay, cherry sundae sunshine, but she definitely starts to make more of a dedicated effort to picking herself up and moving— maybe not on, not yet, but... forward. gradually. any step is still progress.

today she's in the supply room, falling back on an old pasttime of station dumpster-diving. she picks her way through the leftover supplies and items from past delivery days. anyone happening in on her will find she's already been there quite a while, if the tote bag filled with random items and the costume jewelry she wears are of any indication. if you happen to join her, she will turn to you holding up a pretty unique-looking coat. ]

What do you think? Is it my color?

[It takes Daisy longer than it should have to come check up on the people in the infirmary, but she finally shows up two days later. Nearly bumping into Kovacs as he leaves the room, Daisy can guess who he was here to see. Marta isn't hard to spot, and as she approaches her bed, Daisy realizes she should've brought something for her.]

Hey.

[Daisy speaks softly,]

How are you doing?

[he missed out on her convalescence, having slept pretty hard from the moment they all returned. still, there was a faint inkling of Marta nearby...until there wasn't. same as others: flickers of presence...and then nothing. it's hard to parse as dream or reality in this state, but one particular moment leads to him stirring, softly startling awake as the feeling of others nearby simply...vanishes.

Blue's breath sucks in sharply as his eyes flutter open, filled with fresh alarm.

where is he. where is...anyone?]

[That's a sad little sight, isn't it? Rosinante finds himself lurking in the sunlight room often just to get away from the slightly claustrophobic feeling of those hallways he just barely fits in, and so he often sees people come and go who are looking for some kind of escape of their own.

He doesn't often join them, but this looks like a time it's called for. He makes his way over slowly, hands in his pockets, then withdraws his lighter and flicks the flame to life, holding it out in front of her.]

To Welford. Poor man.

[ whatever happens with the orb, even the result of what happened to old man welford — once they get that familiar pull that transports them back to the station, landing him amongst the large crowd of orbers and standing before degar who all too swiftly disappears into the north wing, kovacs' eyes are focused on peering around through the different faces, familiar enough with plenty of them but concerned in finding one in particular.

he still stands there in her blood, though it's long since dried now, clothes partially covered in crimson, stained with dirt and rippled in plenty of places. there's bouldersnake blood on him too, something that certain others had been quite vocal about in their disapproval, but that argument is the furthest thing from his mind, knowing precisely what had gotten him entangled in the fights in the first place.

when he does finally see her, he goes still for a moment, like he has to make sure that it's her, that his own blood loss and likely concussions aren't tricking his mind right now. she's alive, she's conscious, she's standing, and though he's still too far to get good insight on the state of her injuries, she's no longer that passed out body that he'd carried in his arms, desperate for help.

his feet are already moving, nudging through bodies, not concerned if he pushes a little too hard as he meets her eyes and rushes forward to meet her. ]

[ One thing that absolutely blows in this aftermath is catching up with people and realizing others were hurt in that last, chaotic struggle. Now that Yzak is back on his feet again (he wasn't hurt any more, simply spent that first day back alone and going thru it as everything came back to hit him) he's checking in on his teammates here.

And he's surprised to see Marta among them. ]

What the hell happened to you?

[ Words blunt, but his tone lacks that, sounding more concerned than anything. ]

[ truthfully, it would have only embarrassed marta if daisy had brought anything to her bedside, embarrassed enough as she is having to be on bedrest in the first place. just her presence and company is enough to put a smile back on her face, where previously it might have looked mildly exasperated likely thanks to the person daisy had just bumped into along the way. she sits up a little more in bed as daisy approaches, huffing out a light laugh at her question. ]

Not terrible enough you need to speak so carefully. [ her words are reassuring rather than mocking or chiding, with just a light sprinkle of self-deprecation. you know, for flavor. ]

I'll only be here a few days, thankfully. Yelena and Erik did wonders for me back on the station.

[ she tilts her head at daisy, gesturing her arm towards the chair that had just been recently vacated. ]

I heard you took care of the mines.

[ it's such a weird feeling, being brought back like that, in the blink of an eye. she doesn't know if it's due to the bloodloss or the malnutrition, but she "lands" unstably, swaying from the shock of the transport so much so that she has to throw a hand out against the nearby wall for support. before them viveca and degar are speaking, but she hardly hears a word they say as she passes a hand across her damp brow. she should get to the infirmary, check on her vitals, finally change out of these blood-stained clothes, and maybe even grab a power bar on the way, but her mind is buzzing, her skin feels raw and electric. ironically enough no nausea befalls her, even as she works on steadying herself on her own two feet.

degar leaves, viveca dismisses them, and slowly the lot of them work on putting the pieces of themselves back together. marta looks up as the bodies around her begin to shift, and just like that her mind catches up with the rest of her. faces she hadn't seen for hours stand before her now, and immediately her eyes start to scan the crowd for one in particular. if they're all back, does that mean—?

their eyes meet just as he crosses the room towards her, and instinctively she moves too, giving into a different kind of pull in her gut. she shouldn't, but she does it anyway, reaching for him the instant he's within distance and curling her arms around him as tight as she can muster. there are a dozen things she could say in that moment when they finally meet halfway, but she's tired and hungry and aching somewhere she can't reach. ]

Dónde estabas?

[ marta would much rather have her nose buried in a book standing vigil at someone else's bedside and monitoring their vitals than be one of the ones bedridden herself, but then again maybe that's a common sentiment. it's not like anyone likes being unwell, but there's a certain level of shame here when marta considers her profession, the fact this is her first mission in general.

still, she can appreciate yzak's candor, even prompting a wan little smile from her that's definitely amused, if a little tired. (of herself, of course.) ]

Made friends with a Bouldersnake's bladed tail, [ she answers around a sigh. ] But I'm better now, I promise.

[ marta looks up from the monitor she'd been taking notes on when blue stirs, quick to slide to his side so he can see he isn't alone. ]

Hey, [ she greets, voice soft. her hand comes to rest lightly over his wrist, the pressure a gentle reassurance of reality. ] It's okay. You're back on the station, in the infirmary.

[ marta had already plucked the cigar from her mouth so she could take a swig in honor of the man they'd left behind, the burn from the liquor pulling a grimace on her face before she can control it into something milder once he makes his presence known. (strange, she thinks distractedly; large man like rosinante, and she hadn't noticed him at all until now.)

mouth no longer preoccupied, she replaces the cigar and takes a few puffs to get it started before leaning back to give him a grateful nod through the clouds of smoke. ]

Thanks. [ for the light. for the commiseration.

she holds out both the cigar and the bottle in offering. ]

Pick your poison?

[He sits down beside her, trying to make himself small enough to match as well as he can - which he can't, but it's the effort that counts, right? His long legs stick out in the snow in front of him and he leans back on one hand, then selects the cigar.]

Haven't had one of these in ages. Wouldn't have guessed you were the type to smoke them, either.

[Not a bad thing though, just an observation. He takes a mouthful of smoke and lets it linger before slowly exhaling, and passing the cigar back.]

[his eyes flicker over to her at the sound of her voice, his heart still in his throat with alarm. her words and tone are familiar, but--

why...]

...Why can-- [his voice croaks, dehydrated, forcing him to swallow.

why can't i feel your presence? he asks, but the thought doesn't leave him, doesn't reach her mind.

she's...there's nothing behind her words. her touch.

his eyes start to well up in his confusion and alarm. it's like Badrock all over again.]

Would you consider that one an exciting or a boring story?

[ Haha look at him, trying to be a smartass. ]

[ Megatron is frazzled and worn thin by the time he gets to Marta's bedside. With doctor McCoy also wounded, he's taken a good deal of the treatment and monitoring on himself, though he's a relative novice at human medicine. Thankfully the tools McCoy has help quite a bit and the medical texts on hand serve to fill in the gaps in knowledge.

So Marta shouldn't be too alarmed when a large metallic robot of a person leans over her bed. He's probably twice her height, maybe a little less with his mass shifted to better fit on the station. ]

How are you feeling?

[ A brusque question as he consults the medical chart and readouts. ]

Stabbed, were you?

[Ah yes, the supply room. Even when Hermann is not sauntering between the lab and the sunlight room, he will poke his head inside on occasion. And it so happens that Hermann fumbled in just when Marta is doing her fair share of dumpster-diving. And he is hard-pressed to pass judgment on the look of excitement on her face as she plucks out the little trinkets from every nook and cranny she spots.

That coat on the other hand? Well…]

Practical. Though I’m afraid it does little to protect your legs if inclimate weather were to pass.

[Daisy smiles at Marta when she points out that she doesn't need to talk so softly,]

Didn't want to wake up anyone else.

[Taking a seat in the chair, Daisy gives Marta a once over. She looks better than she was expecting. Especially considering all of the blood she saw on Kovacs.]

They're good like that.

[She remembers how Erik helped her during their first mission, and while she knows Yelena she hasn't had to be patched up by her before. Eyebrows lifting when she brings up the mines, Daisy leans back in the chair.]

It wasn't just me, but, I did help.

[Crossing one leg over the other, she looks around the room to see who else is in here before her eyes land back on Marta.]

How's it feel to be the one being looked after this time?

[ seeing the alarm only worsen in his eyes has marta setting down his chart so she could move closer still to his bedside and take both of his hands into hers. ]

Blue. [ she says his name calmly, clearly. leaning down so her face is level to his and he can focus on her eyes. ] You're okay, you're — probably in shock. Take a moment, just breathe. Okay?

[ she mimics the motions for him — in, out. in, out. it's only when she senses he's calmed somewhat that she releases one of his hands to reach for a glass of water beside the bed, holding it out for him. ]

Here, for your throat. When you're ready... why don't you tell me what was the last thing you remember.

[ were marta in a lighter mood, she might have found his attempts to minimize himself a funny sight. she manages a small smile, but it's a distant thing, an acknowledgment of a merriment she could have enjoyed, were she allowed to. (who's stopping her, really? just her own guilt, she supposes.)

she takes another long sip from her bottle as he indulges in the cigar, her smile turning wistful as the smell lingers, already clinging to her hair. ]

I don't, not really. It just reminds me of home.

[ marta glances down as she holds the coat a little closer to her body, lips pursing as she tries to imagine herself sporting the look. it would probably look quite silly with all the costume jewelry she's got on, but luckily there doesn't seem to be a mirror around to dissuade her. she'd have to take hermann's word for it and, true to form, practical is a perfect assessment for her. ]

So what you're saying is now I need to find some high boots.

[it takes some doing, but Blue does at least give her a few shaken breaths to ride out the worst of that initial panic, but he's not free of the fear even when she comes with water. he can't figure this out in a panicked state, and he only has so many resources to rely on as it is - that no psionic color glowed to life with his fear is proof to that!

so he takes the water, brow pinching with a wince as it hits his raw throat. he gets a few sips down before he turns his head away to refuse any more, trying to figure out where he is. it looks like the infirmary, but...!]

Where...are they... [he looks back over to her.] The real ones.

[ while it's certainly not marta's first time seeing one of the towering inorganics in their motley crew, the sight has yet to become common enough for her not to give a slight start when she stirs from her light rest to find one of them hovering over her, chart in hand.

it's just for a second, though, before her brain catches up her eyes, and she recalls megatron's tireless work tending to those of them who had been immediately admitted. ]

Yes, [ she answers, all business to match his own tone. for a second she distractedly glances at the chair beside the bed — empty. perhaps kovacs had finally heeded her insistence in getting himself something to eat.

shifting her attention back to megatron, her lips flatten out into a faint smile. ]

Liver. I was stabilized, then closed up by Charter magic to prevent further bleeding.

[ ah, wait. he had a more subjective question, hadn't he? ]

I'm... fine. The IV is helping a lot.

( open ) we do what we can

infirmary | february 13-15

infirmary | all throughout the rest of february

sunlight room | february 21

small teleportation room/supply drop room | end of february

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