trans_9 | A safe place... Maybe.

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A safe place... Maybe.

It was a white, unwelcoming room. No windows to let any light in, but a couple of blindingly bright lights directly under the ceiling to make up for the lack of natural light. In most bases the infirmary was located underground to ensure at least a certain safety for the wounded. It was a place no one really wanted to go to willingly, and due to this quickly became the Medic's favorite place to stay at. It was a quiet place to retreat and think. To make up his mind and just work things over. But without a base to defend and without an infirmary to call his own, the sensoriums had to do.

About half of the room's walls were lined with cupboards, different cabinets and a counter to work on. Medical supplies of all kinds could be found there, but clearly were of little use here. More cupboards with different kinds of books and folders filled with paperwork were closer to the desk and equally useless. But they all added to the atmosphere. As did the cold examination table located in a mostly empty area, as it sometimes had to double as operation table. Never anything truly critical, though. Respawn usually took care of those.

The table currently was unoccupied. Safe for the blood it was covered with and which was lazily dripping down to the floor. Also: Fake. As had been the body it had come from. A nice touch, but not nearly as entertaining as the real thing.

More of the red liquid could be found on the Medic sitting behind the desk, scowl right in place as his head rested on his hands and he simply stared off into space, trying to make sense of it all somehow. This used to be the place where he could think best. Made sense out of things. Figure out stuff. But he just couldn't figure this out. Nothing of this made any sense at all, and those weird little theories he had cooked up himself and tossed right at the Pyro a few days ago weren't really that much better than the story the Pyromaniac had offered.

He had avoided the other RED since then. And spending DAYS on his own and with nothing to do even managed to unsettle the German. The man's head dropped down onto the desk unceremonically and he murmured one single word to himself to sum up the entirety of the situation as well as his current mood and how optimistic he was to find any solution at all, aside from simply accepting what he had been told.

"...scheiße."

[[ooc: Okay. So Medic is being his stubborn disbelieving self. Feel free to bother him, but keep in mind: You're doing it at your own risk.]]

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"Hey, is anyone using this Senso-ohhh." Howard wanders into what looks like a scene from an indie horror movie. Fluorescent lighting, blood, operating table covered in blood, doctor covered in blood. "Is the new Saw movie out already? I was looking for the Med Bay but I think I just took a wrong turn into crazytown."

The young man daring to disturb the current quiet instantly got fixed by the Medic's glare. A moment, maybe two passed without much of a reaction to the disturbance as the older man slowly, unwillingly went over Howard's entrance - And the words he has spoken.

Finally, the German lifted his head from the table again, glared at the stranger some more before casting a look around the room and finally settles his glare back onto the teenager. He snarls "I do not zhink zhat zhis place, by definition, does count as a town. At least for most people. Now be gone!"

Howard backs up a bit and bites down the urge to make fun of the guy's accent. "If I don't, will you turn me into whatever you turned all that blood's previous owner into?"

Interacting with these other beings around was something else Medic had avoided so far. And until now he had been avoided by them just as well. Which he certainly hadn't been complaining about.

"Actually..." Medic began to answer, looking thoughtful as he seemed to consider the option thoroughly, but in the end merely shook his head "Nein. I do not zhink you vould make a convincing puddle of holographic blood." the man tilted his head forward a little, so he could glare at Howard over his glasses "But I could turn you into a puddle of real blood, instead, if zhat is vhat you vish to become."

"I'll pass. Also, I'm pretty sure you can't do that here." And by 'pretty sure', he means hoping with all his might, because he can't see a way to get out of this without at least sleeping with his eyes open. That it's holographic blood is only a small comfort. "I'll just, um...who the hell are you so I can avoid you in the future?"

"So?" Medic asked with a mildly perked brow and got up, walked around the table, only to lean against it, crossing his arms "Do you zhink I can not do it because everyzhing hier is fake? Zhe room, zhe furniture, zhe instruments..." he paused a moment, then shrugged and reached one hand down to where the übersaw was safely hanging from his belt, tapping it lightly with two fingers "Vell. I can assure you, zhat my personal instruments are not fake and are bound to saw zhrough your bones vizhout fail."

He refrained from mentioning, that he wasn't exactly in the mood for anything like this at the moment. But thie kid didn't need to know. Just creep him out until he leaves until he leaves. Which seemed to be easy enough.

The German brought his hand back up and used it to push his glasses back up his nose "I do not zhink I haff to tell you my name. But zhere you go: I am zhe Medic."

Howard shifts his weight foot to foot, ready to sprint out of there if the Medic makes any sudden movements. He figures he's keeping his cool better than he would have a year ago, but then again, he had a pet sociopath tied up in his basement, so he's fairly used to death threats. "No, I'm thinking that if you decide to slice-and-dice me you'll run up against that part where Stacy's supposed to protect us. Or the Sensoriums are supposed to. Not that I'm asking you to try it."

He keeps his eyes trained on The Medic. "Uh huh. The Medic. Is that how you'd have introduced yourself to holographic bloodbag?"

Medic could tell when he was loosing ground in a conversation. And he didn't like that. Also, this kid's words worked with Pyro's weird story, which was disturbing. And he seemed to believe whatever he was sprouting there. But then again, if he was just part of the background, he would have to act as part of the background, wouldn't he? But usually the background didn't come to you and interact with you. That was even more ridiculous.

Somewhere around this point, the doctor couldn't help but frown at his own line of thoughts instead of frowning at Howard. Even he had to admit, that this was making less and less sense with each passing moment.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed "Nein. Vhy vould I do zhat? A Scout knows vhen he is confronted vizh a Medic. Zhey call for us often enough and most of zhe time for no real reason at all ozher zhan being annoying or--" he interrupted himself, noticing, that he was about to fall into a rant once more. Snorting, he decided to just switch the topic "You look healzhy. Vhat vould you vant in zhe med bay?"

Hmm. So he can be distracted, maybe. "So this guy was supposedly a Scout? Did a Scout kick your puppy or something or are they just like those guys at work you can't stand?"

Howard relaxes, just a hair. The Medic seems about as confused as Howard is, which means that he probably doesn't know some secret way to get around Stacy to hurt people. Howard figures The Medic's probably new, or phenomenally uninquisitive, but he's going to bet on the first.

He makes a face. "Well, I was looking for a job, but I'm thinking if you're my coworker the job will have more occupational hazards than I banked on."

"Scouts? Zhey are just like you: Annoying, nosy brats." Medic replied matter-of-factly. It should be explanation enough. Maybe even reason enough for this kid to just leave him alone?

However, the man tilted his head back a little, so he could effectively stare down his nose now as he grimaced himself, every bit of confusion well hidden once more "But say, vhat makes you assume I vork zhere? I never mentioned anyzhing of zhe likes. Additionally, vhat kind of medical knowledge do you even haff to seek zhat sort of occupation?"

"Tell me more about these annoying, nosy brats," Howard says.

"I can nurse an eight foot-tall gravel alcoholic back to health," he deadpans. Given Howard's small stature, it would be difficult not to stare down your nose at him, but Howard picks up on the meaning. The Medic's head motion is giving Howard an excellent view of his nostrils. Still, it reduces the intimidation factor by a point or two. Nostrils aren't exactly threatening. "What, do you just play a doctor on TV, then? What's with the coat?"

"Zhere is no reason for you to know more about zhem." came the simple reply, carrying an unspoken warning with it. If this was an attempt on spying on RED, someone in this very room would loose his head quite certainly. Though this one seemed harfly like a Spy. Or a member of BLU even. Was someone else planning on ruining their war after all?

He should better watch his words here.

There was a brief pause before he finally answered "Zhe contract I signed is not vizh anyone hier. So my vork has nozhing to do vizh zhe local medical facilities. Zhe coat is part of my uniform. Every field Medic vears it.Nozhing unusual." squinting his eyes a little, Medic watches the kid suspiciously. What would he make of those information...?

"Plain curiosity doesn't count as a weakness? I mean, since you hate them so much, and a vent session never hurt anybody. How many people are going to stand around and listen to you bitch about these guys?" Now he is fishing for information, not so much what the Medic tells him than how he'll react. Howard survived the FAYZ by being able to predict people, and the only way to get to point is to push at them and observe.

"How applicable is this contract when all our world's have been destroyed?"

Medic chuckled slightly despite himself, then shook his head "Nein. I do not hate them. Scouts are annoying. Everyone vho ever spend more zhan ten minutes vizh one vill find zhem annoying! But zhat is no reason to hate zhem." he looks away for a moment, then back again, glasses flashing for a moment as they catch the light from above and the man's tone gets serious again "You hate zhe Snipers and zhe Spies for being zhe covardly Schweinehunde zhat zhey are!"

He fell silent once more, tapping the fingers of one hand against his opposite arm before answering "Zhere is no proof." which generally meant, there was no proof for nothing. No proof that the story was true, no proof that it wasn't. No proof that it was all just a dream. No one had yet proven anything.

Spies, snipers, scouts. Howard looks the Medic up and down again, nodding as the older man speaks. "You get ripped right off the battlefield or something?" He figures this is possibly not the best person to bring up his plan of 'run away from anything that looks like it'll really kill you and leave the fighting to other saps'.

"Nope. There isn't. Just the word of a giant fleshy spaceship that may or may not torture us if we're out of line. Comforting, right?"

At the teenager's conclusion, Medic didn't know any better than to lift one halfway sceptical brow before he answered "Korrekt." It was the same word in English as in German, but the pronunciation this time was nothing but German. The kid should be capable of understanding it anyway.

Medic tilted his head to the right "Und do you believe vhat zhe ship is telling you?"

"Who were you fighting? You know, so I can keep an eye out and duck if you run into him and start trying to hack him up with a chainsaw."

He shakes his head. "Who knows? Nothing we can do about it, so I don't see the point in having an opinion on it."

"It is not a chainsaw, it is a bonesaw!" Medic corrected energetically and had said weapon drawn with one swift motion of his hand, just to hold it up in an almost demonstrating way "No chain. No engine." just one giant, cleaver-like blade with an equally giant syringe attached to it. And one giant needle right on top of said syringe. The German turned the weapon over "You cut bones vizh it. Not trees!"

He fixed Howard with his glare again, just to make sure the teenager had understood what he had just said before he added "Ve fight BLU. And according to zhe Pyro, zhere are no BLUs hier yet. So at zhe moment zhere is no enemy around and zherefore ve haff no reason to start a fight."

And a mere snort. So this one simply accepted the whole thing. That was almost to be expected, but yet again made him more doubtworthy. It was probably a decent idea to fish for some actual information himself at least "Vell zhen. Vho are you?"

"Yeah, okay, you can cut bones with the bonecutter. Congrats. Looks great for amputations, Doc." He shakes his head, deciding against telling the Medic about the Armory yet, just in case he doesn't know.

"Blue? Who're the Blues? You're not designated by countries or anything? That's new." It sounds almost like a horrible flag football game with ammunition.

"Hey, it's not like I don't want to know more, I just don't know enough to say whether or not it's true. No point in claiming knowledge of something you don't know." Unless said lie is advantageous. He gestures with his hands at himself. "No one important. Certainly not a trained field professional like yourself."

So he was a little spy after all. Maybe not a Spy, but a little spying nuisance that liked prying for information while either playing dumb, or being dumb enough to try this on a Medic. They would see how long his young visitor would still be keen on keeping up with his little hobby.

Medic merely kept glaring a little longer, then replaced the melee weapon where it belonged and stepped forward, reaching for the blutsauger "Very vell zhen, Herr Unwichtig. I am afraid, but zhis seems to be necessary." he said as he approached the younger man, drew the syringe gun and quickly fired two syringes filled with a quick and effective tranquilizer at Howard's legs. How would this protection the ship was supposed to offer react to some plain anesthetics?

Tentacles spring from the walls. One grabs Howard and pulls him back faster than the darts can hit him and the other restrains the Medic. Howard yelps and struggles against the tentacle.

||RED Medic, you have received one Violation for fighting,|| Stacy says.

Okay. So that's how the protection system works. Howard was thinking telekinesis or forcefields and isn't all that pleased about it being the tentacles again. He really hates the tentacles. Almost as much as he hates getting shot at with syringes.

"What the hell, man?"

As fast as he was, there was no way he could avoid that tentacle. The German cursed mildly in his native language as he was restrained, but refrained from any useless struggling. Instead, he rolled his eyes "I vas not fighting!" he complained aloud, feeling so very reminded of the many times they had pissed off the Administrator. Struhhling against that woman was about as pointless as struggling against one huge tentacle.

He shifted his glare back to Howard, baring his teeth angrily "Zhat is your fault! Tell it to let me go!"

The tentacle's already let Howard go, so he fumbles for the door. "Are you serious? Newsflash! You just tried to shoot me with needles. Have fun with your tentacle, Doctor Nutjob."

And with that he sprints out.

He watched the boy leave without any further word and then settled his glare on the tentacle. Great. Now that was just... Great.

But he remained quiet. And would remain so until Stacy let go of him again.

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A safe place... Maybe.

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