wearingthestars | TRP Inbox

[Listen, he's ]

[ no he's really got no excuse for this, Dustin just doesn't care enough about manners right now, or in general.]

Medical stuff.
Tommy said you were capable.

What kind of medical stuff?
I am pretty capable, but we have a doctor with real doctor experience now, depending on what you're looking for?

It's not serious or anything.
I mean, I guess technically it's surgery.
But it's really minor surgery.
It's complicated.

You're referring to Tae Takemi?
The person that expects to have people divulge their entire medical histories to her in exchange for treatment?
You trust her?

If it was me, I would definitely pick the doctor who has actually done real surgery before. I've done my best attempts here, but I'm not really trained in that.

Yes, Dr. Takemi.
She's very capable. I trust her more than I trust me with that stuff.

[On the one hand, Billy's reasoning makes a lot of sense and Dustin is inclined to agree with him.]

[On the other hand, nosy doctors make him so nervous for so many reasons. He can't just accept Billy's word at face value.]

Proof?

Proof of...what?
Her skill?
My lack of a doctorate?
What are you looking for?

Isn't it obvious?

[No, Dustin, it really isn't.]

How do you know she's capable?
Just because she claims to have degrees and experience doesn't mean she's telling the truth about either of those things.
She could be using it as a cover to make people more likely to trust her
Share private medical information that she could use later, etc.

Have you seen her actually apply herself to anything medical-related?

I mean...I work with her almost every day, so I'm pretty sure, yeah.
My parents are doctors and if she's not she's got her acts down pat.
Why do you think she would want to use any of that information against someone?
Or that I wouldn't? (I wouldn't, btw, just- you don't know me either, but you seem to trust me more?)

Tommy trusts you.

[Which is apparently all he has to say to justify that.]

Tae's barely been here long enough to rule out that she doesn't have hidden motives.
I'm not going to pretend that I know what those are, I don't fucking know her.
But I've seen enough examples in other medical professionals to know it could happen.
The fact that your parents are also doctors sure as fuck doesn't exonerate all the rest.

No one is going to make you see Dr. Takemi if you don't want to.
If you feel more comfortable with me we can discuss things.

man I don't fucking know
I just don't want my shit more messed up than it already is.
If you're not confident that you can do this successfully then like
god fucking damnit
Can you sit in or whatever?
Make sure she doesn't try anything?

To be fair, I still don't know what 'it' is.
If you can tell me a little more about what you need I can help you better.
Of course, I can sit in if that would help. I'm sure she wouldn't mind as long as it's what you want.
You're safe here.

Don't really want to explain it on the network.
These messages aren't as private as I'd like.
It will be easier if I just show you, anyway.
Guessing you'd want me to meet you at the hospital?

We can do it in person if you like.
Hospital is probably best, but if you'd rather I come to you I can?

Don't have somewhere sterile enough for what I need.
Plus, you don't need to know where I live.
I'll come to you.
Be there in 30.

[lol, Billy, who was only planning to talk about the issue, certainly not start any surgery out in the wild, and who locate Dustin easily with a spell, chooses not to comment on this.]

See you then!

[Probably for the best that he doesn't.]

[Regardless, his message meets approximately thirty-five minutes of radio silence before the main entrance to the Hospital opens and Dustin very cautiously wanders inside. He looks...actually really terrible, and that's saying a lot, because he's always lowkey fidgety and uncomfortable even on his good days. His already pale complexion is downright pallid, eyes unfocused and jittery in spite of how they swivel around to anxiously take in the Hospital landing, and he's holding his right arm a bit awkwardly across his midriff like he's trying to guard it. Everything about his appearance announces that he's in a nontrivial amount of pain.]

[Not a good time to let that distract him, though - one of the other Hospital residents could be lurking to meet prospective victims at the front door instead, so Dustin remains on-guard. He has, of course, not brought his communications device with him to let Billy know that he's arrived.]

[Knowing he would have company soon, Billy made his way to the entrance area not long after the last message, busing himself with work, and checking in every so often. He was checking his device as he wanders out this time, making sure he hasn't received any messages, when he spies someone standing uncertainly in the landing and offers a wave as he approaches.]

Dustin?

[Billy looks (naturally) a lot like Tommy, with some colour swapping, and a bit younger now with the strange way this place works, but it's clear this is Tommy's twin even if he carries himself quite differently.]

Hey, I'm Billy.

[Dustin visibly flinches at the sound of his name. He really ought to have been expecting Billy to wait for him, but his mind was fixed on other, much less likely things, so he still manages to be caught off-guard. His eyes flicker, focus, and narrow in on Billy in an instant.]

Yeah, I know.

[Similarities to Tommy aside, Dustin's long since memorized everyone's portraits from the "Dictionary;" he couldn't forget Billy's face if he wanted to. He stands stock-still and wary as he's approached. No return wave, no smile, no acknowledgement that Billy's found the right person.]

Somewhere private we can talk?

[Billy's a little thrown by the response, but it does enough to cement this as the same person from the network. He flushes a little, feeling awkward, but nods, gesturing to a nearby door way and going inside first in case Dustin was afraid it was booby trapped in some manner.]

You really don't like doctors, huh?

[At least Billy seems willing to humor his more paranoid tendencies. Dustin takes one last anxious glance around the entryway before shuffling after him, his posture rigid.]

No.

[Is he going to elaborate? Also no.

[Dustin steps inside the room, looks over it once, then quietly closes the door behind him and leans his back against one of the side walls. His whole demeanor shifts in an instant; he'd been trying not to look too uncomfortable on the long walk here so that no one would be tempted to flag him down and ask Questions, but now that he's somewhere private with his intended audience, that's not so much of a concern. Dustin deflates with a shuddering breath, his expression twisting into something pained and deeply embarrassed.]

...Think I fucked up, a little.

[Billy's expression twists with concern, and he has to consciously keep himself from crowding in to check on him. He's only just managed to get him here, if he scares him off now he might never trust any of the doctors here to help him.]

Fucked up how? Here, sit down. Tell me what's wrong. How can I help? What do you need?

[That's a lot of questions. Immediately overwhelmed by Billy's outpouring of concern, all filters come off and Dustin launches into a ramble. He does not sit down.]

I-I--Listen. I found this--I mean, okay, I didn't find it, it just--showed up, in my workshop. Which is suspicious as fuck, right? But I--I can tell that I made it. I just. Don't remember doing it?

[Dustin sweeps a hand into his hair - the one not still cradled in front of him, anyway.]

Not important. Uh--so it needs a power source, and I did some calculations and reverse-engineering and it's--I'm the power source. It just needed some connections, so I made those, and I--I installed one, but-- [He unconsciously reaches down to grip at his forearm.] --fuck, it hurts. It hurts so fucking much. I think something's wrong.

You- wait you don't-

[Billy tries his best to follow what Dustin's saying.]

You installed something? In your- uh- [His eyes flick down to Dustin's forearm and frowns, trying to give a reassuring nod.] I can help, I just- are you um- cybernetic, or am I misunderstanding? I just want to make sure I know what I'm doing.

No. I mean--not technically. It's more of an...interface thing.

[Dustin's gaze follows Billy's, then he looks away with a quick breath.]

--Here, I'll just, um--

[He did say it would be easier to show him, didn't he? Plus, this might keep Billy from asking any more specific questions about the nature of his abilities - a topic that Dustin would still like to avoid, although they've already kind of toed over that line at this point in the conversation.

[Dustin steps away from the wall so he can wriggle out of his coat, draping it over the most convenient surface available before (finally) finding a place to sit down. His right arm looks lumpy even under the several layers of sweaters he's wearing, and when he gingerly rolls up the series of sleeves overtop, the reason becomes obvious: The middle of his thin forearm is wrapped tight in gauze and stuffed with padding. Dark, dried blood stains the top of it.]

Wanted to change the bandages before I got here, but I, ah. Ran out.

TRP Inbox

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

no subject

text -> action

action onwards

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

CW: blood and other post-op injury descriptions from here onward

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)