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[ooc: I'm hideing this one due to E for Emo and the beginning of a hinted to canon addiction]

Outside by the lake the lone medic sits on the shore, the tops of his jumpboots close enough to the water that when the next wave comes in they get wet. Gene shakes from head to toe feeling the pain courseing through his veins worse than it had during Normandy. And it was a minor and a medium healing- it shouldn't be like this. Curled up against his knees he rocked back and forth with his lips moving so fast in prayer that he couldn't even make the words out that he was saying. However, Eugene Roe knew them by heart.

Without even thinking he reaches into one of his pockets pulling out a syrette. Gene eyes it carefully, it's not something he wants to do again but it hurts and it hurts a lot. Not even the praying is taking it away like it should and that is enough to make him inwardly panic.

Tearing the top cap off he eyes the needle carefully. Needles never bothered him but this..this was different. Licking his lips once as if a moments heitation were coming on, he slowly stuck the needle into his left arm where he had the sleeve rolled back past his elbow. A gentle little squeeze given causeing the rush of masked relief to slowly start working its way through him.

Laying back onto the grass Roe closed his eyes with his lips still mouthing the words of a prayer. It would fade in time..or the morphine would wear off first. He hoped for the earlier option.

Anyone is welcome to come check on the medic.

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"Dr Roe?"

He'd been seen, and therefore now has a Guppy behind him, looking down with a degree of concern.

Dark eyes slowly open, his hand clinching the syrette into hideing. "Ain' no doctor, kid." The words are drawled out more than usual as if carefully making sure he can even say them. "Jus' a medic."

So much for a moments rest it seems as Gene sits back up giving Guppy a quick glance over. "Yous look like 'ell. Been workin th' carnage after tha' fight?"

"Sorry, my mistake."

It's too late to hide it, he already saw it. Observant little bugger.

"Physician, heal thyself." he says quietly, crouching next to him so he doesn't have to crane his neck. "Yeah, and keeping up in case any more dropped in. Were you in it?"

"No but a friend was. Luz don' know whens t' be quiet, sadly." Not that it was the cause of the fight. For the most part, at least.

"Helped a little after though. Yous got'sa nice place in there- th' Army would be jealous."

Shifting where he sits Gene takes the chance to slide the syrette back into one of his jacket pockets as he straightens it back out before unrolling his sleeve back down to his wrist. "Woulda died t' have had it a' Normandy."

"I can get you a clean one of those." Guppy says quietly, without any signs of judging the man. "Or as many as you need. But it needs to go in a sharps bin before you or someone else gets stabbed with it, not juggled up your sleeve or in your pocket or wherever you've just shoved it. In the infirmary, small yellow bucket at each bench."

Then a nod. "And yes, it's far more advanced than I have at home either. Sometimes I have to get it to work at a lower level just for familiarity's sake."

Glancing over at Gene. "What was the fight about?"

So the man had noticed. Gene shrinks down into his turned up jacket collar hiding like a child stuck with his hand in the cookie jar. There's a need to explain there but an embarassment that keeps him silent. Which is why he makes no comment or move to stand.

Licking his lips out of nerves he gives a very faint shrug of his shoulders. "Man came burstin' into th' bar sayin som'thin 'bout 'Ghosts in his lab' then started t' shoots people up with some green stuff."

Guppy nods, looking down at him.

"The accident and emergency doctor who doesn't notice such things is the one that gets hurt." he says simply. "You have nothing to fear from me, I won't tell. If you want or need help, I will gladly give it, but otherwise I'll mind my own business. And do the needle changes discreetly by bar if that works better. I would not have interfered at all if I wasn't concerned that you might accidentally collide with someone and the needle break their skin. I don't think you would want that either."

He nods. "I think I saw some of the green stuff, it seemed to be giving people a dreadful reaction."

And then..Gene actually talks about it. "It's th' only way t' make it stop hurtin.." Looking down at his hands he notices they are still shakeing- not as bad as before but enough to make it hard to do much of anything at the moment. "Jus' gots t' cover it long 'nough to makes it go 'way."

He could be talking about anything, really, and if Guppy were to ask he may tell.

"George gots a face full 'f it. Will too an' 'nother lady." Pauseing slightly Gene turns his dark eyes back up towards Guppy. "They catch th' two that were doin th' fightin?"

"I don't know if they were caught, sorry." Guppy says. "I've been in the infirmary all night."

More gently. "Morphine is a good painkiller, but it's also addictive. And it doesn't cure the problem, it just covers it up." He notes the shaking hands, but does not comment at this point.

"If you can tell me what hurts, maybe we can work out a way to stop or reduce the pain that will do you less harm in the long run, maybe even cure the problem."

"'s all we gots in my time." Laying a hand upon the pocket the syrette is at, Roe frowns. It's not something he likes doing and he has no intentions of becoming addicted to it..but never say never in a drugs case.

"Yous ever heard of a traiteurs?" he asks in that Cajun drawl of his.

"There are more treatments here. Whilst it probably wouldn't be sensible to put you on a medication you can't get in your world, that doesn't mean there's nothing we can do."

A head tilt. "As in traitors? People who betray?"

[ooc: the mun apologizes for vanishing like that, had to run something to her mom across town]

Gene just sighs, it's something hard to explain that not even medications can help.

"No..not som'thin like tha'." Shifting a littl where he sits he starts to rub at his arm without thinking- his left arm. "Traiteurs are Cajun faith healers...Wes takes th' pain from others an heal 'em."

Thus, why his hands are shaking and the use of morphine.

Guppy considers this for a moment.

"But you must feel the pain somewhere." he says after a moment. "Or morphine wouldn't do anything."

[ooc: Likewise, mun wasn't feeling well last night so didn't come online, sorry]

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guppy_sandhu - 2007-05-14 20:36 (UTC) - Expand

Hey, there's the other lady now. Sariel seems to have also felt a need to escape the main bar for the time being--call it post-brawl jitters, if you like.

She's out of uniform for the moment and sans communicator; sleeves loose and comfortable, skirt falling past her knees, and everything dyed a coral pink reminiscent of a Caribbean reef. And it seems the goo that splatted her so thoroughly yesterday has raised little red dots all over dark skin. Not fun.

She's drifting along the lake's shore, barefoot on still faintly chilly ground--maybe she's imagining it's sand? She hasn't noticed Roe yet, as her distracted gaze keeps flicking from water to sky and back.

If Sariel keeps moving she'll either step on Gene's legs or trip over him. That is if he doesn't move first. At hearing someone approaching the medic opens one eye closest to her slowly watching the blurry figure moving closer.

It takes a few seconds for him to actually move- sitting up and scooting backwards out of her way. "I see yous go' all tha' green stuff off?" he says slowly.

Luckily for both involved, the voice does draw Sariel's attention around to Gene in time to keep her from walking over or on him. A breath later she recognizes him; even in brawl chaos, that drawl was distinctive, and that's not counting the fact she'd been curious, after the worst of the shock and dismay at the brawl had faded, just who the other French speaker was. "Yes, the green goo came off with water, but it left these--" absent fingers twitch, scratching at red dots spotting the back of the opposite hand.

It's a very, very weak little smile that Gene manages. Holding out a hand to Sariel he feels fine enough thanks to the little syrette to keep going. He doesn't even pay attention to the fact it's still shakeing slightly. Something he may pay for later. "'s no problem. Wan' me t' take'a look?"

Dark eyes set in a to slender face look up at the starfleet officer.

And dark eyes in a pixie-ish face look down in mirror. "I'm alright. It should fade, it's just uncomfortable for now. Whatever that goo was--" this time her nose wrinkles in expression. Ick. "Thank you, though. I've been to the infirmary about it." Even though that thread is still going *cough*.

That hand is taken nonetheless, and the shakes merit a slight frown a second after. "I should ask if *you* are alright." If she was intending to introduce herself, she hasn't yet.

Eugene is a medic and a healer. The hives are given a close inspection though if she has already been to the infirmary no doubt the other blue-skined lady or Guppy have seen to her. Soon he releases her hand and climbs back to his feet letting the syrette slip back into a jacket pocket. "This? Ah..'s fine. Will go away soon."

He tries to offer up another weak little smile to cover the lie. "I'm Eugene Roe, Easy Company 506th. 1944."

She doesn't catch the lie for what it is--he's unfamiliar to her, and she's not exactly watching closely for falsehoods. "Ensign Sariel Rager, USS Enterprise, 2368." Her name isn't French; closer to British, if anything, and the where and when are given in English. "During that... madness--" there's a flickered glance over her shoulder toward the lake door and the bar beyond as she pauses, before continuing cautiously. "I heard you. Where are you from?"

2368. That makes Gene blink a few times before he gives a rather confused look. Eventually he'd become used to what Milliways could do, but right now? It's just making him perplexed.

Now when Sariel starts to speak in French this also makes him blink, that little smile becoming a little more solid.

That's not to say the 1944 part of what Gene said isn't a surprise for Sariel. It takes a second or two to process, though it's not the strangest of years people she's met have come from. "I... hadn't thought of that." It's not quite standard French she's speaking, more like a dialect of the same, though it's close enough to be understood. "Different languages are still spoken all over my world. I hadn't thought it might seem strange. Castries, Saint Lucia," she adds; that explains the dialect, at least.

No matter where or when, Gene is still impressed. His own Cajun French is hard to understand at times, but it's do-able and use-able. And surprisingly it's more calming to the medic..or maybe it's the morphine.

Stuffing his hands back into his pockets he fumbles around with the syrette in his pocket and also just remembering his sleeve. Casually he starts to roll it back down.

Ensign. The rank has to be Navy, at least that's what Gene thinks as he asks, buttoning his shirt sleeve before pulling his jacket down around it.

Sariel's own French patois isn't as precise as her English, for one, but it's still clear--usable, doable. Whatever works. From all indications, she's understanding Gene well enough. It's not often she gets to speak this language aboard ship, so it's likely she missed it. "I think it is, but I'm biased. I was born there. I grew up there too, with the exception of academy training. I've never been to Louisiana, but I've heard--"

The Navy question is what halts her. The assumption isn't what does it; she's gotten that before after mentioning her rank. It's the next bit - "I'm sorry, I don't know those terms. I serve aboard a starship." Heads up, in-coming futuristic bombshell! ... Not literally.

A...starship? This gets Sariel stared at for a good long minute or two before one dark eyebrow starts to very slowly raise. Gene will deal with that in a second. For now, he'll stick to what he knows.

Another moment of silence passes 'fore the medic carefully tilts his head to the side. " The only ship Gene knows are the two that took him a.)to England and b.) from Normandy back to England.