Under Contract ((for elwoodsingblues

[in_the_cracks]

Weeks into deep space (from a human perspective), Telrim doesn’t have her usual locations to work from. Instead she’s hanging around in one of the lesser-used storage bays of Visser Twenty-eight’s ship, using the lone computer console to catch up on some work. Actually, she’s trying to decide how to word ‘injuries sustained from pilot's digestive

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[elwoodsingblues]

Elwood is from an era of vinyl record players, cassette tapes, rotary-dial telephones and mullets. As such, he finds the PINpoint machine very worrying right from the offset. Still, after glaring at it suspiciously for a while he decides it’s worth a shot. It must be. And if it doesn’t work-which part of him is expecting-well, he hasn’t really [i]lost[/i] anything.

The initial disbelief is probably something to do with just how disorientated he feels upon arriving with a subdued flash in the storage bay, stumbling slightly with how startled he is. To his eyes the place is outlandish and rather creepy but he doesn’t forget his manners and tips his hat to Telrim-or Natasha Stanton, as he knows her. He was raised by nuns, after all.

“Ma’am,” he says a little blearily by way of greeting, and decides to leave it at that. He’s still blinking a little behind his sunglasses.

[in_the_cracks]

Telrim looks around with a brief, pleased smile at his arrival. "Ah, hello. It's good to see you, Mr. Blues." She shuts off the console's glowing display and gestures to the human chair. "Have a seat for a moment, would you?"

[elwoodsingblues]

He doesn't return the smile-- he's too busy openly gawking at the place.

"Sure..." He nods vaguely and slouches into the seat, folding his arms, still beaking around. As always, he has his briefcase with him: he stuffs the PINpoint machine into it after a pause.

[in_the_cracks]

Telrim's eyes flick over the briefcase momentarily without her expression changing, a tactical observation. She glances around and then shrugs at him. "Not really an office, I know. We really could use more funding."

She moves over to the door and the keypad beside it. A little beep and a shift of lights indicates it's locked - not locked down, as against a firefight, but anyone overriding it to get in will know they're not supposed to. Elwood and her host are the only two humans on the ship, and she doesn't want him bolting back to the Nexus too soon.

[elwoodsingblues]

With a slight purse of the lips, Elwood watches her doing... whatever it is she's doing to the keypad. The closest to that sort of thing he's ever seen has been in sci-fi movies-- seventies sci-fi movies, no less. It's no wonder he's feeling a little out of his depth.

He tries to cover up his speechlessness with a short clearing of the throat. "Looks fine to me," he mutters, glancing around the place yet again. "But, uh, I guess we'd have different standards for that sorta thing." As far as Elwood's concerned, having a computer means you've got it pretty plush.

[in_the_cracks]

Telrim looks back at him again, studying his expression. Actually, her gaze hasn't strayed far from him for more than a second or two at a time. "Well, windows would be nice. But it could be far worse, it's true."

She goes back and picks up a small case from beside the console. It's made of green-coloured metal, with a single, simple symbol on the front in reflective silver. "Now, just one thing before we get started..."

[elwoodsingblues]

A windowless life is one that Elwood is well accustomed to. He deliberately doesn't meet her gaze aside from every now and again; he's not so big on eye contact. It's one of the traits that gets him pegged very quickly as a rather shifty type, though it's not strictly true.

"Oh?" His gaze moves over to her now though, sticking to the small case with bemusement and curiosity. His head tilts slightly. "What's that?"

[in_the_cracks]

Avoiding eye contact is nearly always a sign of fear or deference from a Yeerk, and usually both together.

"A medical kit." She sets it on the table and opens it up. Inside are tools from the recognisable to the futuristic, like a partly-used roll of emergency dressing, a handheld medical scanner and a short, rounded metal rod with a series of small cylinders next to it. "Did you say you'd been out of the country before?"

[elwoodsingblues]

His eyebrows rise as he gazes down at the medical kit. Not only at the apperance of the stranger implements but at the apparent irrelevance. Through his dark glasses, Elwood's gaze snaps up towards her face for a moment.

"I didn't, but I have been. Once," he says. He's more curious than anything else; like a fascinated bird... but he's looking a little wary. "Why?"

[in_the_cracks]

"Depending on where you travel, you're sometimes advised to get shots beforehand, against local diseases." She picks up the stubby rod and checks the markings on the cylinders before she chooses one. "That's all this is for. It pays to be careful, after all."

[elwoodsingblues]

He's heard of the practise, though Canada apparently isn't exotic enough to merit such treatment. He watches her picking out the cylinder impassively; Elwood, as though it isn't obvious enough, isn't the kind who goes to hospitals. Not unless death is imminent.

"Where're we going, exactly?" he asks. Then, rather more childishly: "Will it hurt?"

[in_the_cracks]

"Where did you have in mind?" She chuckles. "Seriously, though, you're already in another universe. The last thing we want is for you to pick up a bug they don't have in your world."

Telrim connects cylindrical vial to rod and makes a few adjustments to the movable bands on the latter. "And no, it shouldn't hurt at all. We haven't used needles for a long time."

As one might expect, the Yeerk is lying: the first vial is a local anaesthetic, the dosage dialed down to almost nothing, enough to numb the area around it a bit, and quick to wear off. The talk of immunisation is merely a pretext to keep him still while she prods him with cold damp things and keep him from looking at what they are.

[elwoodsingblues]

Elwood considers asking how it works if it doesn't use needles but decides it would be quite a pointless exercise. He has a feeling he wouldn't get it at all. Still watching the rod curiously, he unconsciously rubs at his arm.

"Well, 'long as I get a lollypop afterwards," he says weakly. It's hardly the situation for stupid jokes but he's not that sure what else to say. There's a bit of a pause as he drops his gaze to the tattoos on his knuckles. "Uh, where's that thing going, anyway?"

[in_the_cracks]

A very prudent question. The Controller's mouth twists in genuine amusement.

"Just the side of your neck, behind your jaw," she says, adopting as reassuring a tone as she knows. She retrieves an antiseptic pad from the case. It's kind of big for what she has in mind: she tears off a piece automatically, not about to waste what someone might desperately need later.

Telrim moves to his side, saying, "Now, if you'll just tilt your head for me..." even as she reaches out to guide that motion with her free hand.

[elwoodsingblues]

Elwood is accepting of this, of course, but he still has a bit of a surly look on his face-- like a schoolchild being made to eat vegetables. That's probably why he doesn't say anything either, just tips his head as instructed, eyes already wandering around the storage room, distracting himself quite easily.

A warning for Telrim: the last time Elwood came even remotely close to washing behind his ears was probably when being tackled to the floor by nuns at the orphanage...

[in_the_cracks]

Her nose twitches - this one could probably use a decontamination cycle, but she suspects that would just draw attention where they're going. For her part, Telrim's grip is just a bit firmer than it needs to be. She's used to people who scream and struggle and jerk whether she's trying to patch up their injuries or help infest them, and that translates to a touch that is more command than guide.

Elwood will feel the damp cold of the makeshift swab, followed swiftly by a hard, blunt pressure as the anaesthetic's delivered.

"First one down," she says, briskly swapping out the vials and wiping off the injection end. She shoots him a smile that flickers as she notes his expression. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"