As usual, Rex tries to sit alone. It doesn't often work out, since there are only so many tables. These days, he doesn't mind company as much as he used to... but he still prefers eating alone. It's a habit leftover from when he was living with his ventilator and eating was a complicated, prolonged ordeal and people were way too curious about his hideously disfigured face.
That and he still doesn't really like people all that much.
Rex is in the middle of peeling a banana when Ariadne sits down, uninvited, across from him. He just stares at her from behind his fruit.
"Hello...?" His brow's arched in slight confusion. "Is Arthur's table full?" Oh wait, that's right. Arthur was always too cool for lunch with the masses.
Thanks to Admiral Flagg and all of the insanity surrounding that, Rex has fallen behind on his laundry. So, right now, he's got a load of bedsheets and other stuff in one machine, and he's currently stuffing a lot of black clothing into another. In his haste, he may have dropped his super cool Cobra Commander hood on the floor without noticing it.
Re: LAUNDRY DAY!consultcriminalNovember 8 2011, 02:14:16 UTC
Jim hated laundry day. Not only because he had never done his own laundry in his life. Not even because he hated carting his clothes around like some kind of common...person. But mostly because his suits are dry clean only. So laundry day is a depressing reminder that he really could look a lot better if someone would take his clothes to be cleaned.
Ah well.
He walked inside and gave the hood a disdainful look before he kicked it towards Rex.
Re: LAUNDRY DAY!stopthat_destroNovember 8 2011, 02:18:03 UTC
"Hm?" He looked over his shoulder at the hood on the ground-- damn it! That was his... slightly secret uniform. Rex snatched it up quickly and threw it into the wash, hoping Jim didn't see what it actually was. "You don't have to kick it," he snapped, pouring some detergent in.
If you need a nurse, Rex is your man. Although he's feeling more and more resentful of being relegated to infirmary duty every time there's a crisis going on, so his bedside manner may be even more prickly than usual today. He's taking to his job with all the enthusiasm of a teenager working at a convenience store.
/eats your cr :xdoesnttrusttechNovember 8 2011, 01:38:47 UTC
Bones, being a prickly bastard himself despite actually loving his job and not totally hating working in the infirmary (he still wanted his sickbay where the only person he really had to answer to was Jim or maybe Spock), didn't actually seem to care about Rex's sulky attitude, and entered the infirmary without actually commenting on it.
YOU ARE THE CR GOBLINstopthat_destroNovember 8 2011, 01:47:12 UTC
Rex glanced up from the supplies he was putting away. "Dr. McCoy." Any strangeness he might have felt over McCoy's reappearance-- complete with Barge amnesia, of course-- had passed by now. He simply separated this man from the one he'd known, considered them different people. A fresh start. "It looks like the injured and dead have begun trickling out."
only a little :cdoesnttrusttechNovember 8 2011, 03:12:03 UTC
Which was one of the reasons McCoy didn't actually mind talking to Rex. People being weird about him being here before just made him more abrasive than he usually was, largely because he wasn't sure how he was supposed to handle the knowledge that apparently he'd lived a whole other life here before, and he couldn't remember any of it.
"Good. Assuming they got cleared, anyway. I'm not really looking forward to hunting down a bunch of idiots with torn stitches who wanna pretend they're fine."
"It's not a reflection on your performance," Stildyne said mildly. "It's good practice. And you're going to feel it in your neck tomorrow if you don't straighten out your form."
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That and he still doesn't really like people all that much.
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It kind of makes Ariadne think of a runty little puppy, shoved away by his bigger, stronger siblings.
Which means that she's sitting down across from him at the table with her lunch and a friendly smile. "Hey, Rex. How's it going?"
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"Hello...?" His brow's arched in slight confusion. "Is Arthur's table full?" Oh wait, that's right. Arthur was always too cool for lunch with the masses.
God, Rex hates him.
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She tries to talk with different people every day. The more people you know, the better.
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Ah well.
He walked inside and gave the hood a disdainful look before he kicked it towards Rex.
"I believe you've forgotten something."
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This was not what he wanted to spend his time doing. Maybe he could find someone to do his laundry for him. Now wouldn't that be nice.
"Oh, you're right. However, bending down to reach for it was just not what I was willing to do for you."
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"Dr. Lewis."
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"Good. Assuming they got cleared, anyway. I'm not really looking forward to hunting down a bunch of idiots with torn stitches who wanna pretend they're fine."
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It's not going very well. The bar may be besting his attempts at bench pressing.
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"Spotter?" he offered.
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"Huh?"
And with that distraction came a wobble in the bar, and Rex let out a yelp and struggled to keep it balanced.
"I'm fine!" He wasn't.
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