Filtered to York
Coming by the TARDIS for repairs. Have some biofoam ready. Raiden should have no problem against The Meta. [Yes, she sounds a little bit pissed.]
/Filter
[Dictated, the journal held awkwardly open with her left hand as she makes her way to the TARDIS for more repairs after sparring with Raiden. She had a couple things she needed
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[Not wasting words here, just getting the kit ready at the console room.]
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I know. I tried. [If just out of principal; Five made her a companion after the expedition, so she has her own key too.]
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Tell me about it. Only place I actually need a key to get into.
[He'll be waiting for her!]
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Parts are on your desk.
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Let me patch that up first. Don't want any more blood clogging your circuits than we absolutely need.
[He holds out a biofoam container--sorry, this is going to sting.]
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[She offers her left arm, turning it slightly so that York has a good angle to insert the nozzle into the injection port on the inner-elbow portion of her suit.]
[And she's been on the recieving end of biofoam more times than she can count. Doesn't mean it doesn't sting like hell, but she takes it with just a sharp intake of breath.]
Have you met Raiden yet?
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Talked to him over the journal about my little Meta problem, yeah. He seemed pretty confident he could deal with it, said he owed you a favor.
--I, uh, hope you don't mind getting him involved.
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I think he's pretty set on getting himself involved regardless. I'm just glad he seems to be able to handle it. [If taking out her shields like that is any indication ...]
He arrived rather separate from his arms. I just helped reunite them.
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Right, because that's easy. Then again, you do have experience with prostheses, so I guess he's lucky you answered the call.
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I figured there probably weren't a lot of us here familiar enough with advanced technology to even know what cybernetics were, let alone how to handle them. [Also it was a time to secretly gasm over new tech]
I did also give him your name in case he had any other trouble with it and I wasn't around.
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Anyway, she should be all patched up now. He nods for her to follow him to his room where he has the tools to work on her other arm.]
Yeah, D should be able to figure it out if I can't. So what happened here?
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Sparring. I wasn't about to let him go up against that thing unchecked.
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[There, come into his nice cluttered room with all his memoriabilia. The only good thing about being trapped in the TARDIS while the Meta was loose? It's where all his cools tuff is. There's even a little acorn-pot with a tiny sprout in it.]
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He'll be fine.
[She still enjoys York's cluttered workspace; there's so much to poke through, and she looks down at his little sprout with an amused sound.] I see you've got more a green thumb than me. Yours is twice as big.
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