Who: Martha Jones, Ted Sprague, Tim Drake, Mano, Slade Wilson, Karrin Murphy, Jace Beleren, Tirion Fordring
Where: Private room of the infirmary
When: Various times today.
What: Physicals
Warnings: None.
(
When Martha Jones was upset, she did two things: she watched movies or she tossed herself into work. )
Comments 109
He showed up dressed in casual flannel, and when he saw Dr. Jones, he introduced himself as Ted Sprague, even holding out a hand to shake, ever the gentleman.
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"Nice to meet you, Ted, I'm Martha. Would you mind coming with me please? I promise to make this as quick and easy as possible." And she would really, especially considering the scanner that she had tucked within her pocket.
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So around five, he walked into the infirmary, hands in his pockets. When he spotted Martha, he lifted one to wave awkwardly, before stuffing it back into his pocket.
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At the awkward wave, Martha made one of her own before she gestured to the small, private room that they were using for exams and headed over there, as soon as they were both inside, Martha fixed Tim with one of her patented 'the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth' look. "So, Tim, what aren't you telling me?"
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This was why he didn't go for physicals.
"I've been in a few car accidents. They just...left a bunch of scars. I don't really like showing them off."
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Quickly, she went over and put her hands on his shoulders. "Don't worry, love, I'm not going to judge you for your scars." 'However you got them', she added mentally, giving his shoulders a squeeze.
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"You actually allow treatment of the genetically defective?" he asked. "You must have gotten some extremely good terms on your rations..."
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She ushered him toward the private room quickly, still frowning.
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"Medical care is rationed; those who prove themselves valuable to the Empire get more, the common citizen gets less. Usually the genetically defective do not get care, but the military allowed me some exception since I proved to be such a powerful weapon." Mano was as matter-of-fact about this as if he'd been discussing the weather.
"Then McCauley..." There was a flare of disgust as Mano spat out that name, "He was allowed to torture me for the next two sunturns." He shook his head. "Years, I should say. And from there I was locked in Takron-Galtos... again, without trial. But my being there automatically stripped me of all basic sentient rights -- and medical care was one of those rights, of course."
"And then, the guards killed me." Mano concluded. "And here I am."
(OOC: PMing the medical info next, but the above should warn you that he's a real mess.)
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Quickly she stepped close to him, and she put one hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Mano, we're not going to treat you any differently here. Here you deserve the same attention and respect that everyone else gets, yeah?" Her voice was soft but her tone was fierce because she meant it and wanted him to believe that she had meant it as well. This whole thing made her wish that she had a TARDIS of her own so that she could go and make certain to set things right in order so that those bastards couldn't do anything else like that again.
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He'd managed to patch his ribs himself (God knew he'd watched Wintergreen do it enough), but now was about the time he actually missed his healing factor. If he had his way, he wouldn't have bothered with the physical at all, but since his warden was insisting he get medical treatment, he might as well kill two birds with one stone.
"Doctor."
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When he called her 'doctor', Martha smiled to him quickly, and she extended her hand in his direction. "Just Martha, please. We've so many Doctors about here that it's easier just to be a first name." The smile deepened to a grin for a moment before she gestured toward the small, private examination room that she had been using to conduct these sorts of physicals. It just made more sense to do so.
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"I bet." Then, by way of introduction: "Slade Wilson."
He followed her into the examination room after that, not exactly pleased even though he understood the necessity of it. Or rather, the mandate. He'd never liked doctors very much, regardless of their intentions, but he would be civil throughout the exam.
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"Can I ask what you did to your ribs?" Martha asked quickly, once the door was shut behind her, ensuring their privacy. She looked to him quickly, studying him but with a calm and polite smile.
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He was curious about what this would entail, he'd never heard of a healer that needed to examine someone while they were well. "Good evening."
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Gesturing toward the small, private waiting room, Martha quickly started to lead the way.
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"Do people get physicals regularly where you're from?"
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