sᴀᴍᴇᴇɴ sʜᴀᴡ ( ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴏғ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛ ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
disturbed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenace2015-04-17 12:00 am
disturbed) wrote in maskormenace2015-04-17 12:00 am
001. an exercise in justified paranoia.
( This post is done anonymously, from Shaw's own device - all replies will be made from another device, if your character is tech savvy enough to notice something like that.
After making this post, she leaves her device down in an alleyway, hidden so that whoever might try to track the device that the post comes from won't be lead straight to her. The second device being used for replies was pickpocketed from Ramir. Sorry - no hard feelings. She just needs to cover her bases.
This level of bullshit is infuriating. She kind of misses the days of being assigned a target and eliminating the threat. Things get complicated when you start saving people.
Harold told her once that there were times for scalpels and hammers, and she's not sure her usual method is going to go down well here. Not when the only comms device she has right now is government issued and God only know what kind of surveillance and monitoring they have on these things. What she wants to do is find her team, so it's time to do a little fishing and see just what kind of response she gets. Government agents, Samaritan agents, actual Samaritans, or the people who matter. )
Medical supplies required. Duct tape and whisky aren't going to cut it this time.
Antisepsis, dry dressing, antibiotics. Blood, any type.
Ballistic trauma and fractured ribs with increasing risk of shock. Located in downtown De Chima.
Victim is suffering from paranoia and is extremely volatile, make contact for drop details.
( She was the patient, but she's turned up here with only the fractured ribs to show for it. Still, she knows some people who would be keeping an eye out for such a patient and some of them she would very much prefer to see before they see her, especially if they are the types who could turn up by tracing a post made from this device. And maybe shoot them. )
They claim some equipment was stolen from them:
Heizer Defense Doubletap 9mm
SIG-Sauer p226r
Glock 17
HawkPF26W2
( Nothing says friendship like knowing your team's piece of choice. Harold wouldn't know a decent gun if she pistol whipped him with it, but she tried to think of something he'd like the name of. Now she's going to stay in her spot with her three hot dogs and her hand gun, and see who turns up unannounced. And maybe use the poor schmuck's device try to learn a thing or two from the network and keep tabs on replies, whatever. )
After making this post, she leaves her device down in an alleyway, hidden so that whoever might try to track the device that the post comes from won't be lead straight to her. The second device being used for replies was pickpocketed from Ramir. Sorry - no hard feelings. She just needs to cover her bases.
This level of bullshit is infuriating. She kind of misses the days of being assigned a target and eliminating the threat. Things get complicated when you start saving people.
Harold told her once that there were times for scalpels and hammers, and she's not sure her usual method is going to go down well here. Not when the only comms device she has right now is government issued and God only know what kind of surveillance and monitoring they have on these things. What she wants to do is find her team, so it's time to do a little fishing and see just what kind of response she gets. Government agents, Samaritan agents, actual Samaritans, or the people who matter. )
Medical supplies required. Duct tape and whisky aren't going to cut it this time.
Antisepsis, dry dressing, antibiotics. Blood, any type.
Ballistic trauma and fractured ribs with increasing risk of shock. Located in downtown De Chima.
Victim is suffering from paranoia and is extremely volatile, make contact for drop details.
( She was the patient, but she's turned up here with only the fractured ribs to show for it. Still, she knows some people who would be keeping an eye out for such a patient and some of them she would very much prefer to see before they see her, especially if they are the types who could turn up by tracing a post made from this device. And maybe shoot them. )
They claim some equipment was stolen from them:
Heizer Defense Doubletap 9mm
SIG-Sauer p226r
Glock 17
HawkPF26W2
( Nothing says friendship like knowing your team's piece of choice. Harold wouldn't know a decent gun if she pistol whipped him with it, but she tried to think of something he'd like the name of. Now she's going to stay in her spot with her three hot dogs and her hand gun, and see who turns up unannounced. And maybe use the poor schmuck's device try to learn a thing or two from the network and keep tabs on replies, whatever. )
no subject
It's almost palpable, beating through her veins with her blood.]
And you're a hopeless pessimist. Though I wouldn't call this optimism so much as knowing how impossible it is to kill you.
Speaking of which...
[She lifts the bag she brought with her - a makeshift first aid kit with various tools and supplies.]
I know I'm not quite as good as you at this kind of thing, but I'm sure you can give me an idea.
no subject
( She's also still an ass. Lapsing into silence, Shaw just watches with a quirked eyebrow as Root draws out the kit. )
"Quite," huh? ( Maybe Root started Med School when she wasn't paying attention. The little joke still gets a little twinge at the corners of her mouth, a not-smile as she crouches down and takes another bite of hot dog. ) You planning on playing doctor, or something? I'm used to self medicating.
( In so many ways. )
no subject
[She tilts her head, smirking in a teasing, familiar way as she looks at Sameen's face, then hands the bag over to her.]
Oh, I know how good you are at self-medicating, Sameen.
[It's fond, incredibly so, her voice warm and pleased.]
But I thought maybe you could use a hand.
no subject
( As if that's a problem, when in reality there's a quiet note of smugness in with her usual flat delivery. That teasing smirk, though, just means that Shaw grabs the handle of the bag, jerking it just a little too hard and too soon to snatch it from Root.
What a pain in the ass. Useful, but a huge pain in the ass.
Shaw finishes off her hotdog, and takes a seat on the floor, opening the bag to inspect it. She has a second bag that some superhero with a cape - seriously - dropped off earlier, but she's waiting until dark to go and collect that. )
There's not a lot we can do for the ribs, except painkillers. The blood loss, though-- ( Excuse her, she's fishing out what she needs for a transfusion. )
You read the files they give us? ( It's not even a question, really, she knows the answer. )
cw: needles
No need to be mean, Sameen.
[But when Sameen settles on the floor, Root goes down with her, eyes flicking up and down the length of her again. They're all so sturdy, or at least they act like it, never showing their pain or fear, it's easy to forget how injured the other woman is. Root scoots in closer as Shaw starts pulling out the transfusion kit, and without a word, starts rolling up her sleeve to expose the soft skin at the inside of her elbow, where the veins run close to the surface.]
I read my own. And John's. They know everything.
[Her mouth tightens a little as she presses her thumb into her inner arm above the elbow and bends her arms a few times to make the veins clearer.]
no subject
It'd be a lie to say that Sameen wasn't in pain - fractured ribs are a bitch - but she's busying herself with getting out the wipe and tearing it out of its packing, rubbing it over the impending needing sight. Gotta love the smell of sterilising alcohol. )
Have you left the country in the last six months? ( A glance to Root, a I wonder. )
Ever had unprotected sex? Ever had hepatitis, malaria, chagas disease? ( She knows Root cares about her enough to not screw her over deliberately, but she's gotta ask the questions. It'd be stupid not to.
She doesn't falter with the revelation, keeps going, brow furrowed like she's concentrating on the task at hand and not troubled by what Root said. Let's face it, though - she has too much medical experience for this to require much concentration, as she holds the tube and needle in her hand and glances up at Root. )
Bear's here? ( She means John's here?, but let's accept her priorities. )
no subject
Yes. I have.
[The little smirk falls away, though, as the other questions pour in. Well. The diseases are one thing, but the unprotected sex...
She bites her lower lip.]
No diseases.
[She glances down as Sameen starts pulling out the needle and tube, and continues tapping at her arm, almost morosely, avoiding eye contact.]
Bear's been staying with me. I haven't seen John or Harry in a while, but I'm sure they're around.
no subject
I really don't care who you sleep with, Root, I just need to know your blood's clean.
( It's good to know they're here - or were? Root's words are ambiguous, but Shaw just watches for a second before knocking Root's hand away and slipping the needle in. End of the day: Root's sensible, apart from being a total psych case, and she cares about Shaw, even if she's a pain in the ass. She'll take her blood. )
Fusco?
no subject
It's clean. I wouldn't offer it to you if it wasn't.
[She doesn't even flinch as Sameen pushes the needle into her arm, despite the slight sting, just watches as the blood starts pumping, eyes locked on the clear tube and the bright red surging through it.]
No, not Fusco. Such a shame.
no subject
( Otherwise that'd be a very, very colourful conversation. Sameen wipes down her own skin and easily slips the needle in on her own side. )
Doesn't mean I'm not gonna say it's stupid. ( The unprotected sex, she means. She's not talking about it from an emotional perspective, because she really doesn't care. It doesn't bother her and it doesn't matter to her. But from a practical perspective, the fact that Root it someone she works with? She'd rather not see her get anything from sheer carelessness. )
His super power'd be affording a wardrobe of decently tailored suits.
( She loves him, really. )
no subject
She keeps her head down and watches the blood pump into the tube and then into Sameen, and she relishes the slight dizziness that comes with its loss.]
I know. But I was in kind of a stupid mood. It happens sometimes, even to me. Don't worry, it won't happen again. No need to be jealous.
[It's a weak joke, and she glances up at Sameen at that last comment - finally, it drags a soft laugh from her.]
As if he'd know a decently tailored suit if it bit him.
no subject
She's wondering if telling Root that she was hot and good with a gun was a bad decision, given the way it all played out. Kissing her was probably stupid, too, but Shaw had been pretty certain she'd be too dead to deal with any consequences for that one. Then again, she's been reading up on this place, watching the network, and there's some interesting comments about timelines. Rather than dignify Root's comments with a rebuttal, she turns heel on the topic: )
What's the last thing you remember, anyway?
( Time is messed up, here, and there are clues in what Root's said so far, but Shaw prefers certainty. )
I dunno. I've seen the man scrub up okay. I mean, we had to pay someone to dress him, and it was like seeing a dog with a pair of socks on.
( Y'know, the awkward, pathetic way they pick their feet up and look confused? Whatever. )
no subject
And if Sameen thinks that a one or two-time thing is going to make her forget about that kiss, about the things Sameen had said...she's got another thing coming. But right now isn't the time to push, even Root can see that. They've got bigger fish to fry - that can come later.
So she doesn't push it. Not quite yet.]
How much I tell you depends on the last thing you remember. I wouldn't want to spoil everything, now, would I?
[She offers a wan smile. The truth is, she doesn't want to deal with Sameen knowing what happened if the other woman doesn't know yet. The comment about Lionel distracts her, though, and she laughs.]
If only I had a video. It's a shame I can't contact The Machine.
no subject
The last thing I remember is that Samaritan bitch looking down at me.
( Slowly, carefully sounding it out, hand dropping to her shirt to hitch it up a little, showing the scars and the bruising, as she leans in closer to watch Root intently. ) Couple of my souvenirs are missing, though.
( The bullets, obviously. Instead the injury looks like it's been healing a lot longer than the few hours she's been here, that's for sure. )
no subject
It's not enough. Never enough for that.
And part of her is angry, she can't deny that. Angry at Sameen for all of it, for saying there could be a chance, kissing her, and then getting herself shot, and disappearing. Just exiting Root's life like far too many other people had done. Her heart is beating too hard, and she lowers her head more, letting her hair hide how her eyes sting with tears, her teeth working her lower lip to try and distract herself from the emotional with something physical.]
And the last thing I remember is following any lead, every lead, tearing apart New York State...to find you.
no subject
( Root's too stubborn to give up. Shaw sighs, shakes her head, and grabs a cotton ball so she can draw the needle from Root's arm and press the cotton over the needle site instead. Once it's pressed there she keeps it held firm with one hand, grabbing Root's opposite hand to pull it over to hold the cotton down instead. With all that done, she draws the needle from her own arm. )
Cute idea, Root. I don't know how good my odds are gonna be.
( What exactly is she trying to do, here? She's not sure. ) Hell, I don't even know if I think this is real or some pre-death hallucination.
no subject
There's no humour in it, and very little warmth.]
They're good enough, Sameen. Good enough for me. John too.
[She holds the other woman's gaze for a few long moments.]
And you're not dead, or dying. That's final.
no subject
( Just going to let that sink in. Eventually, with a roll of her eyes, she shakes her head. )
If you say so.
( She's not sure she's in the mood for Root's brand of bullshit, right now. She hasn't bothered with the cotton wool for her own arm, just grabbing some tape to keep Root's in place. )
So. What do you do for fun around here?