Engineer | Dell Conagher (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spah) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rackofbadcds2018-03-22 10:41 am
spah) wrote in rackofbadcds2018-03-22 10:41 am
Entry tags:
UNITED, WE CAN FIGHT THE METAL MENACE
A robot army is invading Mann Co., a multinational company known for weapons, munitions, and hats. If you didn't know, they own 306 plants, office buildings, warehouses, and outlet malls in New Mexico alone. You may or may not work for them. One way or another, Saxton Hale, CEO and incredibly shirtless Australian man, has hired (or re-hired) you to defend his facilities worldwide from the robot invasion.
The robots were made by Gray Mann, owner of Gray Gravel Co. (headquartered on an island, made of spiky rock formations and gravel) and set on taking Mann Co. from Hale via, you know, robots. He them made himself, and vaguely resemble nine mercenaries infamous in New Mexico.
For your information and viewing, Hale has sent a tape explaining the situation. Simultaneously, he's wrestling a yeti. Between punching, blood, and some on-and-off asides from the cameraman, the jist of the speech goes like this:
"LISTEN UP, MERCS!
THE ROBOTS ARE COMING!
I won't smooch backsides on this either. These things are bigger than you. They're stronger than you. In fact, now that I'm saying it out loud, they're better than you at just about everything.
"MERCS! Your jobs died with the Mann brothers. You hear me? As of now, you are all unemployed! Also, straight plan talk here: Nobody's ever going to hire a non-metal man again with these robots around! I've seen them. They are spectacular.
Now for the good news! You're all re-hired! Grab a pen, here's your new job description: KILL ROBOTS!
NOW GET OUT THERE AND KICK SOME CAN!
I'd help, but as you can see, I will be fighting a yeti for nine more hours. MAKE ME PROUD, BOYS!"
For reasons the woman who gave you the tape can't comprehend or explain, the robots run on piles of money. Destroy them, and whatever falls out is yours. Get to Mann Co. immediately.THE ROBOTS ARE COMING!
I won't smooch backsides on this either. These things are bigger than you. They're stronger than you. In fact, now that I'm saying it out loud, they're better than you at just about everything.
"MERCS! Your jobs died with the Mann brothers. You hear me? As of now, you are all unemployed! Also, straight plan talk here: Nobody's ever going to hire a non-metal man again with these robots around! I've seen them. They are spectacular.
Now for the good news! You're all re-hired! Grab a pen, here's your new job description: KILL ROBOTS!
NOW GET OUT THERE AND KICK SOME CAN!
I'd help, but as you can see, I will be fighting a yeti for nine more hours. MAKE ME PROUD, BOYS!"
✘ Mann vs. Machine is a co-op mode from the video game Team Fortress 2. In MvM, you and others fight off waves of killer robots set on delivering an enormous bomb to your base. Familiarity with TF2 isn't necessary! Though MvM has game-specific facets, feel free to treat this is a good 'ol-fashioned robot army fighting meme. You know. Those ones.
HOW TO PLAY:
- Comment with your character and write a threadstarter
- Respond to other threadstarters
- Play and have fun! Three-way (or more) threads are encouraged, so feel free to do anything.
- Seriously, this is meant to be loose and fun. Go nuts!
- Comment with your character and write a threadstarter
- Respond to other threadstarters
- Play and have fun! Three-way (or more) threads are encouraged, so feel free to do anything.
- Seriously, this is meant to be loose and fun. Go nuts!
no subject
[Ha.
Ha ha ha....
Oh Engie you just opened up a big ol can of worms.
Medic pauses, only for the briefest of moments, before tossing another pill bottle over his shoulder in Engie's direction. Here Dell, have a distraction.]
We were never so unambitious as that, no.
[It's hard to tell if this is a touchy subject, or if Medic just doesn't know how to talk about personal affairs. Considering how backwards his social skills can be, it could really be either or.]
B.
[Medic doesn't bother to wait for Engie to step out from behind his desk before waltzing right on over and taking hold of him by the shoulder-strap.]
Come with me and I'll show you.
[He gives the strap a tug, silently prompting Engie to just roll with this and not ask questions. From an outside perspective, it looks not unlike an impatient owner tugging on their dog's lead, but a more accurate comparison would be an excited child dragging their reluctant parent over to the next exhibit at the zoo.]
no subject
[Dell wasn't the type to pry. Hell, after all this, he'll spend six months with a woman whose motives he'll still be damned to know. That's just small-town polite.
Ludwig, though... he's known the man for years now, and it's STILL hard to tell when things were touchy or just complicated. Doesn't hurt to ask, though.
He catches the pill bottle anyway and looks it over. Oh, grape-flavored. Pyro liked those.]
Guessin' it was more like... well, what you do now.
[Bloodier? Organ-ier? How do you summarize it all? "Mad scientist," probably, but Engie opts to keep that thought to himself.]
B.
Wh--
[Nevermind. They're going. Engineer's eyes narrow through his goggles, but he lets himself get dragged anyway. This is happening.]
Doc... if you try killin' me to bring me back to life or somethin', I'm gonna clock you out. Just sayin' that now.
no subject
Mmm.
[That's a polite way to phrase things. He'll give Engie points for trying.]
Physicians by trade, innovators by nature.
[He finally stops pretending to search the shelves for anything salvageable and turns to face Engie properly. He leans back against the display case beside him, his hands coming to rest on the edge of the counter. The casualness of the gesture is only a little forced.]
Unfortunately, we've always been a bit...ahead of the times.
[That's a nice way of saying their freaky deaky medical revolutions tended to scare the ever-living piss out of the general populous.]
B.
[Alright, Medic has to laugh at that - not because it's an entirely fair assumption to make, but because it's not far from the truth. Engie just has the roles reversed.]
Aheheh, no, no. Don't be ridiculous. I want you to see the process firsthand, not experience it.
At least not now. Your turn will come later.
[Well Gee Medic that's not disconcerting at all.]
no subject
[He tried. Engie puts both hands on the strap of his bag.]
You and family, huh. [He's guessing from the "we" language here.]
B.
[GREAT
GREAT
GREAT]
Great.
no subject
[Medic shrugs, which is the universal sign for 'yes, but like, I wan't to be ambiguous about it.']
Ja. We've been this way for generations. It's in our blood.
[He pauses, realizing that might be a bit misleading, and clarifies.]
I mean that literally, by the way. It's not just a cute metaphor for nature over nurture.
B
[Medic is totally undeterred by Engie's lack of enthusiasm - assuming he even notices it. He's too busy throwing open the door of his makeshift infirmary and dragging Engie through the threshold in an excited flurry of movement to really pay too much attention to the nuances of his tone. (Not that there was really anything subtle about it in the first place, but still.)]
[The first thing Engineer will notice once Medic lets him go and steps out from in front of him is that the place is a mess. Not in the traditional sense that nothing is put away where it should be - it's actually quite well organized despite being put together on short notice - but in the sense that there sure is a whole lot of blood on the floor.]
[Like, wow. It. It really cannot be overstated how much this place looks like a re-purposed slaughterhouse. Not that medic seems to mind - he looks for all the world like a kid in a candy store.]
[Once he lets go of Engie, he makes a b-line straight for his work bench, upon which sits various notes, schematics, instruments - and most importantly of all, a box. A long, metal box with an eerie yellow light glowing from inside its center.]
[Rather than pick it up by the handle, Medic takes hold of it with both hands - carefully, almost reverently - and holds it out for Engie to see.]
Would you like to know what it does?
[He asks, as though that weren't the entire reason Engie allowed himself to be dragged here in the first place.
quick tags before I run to work yeahyeahyeah
... Uh, I guess I'm askin' "what is," then.
[What's in his blood, he means. Engineer was a naturally curious person, but sometimes you just regret knowing some things.] He could relate to the generational thing a little not. Not the blood or the pharmacy or being driven out of your hometown part, but, you know. Family tradition.]
So you and mom and pop or whoever else was here, then. [He's guessing.] So what happened?
B.
[Oh boy. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh boy.
Once Medic finally legs go, Engineer slips his hands into his overalls and gives a low whistle.
... He'd be lying if he didn't want to know, horror movie vibes aside.]
Guess I'm gonna.
yeahyeahyeah yeaaaaah
Ehh...
[See this is the part where things get awkward. Not because it's some big secret, but because truncating the story down to a less tiresome length is going to be hard. Some important bits might get left out.]
It's something of a tradition, really. A right of passage, you might say. Every generation has their own story.
[He spreads his hands, gesturing to the room around them as though those very stories were written into the walls.]
Ours began with a breakthrough in gene-splicing which made cross-species organ transplants possible, and ended with an angry mob running us out of town for daring to toil in God's domain.
[He shrugs, as though to say 'eh. what can you do?' before continuing.]
After that, we moved to Stuttgart. It is far easier to go unnoticed in a large city as opposed to a small town, so it had seemed like a good choice at the time.
Then the war came.
[Welp.]
B
[Medic was gonna go ahead and provide a demonstration whether Engie wanted to see it or not, but he still appreciates the man's participation none the less.]
Excellent. I won't be a moment.
[He carefully sets the device down on the ground, then turns back to his desk. Above it, mounted on a mobile platform on the ceiling, is his Medigun. He waves to Engie, prompting him to come over.]
I'll need you to activate the gun when you're given the signal, ja?
You'll know what the signal is when you see it.
no subject
Huh.
[No sarcasm meant. That's legitimate surprise, the kind of "huh" he reserved for genuine fascination. Now that they were getting into it, the merc pulls himself up on the counter nearby. Might as well pop a squat for this.]
I thought you just figured that out on your own.
[The gene-splicing and cross-species organ transplant, he meant. He always assumed that it was a recent discovery, not a tradition. Then again, it's not like he had much experience in the way of baboon hearts and the like until he got this job.
As for the war... welp. Engineer does the same.]
... Yeah. Wars got a way of doin' something.
[Whatever the "something" was, he'd let Medic get into it. But he could take an educated guess.]
B.
[Better Engie see it first before the rest of the crew, then. He briefly looks down, contemplating for half-a-second whether he wants to walk in blood. Screw it. He crosses the room.
Being an engineer, naturally, he glances at Medic's schematics too. He doesn't understand the notes (German? Chickenscratch? Both??), so he's still a long ways from discerning what the hell was happening beyond the drawings - but hell. He's impressed. Better to watch this in person, though, so he only spares a moment of a look before he focuses on the box itself.
Engineer is pretty sure knows where this is going. You'd think a man who butchered himself for the hell of it wouldn't feel his stomach drop at something like this.
But hell if he didn't want to know.]
Alright. Shoot.
no subject
[For a man who has told this story maybe two other times in his entire life, Medic sure is good at keeping casual about it. Maybe he's rehearsed this exact conversation enough times to have all the beats down pat, or maybe he's just so frighteningly good at emotionally detaching himself from anything and everything he's involved in that he can speak about personal events as though he were an outside observer.]
[Whatever the case, he doesn't seem bothered by the direction the conversation is going in. More...careful, really, like for once he's actually trying to gauge his partner's response as opposed to simply saying whatever the hell he wants regardless of their comfort level.]
Eh. [He winces slightly and waves his hand in a so-so motion, which is really all he has to say to that last comment.]
It's not as though it was the first time we were driven from our home. A change of name and address was nothing new to us.
[There's a reason the Devil himself calls him by his first name, and it's because the surname is the first thing to go when you need to drop off the radar -say, for example, when you steal a man's entire skeleton and are never heard from again.]
B
[Medic laughs, high and jittery like a rat skittering over broken glass. It's not a nice sound. It's not an altogether sane sound either, but it's by no means a sound Engie hasn't heard before. Perhaps not this up close and personal, but still.]
Aheheh heh heh. Hoo. That's a good one.
[See it's funny because Engie said "Shoot" and now Medic's holding a gun and exactly what you think is going to happen is about to happen.]
[Except maybe not because just when it looks like Medic is about to intentionally lose a game of Russian Roulette, a thought occurs to him.]
--Ach, wait, wait what am I thinking?
[He lowers the gun, bounces the palm of his hand off his forehead as though to say 'oh, silly me.' He then crosses over to a nearby table, sets the gun down - and picks up one of Soldier's grenades.]
A single bullet wound will not allow for a proper demonstration of the full capabilities of the reanimator.
[Ludwig what the fuck.]
no subject
[Engineer had leaned forward on the counter he sat on, arms leaned on his knees. Quiet. Probably sign enough for Medic that he was listening and wanted to listen. It's hard to read Medic when it came to more serious stuff. Dell figured that the least he could do was offer an ear and let the other man decide. He won't push it.
What he might push, though, is the two cigars he slips out of his inside pocket. Even if Medic doesn't smoke, hey. It's solidarity.]
How old were ya?
B.
[YEP HE KNEW THAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN AND YET THAT STILL WAS A POOR CHOICE OF WORDS]
For shit's sake, Ludwig!
[Engineer doesn't normally call Medic by his name. The merc steps forward and opens his mouth to make some kind of protest. His hands come up to gesture along with whatever the hell he was going to argue
... He stops short when he looks at the box. Slowly, his mouth closes. He looks back and forth between the box, blueprints he barely understands, the grenade, box, blueprints, grenade, and...
He groans. His gloved hand goes up to his face and he leans against the opposite table. Note that for all his ambivalence, Engie makes no move to stop him. Kind of a quiet sign that he still implicitly trusts the man, even when he's about to goddamn kill himself.]
Just use the fucking gun.
[He doesn't normally drop the f-bomb either.]
no subject
[But, then again, this is the 70's and social smoking is very much a Thing, and it's not like his principles are going to be completely demolished by a single cigar.]
[Medic flashes Engie a flat, unimpressed look, but the small smile that accompanies it gives away his quiet amusement. He accepts the cigar, if only to show he understands and appreciates the sentiment behind the gesture.]
Sixteen.
[Things had been heating up for years before then, but no one had anticipated things blowing over the way they did.]
Too young to fight, but too old to stand by and do nothing at all. When we fled to Allied territory, I lied about my age and credentials and enlisted as a field medic.
[He smiles a little, proud of his ability to bullshit his way into getting whatever he wants, even as a kid.]
Admittedly, there were better ways to wage my teenage rebellion, but boys will be boys.
B.
[Medic isn't sure which surprises him more - hearing Engineer say his actual name, or fact that he sounds distressed when he says it. Either way it makes him jump, startled by the outburst and the uncharacteristically harsh language that follows shortly after.]
[He blinks twice, his brows raised high so that he looks just as bewildered as he feels. The gears in his head turn at a snail's pace as he tries to figure out what the big heckin' deal is, and after a beat he comes to precisely the wrong conclusion.]
If you're worried about the mess that will be made, I assure you it will not be a problem for long.
gonna tag back everything else after this weekend!
[A small smile back tugs at the corner of Dell's lips. Sentiment was what he was going for, so mission accomplished. He lights his own with a matchbox he kept in the same pocket before handing them off to Ludwig. Whether or not the man actually lights up doesn't matter to him, he just figures he should offer.]
Heh. Sounds like my dad. He did somethin' like that 'round the first war.
[That's a different story, and Dell's family never had to flee from anything. He shakes his head.]
Guess I can't blame 'em for believing you. It's the glasses. Kinda age ya. [He's kidding. For real though:] But hey, believe me when I say most kids back then found dumber ways to rebel.
[Kids like himself, he should specify.]
B.
[Engie doesn't look up.]
Do me a favor anyway.
[He is begging you, because he's going to keep his face in his hand until the first part's over.]
no subject
[Engie jokes, but if he ever gets the chance to see Medic with his glasses off he'll realize how right he actually is. Those things really do add at least five years to his face.]
Oh?
[Ludwig smiles, sensing there's a story behind that offhand remark. Idly, he rolls the cigar between the thumb and forefinger of both hands, just to have something to do with it and them.]
[If only he could lace the paper with a little something extra, he'd probably be more interested in smoking it.]
Something tells me you speak from experience - far be it from me to assume, of course.
[Which is to say, he totally knows you must have been a little hellraiser Engie, spill the deets.]
B
[Medic looks from Engie to the grenade then back again before sighing, deep and long suffering. He rolls his eyes, not understanding what all the fuss is about, but he puts down the grenade anyway because he's a good friend. Sort of.]
Ach, fine, fine. You Americans are so sensitive.
[He thumbs the barrel of the gun, just to hear it click as it spins.]
Turn your eyes away if you must, but remember to look back up once you turn on the Medigun, ja? I won't be so happy to do this a second time if you miss the entire demonstration.
[After that, Engie will here a quiet eins, zwei, drei followed by a deafening bang and a heavy thud.]
[From the ceiling comes a flurry of movement and noise as the doves, startled by the gunfire, flutter about nervously from rafter to rafter, cooing in distress.]
[Ludwig would calm them if he could, but he's a little busy giving the Devil a double dose of the finger right now.]
no subject
[Man, they've known each other for this long. He's probably seen Medic glasses-less at some point.
Engineer blinks up in the middle of his first puff as Medic changes the subject. He even looks sheepish for a second (you brought it up, Engie?) before he laughs quietly. It pushes the smoke out in little puffs matching the time of his chuckling.]
Like I said, kids are dumb. [He shrugs, like he can pretend he's not talking about himself.] The kind of dumb that skips school, steals your daddy's smokes, bribes your sister into lying for you, and sneaks off to Austin for a weekend on a bike you built so you can get a tattoo.
[... A pause passes, and his fake innocence slowly gives way to a wry grin.]
Pissed off Pop more than Ma with all that bull. [He shrugs.] Still graduated top of my class, though.
B.
[Yep.
They've all seen each other like this. Beat, bloody, bones stuck out, barely alive, etc. Doesn't mean Engie wants to watch a man kill himself in the middle of the night. Which is why he honestly can say that, when he looks up and sees Medic on the floor? It's slightly less awful.
He feels himself shake anyway. Half at the idea of this failing, naturally; half at the idea of what it's going to mea if it didn't.
His mind immediately ran through how the hell he was going to explain this to the others, much less prove that the Engineer didn't kill their only Medic. He takes a few slow steps forward and follows instructions. The medigun comes on. Engie swallows. He trusts you, man. But also? Christ.]
Y'all turn undead and I'm gonna shoot you twice. [Sorry. He's nervous.]
no subject
[It's not very convincing.]
I assume your father was quite proud, though perhaps unsurprised.
[He picture it perfectly in his mind - Fred shaking his boy's hand, clapping him on the back, proud to bursting of the man he's shaping up to be. It's a cute little picture.]
B
[The medigun works no differently than it usually does. There's no extra bells or whistles, the eerie glow it emits doesn't crackle or spark. Visually, it seems as though the gun functions as it always has, as though no improvements have been made to it after all.]
[At least until that beam of concentrated rejuvenation passes over the re-animator on the way to Medic's body, at which point everything immediately gets freaky.]
[The reanimator hums, the delicate machinery within its crude shell roaring with life - fitting, considering that's exactly what it's meant to give. With a whirl and a click, an image suddenly bursts forth from the mouth of the device, a silhouette that Engineer will find all too familiar.]
[The hologram - if it can be called that, considering it is made of something infinitely more complex and unnatural than light - hovers in the air over Medic's body, slowly sinking down until it covers him entirely in its unholy red glow.]
[A second passes, then another. Even the birds overhead, perhaps sensing the tension in the air, remain quiet as the grave - perhaps fearful of breaking the silence that has settled over the room.]
[The silence lasts only a heartbeat before the corpse on the floor abruptly bolts upright, air filling empty lungs as Medic drags in a sharp gasp and looks wildly around the room, disoriented but unmistakably alive.]
[He brings a hand to his temple, and though his fingers come away wet he can feel no wound where one had most certainly been a moment before. He can't help but chuckle, breathless and giddy and more than a little manic.]
[Holy shit. Holy shit, it's just as exhilarating as it was the first few times. This is never going to get old.]
Ta-dah!
[He spreads his arms in a showman's sweep, still half-sprawled on the floor because wow, dying takes a lot out of you. He's still got some work to do, some things that need refining, but for a first draft he's pretty damn satisfied with the results.]
no subject
[Engineer snorted.]
Proud. Yeah. He was.
[Whoops. He didn't want that to come out so bitter. His smile thins, like he's trying to hold it in place. The cigar quickly goes up to his lips and he takes a longer inhale than usual. By the time he exhales, he tries to change the subject.]
Wound up getting kicked out of that tattoo parlor anyway. They pegged me for fifteen pretty fast. And my old man eventually figured out I was cutting class because I learned everything so damn fast. He just had to convince me to stay. So I guess I wasn't too dumb.
[... it comes out, and Dell realizes something. Did he have any childhood story that didn't involve his father? God damn.]
B.
[Holy shit.
Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooly shit.]
Holy shit.
[As grateful as Engineer was that Option Two happened, he now had no idea how to react. A silence passes, then the merc straight up hollers (again, as Texans do), and runs to Medic. He doesn't even care how slick the blood under him is now as he moves to help the other man up.]
You crazy son of a bitch.
[And in case Medic can't tell by his voice, Engie's grinning ear-to-ear.]
no subject
[Oh.]
[It looks like he may have touched a nerve.]
[Medic sits in silence, waiting for Engie to finish his drag and gather his thoughts, not wanting to pry into what might very well be personal business. Dell did the same for him, it's only fair he return the courtesy.]
Don't be so hard on yourself. You were young. Everyone is a fool when they're young. Intelligence may be innate, but wisdom must be earned - through age or error.
[He shrugs, then smiles a little wryly.]
I've learned through both, and let me tell you, error makes for a far more interesting story.
B
[Medic's laughter returns with a vengeance as Engineer finally reacts, as though his stunned mind only just now processed what he had just witnessed. The hollering that follows is both expected and appreciated - coming from Dell, it's more or less applause.]
I am a man of my word. I promised you a miracle and -
[He grips Engineer's arm a bit too tightly as he's hauled to his feet, an unexpected wave of vertigo hitting him all at once. He's a bit unsteady on his feet, but for a man who just had a bullet tear through his brain that's a pretty mild side-effect.]
--Ach. Entschuldigung. It takes a moment for the body to realize it's not shutting down.
no subject
[Engineer goes quiet for a good few seconds. It felt longer in his head. Then his expression finally drops. He sighs.]
Appreciate it, but... it ain't that. [He shakes his head.] Being fifteen and stupid's part of life. Just, uh. Long story short... my dad's been missing about a year now.
[The cigar twirls in his fingers, and he looks down.]
... which ain't really the right word for it. We're all pretty sure he left. But my family and I ain't been able to find him. Me an' him... didn't exactly part on the best terms either, after his accident.
Talkin' about being a kid, just... got me thinking about it.
B.
Hell, if bein' dizzy's the only side effect of comin' back from the dead, then I'll be god damned.
[Little does Engineer that being damned is probably part of it - at least for Medic, anyhow. He keeps an arm out to steady the other merc before giving him a mild slap to the back.]
How the hell'd you do it? Besides... [He looks to the blood and the gun.] ... the obvious.
no subject
[Oh.]
[This is certainly an unexpected turn.]
[Medic blinks, unsure what to make of the information that's just been revealed to him, let alone what to say in response to it. What can one say to a man who's father might have abandoned his family? Nothing that can help, that's for certain. Miracle worker though he may be, Medic has no tool in his arsenal that can assuage that type of wound.]
[Except maybe a lobotomy, but brain-scooping isn't an exact science and he would never risk damaging a mind as brilliant as Engineer's own.]
I'm sorry.
[For his loss, for bringing it up? Both? He's not sure. It just feels like the right thing to say.]
I had no idea. A man like your father...I wouldn't have guessed he was the type to leave without a word.
[Not that he should be able to make any solid assumptions about a man Dell has told so little about, but nevermind that.]
B
Aheheh - it's quite simple, really. Ingenious, but simple. I can hardly believe no one's thought to do it before!
[He gestures to the reanimator, swaying only a little before finding his balance.]
Within the machine, I have programmed by entire genetic code. When used in conjunction with the medigun, it finds all cells which conflict with its template and restores the body to its 'default' form.
[You know, simple.]
no subject
S'fine. I didn't wanna talk about it. Ain't like absent fathers are uncommon around here.
[See: Spy. As for Medic's remark, Engineer actually laughs quietly.]
You must've heard about him from back in the day.
[Yep! That's definitely it!!! One more pause passes. He already explained why he didn't talk about it. Now, though? It actually felt good to talk to somebody who wasn't family.]
I don't get it either. I wanna say it's not like him. Hell, man was my damn hero growing up. [Ugh.] But when he got older he got... complicated. Or maybe I just started noticing it.
You remember when I went on vacation last year? Supposed to be gone a week, turned into a month? Evelyn just had a kid. First grandbaby for my folks, first time I've ever been an uncle. His name's Gordon. Cute little scamp. [He smiles lightly, just for a moment.] I went down to the old ranch to see everybody. 'Bout a day later, my dad had an accident.
B.
[Simple enough for someone like Engineer to understand, but damn if he isn't impressed anyway. He lets go of Medic and looks to the reanimator. He crouches down next to it.]
So a copy of your entire biology's in this thing?
[He's guessing. Medic pretty much explained it for him already. Good job, Engineer. You're so dang smart. He gives a low whistle.]
How'd you figure that part out?
[He 100% believes you did. But this thing is worth the 100 questions he's going to throw at it.]
no subject
[You know, that story was real cute until the last part. It had Medic smiling and nodding along, then abruptly his smile felt inappropriate and out of place. Awkwardly, he shifts his expression into something a little more fitting for the occasion. Concern is a bit too hard, but quiet sympathy he can do.]
Some sort of invention gone wrong, or...?
[He doesn't want to make assumptions, but...well, this is a Conagher they're talking about. They tend to play a little fast and loose with their own safety when it comes to their machines. See: Dell's arm.]
B.
[Medic is on cloud 9 regardless of the mild dizziness he hasn't quite managed to shake off. He just proved -to someone other than his birds- that he can beat Death at its own game. Nothing could possibly dampen his good mood, not even the obnoxiousness of vertigo.]
Oh, there was really nothing to it. It was a simple matter of graphing each nucleic acid sequence in my genome and converting the patterns into binary code.
[Again, simple stuff.]
no subject
[Yeah, sorry. Honestly, Engineer hated being the downer most of the time. He could do it when he had to break bad news, but he preferred gunning through the tough stuff with grit and logic. They were already trading somber stories, though, so. Why the hell not.]
Nah. [He shakes his head.] Fell off the family horse and hit the ground wrong. Most normal damn thing in the world. Man dodges bullets for years and he gets paralyzed from the waist down by a damn fall.
[The merc shifts on the counter to bring his leg up over his knee. His foot nudges at another bottle. Idly, he picks it up and turns it over. Despite the German, he can at least pick up that it's somebody's prescription. Dalfampridine, he thinks. Go figure.]
He got... [He gestures to the air, frowning, trying to find the words.] I dunno. Knowin' you gotta be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life now ain't a picnic for anybody, but... retirement never sat well with him. He missed his old life, even after the buck got passed to me. So in his eyes he was old, useless, and crippled now. He got... real bitter. Hated anybody helping him. Snapped at me, Ma, Evie - even scared the baby at one point.
[He sighs.] We probably woulda figured something out. Hell, I was thinkin' exosuits. But then, accident part two happened, and his damn workshop blew up.
[Don't worry, this is when it stops being sad and starts getting stupid.]
B.
So nothing to it.
[Engineer stands up and grins wryly. Yeah, simple. Even somebody who knows what the hell you're talking about is getting sarcastic with you.
Doesn't mean he's any less impressed. He turns back to the reanimator, taking a few steps back as he shakes his head and rubs at his beard. He's still laughing and incredulous and amazed all at once.]
So... I'm guessin' this means you're gonna want our genetic codes.
[Ludwig probably has a plan already. But Dell, of course, is near-immediately thinking about practical battlefield applications. Again, the other merc probably thought through it already. Dell just wants to play catch-up.]
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[The idea of him languishing in a wheelchair, unable to bounce back from his injury - it just doesn't sit right with Medic. It strikes him as deeply wrong somehow.]
You could have called for me. I would have helped, if I had known.
[Insert joke about doctors and house calls here.]
B
[Medic laughs, and to his credit he actually does look a little guilty. Well, more embarrassed than guilty, but it's something at least.]
Aheh... I may already have them.
[Look don't ask how he knows the things he does, that's a rabbit hole that will take hours to go down.]
It pays to be prepared, Ja?
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I know. I was gonna.
[At the same time, it was hard to get a moment alone. It was only a nine-hour trip between New Mexico and Bee Cave, but if he called with his father in earshot, the old man would have fought the hell out of it.
It takes him a minute to remind himself they're nowhere near Texas or the desert now, though. He shakes his head, takes another long drag, and makes himself stare at a nearby signboard. Still barely knew the language, but it was enough to ground himself back in the "now."]
You know how EMP grenades work? The mercs back in my dad's day used 'em. They detonate ammo off guns, sentries, or any poor bastard who happens to be around. Had its uses, but unstable as hell. There's a reason we don't use 'em.
Long story short, Pop had a few in his workshop. He kept a lotta old stuff from back then, either to tinker with for for just-in-case situations. The EMPs were all disarmed, but... well, turns out we missed one. You probably know where I'm goin' with this.
He went down to reminisce for a while, knocked somethin' over and... [Engie brings an arm up and splays his fingers out, gesturing an explosion.] Evie got there first. By the time I did, she was screamin'. Pop had blown his whole damn lower body off. And he was...
[He squints and brings both hands up. Between the cigar and the way his hands moved, people back home would tell him how much he looked like his father.]
Laughing? Laughing about it. Combo of trauma and blood loss, I figured. I dragged some dispenser parts I had in my truck, but when I tried healin' him he got me by the collar. Told me, gasping and laughing, that he didn't need those legs no more anyway. Told me to make him like me and Granddad. Told me to build him new legs.
[His hands go down and he shrugs.]
So. I did.
B.
[... Oh. Engineer shouldn't be surprised. He really shouldn't. He squints at Medic through the goggles anyway.]
When the hell'd you get my DNA?
[i mean he knows how DNA works
and obviously he's talking to a doctor
who works regularly with the same eight people
but
at the same time he has to ask
are you stealing hair]
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[Medic is, in fact, quite familiar with how EMP grenades work. They're nasty little things, pack a devastating punch if you're nearby anything electronic - which, if you're an Engineer, is almost always.]
[Medic runs his hand back through his hair, lets it settle at the back of his neck as he stares at the floor, not wanting to say what he feels he must.]
...And you're certain it was an accident?
[He hopes it was. He doesn't want to think that Fred, in a moment of weakness, might have done something both foolishly extreme and extremely foolish - but the doubt is there, dark and ugly and obvious. He can't help but wonder if Engie has already considered the possibility himself.]
[He certainly hopes he has, or else this question is going to come as one hell of a rude surprise.]
B
[Medic feels at least 5 different smart remarks bubble up to the forefront of his mind, each vying for the honor of being voiced, but he quashes them all down and chooses something more cordial to say in their stead.]
You didn't think I just threw all those hearts away, did you?
[He snorts, then waves his hand to dismiss the very suggestion that he would ever be so wasteful. Somehow just throwing his arm out like that is enough to unbalance him, and for a moment Medic wonders if maybe the reanimator didn't bring him back to life quite as completely as he thought it did -]
[Then he remembers he hasn't slept in 72 hours and the lightheadedness suddenly makes a lot more sense.]
[Chuckling at his own forgetfulness, Medic turns towards a nearby cabinet and rummages through it, searching for God knows what.]
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