making this cold harbor now home

[dubiouslychthonic]

Who: Sawbones Jetshard and open!
What: Several around-the-station open prompts, first week of March.
Warnings: Third prompt involves blood and routine medical testing.


A - March 2, Common room, ~1 A.M.

[It's still a little surprising to Jetshard how quiet it is in the middle of the night around here; it's not unheard of for others to be up and around at this hour, of course, but in a troll community the aftermidnight hours would be the busiest part of the day.

Anyway, it feels vaguely antisocial to spend too much time shut up in her quarters, even if her sleeping schedule doesn't seem to coincide with most others', so she's currently camped out in the common room, sitting crosslegged on one of the couches with a large, dense book open in her lap and her tablet computer balanced on one knee. Ever so often, she taps something into the tablet.]

B - March 5, East Residential Hallway, ~7 P.M.

Aw, shit, no...

[The exclamation - more disappointed than alarmed, almost resigned - is accompanied by a faint clatter from inside the open door of Apartment #1. A smallish disk-shaped robot with a largish knife taped to the top trundles out of the room and down the hall toward the kitchen - maybe a bit faster than might be expected of a troll roomba. A moment later, Jetshard follows, stocking-foot and damp haired. She looks both ways at the door before spotting the device and giving chase. Hopefully it hasn't found any ankles yet...?]

C - March 7, Medbay, ~9 P.M.

[Jetshard sits on the edge of a cot in the medical bay, a combination of her own kit and some supplies she's scrounged up in here spread out next to her. She's turned away from the door; although she hasn't bothered to pull the curtains and hide herself from view, she's also kind of sheilding what she's doing with her body as she draws a vial of jade-green blood from her arm.

There's no real reason why she needs to be in here for this, except that there's something comforting about keeping medical things to the medical bay. It feels... safer somehow. Less vulnerable.]

Comments

March 5

[fantasykiller]

Why the hell is this thing targeting me!

[Misfortune was an everyday occurrence for Touma. This typically ranged from tripping over random objects to vending machines malfunctioning and eating his money. Today was no exception. The spiky-haired teen was currently marooned on one of the armchairs in the common room thanks to a certain malicious roomba. He had sought higher ground in order to escape its deadly knife and ended up getting trapped. Touma watched in despair as the murderous cleaning robot circled around his chair like a hungry predator stalking its prey.]

[dubiouslychthonic]

[Luckily, Jetshard's not terribly far behind, although when she sees that the weaponized cleaning drone has Touma effectively trapped, she pauses briefly and sighs, burying her face in one hand. She only spends a short moment questioning her life and everything that brought her to this moment, though, and proceeds to walk over and plant one foot firmly on top of the robot, just behind the handle of the knife.

It is, after all, pretty much just a roomba; a little pressure is sufficient to pin it to the ground and immobilize it.]

Sorry about that. Fumbled my sylladex trying to pull something else out.

[fantasykiller]

H-hey, don't look at me like that! That little bastard snuck up on me and nearly sliced my ankle! I could have been seriously injured! Just because its small doesn't make any less deadly!

[Feeling flustered and stupid from how easily Jetshard defeated his robotic adversary, Touma tries to stammer out an excuse in a desperate attempt to salvage his dignity.]

[dubiouslychthonic]

Oh, no, don't worry, I understand. It managed to wound at least four people before I trapped it and got it into my sylladex in the first place.

[She stoops and picks the roomba up, careful to keep her fingers clear of the knife but not, otherwise, taking a great deal of caution in how she handles it; the motor whines a bit as it revs in protest at being picked up.]

The damn thing would be less infuriating if it wasn't so ridiculous.

[fantasykiller]

[Touma relaxes a little once Jetshard secures the roomba. With the threat of ankle stabbing gone, he repositions himself on the armchair to something more comfortable and stretches out his legs.]

Why did you seal it inside your sylladex like it was some kind of immortal Demon Lord instead of permanently disabling it? Can't you just remove its batteries? Or at the very least, get rid of the knife?

[dubiouslychthonic]

I was going to, and then something else came up, and I had enough empty cards in the sylladex that I didn't immediately need to free this one up.

[The roomba beeps. She sighs.]

Also, they named it, and now for some reason I feel bad about taking it apart.

[fantasykiller]

Look, I don't understand the significance behind it being named or what that means to you, but that shouldn't have prevented you from making sure it couldn't harm anyone. The fact it managed to escape its prison due to a mistake means it's possible for this incident to repeat. Four people have already been injured according to you and it would have claimed more victims if it wasn't so focused on stabbing me. It's not like you had to smash it to bits. All you needed to do was remove the knife. You've had more than enough time to disarm it since arriving here. Leaving it intact inside your inventory was kind of a careless thing to do.

[He glances at the little robot with an irritated look.]

So, were the ones who armed this cleaning robot close to you or are you just a really sentimental person?

[dubiouslychthonic]

[Ok well. She really can't argue against any of that. He's still way more worked up over this than seems reasonable to her. She completely unceremoniously captchalogues the roomba.]

Are you injured?

[fantasykiller]

Nah, I'm fine. It didn't even nick me.

[He stands up out of the armchair.]

Do you have a pair of scissors or a box cutter stuffed away in your inventory by any chance? It would be best to remove the knife now while we're still thinking about it.

[dubiouslychthonic]

Then there's no harm done, and I'll keep closer track of my things in the future. [Also she's already made one attempt to dismantle it and found that one of the girls had reinforced the tape with some sort of epoxy - probably to support the weight of the knife, although possibly to foil attempts to deprive Wishgore of its ability to gore people - but she's just peeved enough now to feel that she doesn't owe him that much explanation.]

[fantasykiller]

...Alright, if you say so.

[Touma decides not to push the issue. Although he would have preferred to disarm the blood-thirsty roomba, he's fine with her keeping it sealed away in the forgotten depths of her inventory since nobody got hurt this time.]

But if it ever escapes again, I'm not going to hesitate disarming that little bastard.