Dead On Arrival, (Med-Facility)

[deadman]

As it turned out, Magneto understood the importance of finer healthcare. A fully stocked medical facility was in place within the metallic base, and it was as spacious as it was uninviting. Currently it was even less inviting, as the door to it was guarded by the most precarious of watchmen: What appeared to be an actual security guard, uniform and all. Of course said uniform was caked in dried blood, and the figure appeared to be quite dead, but it shambled about none the less. It was mainly there for Dead Man to see who would be coming down the hall, and would not interfere with them unless he commanded....

but his mind was elsewhere right now anyway. For what laid within this medical lab would come straight from the imagination of Clive Barker.

Dead Man was stretched out on two metallic tables pulled together, his skin split open and pulled back in a quite surgical manner. He watched with red eyes as Angie was going through the motion of packing his insides with some sort of sawdust mixture, and he seemed to be smiling with dark glee. Occasionally he'd offer her a suggestion, telling her to pack places more tightly or to make sure to fill in a spot.

On the floor rested Mr. Bones, his little head on top of his hands peacefully, and his tail wagging back and forth.

[Nightingale]

OK, so this was one of the grossest things that she had ever done.

There was something quite disconcerting about slicing into Dead Man with a scalpel and it being no different from the chicken breasts that her mother had made her practice on.

"You've got to know this, what if someone needs an emergency appendectomy?" Elizabeth said, watching as her daughter did her best to keep a steady hand and make a neat incision. Angie was looking at her mother like she was crazy - after all, she'd already figured out that her skin touching someone else's would do a lot more to help out than the first aid kit that had to be kept in her school bag.

She'd refused to go without gloves, even though she really could have. As it was, she'd put on two pairs of gloves just to keep the ew away. Sewing up Dead Man's anus from the inside, shifting away all of the sawdust that was already in there, had been a rather interesting experience. One that she never wanted to repeat again. Ever.

At least it smelled good, right? Things could always be worse.

Mentally, Angie rewrote her meal plan for the week.

She was definitely not going to be stuffing any chickens for at least a good six months.

[impact]

Lucas followed the directions Pyro had given him towards the medical room to find Nightingale. He got turned around a few times and had to retrace his steps, but saw the little sign on the door from down the hallway.

It wasn't until he got nearer to the double doors that he saw the swaggering figure in the security uniform. He hadn't seen guards around the facility before, but figured there must be something important in the medilab to require one.

"Hey man, I-" then he smelled it. Luke's eyesight had never been that good. It took a few more steps before he saw just what was wrong with the "security guard".

Jesus Fucking Christ.

With his stomach lurching, Lucas reacted in the only way he knew how- not one for flight, the only alternative was fight. He lifted an overlarge fist and swung at the zombie, whose hands lifted in the air in a dumb reflex of self defense.

He may have been dumb, but he was quick. The undead security guard ducked, and Luke's fist went smashing into the steel wall behind him. There was a tremendous, booming crash harmonied by the high pitched yawning sound of splintering steel as Luke's mutation kicked in, cracking the wall in a three foot radius around his fist, now buried in the solid rock beyond the steel layer. The sound of cracking rock thunked dully beneath his fist, crawling in minute fractures into the body of the mountain.

[deadman]

Dead Man barely had time to react as he saw in a distorted figure (the empathic transmission he got in “real time” was somewhat limited in vision) through Security Guard A's eyes nearly take it's head off. Dead Man was sure the figure was probably Brotherhood, as he doubted anyone else could have made it this far in. It was likely a new recruit, unfamiliar with the Animates.

As the crushing blow demolished the foot thick steel wall behind the Animate, and erupted into a destructive boom and echo that shook the building, he was definitely hoping he was right. Maybe if he were sewn up with an army of animates he'd have preferred the mutant to be an enemy – that way he'd get an incredibly powerful animate out of him, but he was fairly certain he'd be dusted in close combat with the guy under current conditions.

Still, animates were hard to come by on the island, and he didn't want this one destroyed. He ordered it to duck into the doorway, while simultaneously he shouted (well, somehow made his hoarse whisper carry farther) at the large figure: “Cease your attack! That Guard is Brotherhood!”

[Nightingale]

"Whoa!" Angie ducked instinctively as the base shook, still wrist deep in Dead Man's chest cavity, looking around in confusion to see where the boom had come from.

Her first thought was that there had been an explosion, that people would be hurt and that she had to help, but then Dead Man was yelling about an attack and the dead guard was ducking into the doorway.

She drew her hands up out of Dead Man's chest as though stung, shaking off bits of fragrant sawdust and pushing a bit of hair off her forehead with the back of her arm. Not knowing what the hell was going on - though from Dead Man's shout, the idea that whoever it was would stop because the Guard was Brotherhood, it probably wasn't an outside source coming in to kill them all - she didn't feel comfortable running out to find out for herself in case things went... badly. She'd be close to useless if she was injured herself, after all.

So Angie looked up at the door, down at Dead Man, and back up at the door before she started shovelling the rest of the Dead Man's stuffing in at top speed.

"Hello?"

[impact]

Lucas waited until he could feel the reverberation from his punch wear off, and put a boot up on the wall, yanking his fist out from where it was buried.

"Son of a bitch," came the low-throated protest. His hand was pretty scraped up, but nothing too lethal. He flexed his fingers and turned into the doorway, glowering.

"What the fu-" he stopped short. He didn't look sick, exactly- though if he had they wouldn't know, because he stepped out just as quickly.

"Mind explaining why there's a dead dude in the hallway standing guard? You some cuban voodoo bitch? God DAMN it..."

[Nightingale]

"What?" Looking down at Dead Man, satisfied that he was about as well stuffed as she was going to make him, Angie put down the sack of sawdust and picked up several tools from the little bench nearby. She felt like a real surgeon as she began placing the sutures to close Dead Man's 'wounds', making sure to do a very neat job since he wasn't going to heal like living people would.

"I'm Australian." She looked confused for a moment, shaking her head, then began explaining, her eyes on what she was doing but her voice raised to carry out to the newcomer.

"I mean... No. The dead guard is there because... Well, I don't really know why, but he's one of Dead Man's. You'll get used to them." She looked up to Dead Man's face, but he wasn't making any move to make her explanation easier. He was probably enjoying seeing her squirm.

"Are you ok? What'd you do?" She kept suturing, watching as a little row of neat stitches closed the incision she'd made. All she wanted was to get it over and done with as soon as she possibly could, and she was hoping that once Dead Man could get up without spilling sawdust everywhere he'd join the conversation and save her from trying to explain and clearly failing.

[deadman]

Dead Man chuckled, giving Angie a wink.

“Come in. There is nothing here unwelcoming.” Dead Man said, his hiss-like voice very likely the counter of the words he spoke. “I am the Dead Man. I command the dead, turning them into Animates. You will find them about the base standing guard. They will not attack you, however, unless I command them to do so.”

He watched Angie stitching him up, and nodded approvingly. He continued to speak to Lucas from the table, however.

“Come in. If you are not squeamish, you may find this particular piece of modern medicine intriguing. Sweet Nightingale here is a woman of many gifts.”

[impact]

Lucas straightened his posture and stepped back through the door, a broody look about his face. He looked at Nightingale for a drawn out moment, as if trying to figure out how this very young, very pretty young woman could fit into the garish scene around her.

A bit stiff(and how appropriately so), the man nicknamed Impact came further into the room, setting several thick fingers on the end of the metal table where Dead Man lay. “You’re talking.” He nodded, then looked between them.

Laughing a little gruffly, he cracked a half grin. “That’s fucked up. So uh…” he gestured to the security guard. “You control that, then? And the other ones?” He rubbed at his bottom lip gingerly, the nasty split from Recluse’s kiss still fire red beneath his touch. He’d worn it a few days, by now.

[Nightingale]

Pulling another stitch tight, Angie looked down at Dead Man for a moment before nodding. It was fucked up, but her nod could be taken as answering the other question as well.

"And Mr. Bones." She nodded down toward the little skeletal dog, who was still lying down in the corner watching the proceedings peacefully.

Carefully pulling another suture closed, the young Australian stood back and considered her work. They had to be close together so that Dead Man wouldn't start leaking, and she was reasonably confident that she was almost finished. She placed another suture just in case.

"Are you alright?" Chewing on her lip, she surveyed the row of stitches and nodded before cutting the needle free from the silk and placing the instruments back on her little bench.

If I never have to do that again, I will die happy.

Peeling off her gloves, Angie stepped away from the animated corpse and looked at the newcomer with her head tilted to one side.

"Angie. Did you want me to take care of your lip?" She held out her hand as if to shake.

[impact]

Lucas just chuckled at the little dog, giving it a glance a few seconds longer than he probably should have.

His eyes traced back to the suturing, and his eyebrows raised.

Jesus.

Then the girl held out a hand to him. She'd just had herself elbow deep in this dead guy, and now she was offering him her hand. Something was very wrong with these people.

His jaw tensed, and he shook his head once at the offer of a handshake.

"Yeah, but uh... that can wait. I'm sure you want a shower or somethin'."

[Nightingale]

"Well, yeah... Kinda." She actually felt rude for saying it in front of Dead Man, as if she would insult him or something.

Angie didn't think he actually could be insulted. That he could have a straight faced conversation about his odour and plugging his anus left the young woman doubtful that the walking corpse was capable of such a thing.

Still, she'd had gloves on. With a shrug, she dropped her hand, tucking both into her pockets.

"Just touch my arm, or my cheek or something. All it takes is skin contact, I'd rather get you fixed up first..." She shrugged again, her eyes dropping to the floor. It was what she did, so Angie felt useless when people wouldn't let her use her gifts. As grossed out as she had been helping Dead Man, even that was better than sitting around with nothing to do for yet another day.

Not much happened on Genosha that needed her attention. Hanging around to watch the training sessions could be good for her - even if she didn't actually get to help, she'd still feel better just having a job. Dharma was right - she floundered with nothing to do.

Thinking about the boom that they'd heard from the hallway, and the way he'd been flexing his fingers as he came in, she clarified, "You've got heightened strength or something, yeah? Just be... gentle, I, uh, can't heal myself." Angie looked down at the floor again, spots of pink blooming in her cheeks. Maybe she didn't like admitting that she wasn't as useful as she could have been. Maybe she was hoping that she was right about the super-strength and that she wasn't making things worse - she had an unfortunate habit of that. It was, in actuality, a bit of both - that, and she couldn't fail to notice that the very tall newcomer was good looking. What was it with them? It was like they got all these hot guy recruits just to taunt her or something.

[deadman]

Dead Man was very impressed by the suturing, particularly given the rush that Angie had put in at the end. He’d watched her calmly, however, red eyes following her work with interest, even as the tall stranger had made his way in.

Oh yes… quite a beautiful animate you would be indeed, young man, he thought, looking over Lucas’ muscular form. The super-strong ones were always particularly enticing to the Dead Man.

Soon the Living were talking, and Dead Man conceded to Angie for the purposes of communication. He stood up off of the bed, and grabbed his clothes. His body was unnaturally gaunt, little more than a skeleton given form. It was also unnaturally shaped, upon close inspection. The sawdust mixture on the inside had been packed in tightly by himself and Angie, but only insofar as the skin would allow it to be shaped. It wasn’t designed to look like muscle, but rather to fill space. His pallid, near-green skin was colored unnaturally, and was now decorated with stitches in various parts, including one across his throat, and another running down one side of his hairline. He looked very much like a Frankenzombie.

Pulling his clothes on, he watched the other two.

[impact]

Lucas was happy to put his attention on something other than the meticulously dressed corpse, and leaned in a bit, tilting his head to catch Angie's eyes. His voice was a low, smooth bass tone.

"Guess you could say that... I reverse inertia, kinda. Like a rock on the end of a rubber band, that's my arm." He lifted one of those thick, perfectly muscled arms and rolled the fingers. His knuckles were scraped up but nothing bad- nothing near what they should have been. "So what do you mean, be gentle? How does your power work, anyway?"

He almost reached out to tip up her chin, but thought it might be dangerous given he had no idea just -what- her powers were about.

[Nightingale]

"Energy transfer." Angie couldn't help but stare into his eyes as she explained. He was really good looking. And she was a hormonal almost-eighteen year old who hadn't had any male contact (until a week ago when she'd had a rather one-sided kiss with Pyro) since the age of thirteen. Also, she really didn't want to be watching Dead Man get dressed. It had been bad enough when he'd been getting undressed and had started to take off his pants before she explained that she could do everything she needed to through his stomach cavity.

"Uh, my energy. To whoever touches my skin. Only people, and only the living." She shuddered a little at that.

"But because it's my energy it takes a while to get back, and if I get hurt I take forever to heal. Just thought... Well, Cain, the Juggernaut? He doesn't realise his own strength sometimes."

[impact]

Lucas grinned down at her. He knew that all too well. "Yeah. Well... I've had a lot of time to figure it out the hard way. I wouldn't hurt you." There was something like flirtation in his tone, and he cleared his throat, chuckling.

"Aight. So I just have to... touch you." He nodded. "Well uh..." He looked her over, offered his hand as if to shake, then curled his fingers into a fist, pulling it back. "Was going to introduce myself, but... my name's Lucas." He smirked.

Reaching out almost tentatively at first, he brushed his thumb over her cheek bone. It was an almost endearingly awkward gesture from the overly large man, but he didn't know how else to touch an unknown woman.

Well, not entirely unknown. "Angie. Nightingale... both are really pretty. Which do you like to go by more?"

[Nightingale]

The smile she gave him was sweet and rather shy as she felt her energy start flowing through to him at the light contact. It almost tingled for her as she felt his injuries starting to heal - the cut on his lip, the lacerations on his knuckles, scratches that criss-crossed his back.

"Um. Most people call me Angie. Just as long as you don't call me Angela, I don't really mind." She really, really hated that name. It reminded her of her mother and teachers and other authority figures who hadn't understood her mutation nor accepted it. Every time Dead Man or Mystique or any of the older Brotherhood members called her Angela, a bubble of resentment surfaced and it reminded her of being dragged out of her life to a foreign country to be cured.

"It's nice to meet you, Lucas." She peeked up at him through her eyelashes. Yep, he was still cute. And he was still holding her in what could have looked like a tender gesture to anyone who happened to walk past.

The smile that the blonde mutant gave him this time was a bit more confident. "You can probably let go now, should be right. I should probably go have a shower soon anyway." It was very rare that she wasn't the one controlling the touch, and she was actually starting to feel a little bit weird about it for some reason.

"I, uh, can't turn it off." Angie shrugged a little and looked down at the floor again. Why did that make her feel weak when it was just a part of her mutation?

[impact]

Lucas dropped his hand, and fingers went to his bottom lip. He rubbed the spot where he'd almost gotten used to the sting and burn of Gracie's presence. Not having it there... well it was almost a shame.

"I, uh, can't turn it off."

He looked back at her, and smirked. "'It'sa bitch, ain't it? But I guess you've had the same kind of years I have... or maybe not." She did look pretty young. But so pretty.

Breaking into a grin, he tapped her on the arm with the back of his knuckles. The casual touch had a heavier effect, his mutation causing those sorts of touches to fall with a bit more impact. Thus the name.

"Hey thanks. Look uh... I'm sorta new here, so if you get bored, look me out, eh? I could use a tour."

He didn't even bother scowling at the disgusting mess that was Dead Man, giving the corpse-guy a nod and heading out the door.