mervinmcginty | (no subject)

Entry tags:

after the protests start

(no subject)

To: JMcGinty [@] Freenet
From: BestPilot [@] Freenet

All right. I'm dressed up a bit, Demiard, since I'm going down for a talk at the university later, but I'll go down and get a blood sample with your doctors. Apparently this has something to do with that Montechristeu guy. Moore was worried sick about him. Bad case of - you know - he's not dying, but he's not well, and he wants to pretend he's okay.

Not that I blame him. From what she said, his arrest wasn't benign neglect at all. Man's inhumanity to man or - something. I need to vent at you about it. Sometime. When you're not freshly shot.

Either way, I'll meet up with you, and buy you something to munch on while we head over, and you can make sure I eat something afterwards. Maybe we'll meet your boyfriend. You did ask him, right?

You can't just coast on forever, James. If he's that important to you, maybe you should ask.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

James is still carrying some of his folders from work, freshly emptied, but he hurries over to catch up with Mervin. "Hey. You're doing all right?"

And well, if he kind of stops a bit for Mervin to look him over and fuss with straightening his tie, call it letting Mervin fret at him. "Toton, I'm fine. I swear." He pauses, and flashes a half smile. "R may be there, you know. He was talking about trying to be there to head back with me to spend the night. And ... we kind of are. I mean - for now."

"Great," Mervin falls easily in line with him. "Does that mean I need to ask when he's buying you some hand towels or a mixer?"

"They don't do that in Paris IV," James grumbles. "I'm not even sure what the proper thing is. Maybe they go down and get their ears pierced and buy matching earrings. Do you want me to buy lunch? There's a stall with nice pears, and a pastry shop if we hit a left here."

R's on his way over from a quick meeting, glad he managed to get out from it on time. He's hurrying to meet them in time, hoping he won't be too late or anything. He does want to be supportive after all. And then he's spotting James, and waving, slowing to more of a walk and adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he nods at both of them, strolling over. "Hey."

James does kind of know this area, after all. It's nearish where he works, and it's on the way home. His side is - still sore, but it's no where near as bad. And there's this - for some reason talking about things as what "we" will do really seems comforting to R.

"You don't have to. I think I owe you lunch for years, right? You shared it enough times when we were younger," Mervin says. He's smiling though, and it's not that pinched look he got when discussing debt. "And I know. Nothing owed. Still, I can feed you, nothing owed too."

James grins and promptly winces as he tries to give R a half hug with the wrong side. "Hey. We're not interrupting stuff, right?"

He's ignoring Mervin chatting up some small kid and quietly buying an extra pear for them. It's - something Mervin does. Calling attention to it tends to get the kids to run or Mervin to get jumpy, so -

"What's your opinion on pears, anyways? Mervin wants to insist I get lunch."

"You kidding?" R grins, returning that hug. "I was able to time that perfectly. Didn't want to miss a chance to hang out." he explains, and he's had good news, but he'll be mentioning that one later on since it doesn't apply right now as it is.

"Pears, hmm?" He smirks. "Our king looks like one."

"I wonder if that'd make eating one in bad taste." James polishes one absently and offers it to R. Hungry? "I can buy something for you once the docs are done, Mervin. This is R, by the way. I'm not sure you saw him much in college?"

Mervin waves cheerfully. He's not supposed to be eating for - it was some very important thing about sugar levels. "Hey. I swear I won't ruin your reputation."

"Probably not." R grins. "Someone's got to sell them, right? They make a profit, everything is good. Hey." He adds, giving Mervin a little bit of a grin. "Nice to finally meet you. And thanks. They look about perfect. We never DID manage to run into each other, much, did we? My circles got...odd for a while."

"It's fine," Mervin says. "I'm a pilot, so we tend to keep track of people more with e-mails anyways. And don't worry about it, James. I'll probably nag you to get a honey tart or something like that. Montechristeu likes them."

He's comfortable enough walking with them. His French definitely sounds more - Scottish by way of Quebec, to be honest. Probably from his various work over seas. James' faint accent is more noticeable with his cousin there to banter with.

"Did James fill you in? I'm getting some blood drawn for some thing about Lorena Station. I'm guessing water quality or something like that." Mervin's frankly got a few other minor stuff from his last flight, but - he can be okay with doctors poking at him. It's not like a glow burn from yavanite and a bit of bruises would be that unusual in a pilot.

"There's always crepes." R offers, grinning. "I mean if you want to grab something portable after, and take those back with you."

His french works out fine for R, who notices the accent more than he usually does on James now. "So" He adds, nodding at that last bit. "Ferre let me know what was going on with some of that. He's at least not too bad if you need a doctor. I mean Joly isn't either, but they both do know what they're doing, you know?"

"It'd be pleasant," James says. "I was thinking of inviting you back. There's this sparkling apple juice that isn't horrifically sweet. And it's quite good on ice. Might be good with crepes."

He leans a bit as they walk and looks over once Mervin's starting to peek into the clinic. "If you're free? It's really nice hearing that you're enjoying time with me. And I've got a couple of stupid questions. Nothing - uh - nothing that I'm mad about? Just - questions?"

Assassin questions, R thinks, hoping it's not those but pretty sure it must be. Anything else, he's pretty up front about, generally. Kind of nerve inducing, but not a problem right now, as he sees it. First is getting Mervin's blood looked at, right?

"Hey Ferre!" he calls, as they head into the clinic proper. "I've got the McGintys and your blood sample's waiting."

There's a scoff as Combeferre comes through, looking a little embarrassed by how that introduction went.

"Wow." the doctor comments, shaking his head a little. "I'm not THAT clinical yet, am I?"

Mervin's thinner than James. If James has one to two pounds too much, Mervin's leaning more the other way on the scale. A hair sharper in his features, but next to each other, the familial resemblance is a lot more obvious. "I have the right to bare arms for a good cause?" It's an awkward grin.

Mervin offers his hand. "Mervin McGinty. I heard you patched up my cousin. I owe you."

James makes a face behind him. "I did offer to pay."

"Remind me NOT to introduce you to Joly or Bossuet." Combeferre suggests, laughing at the commentary maybe a little too much. "They'd like that entirely too much, and then, several more later..." He sounds fond though, all the same for that.

"Thank you for offering, by the way. I'm hoping it can help clear a few things up."

Mervin's helpfully taking off his jacket and working on rolling up his cuff. There's a faintly glowing old yavanite burn near his elbow and a spattering of bruises from a minor scuffle when he was in port earlier before he got into the station.

"So don't use puns around them unless if I'm prepared? I can handle that," Mervin looks around and gestures. "Want me to sit so you can get set up?"

James frowns at the bruises.

"Port bar," Mervin offers. "I'm fine."

"I can work around them or go from the other arm if that's better." Combeferre is saying, getting a look now. He really doesn't want to make a bruise hurt more by, you know, sucking blood out of it or anything.

"Pretty much that with the two of them also." he agrees, then peers at the burn. "Yavanite? Is that recent or...we don't see much of its effects out here."

Mervin absently pokes it before rolling up his other sleeve. There's an older burn near his wrist that's almost invisible in daylight. "Yeah. The yavanite gets pretty hot when it's activated, so you can accidentally get burns. The glow fades after a while."

He cups his hand to show the faint dot on the other wrist. "Like that. It's fairly safe? I mean, no worse than other burns. Breathing dust or getting it in your bloodstream will wreck you a lot faster." There are some places that actually used glow burns for fashion. Incans thought it was a bad idea. Then again, they had the sun breathers, so they had good reason for finding it dubious. "I can ramble about it a bit? I've been working with yavanite engines since I was young. Or there's Tom. I think you guys ran into him."

"Any chance of me hurting you if I do anything wrong?" Combeferre's more concerned about that, honestly. He's planning on not re-using the needle he's got prepped, even if people tell him that's kind of wasteful and it's why he ends up going through so many supplies. There've been a few theories about blood and cross contamination that have come up with some visiting professors at the medical school and, well, he's not going to risk it if it can be helped. If he was doing SUTURES, that might be different, a litt le, but even then, that would have to be one of those stop gap middle of nowhere with limited supplies measures.

"That's kind of fascinating." Combeferre leans in for a better look. "Sorry, I'm being a little rude. I've just never actually seen what it looks like before. And, of course, Enjolras couldn't come home with THAT kind of injury," It's clearly meant ironically and not seriously at all, at least. "I did meet him, yeah. At the cafe after our rally that wasn't. He reminds me of one of my best friends."

"Really? He and I are a bit - he's the guy you invite to meet your auntie, and I'm the one you ask to come to the back door kind of thing." Mervin holds out his left arm, since it's a bit less bruised. "I think they're both fine, but let's try this one. I'll talk your head off, because otherwise I'll fidget."

Since he knows how he is. "I think the one on my wrist is about two months old? And the other one is - a week. I think. Burn's healed, but it's still a bit touchy. You're lucky. The one on my leg's healed up. That one got near enough to light up some veins."

"That was horrifying. Wasn't that when Darius was steaming cores to make engines blow and you had one go off and burn through your trousers?" James probably shouldn't be speaking up, but - he does remember that. "You had a bad fever while that was healing. Tom threatened to take you to the hospital again."

"But I was a bit hot legally at the time for that. I was all right in the end," Mervin says. "Young and stupid. And lucky."

"It...veins..." Combeferre blinks, in horrified fascination. It's the kind of thing you have to just stare at hearing because you can't possibly DO anything else. It's like the horror stories people sometimes come in to tell when you get around to talking about differential diagnosis during the phase of your internship when they try to get you interested in various careers once you're finished with your sentence being everyone's favorite lackey. Well, in theory. Combeferre's own internship's been a little different due to everything keeping them busy, and the Necker being what it is, but still.

"I can see where you WOULD want to take someone to one of those, being stuck full of that." Combeferre's shaking his head a little, in wonder. "Really, if you're close and legally stuck, you can call. We've all been stupid and lucky, I think."

"Hear hear," R raises his hand from where he's sprawling over a chair now. "But it works."

"Vein glow usually means it's -" James trails off looking at his cousin. "That'd mean you got enough of a burn to have the glow spread?"

"Or shrapnel or dust hitting open skin. Not hard in an explosive situation like that. And the school got me bandaged and checked it over in a dark room to see how bad I was. I think someone's still got photos of my leg as part of the criminal complaints. I doubt you'd see anything cool now." Mervin eyes Combeferre cautiously. "I'm a bit - uh - gallows humor, I guess? Sorry. I started working with yavanite when I was twelve."

"Eleven," James says. "That's when you got in the flight school."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only