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Tweak says, "Hey you guys!!!"

justmybones (justmybones) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-23 11:07:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 12, leonard mccoy, location: museum, open, remy lebeau

Day 12: 10AM. In Town
WHO: Doctor Bones McCoy and OPEN
WHAT: Wandering around so he can find his objective and take the next shuttlecraft off this rock and back to the Enterprise
WHERE: In town, let's call it near the Museum
WHEN: 10AM
RATING: TBD, PG is safe

STATUS: Complete

Boots. He liked his boots. He liked his boots that were now getting quite dirty. He liked his boots clean. That meant he didn't have to take time polishing them. That meant they were sanitary for wear in sickbay. That meant that he didn't have to worry about them. Currently, his boots were dirty. It was hard to get your boots dirty on a starship. Thanks again, Starfleet. Thanks again.

Bones McCoy was following the chipped pavement into what looked to very closely resemble a town from Earth in the 1950s. The paint was peeling but the archetecture suggested age. Hell, it looked a lot like he imagined his home would have been years ago. Only.. not ravished by some sort of natural disaster. What the hell, Starfleet? "You guys must have went way over budget on this one," he quipped scratching at the side of his face. In his one hand he carried that small pack he'd woken up with. Mission Vas Captio. Whoever came up with the names for these really needed to have someone talk to them.

Still, Bones sauntered on. Eventually he'd come to the reason that they needed a doctor here. Probably another childbirth scenario. Those were the worst because they were predictable, yet Star Fleet made him do them over and over again.

"Just get me back to my ship."

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-23 07:03 pm UTC (link)

Childbirth scenario? Not unless he was going to be delivering a small child from the body of the lithe, male Cajun who was coming around a particularly large tree just now, staring into a book that looked much like the one that Bones had been left in his little care package. The red-head almost didn't stop, but he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and stopped immediately, then lifted his head and turned it to look at the new-comer. His body was still a profile to the poor unsuspecting man, but at least Gambit was looking at him now, right? His own boots were dirty, caked in mud and sand, from just the few days he'd been here now. Three, to be exact. Three days.

"Shi'?" Had he just said.. shit? Or ship? It was impossible to tell. Really, it was. "You go' 'de box, homme. I guess 'dat means you new, oui? D'accord. Tou'h luck, gettin' me as 'de gui'e, bu' you be gla' la'er, prom'se." What in the Hell? The red-head was turning then, to face the older man square on, and he snapped his book shut then tucked it inside his trench coat to leave it for safe keeping, before that brilliant smile returned, cool and charming, welcoming. Like he was excited to be here.

"'De book is uh j'rn'l. You can wri'e in it, an' ot'er people here, 'dey can see it. An' 'de nut jobs run 'de place? 'Dey can see it too. You can make t'in's priv'e, bu' it only hi'e it from 'de people here, no' 'de nut jobs run 'de place. Un'erstan'?" He didn't want for confirmation before carrying on. "Bien. 'De wa'er is impo'an', gon' wan' keep 'dat. Gon' get t'irs'y. 'De socks? Keep 'dem. Ain' got no show'rs workin' righ' now. An' keep 'de box. You gon' fin' you ain' go' not'in' on you wha' be yours, oui? 'Dey don' leave you not'in', jus' your clo'tes. Nice shoes, by 'de way." Gambit wanted them. The black and red eyes stared for a long moment at them, so nice and clean in comparison.. before he looked up again and the smile returned to his face. This poor man.

"Now 'dat outta 'de way. Bonjour, il est agréable de vous rencontrer." Hello, it's nice to meet you -- his attempt to sound as normal as possible. He was easier to understand in French.. if you could understand French. "M' Gambit." He could only pronounce his own name so well because he'd practiced it for so long. No hard feelings to anyone with T's in their names. "An' you in Vas Cap'io, a lil' town in 'de mid'le o' a big glass box." He gestured upwards, then around in a circle. "'De glass don' break. Ain' no way ou'. We all trappe' in here. 'Dere 'bou' fi'ty o' us? Give or ta'e. An' we don' all get 'lon'. Bu' for 'de mos' par', we ain' tryin' t' kill one ano'ter." He seemed sort of proud of that, and was running that hand back through his long hair, shaking it up some before he allowed his hand to fall again, and he pushed it into his pocket.

"'Dey do 'xperimen's here, an' 'dey kill people, an' leave 'de dea' bo'ies layin' 'roun' for us t' fin' 'dem. Take care t' stick close to a grou', so you ain' 'come one o' 'dem bodies." It was then that he took a moment to pause and glance upwards, as if searching his mind for anything else that needed to be said.. but when he found nothing, red and black eyes were lowering again to lock onto the poor, unfortunately blue-shirted man.

"D'accord?" Okay? Had he really just asked that?

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justmybones
2009-06-23 07:19 pm UTC (link)

Bones stopped mid step. Where had that guy come from? He hadn't bothered to reach for his phaser because just like the last five time's he'd been dragged off for one of these he didn't have anything except whatever was in the pack they gave him. It was always rude of them to do that sort of thing, take everything. Sometimes he wondered if they'd changed his underwear, too.

When the red eyed man started to speak Bones wasn't sure what he ought to fixate on more - the down home nature of the accent or the fact he could think of five different species with eyes like his. He wondered which one this guy was. Perhaps he was a derivative of Sibyzian. Could be, he seemed the right height for it. Damn, those Starfleet people really going out of their way on this one, weren't they?

In typical training mission mumbo jumbo the doctor came to realize this was his mission briefing, so he listened attentively. Though, the more he listened, the more he thought this was the most ridiculous mission he'd been assigned to. Perhaps Kirk had a role in making this one up. That would figure. Only he would put people in a town with a glass wall around it and call them test subject. Jim could be a sadistic bastard when he had the mind to.

"Well, isn' this somethin' unique," the physician croned, full blush Mississippi coming out in the face of the Cajun accent. It was a slow drawl that carried on. Shaking his head he got back into the required speech.

"I'm Doctor McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the Starfleet Starship Enterprise. Do you require any assistance?" He had to ask, it was protocol. "An' where you from?" Generally, McCoy managed to keep his accent hidden fairly well; unfortunately an accent is something that fed off others in this case.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-23 07:27 pm UTC (link)

"Non, no 'sis'ance. Well.." A doctor? Really? "Maybe you take uh look'it my shoul'er? Frien' mine fix it up, bu' still hur's some. Don' wan' go to 'de gym, 'dey all swarmin' 'der." Even as he asked, he was shrugging off his jacket and rolling the injured shoulder some. The tank top left nothing to the imagination. His left shoulder was blossoming a very large, very angry bruise all along the joint, where it'd been popped out and forced back in.

"From Lou'zee'anna, on 'de Bayou. N'Awl'ns." Accents bred accents, and with the Doctor's slower drawl, the Cajun knew the other man would be able to understand him easily enough, so wasn't trying to sound as clear as he could have. "You from 'de Sou'h, homme?" He could recognize the accent for what it was, but wouldn't be able to pin a location onto him, since most Southern accents sounded very smiliar. The New Orleans Cajun drawl, though, that was distinct, and most people wouldn't know it when they heard it, since such a small part of the population had it to begin with.

"Nice t'mee' you, Doct'r McCoy." That was said off-handedly, as he was inspecting the clothes the other man wore. Nothing like he'd ever seen before.

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justmybones
2009-06-23 07:57 pm UTC (link)

Starting off with something where the briefing giver had an injury was common procedure. It was intended to make sure that each person followed protocol. If Bones hadn't have asked, he would have been docked thirty points. He'd missed it the first go round, but never again. This was successful attempt number three. You're up thirty, he thought happily. Seventy points to go.

That wasn't right - what the red headed guy had said there. Nobody lived in New Orleans anymore, not since it sank in 2156. Or was flooded. Or, whatever. Point was, nobody lived there. Someone must have screwed up this guy's script. Well, he might as well play along.

"Gladhurst, Mississippi," it was a town a half an hour from the old Louisiana border; not that Louisiana proper really existed anymore. Though, people still referenced the border. Sort of like how people still referenced Mexico even though it didn't exist anymore, either.

Finally taking a look at the man's shoulder he was impressed, it was like they'd actually dislocated it. He hoped the actor as under some sort of mild local anesthetic.

"Well, looks like you have quite the muscle injury there. A slin' would do you some good; holdin' it in a hangin' position like that is only makin' it wors'," that's another ten points, Bones.

"More people at the gym?" He asked. Well, that's where he'd rack up his points and be getting himself back on the next shuttle out of here. This could be a record time, he thought.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-23 08:09 pm UTC (link)

"Miss'sippie? Aw, we nei'brs 'den, non? Lot o' 'de people, 'dey from 'cross 'de ocean. Lookin' at me li'e I ain' talkin' righ'." He smirked and lifted his eyebrows as he watched the Doctor check out his shoulder. A sling, huh? Well, then he'd figured it right. Now where to get a sling, without having to go to the gym? Because he really wasn't going there. No way. Well.. maybe if he was injured and another Doctor was accompanying him? He could just.. leave the Doctor there and skip out once he had his sling. It'd be like a trade-off. Yes. Okay. He could go to the gym.

"When you from, homme?" Questioned slowly, as he was shrugging back on his jacket carefully. He'd already found out that most people here weren't from the same time, so why should this guy be any different? With those clothes? Maybe he was straight out of the sixties. Maybe the seventies. He looked very retro. "An' I show you to 'de gym.. an' maybe we fin' a slin', non?"

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justmybones
2009-06-23 08:16 pm UTC (link)

"I'd say we are," he replied with a smile fitting a southern gentleman. Wasn't often he met people who knew what it meant to be from the south anymore. Things were slower there and simpler. He was missing a Mint Julep right about now. He was missing one something fierce.

"When?" McCoy raised a brow and shook his head, laughing a little. He wasn't going to bother answering that. It was a stupid question to ask at all. "A sling o something to make one out of," he nodded. It wouldn't surprise him if this turned out to be an improvisation drill. At least those were interesting.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-23 08:25 pm UTC (link)

"Oui, when. Like.. 'de 'day was Augus' ten, nine'een nin'y-t'ree. 'Das when I'm from. 'De Doct'r, he from two-t'ousan' nine? O' eigh'.. can' 'member. Don' matter none, 'dough. We all here now." He made a vague gesture around before pressing his hand into his pocket to help keep his arm from hanging. Then, with another nod, he was beginning their walk away from the museum and slowly in the direction of the gym.

"You takin' all 'dis info'ma'ion real good, homme. Mos' people, 'dey freak ou'. 'Dis norm'l f' you?" Gambit would be interested to hear it.. the Doctor acted like all of this was normal, and so did Captain Hardness. And it wasn't that far off the mark for Remy himself.. but it was a little strange.

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justmybones
2009-06-23 08:33 pm UTC (link)

"Star Date 2203.16," he recited off as if it were gospel. Perhaps it was a neuro test. He'd supposed they'd really knocked him out for this. Made sense. Though, the past four times they hadn't bothered to do the same thing. Strange. Maybe it was a new protocol. Hot damned, doing something smart, who knew?

"Ah, well, you run through 'nough of these an' they sort of start to become ol' hat." He couldn't help but shrug a little. It wasn't like he was some first year cadet or something. No, he'd engaged in triage aboard a starship under attack, he wasn't about to let some ready-check of a mission get under his skin.

"They have Captain's running this thing, too?" He always thought they were exempt, perhaps he was wrong. Wouldn't be the last time.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-23 08:57 pm UTC (link)

"Dunno wha' 'dat means, mon ami. Bu' goo' f' you." He flashed him a winning smile before shrugging up his good shoulder, leading him further away from the museum as he did. "Run t'rough 'nuffa wha'?" He questioned curiously, eyebrows lifting up. This man seemed like this was.. normal. Wait. Did he think this was a test?

"Capt'ins? Non, we on'y go' 'de one I know 'bou'. An' he ain' really runnin' not'in'. 'Cep' his mou't." Remy laughed some at his own joke and shook his head, letting his hair swing freely as he did. He was so funny sometimes. Ah, he loved his own humor.

"Dunno why you ain' askin' more ques'ions, homme." Maybe it was a prompt to do just that.

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justmybones
2009-06-24 08:05 pm UTC (link)

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

Prime Directive! Damned Prime Directive! He'd managed to navigate around it before with that strange pair of kids, ignoring their question about his ship and giving them a look of 'yeah, whatever' when they called him something funky. How did he forget about it? It was that accent. It disarmed him. Dammit.

He was now 40 points in the hole. Dammit. All he wanted was his bed. Was that so much to ask?

"Well, let's just get to the gym?" The doctor responded, skirting around the question of few questions and the one about running through things. Prime Directive. Must keep up the Prime Directive.

Stupid protocol.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-25 10:52 pm UTC (link)

"Oui, oui. 'De gym." He agreed, waving his good hand idly as he turned to continue leading them along. Really, he had to swing by the gym anyway, then by those dummies to grab up the car radio. He had a box of condoms in his pocket already, and he had to find Dean and get his damn cake back before the other man ate it! Gambit was hungry, and that cake had sugar, and he really needed some sugar right about now.

"Wha' your name 'gain?" He asked curiously, glancing back at the doctor in blue. Two blue Doctors. Well, that was amusing, to say the least. He'd have to tell the Doctor about it when he next saw him. .. Well, maybe the next time he saw him wouldn't be a good time.

Later, then.

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justmybones
2009-06-27 10:04 am UTC (link)

Well, at least this guy would get him to the gym. Perhaps this would be one of the few training missions that would be to the point. They almost never were; but, Bones wanted to make this one a speed round. Mostly because he knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it from Nurse Chapel if she was left with all his paperwork from the last three days for too long. She had this thing that he had to get all of his files updated by Tuesday. What was so special about Tuesday was beyond the doctor.

"McCoy. Leornard McCoy." He repeated. Rank gone. Title gone. This was going to be some sort of Prime directive infused mission, he'd better shift his script.

"What's the name of this place again?" Alright, so maybe he hadn't paid close enough attention to the mission briefing. Oops.

The Gym, one they reached it, was ramshackle at best. "Good God," the Doctor quipped, canting his head and furrowing his brow. How had this place not fallen in on itself already was beyond him. "You're using this as a hospital? You're lucky the roof hasn't fallen in on everyone..." The physician sidestepped some rubble and was already on his way inside. Like hell he was going to spend one more minute in this simulation than he had to.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-27 07:36 pm UTC (link)

"Vas Cap'io." Sorry, Bones, the accent might hinder you actually finding out the real name of the place you would be trapped at for, oh, the next hundred years or so. But someone, eventually, correct him. Maybe not.

But he wouldn't have a lot of time to ask, once he got into the Gym, there was plenty of work to be done there. And when the pair arrived, Gambit rocked up some onto his toes and watched as the other man headed inside.

"Goo' luck, McCoy." The mutant gave a short wave, before flashing him a grin and shaking his head, pulling that Journal out once again to look down at it. Now where in the Hell was his damn cake? The Cajun would be wandering away before the Doctor got to give his proper Good-bye. But it didn't matter, they'd see each other again, soon enough.

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