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Entry tags:
- !mission log,
- dc comics: damian wayne,
- dc comics: tim drake,
- final fantasy vii: rufus shinra,
- star wars — legends: mal durrish,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- the 100: octavia blake,
- the untamed: xiao xingchen,
- the untamed: xue yang,
- ✘ avatar the last airbender | aang,
- ✘ blade of the immortal: asano rin,
- ✘ dc comics | jason todd,
- ✘ final fantasy vii | tseng,
- ✘ final fantasy vii | vincent valentine,
- ✘ hazbin hotel | angel dust,
- ✘ marvel comics | kate bishop,
- ✘ marvel — tv | daisy johnson,
- ✘ marvel — tv | jessica jones,
- ✘ original | joric,
- ✘ original | sylvie gallard,
- ✘ original | willa lisieux,
- ✘ shiki | natsuno yuuki,
- ✘ star wars | anakin skywalker,
- ✘ star wars | padmé amidala,
- ✘ star wars — legends | boba fett,
- ✘ tales of vesperia | rita mordio,
- ✘ the 100 | clarke griffin,
- ✘ unholy blood | hayan park,
- ✘ worm: francis krouse
MISSION 001
WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: March 29th-April 20th
WHERE: Everywhere on Etraya
WHAT: Mission 001!
NOTES\WARNINGS: Potential violence, death.
WHEN: March 29th-April 20th
WHERE: Everywhere on Etraya
WHAT: Mission 001!
NOTES\WARNINGS: Potential violence, death.
![]() ⏵ mission prep ⏴ On the morning of the 29th, characters will receive a notification from Aurora to come to the hospital’s ground floor to prepare for their first mission. On this floor, pairs will be given slips of paper with matching numbers. If characters have chosen their partners, they too will receive small slips of paper with matching numbers, as these numbers match the room assignment they will be asked to please step inside. The rooms themselves are bare. There’s a cot, two chairs pushed up against a small table, a miniature fridge set up below a sink, and a television that only plays static. On the table is a note, which simply reads: Welcome. To prepare you for your first mission, we are giving you time to get to know your partner. You have a twelve-hour time limit to discuss your lives together. We recommend talking about moments throughout your life that have defined the person you have become. In addition, we have included several ingredients inside the miniature refrigerator. You must, without telling your partner specifically what it is, create their favorite drink using the ingredients within and above the refrigerator.Within the mini fridge will be numerous ingredients - these ingredients could be anything, from Bantha milk to dragon fruit - whatever their favorite drinks are, they will find all the correct ingredients to make them. There will also be numerous extra ingredients. Maybe a character’s favorite drink is a nice cup of peppermint tea. The kettle, and the tea bags, will be present on top of the mini fridge, but there may also be soda bottles inside the fridge and various milk substitutes. Cheating by making their own drink will result in the game being reset, and a new partner being assigned or no partner at all being assigned and they will simply be removed from this part of the exercise. ![]() ⏵ the secret's out⏴ Numerous notes can be found throughout Etraya’s populated areas - falling from the sky, taped to doors, slid under them, or perhaps being handed out by a few of the companion bots who will eagerly note how these are meant to help, but a quick read may show that they’re not things anyone wants to be given out so freely. After all, on the notes are secrets, untold truths, things that were never meant to be shared nor wanted out in the open. Some of these aren’t notes at all, but small packages that are not addressed to anyone in particular, or addressed to the incorrect party. Inside the packages are items that may be associated with a particular event: a knife that had been used to betray a friend still stained with blood, a mask meant to conceal identity, a picture featuring a moment in time that had best been left forgotten. The goal of the game becomes clear by the notes written on the back or thin slips within the packages: match the secret to the person. You could simply ignore them, but the note also includes an addendum: more notes will continue to be sent until the person is matched to their secret. ![]() ⏵ cracked reflection ⏴ Every person is an intricate mosaic, composed of numerous facets that shape what makes them - themselves. After all, one person is not simply one picture, but rather, a puzzle comprised of myriad pieces. These pieces may shape their strengths, their sense of humor, the influences of their upbringing, and who they admired in their formative years. Together, these fragments coalesce into a singular form: you. But what if those pieces were rearranged? What if the fundamental aspects that define who you are simply… didn’t exist? What if, rather than being a courageous hero, you were cast as a formidable villain? What if, instead of pursuing the path that led you to greatness, you veered in a different direction? A new dawn breaks over Etraya. The artificial sun rises over the horizon, accompanied by the melodic chirping of birds. As the denizens of Etraya awaken, they sense... a shift in the air - a feeling of dissonance, as if a piece of themselves has suddenly gone missing. Because it has. Doubles of every current inhabitant of Etraya roam the corridors of the apartment building and the surrounding facilities. They let themselves into Roxx to get a few new outfits, get themselves a meal at the hospital cafeteria, or maybe they’re raiding the snack shelves at Kwik Trip. They may bear a striking resemblance to their counterpart and act very similarly, but there is something off about them. A quality that sets them apart. Remember that step you took, that led you to your current career? The step you’ve kept secret for so long, that has defined your actions ever since? They didn’t take it. They went down a different path, something darker, or perhaps something lighter. They took the path you most feared, the one you knew would turn out terribly. And they in turn - turned out for the worst. Characters will find they are facing one of their worst fears: themselves, but their worst selves. The version of them that they fought so hard not to become, that they strove against rather than towards. And the mission? They need to take out their worst selves. But there’s a twist: interaction with their doubles isn’t possible. Both halves are cognizant of each other’s existence, yet they are incapable of verbally or physically interacting with each other. And while the double understands what they are, the original? Well… how do you truly know you are who you’re supposed to be? What if you were the double all along? What if you are your own worst self? There is one way to be sure: the color of the copies’ blood is slightly darker than what it should be. Running closer to a red-black than the red you would anticipate. Or for some, perhaps their blood is red where it should be running black. While they feel and look real, driving a unique blade straight through where their heart would be will cause doubles to dissipate into nothing once the knife penetrates deep enough. As for the genuine articles, well, the blade is sharp—and it’s going to hurt. A blade is provided for every authentic copy. Those who were sleeping through the night will find it beside them upon awakening. As for those who remain vigilant throughout the night, the blade will manifest beside them in the early hours of April 2nd. Guess someone is going to have to kill your double. ![]() ⏵ quicksilver has no sense of tact ⏴ Aurora’s announcement left out several crucial details: the existence of the doubles, for one. But also the looming deadline to take care of the mess that has been dropped onto Etraya. Inside the characters’ wrists, they will discover a timer gradually counting down. The timers are only visible for the person who dons it, as is the amount of time given. Every person is given an individual time limit, but it cannot be longer than two weeks. As the numbers dwindle, more black marks appear going up the inside of their arms toward the inside of their elbow. And what are the black marks? With each additional black mark, they begin to feel… less like themselves, and more like their doppelgangers. In the beginning, maybe they barely notice the change. Maybe it’s a favorite food they loved that they now hate, or perhaps it’s an event that has shifted: something small but important - a decision to save a life changed to taking one. Maybe they’ll feel like a piece of themselves is no longer the same, replaced with another feeling or sensation. Where something would have usually made them empathetic to another's blight, now they find their suffering funny. Regardless, the longer their doubles are around, the longer they slowly begin to become their doubles - and their doubles begin to become just like them. If their doppelganger is not taken out at the end of their provided time, it will simply dissipate and the original will remain changed. The only way to return to normal is to kill the original. After death, the character will remain dead for twenty-four hours before returning to their normal selves as if the death had never occurred. While killing them to return them to normal is information Aurora will readily share, no one will inform them that they will simply return to normal by April 20th. Welcome to the first mission! For any questions relating to this mission please reply below. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ. Please note that while ICly, characters are not given a choice, players can choose which missions they wish for their characters to participate in. They may have missed receiving room assignments, or their secrets may not have been dropped, or a copy may not have shown up for them. This may not always be an option in future missions! |
secret (organ)'s out
or at least thought she had, until glancing about at one opportune moment outside the apartments to see a familiar masked boy holding a jar. and double-taking at the contents.
admittedly, having spent the better part of the last day hunched over a bio-hazard bag, she thinks it might just be another spleen floating in preservatives there. when clarke had first opened her own package, there'd been a distinct air of shock and disgust at the contents. she'd almost abandoned the box in the apartment doorway, but the same morbid curiosity that'd led her to following her mother into a medical apprenticeship had won out. she'd spent a great deal of time pressing on the chunks of organ through thick plastic just to get a better look at all of it; just to place the purple hue and defined notches at the top against what she remembered from 100 year old medical textbooks. just to get a full grasp on the game they were being expected to play here.
and while she now understands it to be a potentially bloody one, no ideas of how to proceed have sprung up — at least until she spots damian several yards away with that similarly unpleasant gift in hand. )
Hey, ( she calls out. they'd foregone introductions when the boy had been on top of the bookcase and she had been dressed in prison gear. but in lieu of names, clarke holds up the bio-hazard bag and nods her chin at the jar to beckon. )
What'd you get?
( give her a minute and close the distance. it's hard to immediately recognize an excised part of yourself from far away. )
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(A human spine in a plastic-lined box. A short spine in a box, all vertebrae and the sacrum were accounted for in his investigation, as was the spinal cord. Tim would put the victim between 4'9" and 5'2". He'd intended to take it to the hospital and "borrow" some equipment for a more accurate analysis. Sex and age impact the spinal column, but there's significant blurred lines between any child and female adult. The box had no preservation, so Tim stuffed it with ice from his apartment's freezer, tied the twine back up, and packed it inside the backpack (also "borrowed", like his clothes, from a half-built, half-abandoned department store). Tim Drake got the box, so Tim Drake had to deal with the box.)
It can't be a coincidence that two residents received nasty surprises this morning. He's still weighing how to say "spinal column, likely of short female" without sounding like the butcher, when she calls out to - oh, hell.
There's three residents, and one of them is Robin, who is just holding an organ in a jar. New goal: help Damian not look like a psycho. Tim tightens the straps on his backpack to brace himself and quickens his pace. ]
Shouldn't all of that be in the hospital?
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damian rolls his eyes in drake's direction, less subtle than he ought to be but more than he would have tried for had tim been in uniform. )
Your observational skills astound me. ( can you hear the sarcasm, tim. ) The companion bots thought I might need a kidney. I considered bringing it to the hospital, but considering the goal is to reunite the item with its owner, I thought it may be of more use here.
( he's still holding onto his jar, but his focus shifts to the bag in clarke's hand. )
What did they drop on you?
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bookshelf boy looks like he's about to say something laced with vitriol and clarke raises her eyebrows, preemptively annoyed. but then in from stage left comes another figure with dark hair and an opinion. not a bad one, really; whatever damian has looks thoroughly preserved in formaldehyde, but without the likes of a cooler (or preferably incinerator) it's a countdown to when her bag begins to reek. aurora and echo may have the means to shape the hospital to accommodate all, but our medical records probably aren't easily accessible. it could still be a decent place to start...
that line of internal thought is only somewhat derailed by watching damian go from kneejerk snarky dismissal to flat sarcasm, and she has a brief second to scan the duffle bag ladened stranger from head to toe before her attention snaps back to the boy she'd originally called out to. )
I thought it was a liver at first. Or a pancreas, but — if I'm supposed to assume the person this belongs to is still alive, it'd have to be a spleen.
( a spleen and a kidney are two organs on the shortlist of what a human being could have removed and still prove mostly functional. there's always the option that whoever originally owned this organ is in fact not alive by traditional means but rather supernatural suspension. but who knows, maybe on the far end of this secret matching game is a really unfortunate mortal soul who's just been through the wringer and a few too many messy surgeries. with two clues, three heads, six eyes, and a little pounding of the pavement maybe they could —
wait, hold up, what had the kid in the mask just said? )
Sorry, you said a kidney?
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(But it’s only a ridiculous coincidence. He didn’t have a spleen when he got here.)
He stares at the bag, trying to recall anything about the size of the spleen in proportion to the human, but it’s no use. It’s not like a limb or a spine; he can’t make assumptions based on its size without access to medical journals. ]
But who told you the goal is to reunite it with its owner? Do you think the companion bots have dissected one of us?
[ The questions are directed at Clarke, but meant for Damian. Tim’s trying not to show familiarity, and she is the last one to talk. ]
Because I found a body part, too, and the original owner isn’t in good shape, if they’re alive.
[ A human can survive a spinal injury, but the complete removal would involve a heart-lung bypass machine. Death would be inevitable without medical intervention and would be a mercy. ]
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( not that it necessarily needs to have come out of someone's body, he supposes. it could very well be a trophy, but a kidney and a spleen feel like odd choices. the jar gets tucked under an arm so he can reach out instead for the bag in the girl's hand. doesn't try to take it, but the intention of him wanting her to hand it over is clear enough without grabbing. she was cooperative to a point last time they met, he's running off the assumption that will continue. )
Mine is discolored. If someone had been dissected, they would likely match.
( a glance over to drake and his duffel bag, but he doesn't reach for his just yet. )
Show me yours, too.
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he's closer than he had been when she'd initially flagged him down, and the purplish organ bobbing along in liquid has her entire attention at this moment. bits and pieces of the conversation still filter through, as if strained through cheesecloth; companion bots dissected, found a body part too, return to owner,
mine's discolored.
on some level, she'd always assumed it'd been kept as some sort of trophy. disgust and vindication make for strange emotions to experience simultaneously; they swirl together and take shape as a white-hot ball of anger in the back of her throat, then sinking down to the pit of her stomach just to further drive home the fact there is an empty space in her abdomen. can she actually feel the void of a missing kidney? no, of course not. but the visceral reminder tucked beneath someone else's arms and staring her down behind glass is akin to dragging a razor across a scab and reopening the wound in full.
it takes a moment to realize damian has extended a hand, a moment further to realize what he wants. but this isn't so much of an out of body experience that she cannot bring her hand up and deposit the bag in his hand with a crinkle of heavy grade plastic masking the squelch of medical waste. )
This one looks normal.
( clarke wants to reach out and yank this potential part of herself from this boy's arms about as much as she wants to turn and walk away. maybe it's lucky tim is here too, with his mysterious third body part yet to be revealed. she's got the hints of nausea around the edges of her face but tries for blank apathy when turning to watch him, silently piggybacking on damian's show me demand. )
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He's going to give the girl a break and put his full focus on Damian for the response, as she looks a bit green. She has the misfortune of being next to two people who are well-acquainted with shock, stress, and I'm fine. It's easier to be fine when you aren't under scrutiny. ]
I didn't skip the instructions. I don't trust the instructions, because I found a a human spine in a box wrapped up in brown paper and twine this morning. Why should I trust the instructions? Why should you trust that the discoloration was antemortem?
I don't even trust Aurora, or did you forget that we've been kidnapped?
[ With a glance at Clarke to see that she's still holding it together, Tim takes the box out of his bag but doesn't open it. They don't need any more biohazards right now. ]
I'm open to other theories, but I think I'm looking for someone with a collection. A training theatre in the hospital at best.
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Is the spine noticeably damaged?
( he's not looking at tim. instead, damian's focused on the biohazard bag he's been given by clarke. the jar gets lowered onto the ground beside his boot so he can open the bag and remove a throwing knife from his belt to... poke at the spleen. )
This looks like it's been sliced through. ( what a mystery, isn't it. who has taken a blade straight through their upper left abdomen? hmm. ) The kidney appears to be intact. A novice wouldn't have been able to remove it so smoothly.
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and a brief break is all she needs anyways. just because this is a new type of morbid doesn't mean she hasn't seen her fair share. everyone here comes from scary places, she'd been told once before, and one doesn't survive scary places without getting really good at swallowing your own bile and reverting back to that tired old i'm fine.
she doesn't love the idea of copping up the truth in front of two strangers — they haven't even gone around and introduced themselves, though maybe names would just make this worse — but that is the whole point of this exercise, isn't it? there's still questions about the spine and the spleen, she can forego her own comfort and at least offer up the answers at hand for the kidney. )
No. No, you're right. The person who took that out had ( at least 200+ years ) ...a long time to perfect their technique. I'm just gonna —
( sidle on over and pick up the jar now that he's put it down. the slosh of formaldehyde reignites a bit of nausea, the kidney emits a silent siren call for her to stare at it. but a big deep breath in through her nose helps calm both compulsions. she can leave now, right? oh wait shit, the spleen. )
Guess you're off the hook, now. ( this is directed entirely at damian, eyes dropping pointedly to the biohazard bag as clarke continues. ) But if you don't know who that belongs to, I'm still going to need it back.
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[ Another apologetic look at Clarke, because he doesn't want to be what breaks her poise. ]
Like a hackjob. Which is why I thought it was someone with more precise medical knowledge.
[ Thought, not thinks, because she's taken ownership of the kidney now, albeit without any video game fanfare or magical glowing light to signify success. That's a bother, because the only way to be certain is DNA testing, which they don't quietly have at their disposal now. ]
If a scimitar could've done it, it's mine. [ To Clarke, he continues, as if he's not standing with one hand outstretched to Damian, awaiting the spleen that he's had a bad feeling about this entire time. ] If you're not fully human, now's the time to say so. That kidney is discolored, and the hospital might be able to treat the underlying cause. I'll go with you to see if we can get the spleen tested to prove that you've met the challenge.
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The spine may be mine. If it's meant to belong to someone still alive, I doubt many here have had theirs replaced.
( he could leave it with drake, to make him fail whatever assignment this is if it's even his. but drake hasn't irritated him to that extent yet, and it's not as if damian actually wants him to lose. )
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...yanno, this would probably be a really funny moment if it weren't for the undercurrent of gore and grievous bodily wounds. like, really, what were the odds? either this game was really on easy mode to ease the populace into what they should expect going forward, or it says a lot about the three of them (and the powers that be) that they could be brought together over dismembered body parts. no one's laughing though, and no one's about to start. oh yeah, and tim had suggested a little hospital daytrip that doesn't exactly strike clarke's fancy. )
Fully human. The color is... a long story? But very normal for me. Now. It's fine, I promise.
( then to damian, because she has questions that are more pressing than just trying to shirk a blood draw. ) Your world was advanced enough to replace an entire spinal column? I — how? Magic or medicine?
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(And because it probably is diseased. It's been getting carted around in a bag all day, and, if it's his, it's several years old and was removed in a cave next to a Lazarus pit. It's not copacetic.)
Tim yeets the box to Robin without further argument. He has questions, but they have an audience. It's not the time to ask what story he's about to come up with; he gets to learn that from the civvy side.
He hates the civvy side. ]
No, you don't get to change the subject. He's walking, so if it's his, not a problem. Yours looks like an Elder God barfed it up, and I want to know you're not a carrier for the clench before I start bleeding out my eyes again.
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( and he is clearly walking again, so it's of no concern to anyone why he has a spine in a box being tossed to him that may or may not be his.
as soon as he has it in hand, damian's kneels so he can pull open the box and examine it. there's no need to test the DNA of the spine when he recalls perfectly what injury had caused his spine to be out of his body in the first place: a couple bullets to the base of his spine. the knife he'd used to jab at tim's spleen gets wiped off against his thigh before he's using it to poke at the spine.
boxes it back up after another moment and carries it under an arm, much as he had previously done with the kidney. )
The nerd is right. If whatever's causing the discoloration is potentially contagious, it'd be better to tell us now rather than later.
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A carrier for what?
( no, nevermind, she doesn't care. bleeding out of ones eyes also isn't a new idea so that doesn't particularly strike the urge to ask follow-up questions about. almost unconsciously clarke takes a half-step back, weight shifting to the balls of her feet like she's about to turn and leave. but before fully committing to it — )
You know, you're making a lot of assumptions considering most of us don't even come from the same worlds, and you have no idea what biology was like on mine.
( given the state of her blood and internal organs is more thanks to technology, but it fits right in with charles darwin's proclamations about survival of the fittest. )
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[ The amount of things he has to remind himself to ignore whenever Damian is present is just exhausting. He made one Lovecraft reference, and now he's a nerd.
(Damian said he was right, though. He'll take the win.) ]
We're making assumptions based on humanoid appearance. I know all mammalian species have kidneys, but then you might get offended that I'm assuming you're a mammal? Organ evolution doesn't happen in a bubble, so if you look human externally, I will assume the internal appearance is also the same. If your kidneys were that color, your other tissue would also be different.
sneaks this in outta tag order
I haven't seen any of my other internal organs on the outside, but I lost this ( smacks the roof of the kidney jar, this bad boy could have filtered so much extra fluid and waste — ) two years ago.
( a jerk of her chin directly at damian here. ) He and I met almost two weeks ago, and we're both still alive. Can't that be enough for you?
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You want to use the one who claimed the lost spine as proof of health? You have no idea who he is or what medical treatments he's received.
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( unlike immunocompromised tim over here. damian isn't too concerned over potential diseases, especially given she has been here long enough to have spread them around. it might have a long incubation period, her defensiveness is making him slightly more concerned, but.
really, he's just curious as to why it is darker. )
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( a majority of the time clarke griffin presents as a tired, put upon soul. hyper vigilant in the way she's always scanning a room, grasping at every material item around in the named of preparedness, friendly and open to the world around her only when she reminds herself to snap out of doomsday theories, and mostly just... quiet. but sometimes, sometimes, the closed-lid pot of constant frustration that sits on her internal backburner get heated. simmers, then roils, then steams, then bubbles over and hisses when it comes in contact with the heating element. it usually takes a lot to get to that point, but today — still fresh on a new planet and currently pinned down under appraisal and suspicion, holding one of her own internal organ and mildly offended by the term apocolypse virus — the fuse proves short. )
Oh my god, ( she seethes for a moment, eyes rolling skywards and idly hoping for some crisis to spring up in the background of the city to divert this moment. a sinkhole opening up directly beneath her feet would also be preferable.
but when it boils down to the bones of the issue, it isn't really the what of the matter clarke cares about sharing. the explanation could be swift and, if this place proved violent, it'd all spill out in due time anyways. it'd just really, really suck to weather the inevitable follow up questions, the how's and the why's; they're a long, unpleasant story with a lot of side chapters and context that needs to be included, and she just isn't up for spilling all of that just outside the apartment complex entrance. nothing demands she has to, though, and if the basest of facts means she can exit this interaction unbothered, it feels worth it. so with a hard exhale and purposeful blank slate of composure pulled over her scowl, clarke wrenches her eyes back to them. clarke relents. )
Fine. It's really not that complicated. Kidneys filter blood, my blood's black, and that somehow equals — ( she has to consult (aka glance down and really stare) at the jar, then force herself to try and describe the truly off hue; the dark shade, the obviously blackened but still vaguely along the lines of pink-red coloration you'd find in a medical textbook. and ultimately fail to come up with a descriptor better than — )
— purple.
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[ Tim waves a hand towards the diminutive vigilante. It's hard to sell children as vigilantes, so he's being careful in word choice. No cracks about height (glass houses there) and no words like kid. If this is how Damian's choosing to present himself to the others, Tim will help him build up the image.
He's just not sure if he should go all in and ID him as Robin before he's introduced himself. Any lies will compound quickly, making it much harder to keep a unified story. ]
Generally have something to hide. The vigilantes in my world would never give out their medical records.
[ Stretching his wrist back to throw the veins in his pale wrist into relief, Tim holds his hand up for her to see. ]
I'm used to red blood and blue veins. Black would be - I don't even know what, but I'm hoping it's not contagious.
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Robin. ( a name, one drake already knew even if he was pretending elsewise. and to pull attention off of drake, given he's feeling a little generous, ) And my medical records are confidental. There were no Elder Gods involved, nor magic, but highly advanced science in a process that had been developed specifically for me. No one else. And I will not be answering further inquiries.
( attention back to the vein sharing going on here - )
The kidney hasn't been exposed to air. If it's a bloodborne pathogen, I haven't been exposed. I could test it. ( i, not we, even if he has full intention of shoving boring tests drake's way to stare at. ) But she isn't giving off any indicators she's lying either.
( damian isn't superman, but he knows how to spot a liar. at least one who isn't trained (well) to hide when they're spouting nonsense. it doesn't mean he's inclined to believe her, damian can fool a lie detector just fine. it just means he has less reason to believe she may be a carrier for any unfortunate diseases. )
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damian has at least offered confirmation that it was indeed science that got him up and walking after what sounded like a debilitating injury. and under normal circumstances clarke would have been downright excited to discuss medical advances; there is a perpetual what if surrounding the idea of throwing herself back into her roots, hitting the books, and one day following in footsteps her mother had set in place for her which inevitably lead to medicine. and maybe, if one day raven reyes showed up here, clarke could offer more than sympathy for the way she still limped on those braces. but robin has preemptively shut that down, and that's fine because she's too busy defensively bristling, hands too full to bust out a notepad and pen.
likewise, tim has offered out his wrist but she doesn't so much as glance downward. )
I am very familiar with what normal veins look like, mine started off that way too. ( ...girl that does not really sell the this isn't an infectious disease narrative, follow up quickly — )
Look, it isn't any sort of pathogen. It's not contagious. I did this to myself, my world's version of highly advanced science. ( ...that sure is one way to put it clarke, okay. )
I have no reason to lie to either of you. And if all of that isn't enough and you still feel the need to test something, at least ask nicely.
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I'm sorry. I have a big reason to be worried about getting sick. No spleen, remember? I don't want to end up back in the "hospital" again with robo-doctors. So this is an open-ended question that you don't have to answer, but if you want to help me feel a little less freaked out than I have been the past few days, I'd appreciate it. Doesn't have to be now.
[ Doesn't have to be with an audience. Tim can fill Damian in later. ]
In the meantime, how do we know this is done? If we solved the reverse treasure hunt?
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