Checking on Munchie (Lance)

[Jordan Maxwell]

Jordan left Dru, though they spoke she found herself still goin over the conversation. However, for the tome being. It was time to check on her mouse. After all she did hand him over to The Doctor. She knew his name but she just liked he way the doctor sounded. Jordan stood outside and watched him work in silence. When he don't turn around right away she knocked on the wall next do the door. "Hey Doc, how is everything going?" She asked hopefully. She wanted to hear good news and more than that she wanted to hear about Munchie. The poor mouse she gave him.

[Lance Howe]

Lance was engrossed in his work. The mouse was currently under the effects of the drug and he was closely monitoring it for any changes, particularly detrimental, to its health. Needless to say he wasn't expecting or paying attention for any visitors though it wasn't entirely surprising to see the mechanic there. Any visitor would either be inquiring to the progress on the drug or the status of the mouse. Jordan was the later category, a woman who made friends with all the pests on board. The doctor could only imagine how such a gentle person dealt with all the violence that preceded his arrival on the ship.

"Well, things are good." he replied only briefly glancing back toward her before returning to his work. "Everything is working so far with the administration. Waiting now for long term effects and ease of recovery. If all goes well it's just a pinprick then a prolonged but painless state of paralysis. So far everything is going well." If only a test on one mouse equated to a safe clinical study for humans. It was certainly better than no testing though.

[Jordan Maxwell]

Jordan listened and smiled as he spoke, she entered slowly not wanting to touch anything in the room, but also wanting to check on her mouse. Standing near Lance she looked over his shoulder, trying not to interfear. "Doc, when you are free, I was wonderin' " She paused, did she really want to bring someone else into her mess? What choice did she have?

"Is there anythin' you can give me for sleepin'? I..... I've been havin' nightmares, and I can't seem ta' sleep." It was more than just sleeping, most people hadn't noticed the suttle changes in her personality, but that was fine. She just needed to sleep and push the rest aside, just pretend like nothing happened.

[Lance Howe]

Now this the doctor hadn't been expecting. He was actually being treated like a regular doctor instead of a battlefield surgeon or a chemist creating a toxin. It took him a second to switch his mindset back to doctor.

"Of course there are things I can give you for sleeping." he replied, giving her a stern look. "But I wouldn't do so lightly. Any drug induced sleep can negatively effect your ability to wake when needed on the ship not to mention the incredibly high rate of dependency on sleep aids once they are started. If it can be avoided at all then you should try another way to sleep."

It went against doctor-patient confidentiality to bring anyone else into the mix but then again Lance was not a licensed doctor and had taken no oaths. Considering the situation it seemed that it would be best to have the captain sign off on any prescriptions he wrote for crew that might have such side effects.

[Jordan Maxwell]

"Doc..." She just looked at him for a moment then back down at the ground, she wasn't sure what to say, or do. She started iching at the burn on her left hand.

"I don't know how another option would work, I...." She looked up at him again, she was having a hard time, but perhaps he was right, she had never taken anything before, why should she start now? Other than she was tired, and was having a hard time even thinking stright. "Nevermind Doc, pertend I didn't say anything." Her attention went back to her hand.

[Lance Howe]

His words of caution had apparently worked wonders to shut down the idea... maybe a little too much. Lance sighed and then added, "Listen. Give it a couple days trying more natural means of trying to sleep and even just letting time help settle you. If it's not getting even slightly better then come back and I'll see if I can start you on something light."

[Trace Kennet]

Trace cursed himself as he made his way towards the infirmary. "Stupid stupid stupid." He muttered. Why had he hit that wall? Because now his hand was screaming at him, and he needed to get it looked at. As he walked up to the infirmary, he wasn't really paying attention, and he didn't really see anyone there. "Doc, you here?" He asked, as he entered, "I seem to have hurt my hand a little, and I was wondering..." His voice trailed off as he realized the Doctor was not alone. "I see you are busy." Seeing Jordan, Trace missed a beat, and then spoke "Never mind, I'll come back later." He glanced at Jordan, opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and simply turned to leave.

[Jordan Maxwell]

Jordan hopped off the bed and grabbed Trace's arm. "You should have him look at it Trace. I'll be back later." She smiled at Lance then looked up at Trace concerned. She pulled him into the room gently then stepped out. "Take care of munchie alright? I'm going to start dinner."

[Trace Kennet]

Trace was about to argue when Jordan grabbed his arm and ended all disputes before they really began. Trace mumbled something about not wanting to interrupt, but he didn't really have any excuse. He simply tried his best to smile, and then watched her go. "Sorry, if i interrupted anything," He said looking towards the doctor, "I can leave if you need to work on something else."
Trace hadn't really spent much actual time talking to Lance, so he didn't know what else to say. He lust waited by the door, unsure of what to do.

[Lance Howe]

Lance wasn't sure of what kind of drama he walked into on this ship but there was certainly a bit of it going around even from the brief interaction between Jordan and Trace. "No, she was just checking on her mouse, crunchy or whatever she calls it. I'm a doctor first, a concocter of toxins second. Let me have a look." he replied to Trace once they were alone. "I assume you sustained this injury while routinely flying the ship." Lance could tell the wound was self inflicted, probably from punching a hard object. The only real question was whether it was intentional or if he had simply missed his real target... not that a fist fight on the ship was any better.

[Trace Kennet]

Trace winced as he held out his hand for the man to inspect. "His name is Munchie," Said Trace, unsure of why he was annoyed by the doctor not knowing. "And no," He continued, "Not during routine piloting, I uhhh." He stopped to come up with an excuse, "I bumped into the wall." He knew the doctor wasn't convinced, but he didn't care. There was no ruttin way he was going to tell Lance about what had just happened.
Trace tried to keep his mind off of the pain in his hand, but it was getting to be quite noticeable. "You don't suppose it is broken doc?" He asked, "It hurts like hell."

[Lance Howe]

"Yeah, bumping into walls fist first so hard that you think it could be broken... if only I were eighteen again." Not only was the excuse hard to believe but the delivery was awful, as if the kid either hadn't told a lie in his life or wasn't even trying. "Broken? No, apparently you're not that strong or you just weren't mad enough for that." Lance explained as he got some materials out. "Superficial damage of course, likely bruising underneath and maybe some hairline cracks in the bone but nothing too serious. Not much surface area on each carpal so they're hard to seriously break without trying. This will however hurt." The doctor gave the warning just milliseconds before pouring disinfectant on the wounds.

[Trace Kennet]

Trace knew he was caught, but he hadn't really been trying to convince the doctor, he just didn't want to tell the truth. He was about to speak when Lance dumped the disinfectant on his hand. He yelped, and had to fight very hard to keep from jumping away from the man. "Je shr shuh muh lan dong shi!?" He said, trying not to shout, "Do you want to burn the skin off of me or something?" He was avoiding looking at his hand, certain it would be smoking and melting if he looked. "Is this my punsihment for lying?" He was not sure why he said that, "Fine i punched the wall, happy? Now quick before my hand gets burned off."

Je shr shuh muh lan dong shi- What is this garbage

[Lance Howe]

"That was more for my entertainment than anything else... it's also necessary to keep this procedure quick and easy rather than a little micro surgery on your hand." Lance replied, happy he got a truthful answer and also happy he got to see the kid have a fit over the burning. "And don't be such a baby, I didn't put too much on. The burning should be dying down by now anyway." Once it had completely burned away then Lance would be there with fresh bandages. "Well, we have two choices from here. I can wrap up each finger to try and give you some mobility, though reduced of course, or I can wrap the whole gorram thing together to try and get a better heal. I assume that's your dominant hand though and you need it for piloting."

[Trace Kennet]

"Yeah, you are REAL funny Doc." growled Trace, making a note to get back at him. "Maybe i can punch you a couple times for entertainment." Trace wasn't in the mood for a wise cracking quack, he just wanted to get his hand seen to. "If you could leave me with some mobility, I would be ever so grateful." He said, with some sarcasm, "Considering someone has to fly this ship, and unless you are a pilot AND a doctor, AND a comedian, that someone is me." He knew that his two meetings with Lance had probably left the doc with a fairly low opinion of him, but Trace didn't care. He was furious at himself for losing control, and embarrassed that he was now at the mercy of this man, who evidently found his suffering enjoyable. Although, he was grudgingly forced to admit that now, with the pain from the initial dowsing in antiseptic dying off, his hand already began to feel better. "Thanks," He said, trying to at least show some respect, "For taking the time to help me out." He knew he was in a deep hole, but it didn't hurt to try not to make it any deeper.