Martin Darkov - 8th generation (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theguideless) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-04-25 07:31 am
theguideless) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-04-25 07:31 am
rocks rocks rocks
Date & Time: 4/24, late afternoon/early evening? whenever this joint closes mang
Location: Outside the clinic
Characters: John Watson + Martin Darkov
Summary: Marvel at how one boy can make asking a favor tooth-pullingly awkward
Warnings: 800 apologies for no reason
Martin woke up early enough to be late for the day, as his sleep pattern encouraged and practically needed on the sunniest of days. If ever he needed reminders he was nowhere near Olvoski, he had to just take a glance outside and see how close the sun was in Exsilium. Summer was never so warm where he was from, though it was still a kind of spring there. He had hardly thought of it being any hotter until that excursion in time.
And that was why he'd stopped moving altogether, only to be so repulsed by his inaction that he moved doubly so. Practice. Fight. Make himself better, stronger. Faster. Not for the sake of the Initiative's missions, but for his own. They'd told the other Martin – the better Martin – time stood still at home. There was a chance, then. If he could make himself better here, he could survive back home. Just enough to save her, and that'd be perfect.
He hit a speedbump very early, however. It was hardly so simple as taking the weapon and practicing as others would; waste had to be managed, and it wasn't something he could do without a little help. His supply had been running long before arriving at the Initiative; how would he have known to stock up?
That not knowing was what brought him to the clinic near its close. Not that he knew that; there was still a little light out, wasn't there? That meant people were still awake.
Location: Outside the clinic
Characters: John Watson + Martin Darkov
Summary: Marvel at how one boy can make asking a favor tooth-pullingly awkward
Warnings: 800 apologies for no reason
Martin woke up early enough to be late for the day, as his sleep pattern encouraged and practically needed on the sunniest of days. If ever he needed reminders he was nowhere near Olvoski, he had to just take a glance outside and see how close the sun was in Exsilium. Summer was never so warm where he was from, though it was still a kind of spring there. He had hardly thought of it being any hotter until that excursion in time.
And that was why he'd stopped moving altogether, only to be so repulsed by his inaction that he moved doubly so. Practice. Fight. Make himself better, stronger. Faster. Not for the sake of the Initiative's missions, but for his own. They'd told the other Martin – the better Martin – time stood still at home. There was a chance, then. If he could make himself better here, he could survive back home. Just enough to save her, and that'd be perfect.
He hit a speedbump very early, however. It was hardly so simple as taking the weapon and practicing as others would; waste had to be managed, and it wasn't something he could do without a little help. His supply had been running long before arriving at the Initiative; how would he have known to stock up?
That not knowing was what brought him to the clinic near its close. Not that he knew that; there was still a little light out, wasn't there? That meant people were still awake.
no subject
no subject
Well, that wasn't nearly as bad as Martin had thought! Bad tastes? He could handle that in a pinch, certainly. He already did enough of that.
"That's fine," he mumbled, settling the case into one hand while the other patted down and pulled open a pocket on his vest. "I'll remember."
He stopped, halfway pocketing the thing before he remembered the manners he had forgotten in that moment. Face pinking, he looked back up.
"And...I mean, thank you. Sir. This helps a lot. A lot. Thank you." He briefly pressed his lips together into a thin line, trying to think fast.
"Uhm...How do I...I mean, is there something I have to trade for it?"
no subject
..Trade? Ah. "Oh no, don't worry about it. You need it so keep it. You don't need to give me anything for it." Truthfully people would pay for medication, but the Initiative are already paying the clinic for doing this. He feels he doesn't need to charge everyone or for everything that happens here. Sometimes, it feels better just to help out like this than be a doctor who does the job and charge then carry on daily like that.
no subject
Martin's face, all red, pulled a worried, embarrassed expression, as though he'd definitely expected to be a bother, to somehow make up for it if he could. It wasn't normal, taking things from people. Non-Darkovs.
The case went quickly into his pocket, then. He looked up, shoulders lifting with a deep breath, and he nodded.
"Thank you, sir. Doctor, I mean." His head dipped down. "You're...very generous. Thank you."
no subject
His gaze is more steady now as he tries to hold Martin's gaze. "All right?"
no subject
He started backing away, head dipping down in a little bow. "I...I should go. But thank you."
no subject
And adding a bit quickly, "Watch out for the door." Cause you know, you're backing up into it.
no subject
Good advice. Martin started to turn and startled at the sight of the door, shuffling back a little to open that up before going any further. Embarrassed, he slipped out with only a few muttered sounds following him out.