with_discipline | 058

Oh, so that's why he didn't seem to say much. Hm.

Alright. When will he be avaliable?

Indeed. Soon, I believe; he is in the infirmary at present.

Oh, alright. I think I'll be fine without him, but the information's appreciated.

[He really wasn't expecting to find out quite so soon what it's like. :|]

Yeah. Been for a while. Don't think I was--y'know, out. For too long. [He sounds like he's going to say more, but then doesn't.]

[He sounds reasonably composed, if tired. Also, his voice is a bit scratchy, as if he were just recovering from a cold. This is because the Master choked him. :|]

[Way to be, Master. :| There's concern in her voice, if he really looks for it.] That is usually the way of things, here. You were assigned a new inmate; I've informed him that you are indisposed.

Of course.

Oh. Thanks. It's--Ardent, right? I got his, y'know. Got his file. In my inbox. Haven't read it yet, though. What's he like?

[It's been a bit more than 24 hours since he was revived, and he doesn't feel quite as crappy anymore as he did when he woke up--hence the checking his communicator for new messages--but he doesn't really feel like digging his way through a long inmate file. Or like looking for concern in T'Pol's voice. It's cool, he's glad you called even if he can't tell that you're concerned.]

Ardent, yes. Our conversation was short; he was polite, and asked when you would again be available.

[He doesn't respond for a few moments, trying to get his somewhat sluggish brain to come up with an answer.] I dunno. I'm not-- I mean, shouldn't be too long. I think. Should it?

[He has no experience with this death toll thing. Right now, all he knows is that it's apparently pretty miserable.]

I told him you would return soon. [Oh, so miserable, Ray. She nods.] The death toll usually lasts a week, depending on the...circumstances. [By which she means how he died.]

Circumstances. [He can't stop himself from repeating her choice of expression in a somewhat laconic tone. Circumstances. He supposes that's one word for it.]

Yes. [She falls silent, debating between letting him rest and making certain he's all right.] Is there anything you require?

[When she pauses, he stays silent, too, his eyes closed. Man, he's tired. T'Pol speaking up makes him blink his eyes open, and then wince when the glare of the infirmary ceiling lights cut into his still-sensitive right eye.] Yeah. Actually, yeah. Could you, I mean, would you mind getting me my shades? They're in my room. Sunglasses, I mean.

Certainly. I'll bring them to you shortly. Is your room unlocked? [The concern's...really just there in her agreeing so easily.]

I don't-- [He's trying to remember if he locked it when he left to deal with the level four situation. If he didn't, it's probably been robbed empty and vandalized by now. Sigh. Ray hates this boat.] I think so, yeah. If not, never mind. 's not, y'know. Not that important.

I'll find out. [She took her communicator with her as she left her room, heading right for Ray's. If it was locked, she might end up visiting him anyway.]

Thanks. 'preciate it.

[Unless T'Pol keeps talking to him while she's on her way to his room, he won't be saying anything more, at least not until she shows up in the infirmary, if she does. And his room is indeed locked. Silver lining?]

[Slim silver lining. T'Pol doesn't keep up the conversation, mostly because she isn't sure what to say. After checking his room, she heads for the infirmary. It doesn't take long to find his bed, though she isn't sure if he's sleeping or not. When she speaks, it's quietly.]

Ray?

[He's got his eyes closed, but he's not sleeping, just resting his eyes. Well, eye. One of the infirmary staff overheard him asking for his sunglasses and offered to put a gauze patch over his right eye. It doesn't make him look like a pirate at all, though.]

[T'Pol speaking up makes him start slightly, and he looks around, squinting in her direction.]

Wha--oh. Hey.

[He shifts, trying somewhat awkwardly to sit up. A hand goes to his hair, and he vaguely tries to make it at least lie flat. He doesn't look too bad, though; he just hasn't shaved in a while. Also, T'Pol might pick up a bit of a sick-smell--not noticeable by human senses, but it'll register with a Vulcan.]

[It registers, and despite her nostrils flaring, she found a seat to pull over. She crossed her legs, taking in the eye patch and the smell, and suppressing the little frown that pulled at the corners of her mouth.]

How are you feeling?

I-- [He sets out to say "I'm alright", but then breaks off and admits instead,] Not too great. But it's just, y'know. Temporary.

[At least that's what they tell him.]

[She nods slowly, looking around to see if he's got all the things he needs. Besides shades.] You'll likely be able to leave by the end of the week. [She paused a moment, before adding,] The Master is in Zero.

[He does have everything he needs. There's a basket containing three blueberry muffins sitting on the nightstand. Those, unlike most other things in here, smell good. A woman named Piper brought them by earlier. Ray appreciated it, but he hasn't touched them, as he's pretty sure eating anything more solid than cereal with milk would end badly at the moment.]

[When T'Pol mentions the Master, Ray's expression grows more focused and closes down, his lips forming a thin line. It's a moment before he responds.] Is that what he calls himself?

[Probably a good idea, really. The last time she was going through the death toll, she had some sweet tea and threw up. Food's not very fun on the death toll. Watching his expression shift, T'Pol cocks her head to the side slightly; she meant it to be comforting, but apparently that didn't work out.]

Yes. He's been on board before.

I didn't know that. [His tone is tense, maybe even a little bit resentful.]

[Sorry, T'Pol. His hostility isn't directed at her, at least not exclusively. It's just that almost everyone who's come to visit him so far has told him off for not waiting for back-up. Maybe if he had known who the guy was, what he was capable of, he wouldn't have gone in unarmed and on his own. Thanks for waiting until after the fact to let him know about this, Barge.]

[Luckily, she isn't sensitive about that sort of thing.] He left some time ago. I don't believe anyone thought he'd return. [She pauses, cocking both eyebrows just for a moment before they settle again.] It's likely they hoped he wouldn't.

I realize this must be...unsettling for you.

[No kidding.]

I just-- [He lets his head fall back against his pillow and exhales, frustrated, closing his eyes. He would like that headache to go away now.] I just don't know what-- I mean, what's his deal? [He blinks his one good eye open and peers at T'Pol sideways.] Do you know?

[There's a tiny frown between her eyebrows, just for a moment.] He's a Time Lord, from the same planet as the Doctors. I don't know why he acts the way he does.

Time Lord. [Ray frowns.] You mean he's an alien? [And here he was thinking, after having made T'Pol's acquaintance, that aliens weren't as bad as late 20th century media made them sound.]

He is. [Some of the species out there really aren't that great. Like Klingons. Not so great. She lapses into silence, not sure what to say on the subject.]

I should let you rest.

Hm? Oh. [He's momentarily distracted there, having a miserable, everyone-on-this-ship-is-nuts-or-an-alien moment of overwhelming homesickness. He doesn't even remember why he came here in the first place. It must've seemed like a good idea at the time. If that was it, boy was he ever wrong about that one.] Yeah. I mean, if you've got, you know, stuff . . . [He trails off, not entirely sure whether he wants T'Pol to stay or to go, and trying to hide how emotional he's feeling all of a sudden.]

[Oh, emotions. She shifts slightly in her chair, watching him for a moment before glancing away.]

I could stop by again later, after you've rested.

[He can tell he's making her uncomfortable, so he blinks a few times, suppressing this feeling of desperately not wanting to be here, at least for the moment. It's not like it's helping anything, anyway.]

Yeah. I mean, sure. Only if you want to, though. I'm--I'll be fine.

[He gives her a slight smile that tries to be reassuring and fails due to looking pretty wobbly around the edges. He is tired, and doing this whole getting emotional thing in front of T'Pol, of all people, is kind of awkward. So yeah. He thinks he does want her to leave. He doesn't want her to think that he didn't appreciate her coming to see him, either, though, so he looks around and gestures vaguely at the muffin basket.]

D'you want a muffin? They're blueberry. Someone dropped 'em off earlier, but I--well, y'know. Take 'em. If you want them.

[Glancing at the muffins, T'Pol uncrosses her legs and rises smoothly, shaking her head slightly.] Thank you, but no. [She didn't know what exactly went into the making of muffins, but she didn't really want to risk it.] Perhaps one of the infirmary staff will enjoy them.

[She hesitated for a moment, looking for something to say or do, but nothing came to mind. T'Pol inclined her head slightly.] I - hope you're well soon, [she said, before turning to go.]

Thanks. [He looks after her as she leaves. When she's just out the door, he remembers that he never asked her about the shades. She didn't bring them with her, so his room was probably locked. That's one good thing, at least.]

[He turns onto his side and pulls the blankets up almost all the way over his head. It's warm down here, quiet and dark, and he closes his eyes, trying to empty his mind. He thought he would have to take a moment to deal with feeling so damn out of place, but turns out that he's too tired for that right now. Only a few minutes after T'Pol left, Ray's already asleep.]

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