tampered | (no subject)

When; Saturday, 10/27
Rating; Unknown, but Circus-related body horror in many threads
Characters; Bruce Banner, Luke, Serrure, Sif, Asami Sato, open to anyone in City Solutions or with a good reason to be there
Summary; Bruce has ended up treating several of the Circus' victims and now they're cluttering up his lab and apartment. Open post for people to visit Luke, Serrure, and Asami or pester Bruce (and possibly Sif)
Log;

Bruce's lab and apartment hadn't been intended as a makeshift hospital ward, but there they were. He'd set Asami up in his bedroom and Luke and Serrure were still kept in separate rooms to keep their magnetism from dragging their wounded bodies back together.

He's immediately available by network, but at the moment he's in his kitchen brewing up some chamomile tea. More accurately the water's heating and he has his forehead pressed against the stainless steel door of his fridge.

[ooc: Just set up threads for the various temporary residents for easy visitation.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She makes a choked noise somewhere in her throat, and rolls her eyes.]

Please spare the details. I should like to think all Sifs are not the same.

Oh, they're not, but. I've the names.

And in your head they shall remain.

Yes, I did...I'd thought you'd say that.

You are too...what is the vernacular for this state you are in again?

High. Bruce says it's high.

[And yet you are low on a bed. Welp, language.] You are too high to be making passes.

I don't think so, what really changes?

Your judgement, that I am aware?

I don't know, perhaps, but I always like you, you know. I'm not...I don't become impartial, high. I'm probably more me. It's. Well, my head, obviously, all of it. I like when your eyebrow does that thing, the quirk of it. You.

The quirk - [She's quirking it now, isn't she? She stops, brows furrowed together, then raised high, as if she's trying very very hard not to do the quirking thing.

And failing.]

Oh yes, Sif, look at you, proud and fierce like...like a hunting hawk. I would be your hawk, if you asked.

[A HUNTING HAWK. Well that gets her laughing, an honest laugh from the belly. He is absolutely ridiculous. And high.

Once the laughter dies, though, she pats his hand again.] Alas I must fly now.

[He laughs with her, not at all put out by her laughing at him, and pats her hand patting his.]

I suppose you must, if you must. We ought to spend...I mean, another time, right?

[Another smile, slightly fainter and less honest, as if to say who knows, and just like that, she pulls her hands from his. Just like that, the moment's declared over.]

Get well soon.

I shall, er... Attempt to acquiesce to your command, fair peregrine lady, mm, a falcon, actually, I think, a peregrine does suit best. Especially as you might do your best to eat ravens.

I best leave before you carry on with the list and I become a peacock for whatever reason.

You are nota peafowl. Have you seen peahens? Drab!

[She turns around with a shake of her head and a laugh, though the genuineity of it is left for grabs. This whole conversation has been very disquietting, so she is going to keep her word and leave.

With a wave over her shoulder.] Till the next time, Luke.