AGE PLOT SHENANIGANS

[microbrobotics]

WHO: Everyone and anyone!
WHERE: De Chima, various
WHEN: Around 6 PM EST, March 25th
WHAT: Age plot kickoff!
WARNINGS: Cuteness.

[ LET'S GET THIS PARTY OFFICIALLY STARTED! Opening events so we don't do too much comm flooding (although people are welcome to make their own posts for the event). You're welcome to toplevel with your character if you'd like to have them show up somewhere else for this plot.

Current toplevels:
Spring Festival in a De Chima city park
De Chima #1
De Chima #1, later (Minato)

The age plot will run from March 25th through Sunday, March 29th. More deets available at the plotting post. ]

Comments

[polycrystalline]

[Good, he looks... less like he's going to bolt at any second. Caitlin smiles at him slightly, no judgment, before she glances at the wall and internally winces at the image of developing bones impacting that hard enough to break it.] That's good. But I have a friend who has speed like yours, and he heals very fast but sometimes he hurts himself in ways that need treatment before they can heal properly. Could I take a look at where you hit against the wall? Just in case?

[She's not moving forward until he gives the okay. And possibly cataloging his reactions for a possible future conversation, because he is not reacting the way she would expect any healthy... nine? eight? ... year-old to, let alone what she would expect from Bart.]

[moded]

[The mention of Caitlin knowing someone else with superspeed has Bart's head snapping up, his eyes wide and his mouth open like he wants to ask her who it is, like there are words in him that are just dying to bubble over and spill out-- but he swallows them down before they do.

If there's anything the world he grew up in taught him, it was that staying quiet and keeping his head down was the best way to survive. Drawing attention to himself was just an invitation for the Reach to take him up on one of their ships and stick him in a pod for processing. Experimentation.

Eventually, after picking through the words he'd initially wanted to say and settling on a final product, he speaks.]

You know someone who can move like me?

[And then, after a moment's hesitation, he steps forward, making sure he's moving at normal human speeds (even if the extra care he's taking kind of makes it seem like he's even more wary). He reaches up, pushing back his bangs, and turns his head to the side slightly, so Caitlin can see the bruise and bump that's already fading back.

His shoulder feels pretty bad, too, but he's not going to offer up that one just yet. He's still not sure how much he trusts this girl.]

I think I'll be fine in a few minutes.

[polycrystalline]

[She waits patiently for him to ask the question he so clearly wants to ask and move forward before she does a quick examination. She doesn't have a light to check his eyes but his pupils look okay. The place where he hit his head isn't bleeding, and it looks like it's been there for much longer than the couple minutes it's actually been. Which is just as she expected.

She's not sure right now if she wants to tell him she knows his grandfather. Best to keep this as uncomplicated as possible and not risk losing the little bit of trust she's gained.] I do. I'm his doctor.

[moded]

[With the amount of times Bart suffers whiplash and hits his head and blacks out for a while back home, his only saving grace is his speed and ability to heal. But at the very least, the longer Caitlin's up close and peering at him and not doing something weird or threatening, the more the kid's relaxing.]

A doctor? [He drops his hand, letting his hair flop back into place as he blinks up at the girl, the wariness aaaalmost gone.] Never talked to a doctor.

[polycrystalline]

[She smiles in a way that she hopes is reassuring and kindly.]

You have now. My specialty is genetics and bio-engineering, but I have a more general medical degree. Was there anything you wanted to ask a doctor if you met one?

[moded]

[He takes a while to think about that, stuffing his hands into his sweatshirt pocket and letting them curl into tense little fists. A way for him to both express and hide his slight nervousness.]

... I guess not, no. Just- [He raises and lowers a shoulder in what he hopes is a loose shrug.] Doctors would be nice back home.

[After all, sick and injured meat wasn't particularly useful meat.]