[He glances, incredulous, from Emily's face to the strange device between them-- archaic to the station, certainly, but nearer to either of them than anything else here.]
May I?
[If she'll allow it, he takes the syringe, turning it gingerly over in his hands and observing the liquid's color and viscosity curiously.]
[the viscosity is closest, perhaps, to intravenously given painkillers like morphine. there is no contamination, but the liquid isn't transparent - only if one squints can they faintly see through. the syringe itself is a little heavier than standard - more durable, for what it has been through.]
It's not a single dose. This amount could handle...I'd say about four people, provided their injuries weren't critical. Anything that needs immediate attention, it takes more doses. I can't extract what's inside - I've tried, and it's inert, though the facilities I know are far less advanced than what we have here.
But the most curious thing about it is that it looks to refill itself when I'm not paying attention to it. Not once have I been able to catch it.
Before I came to the Ximilia, I'd say all of this was preposterous. Now, I've seen so many impossible things, I'm prepared to believe most anything. This tool of yours is invaluable.
[He passes it back to her, still looking somewhat baffled over the seemingly miraculous syringe.]
Where on Earth did you acquire such an object...?
[It's a question murmured almost rhetorically, but he won't be opposed if she really does have an answer.]
[much as she trusts him, to explain her feelings of being out of time, to perhaps one day talk about the idea of not going back, that part of her heart doesn't unlock easily. it can't. it's too close to the worst things that have happened.]
I'm just grateful it came with me. If it helps save even one person...
[He's long since given up trying to truly comprehend the most fantastical aspects of the lives of the people he has met here. At times, his own experiences feel so small and mundane in comparison.]
Thank you for telling me. Would you prefer I keep this in confidence until we're certain it is needed?
There's no need. I don't see a reason to keep this secret - not when the knowledge could help others. I simply don't know the best way to let this information be dispersed. And again, I'm only one person. Should disaster strike, everyone's skills are needed to tend to whoever might need our aid.
[tucking the syringe back in her bag, its weight is a solid comfort.]
I'll at least ensure the infirmary staff is aware.
[And just like that, the device is put away innocuously enough.]
We have a good track record, I think. To my knowledge, we've never had any fatalities on the team. I'm sure that syringe will go very far in keeping it that way.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
May I?
[If she'll allow it, he takes the syringe, turning it gingerly over in his hands and observing the liquid's color and viscosity curiously.]
This amount of liquid: is it a single dose?
no subject
[the viscosity is closest, perhaps, to intravenously given painkillers like morphine. there is no contamination, but the liquid isn't transparent - only if one squints can they faintly see through. the syringe itself is a little heavier than standard - more durable, for what it has been through.]
It's not a single dose. This amount could handle...I'd say about four people, provided their injuries weren't critical. Anything that needs immediate attention, it takes more doses. I can't extract what's inside - I've tried, and it's inert, though the facilities I know are far less advanced than what we have here.
But the most curious thing about it is that it looks to refill itself when I'm not paying attention to it. Not once have I been able to catch it.
no subject
[He passes it back to her, still looking somewhat baffled over the seemingly miraculous syringe.]
Where on Earth did you acquire such an object...?
[It's a question murmured almost rhetorically, but he won't be opposed if she really does have an answer.]
no subject
[much as she trusts him, to explain her feelings of being out of time, to perhaps one day talk about the idea of not going back, that part of her heart doesn't unlock easily. it can't. it's too close to the worst things that have happened.]
I'm just grateful it came with me. If it helps save even one person...
no subject
[He's long since given up trying to truly comprehend the most fantastical aspects of the lives of the people he has met here. At times, his own experiences feel so small and mundane in comparison.]
Thank you for telling me. Would you prefer I keep this in confidence until we're certain it is needed?
no subject
[tucking the syringe back in her bag, its weight is a solid comfort.]
no subject
[And just like that, the device is put away innocuously enough.]
We have a good track record, I think. To my knowledge, we've never had any fatalities on the team. I'm sure that syringe will go very far in keeping it that way.