lostcarnival | (no subject)

Entry tags:

ginko,
herbert west

(no subject)

Who: Herbert and Ginko
When: B1: D1, late night (an edit, I messed up on the timeline)
Where: The Medical Tent
What: Herbert is tired of waking up tired. Ginko is in the medical tent. Reagent.
Warnings: Syringes, drug addiction.

Immediately after being given his supplies and a trailer in which to use them, Herbert retreated for a day to try and focus, try and accurately formulate his reagent. He has the steps memorised without his notes, at least, thankfully. He's made it enough times for that much. But his hands are shaky and his head aches and he finds himself having to write a checklist out to be certain that he hasn't lost track midway through and missed or doubled a step.

It's very late into the next night when he's finally satisfied by what he's created: glowing green serum that he transfers into a small plastic bottle from the beaker, diluting it properly for his personal use. He basks in the glow and the satisfaction for a moment before he realises he's neglected to ask for a syringe.

No matter, he decides (after a panicked moment of clutching at his skull, wondering if it would be worthwhile to drink it, wondering what other methods he could live through, an eyedropper? Anal membranes?) there is a medical tent. And not only is it bound to have hypodermic needles, he is, as far as he can determine, the one person qualified to be in that tent. It will draw no attention for him to do anything in there, and is therefore ideal, if he must be in public for this.

His walk across the Carnival to the Medical Tent is uneventful, but when he enters it, despite the late hour, he's not alone, at least not among non patients.

"Wh-what are. You doing, here?" His voice is raw, stilted. A harsh whisper. He's at the end of his rope. It doesn't stop him, though. Already, he's walking in, rummaging through supplies and drawers with a certain amount of desperation.

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What Ginko is doing, specifically, is twofold: Organizing medical supplies, and examining what samples have been collected from the poisoning victims so far. Absorbed in his work as he is, he isn't paying enough attention to anticipate anyone else coming in.

Ginko's ears flick upward at Herbert's voice, and he spins to face him. He doesn't recognize the guy... presumably, he's a new recruit. "--Oh. Hey, I'm... working on treatment research for the poison. Uh... did you need something?"

Oh. He'd thought--but then, one need not be a doctor to be a scientist, or choose to specialise here, for whatever reason. He stares at Ginko for a brief, hard moment, and then goes back to rummaging around.

"Th-the stone, yes? Fascinating, really, I've never seen anything like it! or,w-well, I wo-hondered, if the cave exacerbated? Things?" He pants around his words, like it's hard to find the breath for them. "I will--mmg." Breaking off, he puts a hand to the back of his head. No, he can't play this off. It's not worth it. The people here have seen worse, he's sure. "Wheeere are the syringes stored...?"

"Probably... uh." He turns his attention a little more solidly to Herbert, brow furrowing. This guy doesn't seem... okay. Which might just be a facet of how he is, but it might be an indication that something is actually wrong.

"Why do you ask? Is something wrong?"

"Oh--weeell, not wrong precisely." He smiles. It's halfway to a grimace and yet still more authentic than most of his smiles end up being. "Closer tttssshh...to right than they have been for some time!" A moment while he stares hopefully at Ginko and then realises that he hasn't really explained. This prompts some intent fumbling in his pocket to pull out the glowing bottle and hold it up.

"I need one for my serum?"

Yeah, Herbert, that... that made absolutely no sense. And the explanation doesn't... it doesn't explain a lot, but it's something. He nods and opens up a cupboard, sifting through the boxes inside.

"Oh... uh, hang on. Is that some kind of medication?"

Ginko has just presented Herbert with the perfect cover...which means he's torn between explaining his brilliance, and sensibly lying.

He decides to try for both.

"It's a, reanimating serum of my own design, kee-heeps my brain. Sharp. Functional. I... haaad no access to it under the Prince's control..." He hurries over to the cupboard Ginko is looking into, avoiding his elbow but trying to search simultaneously without reaching in. "The Ringmaster gave me my supplies..." His voice cracks and wavers on the last word.

Reanimating serum, brain, and functional are a... concerning combination of words, to say the least. Ginko glances over at Herbert, his ears flicking upward, as he pulls out a box of syringes.

"That... sounds pretty rough. If it's alright for me to ask, what happens without it?"

Herbert gives Ginko a startled look as if he's the deerlike one.

"I... W-well I'm no good to anyone!" He starts to reach and then clenches his fingers, waiting. What if Ginko pulls them away from him? He needs this. People don't understand so often, limited, small-minded. "My mind works, slowly, I... I waste time, I'm--" He cuts off, making a pained noise and pressing fingers into his forehead. It's been days, stressful days. When he straightens out again, he reaches to take the box from Ginko.

So... it sounds like that serum is some kind of performance enhancement, one that this guy has gotten used to relying on - he can't be sure, of course, and is reluctant to assume. But frankly, the way he reacts, as if the need for efficiency should be obvious, only adds to that impression.

It also, honestly, kind of reminds him of Foster.

Ginko frowns, but lets Herbert take the box. However... "You sure you should be administering that yourself? No offense, but you seem kind of..." Overeager? Manic? "Shaky."

Herbert cradles the box to his chest and digs the hypo out, holding it looped in trembling fingers as he impatiently shoves the box back onto the first available shelf space. He's already fumbling the bottle into a proper grip from his previous haphazard clutch before Ginko's words process properly.

"I--" A noise, a voiced sharp breath out. Staring at the bottle he attempts to get the needle through the lid, just to see if he can, the point jouncing off and skittering before he looks up at Ginko again. "Aaare you offering? This isn't...I need it." The last time he got this bad...it was Dan. Dan helped, despite his misgivings. He knew he could trust Dan but he doesn't know about this new stranger.

He has serum back in his trailer if this goes wrong.

"I'll help." It's pretty clear that this is going to happen one way or another, and in that case, Ginko would really rather minimize potential damage. He leans over to pull a couple more containers out of the shelf - a pack of cotton balls, and a bottle of disinfectant.

"Put down the bottle and syringe for now; I understand that you're in a hurry, but we should really clean the skin first."

Completely pausing in his tracks, Herbert gives Ginko an incredibly offended look, with all the remaining dignity he can muster. It's not a lot: his hair is wild, he's sweating (tinged very slightly green, at least Ginko can assume it's just a change) and, well. The general desperation. All the same, drawn up and only a bit hoarse he manages to say, "Of course I know that, I'm a medical student!"

His offence at being taken for a fool drives him to look further on his own, grabbing a tourniquet, rechecking the needle and finally unbuttoning and messily pulling up his left sleeve.

"I generally inject, into, the veins of the cubital fossa?" He's drifted back to urgency now, and out of his brief attempt at dignity, fumbling the tourniquet around his upper arm and attempting to tie it himself. It's a simple band, intended to be used on patients, so it's presenting him with a great deal of difficulty.

"Alright, I hadn't known that, but good to know." Ginko's tone when he answers isn't even really passive-aggressive so much as just... completely flat.

"The... right." Ginko squints a little, not familiar with the term itself - but he can guess what Herbert means from where he's placing the tourniquet. Which, by the way, is also a little concerning. Really, what is in this stuff.

He sets aside his supplies and goes over to help him tie off that band. "This'll probably go faster if you just let me do that."

Herbert's too worked up to notice that Ginko doesn't follow his terminology, which is lucky, or else he'd be abruptly scathing. How dare...Ginko not be officially trained in medicine...or something. As it is, he's mostly a mixture of distracted by his fumbling and oddly mollified by what he takes as Ginko's...apology. It's how he'd do it, so it might as well be to him.

"Oh," he says, looking at Ginko with wide eyes when he starts helping with the tourniquet. "Yes it--should...thanks...?" His right hand gets in the way for a moment longer before he pulls it back to fist it at the hem of his pocket. Now that Herbert's sleeve is rolled up and Ginko is closer, he'll be able to see that Herbert...kind of has track marks...but they're not characterised by bruising or any permanent damage aside from faint puncture marks due to repetition. There must be something weird in this serum.

Let's face it, if Ginko were actually apologetic, it would not have sounded anything like that.

"No problem." If he notices the awkwardness of Herbert's thanks, he doesn't say anything. He just finishes preparing the tourniquet - though his brow furrows for a moment when he catches sight of those marks. He'd expect those not to be quite so... clean, for lack of a better word, especially if Herbert had been trying to administer this stuff himself in the past.

He soaks a cotton ball in disinfectant and finds the right injection point before swiping the swab over the skin. He keeps speaking casually as he does, his eye staying focused on his work. "Mind going into a little more detail about how this serum of yours works? I realize it might not be any of my business, but it doesn't sound quite like anything I've heard of before."

Eyes still wide, intermittently holding his breath and gasping to try and hold himself together, Herbert watches Ginko's hands on his arm. He only looks up when Ginko says "serum", as ever, pinpointed on his own work.

"Mmn," he manages, throat working, "yes-- It's--" His mouth slams shut for a moment, thin and pursed. What can he say that will still get him what he wants? He could trust Dan, even in his reluctance but Ginko is an unknown factor. He'll just try and make it sound useful, he supposes. That should be harmless enough. "My, work...is ooon. Reanimation. This is a diluted solution aaaas. I-hi'm already. Alive..." He smiles, briefly, tremblingly. "It mmmildly moderates my brain chemistry aaand...accentuates my faculties.

So he definitely did not mishear or misinterpret that before. Reanimation, as in bringing the dead back to life.

It... does not strike Ginko as something that someone should necessarily be manufacturing a drug for. He's still not sure how to feel about the Ringmaster's revival eggs, even, and those are just on a pre-planned, case-by-case basis.

But he doesn't know much about why Herbert is making this stuff, or what he plans to do with it (beyond, apparently, injecting himself with a diluted form) so he can't really judge. After all, he does feel that there are cases where it makes sense to bring someone back to life.

In the end, all he says in response is, "I see. That's quite an undertaking." Followed by, "Hold still."

He slides the needle into the vein Herbert had specified, and presses down the plunger. Regardless of the wisdom of his developing this stuff, let alone using it on himself, Ginko isn't sure how much good it would do to deny him the substance now.

Ginko doesn't seem interested, maybe, but he also doesn't seem judgemental, which is...nice? Definitely nice. Herbert thinks he might even be able to trust this one, eventually, that would be nice, so immediately setting up someone here to trust, at least with this, with his secret--

Ginko presses down the plunger and Herbert makes a muffled noise, feeling it rush through his bloodstream, sharp, bright, making things more real, less confused. Reanimating him. He jolts once, stiffening, fists and jaw clenched, arm pulling away from the needle and head tilted back as he emits a sort of strangled wail. It hurts now, pulled tense and twitching, ~~birth is always painful~~ but he knows it gets better.

It already has, really. He relaxes, breathing deep and feels correct again, driven and detached as he lowers his chin.

Let's face it, sounding completely neutral is one of Ginko's most useful skills - and it's not even too hard in this case, since his feelings on the subject basically even out.

Herbert's reaction to the injection is... something. A few things, actually, one of them being kind of disturbing. But he's seen worse, so he holds steady - pulls the needle out as soon as he can do so safely, sets it aside with his eye locked on Herbert, focused and curious.

"Better?"

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