Routine Check Up (open)

[Aelius]

The hospital; once a place of healing and life, now fallen to the hands of time. It, like most everything else, had not be spared by the war. Even this place, where children once took their first breaths of life, and loved ones were snatched from the jaws of death, had fallen into decay, slowly being reclaimed by the earth.

That made it the perfect place for this particular stitchpunk to call home. What better place for a medic than a hospital? Granted, the air of health and healing had long been gone from the building. Well, beggars can't be choosers.

What he even enjoyed more than the what this building stood for, was the fact it was isolated, and rarely received visitors. How many humans met their ends here? How many left screaming, bleeding, crying? Some stitchpunks believed this building housed the ghosts of those humans, left behind after death.

Not that it mattered to him. Whether he believed it or not, he wasn't entirely sure, but he figured as long as he kept to himself, he wouldn't be a bother to anyone, including the dead.

Outside, a soft blanket of snow had began to cover the earth. The sun was blocked from view, only enough light breaking through the thick cloud to light the world with a drowsy grey light. These were some of Aelius' favorite days. Few dolls like to come out in the snow, that meant less for him to do, and less he would be bothered while partaking in his favorite activity: sleeping.

His soft breathing, and the occasional snore, were the only sounds that could be heard in the corpse of a building. He'd taken the first room of the building, a small cubicle that likely once served as a front desk, as his room. The tiny room was crowded with various items, some stacked to provide shelves for others. Books, tools, chemicals, paper, ink, oil, all scattered throughout the room, save for in the very middle, were the only item was a large white cotton blanket wadded on the floor, and the white aged stitchpunk asleep in it's creases.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

How many times did he need to say it? He HATED the snow. As the figure padded into the building, shaking off the snow, he looked about. Dreary, utterly dilapidated, and above all, abandoned. The place was clearly out of use, and, judging by the dust, rarely disturbed.

Perfect. He stepped in, his feet clacking quietly upon the ground, already identifying any possible locations of threats. Aside from all the ink pots and general refuse on the ground, the hallways would need some basic trapping to dissuade approachers, and-

A white blanket on the front desk. Sirens went off, and Ulysses was into battle mode in an instant. A blanket didn't mean a threat, but it meant something. And, as he moved closer, his combat knife drawn, he was ready. The approach was quick, and precise; one grappling hook later, and he was in front of the blanket. The sound of snores struck him, but it didn't stop him from pulling the blanket off to reveal-

An old rag-doll. Elderly, clearly asleep, and unprepared for anything. The younger ragdoll shook his head.

[Aelius]

A soft sound that seemed like a cross between a moan and a sigh slipped from the blanket. Something inside shifted around a bit, before settling once more. This stitchpunk was buried in the blanket, only the top of his head visible, his stringy black hair sticking out of the fold under which he was hidden. The doll's white skin seemed to blend in with the fabric of the blanket. He seemed completely unaware of his visitor, lost in a deep, comfortable sleep...

[Ulysses-Σ47]

He was old. That didn't make him a non-threat. Ulysses wasn't about to execute him in his sleep; he had no real reason to. Nevertheless, he still needed to ensure that there would be NO trouble. After all, if the sellsword were to simply put his trust in this stitch punk, and fall asleep, what was to say that he wouldn't wake up and have a go at the merc? And, while it was unlikely that he would pose any actual threat, his paranoia goaded him on.

A swift kick, not damaging, but certainly enough to wake anyone, was delivered to the elderly ragdoll, not moving him, but jolting him, and Ulysses loomed, knife in hand, his gaze inscrutable, hidden by his mask and hood.

[Aelius]

"JESUS!" The older doll shouted as he was forced from his sleep. He sat up, his body now fully revealed. His gaze immediately turned to Ulysses. Oddly, he didn't seem angry or frightened at the stranger in his home, just alarmed. And tired. The skin beneath his optics sagged slightly, given him a worn, exhausted appearance. His voice, however, sounded slightly younger than the rest of his body suggested.

He groaned softly as he rose up, preparing to stand to his feet. He pushed what small amount of hair he had on the left side of his head away from his optics to get a better view of Ulysses. He quickly looked him over, but didn't seem impressed, though the slightest hint of fear appeared in his optics, only for a moment. " You don't need to be so rough, boy... what do you want? I should tell you though, if you wanna rob or kill me, you're not in for much of a treat."

[Nikolai [39]]

There was the sound of hurried footfalls from around the corner and a large, familiar figure burst in, knife at the ready. "I heard noise. What-" He stopped dead as he saw Ulysses. There was a moment of silence and then the large stitchpunk gave a hearty laugh and strode across the room, entrapping Ulysses in a mammoth bear hug. Nikolai dropped Ulysses and gave him a somewhat savage grin. "Is good to see you bratyshka." He clapped Ulysses solidly on the shoulder. "It has been a while, no? What business brings you to the old one?"

He returned his knife to his belt and adjusted his eyepatch. "He is an ally, Aelius." Nikolai said, sitting down on a free chair and tugging at his eyepatch. He looked to be in good shape, certainly not so angry as the time they had first met. He seemed to be in an unusually good mood, as a matter of fact; He looked healthier, as though he had been injected with polish.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

"I heard noise. What-"

Ulysses blinked. He knew that voice. He turned, and was almost immediately faced by his friend, the large Russian. His stance changed, no longer tense, and when his friend hugged him, he returned the embrace. The slap on the shoulder, though, still was a blow. Ulysses still didn't take off his mask, but he grinned equally happily, and sheathed his knife as well.

"It has been a while, no? What business brings you to the old one?" Ulysses nodded at the sentiment, before nodding at the weather outside.

I hate the snow. He watched Nikolai move, and noted his seeming joy. What it was about, he didn't know, but if his friend was happy, that was more than enough for him. He simply turned back to the old man, and saluted, both an introduction and apology in his informal sign language. He quickly turned back to Nikolai, though. He motioned a quick What brings you here? to him.

[Aelius]

Aelius was silent as he watched the two for a moment, letting out a soft sigh. It must be his lucky day, else this new doll might've attacked him, by the look of things. If he was friends with Nikolai, then he mustn't be a threat. Though, Aelius wasn't so used to multiple dolls conversing with each other in his home. It was odd, and somewhat uncomfortable, but he decided against trying to drive them away, for now.

Aelius watched Ulysses' movements carefully. He seemed healthy enough, but he wasn't speaking. Odd. It was likely he'd lost his voice at some point in his life, seeing as how he looked quite familiar with battle. Granted, Aelius knew of dolls who had been created without voice boxes, but they were rare, and this one didn't seem the type. This doll probably had had his broken at some point. Out of habit, Aelius began to look around his room, already searching for the tools he would need to attempt to fix it.

[Neodymium [144]]

((OOC: Ohia, I'm just jumpin' into this thread. Don't know if you dudes had anything planned, but throwing Neo into the mix can only double the fun! Ha ha ha /bricked/))

The small doll perched on the ledge, cloaked in shadow, and watched the stitchpunks below. His copper fingers twitched slightly, scarcely daring to click against the cold metal of his scalpel, the only weapon he ever carried. Despite the battle-honed awareness of the two, the ones that had a arrived later, they seemed to have not noticed their silent visitor.

Neo hadn't meant to get cornered like this. He'd only come to the hospital for new materials, sometimes you could get pretty good stuff here, if you had the guts to poke around a bit. He usually tried to avoid the hospital at all costs, it brought up too many unpleasant memories of his human life, but some things are just inevitable. The only problem with staying away for so long was that he had had no idea, when he clambered in through a busted window, that he was entering someone's home. Neo had no idea who the old doll was, he had never seen him before in his life, and the guy didn't look all that menacing. But he could've been hostile, could've been a Traitor, you just never knew. So, when the doll had come in, Neo had clambered up onto a ledge, far above the reception area. Then, he'd waited for the older stitchpunk to fall asleep. The only problem was, he didn't know how to get back down. And now, these goons had shown up.

Trapped on a ledge above a pair of nasty-looking guys with swords. Could my day possibly get any worse?

The universe, it seemed, planned to take him up on that challenge and, as he shifted slightly to ease his stiff and aching limbs, he lost his balance and tumbled off of the ledge. He landed with a thud and an sigh as the impact knocked all the breath out of him. Well this is awkward, Neo thought, his mind kicking into panicked overdrive.

It certainly wasn't a desirable situation: Lying flat on his stomach, depressingly entangled with the red yarn that allowed him to sling his scalpel over his shoulder, smack in the middle of a merry band of grumpy dolls with knives.

"Crap." He said, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his head.

[Nikolai [39]]

Nikolai's reaction was instantaneous, and above all, highly violent. His knife came free from his belt, he hauled Neo up by the scruff of the neck, and he pinned him to the wall with a solid 'WHUMP!', knife to his neck. Nikolai's single tinted optic glowered into Neo's, flicking from one to the other. He remained silent for a moment, then thought better of it- If the other was going to be explaining himself, he had better do so promptly, else it get unpleasant.

"Identify yourself and your purpose here." He growled. He knew that behind him, Ulysses had probably drawn his own blade. He knew that if it were him in Ulysses' position, he'd have drawn his sword and moved between the newcomer and Aelius. So he reasoned that Aelius was probably safe, and risked a glance back at the two behind him.

"I do not suppose either of you are knowing dis one, eh?" He said somewhat dryly. He'd snapped from jolly into fighter without so much as a noise. It wasn't hard for him. If anything, this experience told him that he should not have let his guard down, or he'd have seen or heard this stitchpunk approaching.

[Neodymium [144]]

"I-um-I was just-but-I-" Neo stuttered, his hands up, palms open in a gesture of surrender, his scalpel having clattered to the floor when Nikolai pushed him against the wall.

This Nikolai character was exactly the type Neo had pegged him to be- a seasoned fighter, ready to go into battle at a moment's notice. Not the best person you want to land in front of if you suddenly drop from the ceiling. He even had an eyepatch. An eyepatch.


"L-listen, I'm a Rogue, okay? I go around and collect stuff, random junk, yaknow? It's my thing. I came here, looking for new materials, and that's all. I swear." He explained hastily, painfully aware of the knife pressed against his neck.

But somewhere within him, deep down, a voice seemed to cry out in protest. Why are you explaining yourself to this guy? You've got as much right to be here as him. He struts around, thinking he's so tough. Go on, teach him a lesson. You know how.[/color][/i] It was a silky smooth voice, deathly calm and convincing. It was the voice of his evil self.

Neo ignored it, just like always, and hoped Nikolai would let him go now. For both their sakes.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

It was instantaneous for Ulysses as well. When the dunce fell, he swung the knife and the sword out, dual wielding. When Nikolai swung for the intruder, he stepped into position to defend the elderly ragdoll. His posture was instantly into a simple movement; if the doll tried anything, the sword would cut his wrists, and the dagger would be through his throat.

"I do not suppose either of you are knowing dis one, eh?" Ulysses shook his head in the negative. And he didn't care to either. The runt was a mess, and-

"L-listen, I'm a Rogue, okay? I go around and collect stuff, random junk, yaknow? It's my thing. I came here, looking for new materials, and that's all. I swear." Ulysses didn't let up. So the new one was a talker? Good. That made this easier. And with Nikolai here, there was no chance of him not talking. He did, however, catch a hint of the internal debate raging in the newcomer, and shifted his stance slightly, into a more menacing posture.

He is under OUR protection, fool. And this is OUR area now. He resisted instinct to secure the area. That would have to wait.

[Aelius]

Aelius remained silent when the third doll fell from the ceiling. How the hell did he not notice him? He really must be getting old, he thought...

Again, he was startled, but not frightened, though he allowed Ulysses to defend him, just in case. This little doll didn't seem like much of a threat, but best he still be sure. He wasn't exactly in the best shape to fight.

Then the new doll began to speak. A Rogue, scavenging for items. Those made up the majority of dolls Aelius usually cared for. He gently laid a hand on Ulysses' shoulder, carefully pushing him aside to get a better look at Neo, immediately inspecting him for any damage.

His home was beginning to get a little too crowded for his liking, but at least he'd have something productive to do. "Well, I might have well gotten out the oil. This is turning out to be a regular party, huh?" He said sarcastically.

[Nikolai [39]]

As the stranger spoke up, Nikolai began to relax. The strange twitch in his head, the way the other doll's eyes darted left... He'd seen it before. And he didn't like what it meant. His optic widened with fury, but he quickly stifled his feelings as Aelius came over to inspect him.

He held a deep respect for the old medic- He was, after all, the only stitchpunk besides himself he would allow to look at any wounds he may have- and that prompted him to back off. Nikolai gave Neo an angry, knowing glare and then took a step back, instantly five times more tense. He sheathed his blade. He'd be watching this one. He had once known a doll with a killer of a dual personality- If this newcomer proved to be similar, he wouldn't hesitate to put his knife between his eyes.

[Neodymium [144]]

Neo let out a barely audible sigh of relief as the big doll with the eyepatch let him go. He leaned heavily against the wall, his fear-induced adrenaline rush ebbing away and leaving him worn-out and exhausted.

As the old medic doll-Aelius-bustled over to inspect him for wounds, he caught a distinctly nasty look thrown his way by the brutish Russian. It wasn't just an angry or threatening glare, either; it seemed sort of..knowing. The message was clear: don't try anything or I won't think twice to take you out. Neo gulped, fear making the gears of his heart race. Somehow-and Neo couldn't possibly fathom what that "how" was-the big doll knew.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, really," he said to Aelius, warding off the old medic as he tried to check him over for cuts. Neo was actually quite proud of how healthy and unmarked his fabric was, especially considering his line of work, but he wasn't think about that right now. As he fended off the medic doll, his optics stayed glued to Nikolai the whole time.The big Russian brute stood a step or so behind Aelius, looking so tense he seemed apt to explode at any moment. Nikolai seemed to be watching Neo too, with a steely, one-optic glare that wouldn't miss a thing.

Neo's fabric was in great condition, especially compared to this doll's scarred and battle-worn appearance. It was strange, really, that despite Nikolai's scars and frightening strength and height, skinny, scared-looking Neo was actually the most dangerous person here, given the right circumstances.

And as if things couldn't be any worse, these were the right circumstances. Neo's evil self was awake, alert and not at all happy about being kept at bay...