The Master Chief

[prettycoolguy]

open post. ota, memes, prompts, w/e. use whatever format you like.

Comments

gestures vaguely @ medical shit

[allflash]

[ Dorian is still on his ranting tear, though at a lower grumbling pace and far from being directed at Chief. The comment does pull a poorly repressed laugh out of him, though he absolutely didn't miss that little twinge. What's under the shirt isn't especially surprising. The Chief was dramatically worse when Dorian first saw him,
after all, this is an improvement. ]

Do try, won't you. These ongoing near apocalypses are so tiring, I'm enjoying the novelty of not being woken by the sounds of shouting and artillery fire.

[ And not having soldiers dying under his hands even as he tries to work a little more life into them. That's been nice too. His voice is light and airy for all that he's being a doctor now. Examining for remnants of a concussion, checking over and cataloging the progress of bruises and fractures and kneeling to check and re-cover stitches. Spartan physiology is a modern marvel and it soothes a bit of Dorian's bad temper to see someone who is healing for once, at least physically, instead of simply being kept alive. ]

You're getting along very well. Time and rest and you'll be back to whatever it is you do in no time. Emphasis on time and rest, mind.

lol same

[prettycoolguy]

[ The Chief is a well-practiced patient, once you get him to sit the fuck down. He knows the drill and doesn't fuss. ]

I'm starting to get used to it. Can't let anyone ruin that.

[ The war was a couple of years more recent for the Chief, and he was preparing to fight before it even began. This (relative) calm is alien, even threatening, because the only thing he can expect is something terrible is about to happen to break it. It's how his life has always worked. ]

How much?

[ He may be behaving himself, but he's still absolutely on top of getting back out there as soon as he can. He wants hard numbers, and he wants to push them once he has them. ]

[allflash]

You're a wretched liar, do you know that.

[ He's almost gentle when he says it, patting the Chief lightly on the shoulder as he packs away his instruments and disposes of the old bandages. And don't think he hasn't figured out your evil plan either. He frowns at him, eyes narrowed and mustache twitching. ]

That depends. How much rest are you actually planning on getting.