ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Bart Bart is in his usual exam room, the rolling frame for his great machine simply staying there over nights now rather than being ported back and forth the Knox family home. He's in his lab coat and spectacles, currently waving a computerized tablet at the great device. He's humming some old timey song, probably Blue Moon or something.
Jackson As per usual, Jackson was headed toward the usual spot he'd began to stop when his body was bruised, battered, or otherwise filled with holes that had no business being there. As he limped along, clutching the bandages he'd loosely fastened over his thigh wound, he idly wondered what sort of angry deity kept sending him down such unlucky paths. He'd have to seriously consider taking better care of himself, or next time, there might not be much of him to bring back to the city. As he hobbled into the clinic, he unashamedly made his way over to Dr. Bart's office in hopes that the man's strange technology could give him a bit of a pick me up. He knocked solidly on the door three times, then calmly waited for a response. When the man opened up, his introduction was simple.
"Hate to see you again so soon, but it seems as though I'm unlucky." His tone was dry as he spoke, and after a brief pause to groan in discomfort, he continued. ".357 to the thigh. Already dug out most of the bullet, if not all of it. Also have a few deep bruises and potential fractures from being mugged by a group of asshole kids. Long story."
Bart Bart looks up at the sound of the large man is knocking on the door. He looks up and pulls the door open to see the soldier and offer him a smile. Then he's looking down and making a frown. "Hm. I see," says the doctor listening to the patient explain their injuries. Clinical study and his face is rather blank as he examines the man. "I can help you, usual routine though, sir. Please remove any metal objects and your clothing and I'll boot up the device." he is already flicking switches on the side of the engine looking thing with lenses. The thing starts to heat up and the air pressure changes a bit. "You were mugged by children?" he asks a bit curiously, unable to hold back his fascination. "Are they for hire?"
Jackson The deputy nodded gratefully as he entered, hanging his duster on the door, closing it, and quickly ridding himself of any clothing or metal that he'd been carrying on his person-- which was quite a bit. Two seperate revolvers, a few loads of ammo for each, his combat armor, as well as his badges and other accessories. He placed it all in a neat pile, removed his glasses, and calmly laid himself down on the hospital bed as he started to explain his story to the best of his ability.
"I couldn't tell you how expensive they are, but I can tell you they aren't very nice." Jack said dismissively, the ghost of a smile flickering across his disgruntled visage for a moment. "I couldn't really bare to hurt them. They were just kids, you know. One minute i'm digging through the scrapyard over by Roswell, the next, I see this kid. He screams, 'GET 'IM!' and the next thing I know, I've got two dozen kids tumbling all over me." He legitimately laughed at the thought, shaking his head as he recalled the calamity. "Definitely kicked a few ribs, and might've thrown them around a little bit, but nobody ambushes a law man and gets away scratch-free. Especially a bunch of kids. I let them keep the caps though. Looked like they needed them."
Bart Listening, the man behind the machine tilts his head out from behind the massive device, eyes covered in spectacles and looking HYUGE for a moment. "Well, I'm sure you showed those children what was what," he insists before ducking behind to twist a knob allll the way up at which point the lights start turning on inside the engine. Lowering his goggles over his glasses, he adjusts the aim of the lenses some, ticking up two before the dull THWUMP comes and the air pressure drops suddenly, making ears pop as the bright laser light hits Jackson's chest and then swirls around with his insides, putting things back together and knitting muscle. The bruises fade and the burning settles in so that Jackson is reminded that this way feels like getting stung by bees! Giant bees!
Jackson Before he could so much as make a sarcastic remark at the doctor's expense, the brilliant light of the laser sent stars swimming around the deputy's field of vision with a terrible, though tolerable, burning sensation an an audible 'THWUMP'. As the beam criss-crossed along the length of his chest and thigh, the young man unfortunately recognized that the feeling of the laser forcibly knitting together his body's tissue was not at all desimilar to the sensation of gigantic, angry bees biting and stinging at the exposed bits of his flesh. Though a particularly terrifying and vivid thought, before he could begin to panic over any of it, his treatment came to it's completion. Standing up from the bed and beginning to re-dress himself, he fixed the doctor with a thankful, though ornery glare of his emeralds before he covered them with the mirrored lenses of his aviators.
"As always, everything's greatly appreciated. I'll be sure to let those kids know you're rooting for them." With that said, he dug into one of the pockets of his duster, carefully counting out a sum of 100 caps and dismissively sliding them onto the surface of the table. "I'm sure they'd really appreciate the support."
Bart Bart lifts those goggles up as the machine winds down and tings loudly as the metal cools. He's moving around to poke and prod the deputy to make sure he's well again. Satisfied with his results the mad scientist continues to go back to flicking switches down into the off position. "I'm always rooting for the underddog, Deputy," he smiles and then tucks the caps away into his pocket for later. "Though it sounds like you support them well enough." He chuckles some dryly at his own humor. "Do come see me again soon!" He waves the man off and goes back to his work.