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Iris Lark Iris walks into the first exam room and seeing Harlan laid up there she automatically starts to gather some tools to treat him. Salve, bandages and a few other tools are placed on a side table as she smiles at her patient. "How are you feeling?"
Harlan Harlan is laying on his stomach and glances up from the bed toward Iris and offers a grunt. "I've been better, but I've been worst. You know what they say... Friendly Fire isn't all that friendly." He winces and then gestures to his back with his thumb, a bullet riddled shirt soaked with blood providing the most obvious evidence of his injury.
Iris Lark Iris wrinkles her nose and steps up to the exam table, pulling a stool nearby. She hands a strip of leather to Harlan and grimaces. "I'm going to numb the area, but you're going to feel me digging these bullets out. Bite down when it becomes too painful." She uses her fingers digging into the wounds slowly and methodically. It may seem like it's taking a long time but the *plink* of bullets hitting the metal bowl is quicker than one might realize. Each time she pulls out a bullet, she stitches the hole, spreads salve, and banadges the wound.
Harlan      One would think a macho man would wave away the leather, but Harlan is too old for that shit. He takes the leather strip and grunts a "Thank you. Name is Harlan by the way." He keeps the strip in his hand for now. He lets out a low hiss when a bullet is extracted. "Glad we have someone around who knows how to do the really important work."
Iris Lark "Iris Lark." Iris replies, not distracted as she continues to work slowly. "We all do important work, trust me." She murmurs, taking a break from bullet hunting to wipe the wounds with a warm cloth. She leans in and begins to dig for bullets again. "Are you staying in El Dorado?" She asks, before she realizes that the man might be in too much pain to answer. "I'm sorry, I'll be quiet while I work." She mutters, more to herself than anyone else.
Harlan      "I suppose we do.. but fixing people and treating the sick. There's no higher calling then that. I know very well what life is like without a proper doc around." He growls lowly as another bullet is dug out of his flesh. A few new scars to add to the plethora that are already on the forty year old's body. "Yea.. I'm back. I was born here actually. Left about fifteen years ago.. No, please talk. Its distracting."
Iris Lark Iris takes a breath and nods. "Well welcome home? I'm new here, for the most part." She says, switching sides of the table to work the bullets out of that side. She works quietly for a few moments, her fingers finding another bullet. "You're going to settle here again? What sort of work do you do?" She asks, reaching for more salve to dress the most recent bullet-liberated hole.
Harlan      Harlan hangs his head for a moment and catches his breath. "Work with my hands.. I'm a blacksmith and a gunsmith by trade. I make things. Nice to have a little creation amongst all this destruction, you know?" He folds his arms under his chin. "Yea, I'm settling. I spoke with that girl with the robot. The one named Alice. She mentioned a group that goes by 'Vault Team 6'.. Guess I'm joining. Everyone I knew in El Dorado is dead or gone.. except well Solomon.. and I hope he's dead and gone."
Iris Lark "Mmm yes, I'm a member of Vault Team Six." Iris says, and she threads the curved needle with catgut to stitch a particularly large entry wound. She manages two small uniform stitches and then leans in to cut the cord. She spreads salve over the wound and bandages it before she checks the other wounds for bullets. A few more are fished out and the process is repeated. "I ..well.. I was born and raised in a Legion camp, and when I was rescued I came here. I met Alice a few days later, she's...spunky."
Harlan      "Legion, huh?" He lets out a low whistle. "You must be a hard woman, Iris." He shakes his head. "Especially with you patching up people lookin' like meatloaf on a regular basis." He chuckles lightly, "She is, eh? I'm wondering who I signed up with honestly.. but anyone group of people willing to show up and deal out a little proper justice.. Seems alright with me." He nods stiffly.
Iris Lark "Actually, Mister Harlan, Im afraid all of the time." Iris responds quietly as she finishes patching up his back. "Proper justice, yes, but we don't start fights, we finish them. Fairly." She moves to wash her hands, and then dries them before she walks over with a small jar in her hand. "Here is some extra salve, I'm sure someone might help you spread it on your back if you ask nice enough, or you can come back here and I'll help you again." She pushes her hair behind both of her ears and gestures for Harlan to sit up. "You should be able to move about now."
Harlan      Harlan pushes off the bed and swings his legs over to the side. "Being afraid doesn't mean you aren't tough. It just means you having something to lose." He grows quiet for a moment then nods. "And that's a good thing. It's good to be afraid to lose something. You stay afraid." He stands straight up with a slight groan and avoids the urge to stretch. "You've got a steady hand." He accepts the salve. "Guess I'll be seeing you around. Let me know if you ever need some metal-working done."
Iris Lark "I will, thank you. I'm certain I'll be seeing more of you." Iris says, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Alice has a knack of getting us in trouble and injured." She chuckles softly and shrugs. "But we're a team."