closely | all of a sudden you're a hostage to things you thought you wanted

Then you're staying for what I like.

[ as simple as it is, this makes sense to the arcanist as they completely close the distance between them and the other before them. again, they reach for their wrist, a gloved grip around the area as their index and middle finger test the blood flow through the area.

medicine pocket has no shame, they do whatever they wish to, and it's with this idea of "fun" that they push down the fabric of the other's sleeve to expose more of his skin that matters. ]

I don't really like humans, but you're so weird.

[ most would run, but this one wants to stay which is a good outcome for medicine pocket. without waiting for the other to answer, medicine pocket uses their free hand to dig into the pocket of their lab coat in order to withdraw a scalpel. ]

I want to cut you open and see what falls out! Like a chew toy with the filling inside.

[ if they had a tail it would definitely wag. ]

( "weird" certainly not the most offensive thing 4 has been called. but it's not exactly good, how far out of step he's gotten in this role. the slight frown from before returns, the pinch to his brow. where many would be outright alarmed at this point, 4 finds himself a little...apathetic.

if not for his own mission, a well buried part of him acknowledges he might just let this happen.

the excitement exuded from medicine pocket is also...strange. 4 cannot quite place it. it's not like the researchers at peil ever got remotely excited making their adjustments on him or the tests they run him through. witnessing it now though, he's bizarrely grateful. that kind of eagerness on the peil people would be ... a bit much.

for the second time, he tugs in an effort to wrest himself free of medicine pocket's hold, speaking mildly as he does so, )

"Chew toy"? Never mind. Nothing is going to fall out. Other than what you would naturally expect.

( a pause. )

Not, that I'm going to let you proceed to find out anyway.

( his other hand goes to grab medicine pocket's wrist instead, to keep them from actually using the scalpel of course. 4 isn't particularly strong. his adeptness in piloting doesn't come from physical strength after all. just his compatibility with the machines and the man-killing permet that runs through them. )

If everything inside you is normal then it should be fine.

[ the hand that holds onto the arcanist causes medicine pocket to frown, they're quick to pull their arm out from his grip. what they did notice is that this person is a little weak, enough for an arcanist to take advantage of them.

then... maybe... ]

Also... I didn't say you could touch me.

[ the tone creates the idea that he should have asked for permission, though it's normal for dogs to have an allergic reaction to someone touching them like so. despite medicine pocket not asking for permission when it comes to touching their new interest, they continue to touch and grab onto them. if they're unable to take their arm, they're certainly going to throw their weight on top of the other in hopes to force him onto the ground and on his back. ]

( the statement has the desired effect, perhaps, in that 4 hesitates. despite his endeavors to be as unflappable as the word, he...isn't. so despite the obvious hypocrisy, he pauses long enough that medicine pocket can indeed get the literal and figurative jump on him. it's unfortunate timing for 4 on all accounts. back from a battery of tests and augmentations at peil headquarters, it's not just that he's weaker; the permet running through his system is still excessively volatile. he can feel the element snaking through his veins with its intolerable heat, and it spikes sharply when his back hits the floor.

to medicine pocket, to anyone, 4 would simply look stunned the way anyone might look when thrown on their back abruptly. what is not the way just anyone would look is the glimmer of red light under his skin, hidden by his clothes everywhere except his face, the soft glow of it a shimmered cast across his skin beneath his eyes, where it's quite thin.

before now, 4 hadn't ever noticed medicine pocket but maybe even if he had noticed them it wouldn't have helped him. )

[ this works in their favor. enough strength to push the other onto their back, medicine pocket straddles them with ease by bracketing their legs on both sides of their test subject's hips. looking down at them, medicine pocket sizes them up from their face to the attire to their chest, it seems pretty formal somewhere... but not what they care about. ]

Hm... Where do I want to start...

[ they mumble to themselves as they've given up on the boy's arm, now they look at his neck with interest that's covered by the attire. the scalpel goes back into their pocket, and instead they retrieve an empty syringe which should make their intentions more obvious.

a healthy amount of blood should be enough to examine as it's not every day medicine pocket wants to deal with a human. ]

Turn your head to the left.

[ they'll even help by using their free hand to rest two fingers underneath his chin, and casually guide his head if the other is willing to turn it. ]

( 4 is decidedly not willing, but he's just incapacitated enough that the way his head turns with the slightest guide from medicine's fingers might make it seem like he is suddenly quite agreeable. he wonders if they are a spy. then he wonders why it matters. any blood taken should ostensibly be exactly what one anticipates from elan ceres. the very subtle differences, well, one would have to have both of them in front of them to tell.

under medicine, 4 flinches briefly, the slight shift of his body an obviously failed attempt get them off of him. his breaths come out a little too fast to be normal, tandem with his rising temperature. he needs to center himself, to calm down, but easier said than done. )

Good puppy.

[ pulling the cap off of the syringe, medicine pocket leans forward to pull at the neck of his the other's attire. the skin visible now, they place two fingers against a pressure point to check how well the veins are. they're unable to tell if the body is warming up quickly, but what they can tell is that his breathing has picked up. ]

Calm down, don't be nervous. Did you forget, I'm your friend.

[ inserting the needle into the other's neck without warning, they slowly begin to draw blood, their eyes shifting to see what color comes out. ]

And friends help friends learn new things.

Y — ( his word cuts off almost as soon as it starts, broken off with a half hiss half something he bites back until his tongue bleeds. the feeling of the needle pressing in is...familiar and unpleasant, makes him seize up in a way that's basically muscle memory at this point. nervous? he blinks, still a little stunned from the fall, still very disoriented from his own body fighting against him.

he's not nervous.

friend?

also no.

for a second he wonders if they are secretly from peil as well and then discards the ridiculous notion. the controlling types they are, they'd never deal with an agent like medicine pocket. the closest they would permit is probably the clone in line after 4 himself, but that's neither here nor there.

where the cravat has been pulled down, 4's skin lances with pink-red light, which would be pretty to anyone who doesn't know it's also a death sentence. yet, throughout everything, 4's expression barely changes at all. )

[ much like a dog, they focus on what's new and unpredictable by seeing the skin change color for a mere moment. is he like a chameleon but the ground doesn't match the color that his skin had showed, so what is that... medicine pocket tilts their head with a bit of confusion as they pinch at the skin to see what it'll do. ]

Why does your skin do that?

[ it's a simple question, one that could be easily answered, but they can only wonder if he would tell them. medicine pocket doesn't know anything about peil, they're from an entirely different place that only so many people know about. the foundation, a group that collaborates with humans in order to save both humans and arcanists from the impending doom that is time.

this is why medicine pocket is very much interested in this oddity that is the subject's skin, because what is that? once they drain him of enough blood, they pull out the needle from the other's neck as blood begins to bead up little by little. leaning forward, medicine pocket drags their tongue along the area, and it only takes a few seconds for the area to heal as through medicine pocket never violated them at all. ]

( there's a reflexive jerk of 4's body when pinched, a slight furrow to his brow. at first, he doesn't answer, not inclined exactly to be cooperative beyond what his weakened body has already allowed. he doesn't think he can be more surprised, which only serves to make him feel even more out of sorts when the needle is withdrawn only for medicine to lean in. if anything, 4 goes rigid underneath them, the confusion and shock a crosswire so palpable it's almost like one can see the strings tangle in front of them.

the light continues to flicker under 4's skin, irregardless, and an answer falls from him, startled out of him in the same fashion as tripping bodily over a rock in the road. )

— because...

( okay so it's not actually an answer. he stops himself. normally one with much more composure, he can't quite seem to re-balance himself in this situation. is it really because he's in a weakened state upon return? what other reason? maybe it doesn't matter. staying still, almost as if he's completely disconnected from the whole interaction, 4 stares up tiredly, gaze canting to the blood filled syringe. where medicine licked him, he feels nothing now and wonders at that too. )

— never mind. What are you going to do with that?

All sorts of stuff.

[ what falls under that umbrella would happen to be... as they said: all sorts of stuff. they're aware that the answer probably isn't enough, but why would an arcanist fill in all the gaps when it can be easily understood. why else would someone take another person's blood, it has to all be for testing, and if not that then those are human worries and problems the arcanist doesn't really care to hear about.

leaning back up properly, they continue to sit on their victim as they look at the blood with interest wondering if it too will shimmer before them much like the other's skin. ]

Are you sick?

[ now it's getting to the important parts where medicine pocket figures that it's not only blood they need, maybe a sample of skin would do something good for them too. ]

No. ( the answer is dull, polar opposite to the glimmer in 4's skin. it's true though; he's not sick, despite the permet shortening his lifespan. if one were to do tests on him as peil often does, they would find him impressively healthy if one were to ignore the effect of the permet. he explains nothing, feeling no need to. instead, 4 stares up at medicine and goes through the possibilities of where they come from, vetoing all of them tiredly.

what it comes down to is that he has no idea, and this bothers him almost more than his blood being drawn or a scalpel being brandished earlier.

slowly his eyes close then open, as if he's incredibly put-upon. which, actually, that is in fact how he's feeling beneath the overall dizziness and weakness. if medicine had found 4 a week later, he'd be back to regular form again, more or less, but they didn't, and so he finds himself in this situation. he sighs again. )

Would you please get off of me now?

( despite everything there is a distinct lack of urgency or fear, the slightly too-light green of his eyes as cool as is icy reputation. the blood that medicine pocket took does not seem alight the way the permet travels under 4's skin. )

Huh... Arcanum? No, I would have broke down something like this before. Your skin feels no different, even with the color teasing itself over and over... iridescence? Animal...

[ rather than answer his question, medicine pocket is focused on the challenge right before them. they want to understand what it is about the skin that gives it that glow, some arcanists simply have this ability, but there's nothing about their victim that screams that they struggle around humans. casually walking around as lifeless as they are, though there are some arcanists who have simply given up.

unfortunately, they are also simply emotional creatures down at their core— their feelings go up, and then they go down. ]

Shut up until I ask you a question.

[ don't bother them, there's science at work about the type of body the other has. the scalpel they had before will now find use against the crook of the other's neck, the blade cutting at the skin both slow and precise. medicine pocket's brows knit together during their focus, once against blood bubbling up from underneath. ]

I don't have anything to preserve it in, damn... my blood, maybe.

[ they're mostly talking to themselves now. ]

( 4 has no idea what arcanum is but he can make some guesses, not that it matters per se. what does matter: the scalpel against his neck and the faint hiss that escapes him, blotted out when he grits his teeth. the indifference shifts to something sharper, only to give way once again to confusion as he realizes medicine isn't even talking to him at this point.

as it happens, 4 is fairly good at receiving and obeying orders. but this is usually when said orders are given by his namesake or related parties. medicine pocket is none of these as far as he can tell, and so, even with his blood welling up again and the scalpel still to his neck, he says with a severe austerity, )

There's nothing worth preserving about it. The sample you already took will also be useless.

( he can't imagine medicine pocket needs a mobile suit pilot under their thumb, but even then, the blood itself would do nothing. it's 4 himself as a whole, as laughable as it is to him, masquerading under elan ceres' name his known "life". )

Didn't I say shut up?

[ talking while they're trying to understand the oddity that is this person's flesh is getting in the way of what medicine pocket does best. they're a genius, this is easily solvable as long as they have the proper utensils to see their curiosity through.

he did answer something for them but every piece of information about a person can be taught to them through just a single cell. the blood is worth it if only to say that the shimmer doesn't come from it, but maybe the heart or the brain.

they don't mind taking those. ]

You can't even do the simplest of things... if you want to talk, explain why your skin does that.

[ well, they're waiting as they turn their hand to proceed with the second cut, just a small square outline to peel off him. ]

( again, a twitch of annoyance, though it goes away as fast as it's there. he sighs. unconsciously, his body shivers a little, likely from further blood loss. peil took a lot the day prior besides, so it's no wonder he feels this weak. but it's frustrating. at the same time, despite the shivering, his body will seem increasingly hot, the lines of light under his flesh brighter too, aggravated by spikes of emotion. this isn't something even peil has seen in other previous clones. usually it only happens when the individual is piloting. in this, 4 is perhaps, a decent test subject but that all depends on the purpose. in terms of survival, if he knew that might be what it's for, he would laugh. well, maybe. 4 isn't given over to laughter, so actually, maybe he wouldn't.

he does answer medicine pocket, not seeing anything to be gained from refusing. )

It's exhibiting the aggravation of the permet in my body, but it's not technically the skin. You're just seeing it through — !

( he shifts a little bit underneath medicine pocket, but it's a frail attempt to throw them off at best, and perhaps not the best time since the blade is indeed still against his skin, but even 4's borderline self-destructiveness has its own threshold of patience. )

Of what?

[ it's a word they haven't heard before, their curiosity growing more and more as the body underneath them moves to dig the scalpel deeper into his skin. blood drips onto the floor beneath them both, the audible running drips is like ticking to them... when will it all run out? ]

It's something else... the vessels, whatever carries it, it's deeper... what makes it flow... hm.

[ medicine pocket blinks as they pull the scalpel out from him, tossing it to the side as they place both their hands on the side of his prey's head, and leans down so they're at least face to cheek.

if they had a tail, it'd probably wag by now, but instead they're sniffing him from the cheek, to his hair and to the neck where he's bleeding. ]

Come on, tell me, I'm listening.

( it's the disorientation and dizziness muddling into a blurriness of vision that all comes together to have 4 hesitating to answer. not out of stubbornness but out of sheer discomfort. his head is swimming. as it is, medicine pocket seems to have moved on from the question to talking to themself again, which in its own way is a kind of relief.

no sound, but 4's body jerks when the scalpel is pulled out. he blinks, trying to get his vision to focus, not quite successful, faintly turning his head only to feel hands on either side of it hold him in place. the feeling of medicine's face this close is hardly his biggest concern, but the sniffing is an action so utterly unexpected that 4 finds himself confused again all over.

the confusion is enough to put him off kilter enough to answer shakily, )

— ah...permet. An element. This body ... ( there are hesitations in his speech, because focusing is still a bit difficult, but he adds, still fairly calm and quiet,)...is infused with it.

( but it's largely dormant if it's not in a 'body' whether that's a human body or a piece of technology to catalyze its uses. certainly there are exceptions, but in 4's case, the blood that drips from his neck and the blood pulled into a syringe earlier will not exhibit any of the iridescent resonance.

because he's weaker than before, when he lifts a hand to try and just push medicine off it's entirely negligible but 4 is having a hard time feeling his limbs enough to tell. )

Element? Yes, element! That would make sense as to why the blood nor skin matter, it's the content that makes up the body. Oh! Oh! Like nitrogen and oxygen, ohh!

[ they feel a little stupid from having it said directly to them, but they're happy enough as they pull away with a wide smile. sharp teeth showing as they continue to be thrilled at the information, and they lean up to sit properly on him as the other lays on the floor.

the amount of fighting back has slowed down, and medicine pocket watches them properly now to see what's wrong. ]

Hm... aggravation causes it to stir, but that can't be it. What is the healthier way to make it appear?

[ maybe they should focus on how weak he is, but that's not as important as information.

what does catch their attention is the blood that's pouring, how much is leaking from them in an unhealthy amount.

they should fix that, but... ]

Come on, before you bleed out.

( medicine pocket is very good at catching 4 off guard. "healthier way"? if 4 were a different person (other than being, well, a different person literally), he might laugh. as it is, there are black spots breaking up his poor vision and so he hears medicine pocket at this point more so than seeing them. vaguely he can feel them still weighing him down as well, but it's secondary to their voice. )

...there...there isn't...one.

( whether or not medicine pocket believes him is not a concern, and he isn't trying to sound particularly convincing, indeed 4's voice remaining more or less the same this whole time. the main difference is that it's a little quieter now and a little stilted, the discomfort from the wound in his neck actually coming second best to the lancing of the permet through him, brightest along his arms under his sleeves, the sides of his neck, and under his eyes. some of the striations seem almost white rather than red. )

[ oh, that's not bad. then all they have to do is play on their nerves and their body will respond accordingly? interested, medicine pocket figures that the other has done their job in explaining very little, and the rest is what they'll look into.

digging into their pocket, they pull out a thin, clear tube with a needle at the end that matches the one that's connected to medicine pocket's own neck. they dig out a gun-like apparatus, hooking up the second tube to it as they push the needle into the other's neck on the opposite side of where they cut. once it's secure, they push a button on the machine that comes to life with a loud beep, and the blood that has been moving through the tube on medicine pocket's side is quick to filter into the opposite tube. ]

Think of it as a steroid, and a numbing agent.

[ that's what they're using their blood for at the moment as gloved hands search for needle and thread. they find the latter, but the former is a little harder to come across with all the junk in their pockets: tooth picks, needles, half-eaten dog treats, but when they do find the needle that is when they scoot closer up the other's body to sit on their chest somewhat.

medicine pocket waits for their blood to run through the other's system before they start to close up the area where they had cut him. ]

( to this, 4 says nothing. the minute struggle against it is little more than a convulsion. if his body is already not responding well to him, with a so-called numbing agent he imagines it will be even less cooperative.

whatever sensation of numbness it should cause is overshadowed by the boiling quality of the permet sharp and hot and suffocating. it's the permet more than the blood loss or the sutures that causes the irregularity in his breathing, little gasps more so than normal inhales or exhales.

if he were more coherent, 4 would raise a brow at the myriad of things that medicine pocket takes out of...well. their pockets. but since he isn't, there's only a slightly dulled expression contrasted by the glaring permet. depending on medicine pocket's own sensitivity, they might find that touching 4 is slightly uncomfortable (whether it's sitting on him or sewing him up), simply because the heat radiating off of him is exponentially above what's normal. )

[ call it a test, medicin pocket always experiments with their body to test their limits— this is no different, even with the nauseating heat that's wafting of the other. they aren't sure why their composition of their body is reacting in this way, but it might be from the blood loss.

they stay in place, a heavy exhale as they begin to finish threading the flesh together tightly in order to keep him from bleeding anymore than he already has.

if he dies then medicine pocket will be in trouble with their superior, the foundation aren't too keen on human experiments, and medicine pocket doesn't want to lose their job. then again, it's not like they'd know this person existed, and medicine pocket is only here due to their own interest. as soon as their job is done, medicine pocket slides off of the body with a raise of their brow wondering how long he'll overheat. ]

Should I throw water on you?

[ with a tilt of their head, they don't move too far since they're connected through the blood coming from their body into his own. ]

...that...won't be necessary.

( sweat beads across 4's skin, his forehead, down the side of his neck, the length of his rigid spine. he can feel the other tells of not being a perfect vessel: too elevated heartrate, tightness of chest, numbness that contradicts the burning everywhere. throughout it all though, because this is at this point par for the course, his expression barely fluctuates. rather, it's only when green eyes shift to focus loosely on the blood connection apparatus that there's a shift of look at all. still unreadable by ordinary standards, though 4 does find his voice again. )

you're not...human...are you?

( this could mean a multitude of things. for all intensive purposes, 4 isn't either or that's a question of ethics. a question that's unaskable given he's a breach of at least five policies and protocols. but that's neither here nor there. a clone is a clone, even if once, long ago, 4 wore a different face and name that actually belonged to him; it's not as though he remembers what those were anyway.

and...what medicine pocket is...what they are or who they work for...he has no idea but he's already asked so he waits, shivering through the persistent fever of the permet and the too ample blood loss, looking slightly paler for the wear. )

You can tell? Good. If you had called me a human, I might have had things to say.

[ not good things, but it's identifiable in their voice that they would have said something that would have been harsh by human standards. that's why medicine pocket isn't too cruel on their test subject, and instead tries to find points about this person that puts them above humans. ]

You can't be either, I've never seen this in a human before. Well, any of the fuckers I've checked.

[ testing the body is what they're good at, especially with how precise they are when dealing with the body next to them. they don't know what it is that swims through his body, but they're curious, and truthfully they want a sample to play with. how can they go about that? ]

You're more interesting than the rest... let's see, what does it say.

[ they click a button on the apparatus, and it's details go as following: it allows medicine pocket to see how much blood runs through the other's body, they're able to note the temperature, and even the erratic heartbeat. ]

all of a sudden you're a hostage to things you thought you wanted

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