Scene #434:

Owner	Pose
Miss Clokwerk	Clokwerk's stay within Confed Medical has been a little discomforting. Demons, undead, and the like are things that /mages/ use. And like many a shadowrunner, she doesn't like mages. Geek the drekheads. But at least she's alive. Wearing a tank-top and shorts, her injuries are rather clear; multiple stab wounds to the mid-rift, minor abrasions along her fleshy arms, and a right cyberleg that's constantly twitching. The smell of fried circuitry is heavy in the air, her right cyberhand utterly immobile. Along her mid-rift, the dermal plates have been stabbed straight through, bandages covering both plating and the fleshy inner bits alike!
Taro	The next person who appears at her bedside may or may not be a refreshing change. He's not an otherplanar daemon or a mindless zombie, at least. Or a mage, for that matter. The tiger-striped tattoos aside, he may even be mistaken for human. However, he -is- garbed in the cassock and collar of a priest. Take that as as you will. He raps twice quietly on the door to announce his presence, before tapping the datapad he has in hand to pull up the relevent chart from Medical's database. "Good morning...Miss Clokwerk, I preseume?" He raises his free hand to his chest in an introductory gesture. "Taro Daisho. We spoke on the radio last night."
Miss Clokwerk	Clokwerk perks up at the sight of someone who isn't a zombie, vampire, or demon. She sounds a bit groggy, and she twitches in the face every now and then. There's still bloodshot in the veins around her cybereyes. A tox report shows the remains of several combat stimms in her bloodstream, but the worst of them have already been filtered or magic'd out. "Hoiiiii!" Comes the woman, loud and friendly. Beat up or not, she's happy to see the man. "I remember ya! Come on in, you're a sight after all those demons and undead." Shudder. "Was half afraid they were gonna eat me. You Feddies got some /real/ creepy medical assistants. But, uh, yeah. My chrome's all sorts of busted, nevermind my fleshy bits." She doesn't seem shy, letting Taro look her cyberware over as he needs.
Taro	"They serve their role," Taro replies with a shrug in his voice. His attention shifts from datapad to Clokwerk when he approaches her bedside proper, his gaze lingering on her obviously broken hand and her legs. Particularly the one that's still twitching. "So I see..." The datapad is set aside on a side cabinet, and he removes his gloves as well before cleaning them at the wash station. Proper hygene procedures for organic patients and all that. "Are you in any pain or discomfort?" He waits on her answer before continuing, though he doesn't seem to immediately act upon it. Returning to her bedside, he reaches out to gently poke and probe the tweiching limb. In part, it's to check the artificial musculature for damage that cannot be seen, in part of find the access panels for where cyberware meets flesh.
Miss Clokwerk	A brow rises. "...You've either been around way too many mages, omae, or you've got balls of steel." Comments the runner, peering as a zombie goes by. Ick. Please, don't let her get infected. "Eh, a little. Leg's got that 'oh, hey, I just broke the hydraulic jacks again on someone's face' pain. Happens more than you'd think. Damn things are just so /sensitive, ya know? Want to slap whoever thought it'd be a good idea to add pain receptors there instead of a good ol' AR readout. I've got these..." She points to her eyes. "For a fragging reason!" Mutter mutter. Then, she's tapping the wound. "This isn't so bad, but I think that's the morphine talking." The limb twitches more, and then there's a hiss. The leg kicks hard, putting a dent into the railing of the bed. "...Woops." Then, CLokwerk touches her jacks. A moment later, the leg powers down, going limp. "Okay, try now. Won't lose a hand that way." There's /definitely/ some damage within, several bent and snapped wires, as well as a leak in the hydraulic fluid container being the main problem. There's far too much pressure in the jacks, too; probably as a result of compressed tubes from a very, very hard landing. INto the side of an armored car.
Taro	Taro reflexively moves his hands and arms out of the way when she kicks - a touch too smoothly for normal reflexes. Once she powers her leg down, he murmurs a 'thank you' and then continues as if nothing had happened. Apparently he's used to this. "Integration to pain receptors is standard," he notes. "It decreases both the physiological and psychological side-effects that come with merging organic and mechanic." His touch is gentle in a professional sort of way, enough to assess without causing further pain while not being mistaken for a caress. "Mm. Still using hydraulics and pneumatics, I see...the limb is going to need to be drained before I can effect proper repairs." He straightens and then steps away, moving over to one of the many cabinets against the wall. Drawers are opened, tools and instruments laid out in an organized fashion, supplemented by the tools from his belt. When he returns, he's carrying what looks much like a hand-held vaccuum cleaner, except with a straw-sized hose and nozzle attached to its end. The nozzle is slipped into the fuid reservoir first to drain it fully, before continuing on to the crevices around it. "I've served Master SHODAN and the Confederacy for several years. One gets accustomed to being surprised."