Cause you open me up

[beastlybeauty]

Who| Justine and Sigma
What| Justine left Sigma off the hook for opening his artificial limbs up... for a while. But now she needs to know how they work.
Where| Justine's surgical room.
When| Today, after the mini-arena.
Warnings/Notes| Probably descriptions of cutting someone open, and no one likes that.

"Just take a seat."

There's a chair, not too dissimilar to a dentist's chair, in the middle of the room, looking like it could potentially be adjusted to be a flat table. Next to it is a tray of neatly ordered advanced surgical equipment, both for flesh and cybernetics. She walks along the counter in the back, putting on a face mask with a soft hum.

"Is there anything you would like to feel more comfortable?"

Comments

[futilecycle]

Sigma entered Justine's surgical suite tightly wound, poised to snap. With three 'children' inside of the mini Arena- one of whom he'd had no idea was young enough to qualify- the Doctor had found himself unable to cope with his grief in any way but inefficient distractions. It was one thing to be inside the Arenas with them, to be able to give his support - separated from them, he felt helpless and selfishly lonely.

By the time Sigma has worked up the nerve to attend his appointment with Justine, he is one fine hair-trigger away from losing his mind. He thought it might be nothing short of a miracle if he could get through this without having a nervous breakdown.

He takes a seat uneasily. Surveying the instruments, he's ready for another sort of pain killer, one he might pour into a glass and share with Eva. It was too bad his drinking buddy was dead. "If you could apply a local anesthetic at my shoulder, it should block the receptors that synapse to my cybernetics..." Normally, Sigma would give more specific instructions, but he is overcome by nervousness. He would ask to be put out completely, but is afraid of what 'improvements' might be made as he slept.

[beastlybeauty]

"Of course, of course."

Justine pulls on surgical gloves before pushing a rolling chair next to Sigma's. She opens the drawers, pulling out a syringe and a neatly labeled bottle. She concentrates for a moment, making sure she's paying attention and takes the right amount before putting the bottle down and checking the syringe for bubbles.

"I understand if you're a little nervous, but I promise I've done this plenty of times before. I like to think I have a friendly bedside manner."

She sits down in the chair next to Sigma, gesturing casually for him to lean his shoulder towards her. "But I suppose I would be wrong in thinking that the examination is the only thing you're nervous about."

[futilecycle]

The sight of the needle filling is enough to make Sigma nauseous, and he closes his eye, his forehead beading with a thin layer of sweat. Another moment later, his cybernetic eye powers off with a low hum. "It isn't you," he hastily corrects. He knew better than to trust a Panemian Doctor, but he couldn't help but appreciate that Justine was far less malicious to him than she had right to be. "I just-" Behind his eyelid, there was a flash of the needles and saws that took his limbs and eye, the large warehouse door that severed his arm from his body. "Bad experiences," he yelps.

He takes a few long, deep breaths to get himself under control. For a man in the winter of his life, he was acting like a child. Strength has returned to his voice when he speaks again, and he presents his shoulder to Justine. There is a distinct scar that separates his cybernetic and human flesh; the healthy, tawny 'skin' of his youth from aged, ashy white that had not seen sun in decades. "You are not wrong. I had a difficult time stomaching the recent Arena. I worry about the children more than my age allows, I suppose." He makes it sound like a trivial thing. "...I think I would prefer not to watch the procedure, if it is all the same to you," he mutters.

[beastlybeauty]

Justine is patient with his little display. After all, it isn't anywhere near the sorts of tantrums some tributes had been throwing about artificial limbs. Intellectually, she understands that previous trauma affects people and their reactions to present events, but she has absolutely no way to empathize with it, and thus no way to truly understand.

"I may need to ask you some questions, depending on how different the technology used for your arm is from ours, but I'll do my best to do this on my own."

She swabs his shoulder with disinfectant before sinking her needle into his skin. "If it becomes a problem, I have some medication that could calm your nerves. Just say the word if you need it. And of it helps at all, I feel that those children are a hardy bunch. They will be quite alright, given time to get their bearings."

[futilecycle]

As the needle pushes into his skin, Sigma shivers before quickly composing himself. What an embarrassment he was to his own name. He was Dr. Klim, the first nobel-laureate of his homeworld in the age after the mass extinction. In secret he was Zero, the embodiment of wickedness and fear. He had lived and died one thousand lives. Yet the Capitol knew him as a parody of his self and the idea that he could be brought down by a needleprick when infection and overdose had been the very basis of his game was nothing short of shameful. He collects himself in anticipation of the first incision.

It takes him a minute to parse what she had said. "They will, won't they," he hollowly agrees. "And I thank you for the offer, but I believe I can manage." He takes a breath with great effort: "You should be fine. I fear my model may be somewhat archaic, in fact. Albert and Jet's cybernetics were quite the works of art, for all of their ingratitude. Mine were made to mimic human flesh as accurately as possible and not much else." Underneath his skin, wire nerves and mechanical muscle sat tightly atop a titanium skeleton, bathed in a white liquid. They were made to give strength to a man bound to the moon, and on earth's gravity, their excessive power is unnecessary. But they had never been intended to be used for battle, and as Sigma had already complained, he suffered chronic pain from the weight.

Apologies for late tag!

[beastlybeauty]

"I've offered once and I would like you to know that the offer stands open: I can upgrade you. Bioengineering happens to be a specialty of mine."

She doesn't warn him before making the first incision, but the little flip she does with the scalpel she picks up so it catches the light can be construed as a warning before she sinks the knife in and gets to work.

"I could make it lighter. Less muscle strain and pain. Maybe make it a little more effective in the arena, hmm? It would be simple, really, and quite painless."

No worries, I had exams anyway

[futilecycle]

Sigma gives a jolt when the knife sinks into flesh, gasp catching in his throat, but forces himself back down onto the chair and breathes carefully. No panicking. He must hold together...

"I am still considering it," Sigma lies with a wavering voice. "Perhaps I will get lucky yet and the Arena will resemble my home on the moon." He almost laughed; it was very unlikely that the Capitol would bring them to the moon for an Arena. He supposed stranger things had happened. "I am curious, however: what could you do to make them more effective in the Arena?" In truth, Sigma just desperately wanted something to keep his mind off of the surgery. She had hardly begun and he was already sweating.