Umbrella Surveillance System
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Esa It is evening time in Paris; Dark grey clouds fill the sky above, blocking out the sun as it slowly begins to set. The clouds themselves give the ominous presence that rain may soon come and the wind does little to help move the clouds hanging over the city.

The hospital itself is quiet; if that was even possible. Patient flow was low, or at least lower than a normal day of the week; which gave reprieve to the nurses on staff. One patient, new to the hospital, had walked in with scratches over his face, arms and back. If one did not know better, it'd look like a domestic dispute had gone in favor of the other person.

That said person would be Esa. Who was kindly escorted to a patient room after informing the nurse at the counter that he was in a "fight". He sat in the patient room now, shirt removed and wounds fully exposed. Aside from scratches, their also appeared to be bruising that was healing on its own.
Emma A quiet night meant that Emma can catch up on sleep. Being in the on call room napping, the lass would of been awoken by that same nurse, who said there was a patient to tend to.

Taking the chart and making her yawn, a hand moves some hair from her face as the lass heads down the hall to the room, knocking briefly before entering.

That's when the chart is looked at, and surprise comes across her grey-green eyes. Looking up quick there is a frown. "Wha - what tha hell happened Esa?" She asks, not hiding her concern.
Esa Esa sat on the bed, hands tapping his knees as he looked around the room quietly. As the door opened, he turned his head to look to see who was coming in and froze. Emma standing there caused him to look away with an embarrassed and nervous look on his face. "Er, hello Emma." He said shyly as he took in a breath, released and tried to smile as he looks to her again; it still portrayed that nervous quality. "I well.." He rubs the back of his neck and lower head. "Truthfully? Got into a fight." and, apparently, multiple judging by some of the old bruises. There wasn't much in the way of bruising; just a few that had not fully dissipated yet on his left upper arm and right lower arm and left side.
Emma Emma is in her scrubs, hair back, chart in hand with a pen, staring at Esa. Yeah, she doesn't quiet believe it. This isn't her first rodeo, so many have come in and made claims but, she knows better.

"A - a fight, hm?" Her tone says enough that this simple explination isn't believed. "Like that Fight Club?" It's a forward question, yes she seems to know about it. Moving forward she sighs. "Okay, I'll-- I'll need ta examine ya."
Esa Esa watches her quietly. He wasn't sure what it was about Emma, but he just could not lie to her. He sighed lightly allows her to go about examining and watches calmly. "I was never much into fighting. Even in the Army, I was a operator in the field; Technical skills and such.. those were my primary. Fighting was secondary." He rambles quietly, pausing briefly before continuing "With recent events.. I thought brushing up on my combat training would be.. beneficial."
Emma Emma stands there, watching him, listening, with a lifted brow as he explains why he is in such a state.

"Oy," There is a small sigh. "I - I get -that- but, yer able ta - ta go 'bout it in different ways ya'know?" There is still concern in her tone. The char is put down, and some gloves are put on. "I saw some fights down there, an' they were -brutal-, ya could of gotten seriously hurt."
Esa Esa's cheeks flush red and he begins to fidget with his fingers; eyes darting away from Emma. His actions appear to be in embarrassment at having caused the woman he likes such concern. She was right, of course. Esa himself had seen some of the brutality in the fights; the recent one having decided to use her finger nails as claws on him. He replies softly, quietly with "Yea..Yeah, your right.. It was kind of dumb.." He took in a breath and released it gently as he looks to her. "Sorry." He said sincerely.
Emma Even though her hands are gloved, she puts a hand on his arm, in a supportive caring way. "Ju - just be careful, aye?" Emma asks of him, with a small smile.

"I'm gonna need'ta look these over, make sure nothin' is getting in - infected, you'll likely need an ointment ta put on them ta make sure they don't."
Esa Esa returns the small smile with an affectionate one of his own. His head nods ever so slightly, tilting slightly; saying "I promise to be careful." He replies softly, adding "Alright."
Emma Emma is quiet a second, lookinh everything over, making sure there is no sign of infection, that none need stitches, or that there is any broken ribs or internal bleeding. Even with gloves on, her touch is gently.

"I've- I've seen some men come in on tha brink of death, it seems. Though, I considered goin' in there ta try it out, to admit. I need ta learn ta defend myself too."
Esa Esa looks at her quietly "A place like that.." He paused, shook his head slightly. "I can teach you what I know; basic defensive skills and some offensive. It's better, safer.. and.." A pause, a gentle smile "I would not have to worry about you getting hurt in a place like that." He said as he looks to her softly.
Emma "I - I know," Emma says, sighing some. "I won't be goin' in there, people worry to much about me." He's given a warm smile in return. "That may not - not be a bad idea, could use some trainin'."
Esa His smile brightens some at the warmth of the one given by her. Esa gives a slight nod again, saying "Okay. Then let's plan a day and I'll train you." He replied, eyes fixed gently on her.
Emma "Well," Emma says, pulling off her gloves and going to toss them into the trash. From there she grabs the clip board, and goes to write a prescription. "I'm - I'm on 24 hour shift right now, an' once I'm done I'll be glad ta learn some self defence. But," Eyes move up to him, with a smile. "Once yer a lil' healed up more."
Esa Esa scratches his chin a little, head nodding. "Well, after a twenty-four shift, I'd suggest coffee and a light breakfast instead of self-defense." He replied with a soft smile. "Then maybe, in a day, some self-defense training." He added with a grin. "As for healing, it's a good thing I know a cute nurse student." He teases; a fond smile crossing his lips.
James Scott "Sir, sir! You can't go in there!" is shouted out in the hall, one of the nurses clearly trying to stop somebody from doing something.

"Fuck off. It's fine." A voice familiar to Emma replies, suspiciously close to the door.

Sure enough the door swings open and James walks in, eyes on Esa. "I do too. Matter of fact, that's who I'm here to see." He strolls on in like he owns the place and sits down, with a minor wince. He looks different. Thicker somehow, maybe a little taller. "What's happening Emma?"
Emma Her cheeks redden a bit, at the cute part, but a playful frown follows. "Do -- Doctor!" Insists Emma gently, but firmly, shaking her head in an amused fashion.
    hat is when the door opens and James is there. Turning to face him, the lass right out frowns. The changes are noticed, but not commented on, yet. Handing the prescription to Esa, there is a sigh. "James yer - yer pretty.. banged up, huh? An' ya know these rooms are private?" But there -are- two beds. "An' have ya met Esa? Esa, this is my friend James."
Esa "Er, right cute Doc-" Esa began to reply, but his eyes locked on the door; an instinctive movement of his hand to his side is given before he realized he didn't bring a sidearm. the movement was reflexive in a Military-beats-it-in-your-brain-at-boot-camp sort of way. A frown creases his lips as the man he does not know barges in. Esa is not wearing a shirt right now; minor scratches on his arms, neck and chest can be seen. He has a slight muscular physique with a health slim build. He glances back to Emma, then to James; his face softens quickly to a smile as he says "Hello James." a hand even reaches out to shake.
James Scott "Hello, Esa." The one-eyed James replies, reaching out to take Esa's hand in a shake. Well, an imitation of a shake, it's more a display of the brute force hidden in his hands. He may as well be shaking hands with Buck or Desean. "Oh, and I know you probably didn't mean anything by it, but I don't do well with guns pointed at me."

The teen's attention turns to Emma and he nods slightly, "Yeah, I decided to go all out and fight Bulk for my last fight club match. Broke his jaw and fractured his orbital floor," he stands up and carefully pulls his shirt off, revealing his scar and tattoo covered muscular physique, as well as some vicious bruising around his ribs, "but he broke six, seven, and nine."
Emma Emma is intently watching James. "I see." Emma says, calmly, nodding a little. "You'll need xrays first, ta confirm breaks. An, from there, we'll get ya tended to." She looks at Esa a second, then back to James. "I will go order tha scans." And she would turn to disappear briefly and then return. "An orderly will- will be here in a minute."
Esa Esa may not be able to imitate James shake, but the force or power behind it doesn't seem to faze him. Letting go, he shrugs. "Eight years in the Thick will get you responding to sudden intrusion differently." He noted in an offhand manner with no real threat behind the words. Esa drapes the blue undershirt back over and grabs the plaid blue button up shirt on his bed. As he throws it on, his eyes glance back to James as he took his shirt off; frowning at the scaring and vicious bruising. He buttons up the shirt quietly as Emma does her Doctoring.
James Scott "Oh trust me, I know. I'm a Captain after all." Though James doesn't say who he's with. Rather he just pulls his shirt back on. "Didn't make it out of Raccoon because I got lucky." He shoots the blonde man a wink, but it could be him blinking. The eyepatch makes it kind of hard to tell.

"But, thanks Emma. You're always saving my ass." He claps a hand onto her shoulder and gives it a squeeze, but unlike Poncho at the party it's a familiar and friendly squeeze. "It's good to have family like you."

About that time the orderly arrives and ushers James out for x-rays and consultation.
Emma The porter comes with a wheelchair for James as Emma gives him a small smile. "Ya know I got yer - yer back. It's what ya do for family." Stepping out of the way so James can go, she looks to Esa and gives him a warm smile. "Either years hm? Long time."
Esa Esa smiles back as he stood and walked over to her. "Yeah, fun times." He noted quietly, looking down to her slightly; smiling fondly. "So how have you been?" He finally asks in a soften, warm tone of voice.
Emma James is taken away, Emma shrugs a little to Esa. "O -- okay, an' don't mind James he can be.. protective. I got a few friends, who I survived Racoon with, they all can be a bit. Ta tell ya tha truth." She then shrugs hopelessly.
Esa A slight nod is given as Esa replied calmly "Well I think it is a good thing you have a people that are willing to protect you." He placed a hand softly on her arm. "Means they care about you." He adds softly, eyes looking down to her.
Emma "Aye, but -- but sometimes I wonder if it is to much, ya'know? Like, no freedom ta try my own things, I get wantin' ta keep me safe," She moves to sit beside him on the bed. "But I can't hide either."
Esa Esa takes in a breath and releases, his head nodding. "True. Being protected is one thing, but.. over protection to a point of smothering one's ability to be themselves is another." He notes calmly and looks at her; his hand gently settling on hers and squeezes. "And, if that is the case.. Then you should say something to them." He added gently.
Emma Emma goes a little red when he squeezes her hand, but gives a thankful squeeze of his hand in return. "I -- I have, but aye, they care. In know. I also know I'm useless in a fight, an' I'll likely be killed before I do anythin' handy."
Esa Esa kept his hand on hers and went silent. He mulled over what she said quietly for a minute or two before he spoke again. "In the military we have combat medics; or field medics. Those trained in combat for sixteen weeks and then have done or are trained in the medical field." His eyes gaze upon her. "I could teach you what I know, get you the training you'd need to survive an encounter. But.. like myself, field medics are not about taking on the bad guys head on. That is what the other members of your squad are for. Each has a role, or task so that not everything lies on your shoulders." He smiles a soft, warm smile to her; then he shyly looks away. "I.. have a question; about that guy.. at the party."
Emma "I know medics are not'ta go in head first, but I can't be watchd all tha time, ya know?" Emma shrugs, tilting her head a little and eyeing Esa. "Teach me, please. An' what guy? What question?"
Esa "Alright." Esa replied quietly as he kept his eyes on her. "I will train you starting tomorrow. Teach you what I know around your school and work ours." A soft smile is given to her; then a pause. "I want to help him. What can you tell me about him?" He inquired lightly, his thumb gently rubbing her backhand a little.
Poncho      It is as the two young people are sitting together, holding hands and conversing in low, earnest tones, that the hospital door receives three gentle raps. There is a pause, and then the door is pushed open.
     A pretty blond woman with wide blue eyes pokes her head through the opening and quickly glances toward the bed, her long lashes fluttering in a mixture of surprise and delight at catching the couple in such a clearly intimate position. But, just as quickly, she hides her interest with a demure half-lidding of her shining eyes.
     "Emma," the woman begins, her English thick with a throaty French accent, "Zhere is a crazy man een room three A. He is, John Doe? Say fuck me and find Emma with Red hair." Her golden brows lift as she finishes, eyes widening once more into an expression that is somehow amused, resigned, and annoyed all at once. Then, she withdraws. Clearly it's no longer her problem anymore, and besides, she simply must tell EVERYONE she knows that she just caught the pretty Scottish lass holding hands in the operating room with some mysterious stranger. There is prime gossip to be shared!
Emma Nodding to him training her, Emma was going to reply when the blonde comes in. Grey-green eyes fix on the blonde. She knows full well what sort she is. Cheeks go red, but with attention turned to the subject of someone wanting her brows lift. "N - now, may he your chance." Looking to Esa, his hand is given a squeeze before she goes to the door, and peek out, to make sure who it is that is needing her.
Esa Esa paid little mind or attention to the nurse whom entered. He noted, though, her facial expression and wondered what sort of rumors or gossip might be spread about Emma. He is drawn back to the here and now by Emma squeeze of his hand, a fond smile wrapping his lips as he nodded. "Alright." He said calmly and got up to follow her. About that time, his cell phone went off and he frowned. "Work." He mutters as he smiles apologetically to Emma. "I need to go...Maybe you can get him and I together later." He adds before giving Emma a hug and heads towards the exit.
Poncho      Down the hall in room 3A, through the door which had been closed, a familiar figure stands with his right hip braced against the paper-covered examination table. For the second time, John Doe has checked himself into the hospital for treatment. Like before he holds himself almost unnaturally still, his greying hair, greying skin, and cold eyes lending him the aspect of a statue carved from stone. he looks no more healthy than he did during his last visit, with sunken cheeks, and dark rings of exhaustion circling his dead eyes.
     Though, on his last visit he didn't have an enormous black pistol unholstered and resting on the table, one scarred old hand flattened atop it. Most people don't tend to bring a gun to see the doctor, but clearly Mr. Doe isn't most people.
Emma Nodding to Esa, Emma would of returned the sudden hug, with a blush, and then moved down the hall to room 3A. Stepping in, the lass pauses at the sight of Poncho, his frail old figure. There is a sad frown, while eyes find the gun. "Yo -- you'll nat be needin' that." Says the lass, walking in further, and tilting her head while doing so. "Yer lookin' -" A pause, it must he obvious to him too, right? "What did ya wanna see me for? Somethin' wrong?" Her tone is warm, and kind, yet full of worry.
Poncho      Mr. Doe's hand remains flattened atop the gun, fingers spread like a hairy-knuckled cage. The barrel of the weapon is angled away toward the wall, but it wouldn't take much for him to close his scarred fingers around the grip and bring the piece to bear.
     The man's cold gaze tracks Emma as she bustles through the door, eyes burning with his own mix of frosty rage and pain. He does not put his gun away, nor does he soften at her tone. But at this point, does she truly expect him to? True she has bullied him into folding once, but even that was a quiet, distant defeat. Judging by his attitude he might not even remember it.
     Sure he doesn't. Maybe that's why he has the gun out. He's afraid she'll mother him again.
     "Still need to talk." John replies, his voice quiet and hoarse, perhaps even more so than usual. Is he a bit paler than he normally is? Are his eyes a bit redder? "But that ain't why I'm here."
     Pausing, Poncho draws in a breath, then spasms, left hand jerking up to press the side of his fist against his mouth as he begins to hack and cough into it. For nearly four seconds he is trapped in that position, shoulders shaking and chest heaving as he does his best to hack out his lungs.
     Once the fit has passed, Mr. Doe lowers his hand and wipes it carelessly on the paper covering the table, returning his tired eyes to Emma.
     "Need medicine. Probly a cold. But I ain't got any money, and I cain't be coughin' while I'm out. Gonna get me killed."
Emma Emma for a moment, stands there, regarding him. When he bursts into a coughing fit, that's when the lass would move forward and put a hand on his arm, if allowed, in a quiet way of support.

"Do - don't worry 'bout tha medicine, I'll get ya some." Of course, she knows to work the system some and a few pills are nothing. "Ya need more than meds, ya need ta rest, yer - yer gonna kill yerself goin' like this."

Then he mentions needing to talk, and the response is a nod. "What did ya wanna know?"
Poncho      John does not immediately protest Emma's touch as she rests her hand on his arm, but that could be the coughing holding most of his attention. As close as she is, however, it is even more clear to her just how much weight the old brute must have lost. He is by no means a small man, being 6'0 even, and beneath his worn-out coat his arm is solid. But his wasted features suggest that he was once likely more than leanly strong. He must have been fairly muscular before whatever happened, happened.
     Once more in control of himself, John shakes the redhead's hand off and limps a step back, lifting his pistol as he does so. he does not point it at her, however, keeping the oversized weapon aimed down and away toward the corner of the room.
     "Will rest later." he grunts dismissively, the corners of his mouth tilting down into a slight scowl. "What we got to talk 'bout is more important. You seen a Licker before. You said as much. And now I'm in Paris, you been showin' up in places most don't."
     Staring hard into Emma's face, the ragged old tree root of a man curls his left hand into a fist, scarred knuckles cracking. The gun in his right hand shakes, and he does his best not to break out into another coughing fit, briefly clenching his teeth together to will it away.
     "I reckon it's time you tell me all you know 'bout Umbrella, and this goddamn mess."
Emma After a time, Emma would move her hand away from his arm, said hand going to meet the other in front of her. He won't give up on the fact that he is killing himself this way, and the lass won't argue it either, knowing it's a battle she won't win. "Let - let me check ya first, listen ta yer lungs an' such."

Wearing her stethoscope around her neck, it's removed so it can be used. Even if there is an uneasy sense in that motion. Biting her lower lip a little, there is a quick nod. "Aye I've- I've seem one, but why do ya need ta know? And what do ya plan ta - ta do with tha information?"
Poncho      John gives no indication that he is going to allow Emma anywhere near him with her stethoscope. There is no removing of jacket or shirt, dropping of his pistol, or verbal confirmation that yes, she can get all handsy. Instead, she is given an impassive glare as he maintains his defensive posture, two steps away with his gun up and fist clenched.
     "I been fightin' Umbrella alone for three years now, kid." Mr. Doe replies hoarsely, taking shallow breaths to avoid kicking his lungs into another spasm, "I killed monsters, men, and men that might as fuckin' well be monsters. And I'm gonna keep killin' till the damn corporation begs me to stop. Then, I'm gonna kill some more. Now, I'm bein' polite with you. I'm here in a place you can feel safe, and I'm askin'. That's better than showin' up in your house and puttin' a bag on your head."
     Is it really possible that John Doe is crazy enough to ask someone for free drugs, then explain that kidnapping is a possible avenue in their future? How unhinged is he? How unhinged does he have to be, to wage a one man war on a mega corporation like Umbrella?
Emma It would be a far cry for Emma to say she didn't believe him. He is one of the few whose 'threat' she believes. Still, it doesn't really show because she isn't about to back dowb. So the lass listens, watches, assess, and senses he isn't lieing. Still, the stethoscope is in her hands.

"If - if yer wantin' tha medicine, I need ta make sure on what ya got else yer back here sicker an' I bet yer not wantin' that." There is a small nod for him to allow her accesses for this.

"As for tryin' ta kidnap me, been kidnapped before," A pause, there is flickering pain, but mostly fear in her eyes. Fear from what happened to her. "Where I live you'd like be shot done before ya got inside." No, it doesn't sound like a lie, her home is a fortress. "What I tell ya, I help ya with. That's tha deal, I've not risked my life ta sit back an' do nothin', I risked it ta get involved an' help."
Poncho      "Be quick." is John's taciturn response to Emma pushing the stethoscope on him. He makes no move to remove his shirt or jacket. Instead, he spreads his arms for her, giving her room to move forward and slip her hands under the garments. His shirt is not tucked in, and both it and his jacket are quite baggy, so this should be easily done.
     If Emma chooses to touch him, she will find his skin to be dry and hot, as if he were running a slight fever. Surprisingly though, aside from the fact his ribs are showing, he is cut for an old guy. Beneath his hairy skin there is only ropy muscle and bone, tense with discomfort at his situation. Unfortunately, listening to his lungs would reveal a very obvious rattle. Probably a chest cold.
     Standing still and momentarily silent, the ragged old man does not threaten Emma further. He has explained the situation. If she wants to take the information and hide in a compound, well...She might lose some friends. it all depends on how far this crazed man is willing to go, and how skilled he actually is.
     "I don't care if ya come with me or not. Long as ya don't fuck anything up, and bring some protection so you might got a chance to survive. I ain't got time to deal with people who cain't handle at least that much."
Esa Having gotten half way down the street, his phone chirped with a reply and Esa frowned and shook his head. They didn't need him after all; perfect. It took a few minutes to find himself back inside the hospital and find the room Emma disappeared into. There comes three gentle knocks against the door and Esa waits for an answer.
Emma Emma will examine him, her touch is gentle and warm, soft to the touch. She can feel the heat of his skin, hear his lungs. Pulling her hand away, there is a small nod to herself. "I - I know what I'll get ya. An' make that a promise, if ya go, ya let me know. And I'll take care of myself. I ain't gonna be left behind."

Before she can get into Umbrella, there is a knock. "Come in." The lass calls.
Poncho      John Doe stands perfectly still as Emma steps into his personal space, sliding gentle hands beneath his shirt. He is silent as he suffers through the routine checks, if indeed you can refer to submitting to the touch of such a pretty lass as suffering. Either way, he does not shoot her.
     The door behind her, however?
     At the light rapping, Mr. Doe extends his right arm over Emma's left shoulder and braces his wrist, centering the barrel of his overly huge .50 caliber pistol on the entry. He does not say anything. let it be a surprise to whomever has chosen to disturb them.
Esa The door opens and in enters Esa; he turned and closed it again before looking back at them. The .50 caliber pistol does not faze Esa. It makes him quirk a brow upward. "So, this is how guests are greeted when seeing the guy that was wearing a poncho." He said passively. "You can put that away, not here to harm ya; here to help." He raises his hands up slowly and takes either side of the opened trench coat to pull them gently back "See, no gun."