#it’s a medical thing

[clonemedickix]

Rating: M

Word count: 6K

Characters: CT 6116 Kix, OC Medics: Volte, Patch, Patcher, Voodoo, Siren, Carpal, Sawbones, Minder, Whiskey, Quarter

*more medics will be mentioned in further chapters of this miniseries*

Warnings: Snide Medical Humor

Excerpt Summary - Arrival to the 1st Annual GAR Medic Convention. The medics arrive at the hotel, get their schedule, start having a reunion of friends.

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The 1st Annual GAR Medic Convention

Chapter 1 - Arrivals

Volte sighed tiredly. He had only just returned from a mission with the Dragon Company, and it had been a wringer. Even General Lin had looked bushed as she disembarked from the Talon, headed for the Dragon Cave and much needed rest, flanked by Fives and Echo. Volte’s responsibilities for the trip weren’t complete until he got the wounded men settled in sick bay, however, and he stood at the ramp of the Talon watching the hover stretchers pass by with his brothers. He followed the last one to the Grand Army of the Republic’s medical unit near the center of the base, his helmet under one arm and his data pad in his other hand. Maker, would he be glad when he could take off this armor and unwind.

As he passed into the large hospital’s corridors, he crossed paths with other medics, doing much the same as he was, checking in their wounded, or checking on them. The Dragon Company men technically fell under the wing of the 501st Legion, so any wounded men of their group would end up alongside others of Skywalker’s large battalion. Volte headed down the hall to the appropriate med bay and breezed through the door without pausing.

There were ten Dragons needing to be checked in, and Volte made for the nearest medical technician, a human female with a data pad. She was in conversation with Kix, Captain Rex’s Torrent Company medic. As he walked up, Volte caught the tail end of their chat.

“So, Kix, you going to the convention? It starts tomorrow,” the girl asked lightly.

“Planning on it. The Captain made sure to get me leave to go from General Skywalker. I’m looking forward to it. Supposed to be a lot of good information, and lots of free drinks from the sponsors. I’m not going to pass that chance up - the Senate might turn around and never do another one after they see how much their bar tab runs,” Kix said with a little chuckle at the end.

The girl acknowledged Volte’s presence with a little chin lift. “What’s up, Volte? Got some new people for me to patch up?”

Kix greeted Volte with a raised hand to clasp, and Volte grabbed it with a smile. “I have ten guys, though I doubt they’ll require much from you but some rest and bacta patches. Had them pretty well taken care of before we got back.” He took hold of the medical tech’s data pad and signed off on the patient registration quickly.

“Yeah, your guys usually don’t hang out with me for long.” Her eyes suddenly snapped up and she stood to attention as a call went out to the general room: “Attention! General on the floor!” Kix and Volte also snapped to attention quickly, waiting for the general in question to arrive and release them.

General Lin breezed into the room, still in her armor, covered in scuffs and mud and looking as glorious as she normally did. She smiled at the two medics and nodded, smoothly telling them, “At ease.” Everyone relaxed, as she moved over to check on each of her men. Volte and Kix shared a look between them, silently acknowledging her actions as a good leader. The General always stopped by the hospital before she took her own rest; it was a policy for her to put her men before herself. She made small talk with her guys, exhorting them to rest and get better quick - she’d expect them back at training soon as they could get there. Finished seeing her Dragons, Lara stepped over to the little knot of medical professionals and nodded to Kix. “Made it back in one piece, I see, Kix?”

“Of course, General. The Captain always leads us straight. I think he’s back too - probably in the mess hall or the barracks.” Kix flashed her a little wryly cocked eyebrow, assuming that was going to be the next question from her.

Lara gave Kix a rueful grin and cut her eyes to Volte. “Thanks for getting the men settled, Volte. I’m gonna head out now, if you don’t need anything from me?”

“I think I’ve got it handled, General.” And even if he didn’t, he wasn’t going to admit it to her in front of Kix and the hospital staff.

Lara nodded and turned to leave, but Kix’s voice stopped her.

“Hey General, did you give Volte leave to attend the conference? It starts tomorrow.”

Lara stopped and looked back at Volte, confused and surprised. “Conference? What conference?”

“You didn’t even ask, Volte?,” Kix asked chidingly.

“We were on a mission - I wasn’t sure we’d be back in time.” Volte shrugged his shoulders like it wasn’t a big deal to him, anyway.

“General, the First Annual GAR Medic Conference is tomorrow, on Hosnian Prime. All the GAR medical officers are attending. Supposed to have a lot of good education, new technology coming out and such.” Kix’s voice was both solicitous and slightly pleading. He wanted Volte to attend - even with all the educational blah blah blah, there would be partying after, and the clones hardly ever got a break to unwind.

“A medic conference?” Lara smiled brightly. “Like an EMS conference on Earth! Oh for sure Volte is going.” Volte looked up, ready to protest, and Lara cut him off. “Even if I have to dig my scrubs out of my drawer to come here and take care of these men myself, you’re going. You’re not going to miss something as fun as a conference. Conferences are legit! So much fun! Consider your leave approved, Volte, and you enjoy yourself. Give me a call if you end up in the brig and I’ll come bust you out.” Lara grinned at him and turned to walk away, leaving a beaming Kix and a flustered Volte standing in her wake.

Kix smiled and smacked Volte on the shoulder. “YEAH! We can catch the same shuttle out. This is going to be so much FUN!”

Volte looked somewhat uncertain, but bowed to the inevitable. His work done in the med bay, he made his farewell to his brothers and walked back to his barracks to get cleaned up, and packed. If the General said he was going, he knew better than to refuse.

The next morning, Volte made his way to the shuttle for Hosnian Prime with Kix at his side. The Torrent Company medic was excitedly chirping away about all the sessions being offered at the conference; he was looking forward to seeing the new technology on offer. Looking sideways at Volte, Kix remembered the Dragon Company already carried some unconventional tech that no other squads had. “So where did you get some of those toys you carry, Volte?”

“The General. She brought them from her home world,” Volte answered. “Some of it is pretty simple by our standards, but work really well. Like her CAT tourniquets. And Quick Clot stuff. I’ve liked using it. Those tourniquets though - they’re crazy effective. I’m surprised we don’t have something like them. You’d think with all the smart things the Kaminoans come up with, they wouldn’t over look something so plain and simple.”

“Wonder if they’ll have tech like that at this conference?,” Kix was curious of the possibilities. He’d heard there would be a new hover stretcher to ogle, as well as some of the latest medical interior upgrades for the LA ATs, converting some to straight medical evacuation ships. They were supposed to have fully kitted out displays of the new platforms, and that was always fun to see, climb around in and dream about.

“I have no idea, Kix. I honestly gave this conference no thought because I wasn’t sure I’d make it. I vaguely remember the brochure said something about new monitors, new meds, that ship kit, some new first aid implements… Who knows what all goodies they might have.” Volte was still somewhat tired after returning from their latest mission, only to turn around and ship out for this conference… Even for a pleasure trip it sucked to get up early when he’d wanted to rest. He yawned widely as they climbed aboard the airship and found seats. It was full of other medics, all heading for the same convention.

“Hey bud, quit that! We are going to have a blast at this thing. Can’t have you acting like an old man before we even get there.” Kix nudged Volte roughly and gave him a sharp look. “We’ve got some serious partying to do - we never get to really let loose even at 79s. So you quit that yawning.”

“Okay, okay,” Volte grumbled back. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “I’m gonna take a nap for a while if you’re so determined to drag me to the bar every night. Be a social butterfly and talk to the others. Poor souls - you have a captive audience back there to listen to you blab about your magical hangover cure.”

Kix looked at Volte with a disgruntled frown, but did exactly that. Turning, he caught sight of several Corrie Guard medics - Patch, Patcher, Voodoo, Siren and Carpal were all loosely grouped in the rear of the shuttle. Kix gave his now snoring companion an eye roll and got up to move closer to the others; he knew a few of them quite well. He was only vaguely surprised that Commander Fox had given all his medics leave to come on this trip, but then the Corries had the benefit of being on Coruscant, with access to the Grand Republic Medical Center. They could just do a quick transport and have any wounded in front of the surgeons without much effort. And even the anal retentive Corries needed a night off occasionally.

“What’s up, people? Ready for this extravaganza of medical trivia, new toys and booze influenced fuckery?,” Kix said with a grin that would have done the Cheshire Cat proud. He looked up and nodded to Sawbones, who was sitting by himself a short distance away. Kix’s buddy Minder was sitting across from Sawbones, and Kix reached out, gave him a quick fist bump. He’d come back to talk to him when he was done with the Corries; Kix was a boy that loved the spotlight and could never keep still.

The group of Corrie medics all looked back at the Torrent Company man a little warily; all of the 501st had a reputation for generally being on the shady side of following rules, if not outright crazy. Kix was known to be one of the sharpest in the bunch; some said the only 501st member with a brain cell, after Captain Rex. But that was a misconception. Aside from Captain Rex, Kix had joint custody of the second single brain cell, and that only during his duty hours. The rest of his time was spent at 79’s, where he and Jesse, Hardcase, Fives and Echo stirred up enough trouble to make themselves as infamous with the Corries as their General was to the Jedi Council.

They’d all noticed Kix came in the company of Volte from Dragon Company - now there was a guy with a reputation. Known to be a steady and sharp medic, one of the best ever trained on Kamino, he’d been hand selected by the Dragon Rider, General Lara Lin, who’d kitted him out like a ARC Trooper, trained him in other worldly witchcraft and fighting skills previously unheard of in their galaxy, and given him special tools for use on their men. She’d even gone so far as to insist all of Dragon Company have first response medical skills, so technically they could all have qualified for field medic training on Kamino, but Volte was the Chief Medical Officer of the Company. The Dragons were nigh untouchable - trouble slid off of them like rain on a windscreen. No one could ever really explain how their General kept them all out of hot water after some of their escapades, but it had garnered them the image of a group of dark, mysterious renegades, strutting around the Coruscant military base like so many black and gold peacocks.

Patcher finally spoke up for his group. “Not everybody is going to the conference just to see how many panties they can drop or drinks they can keep down, Kix.”

“I came for the education too, Patcher, but hey, if panties start dropping around me, who am I to protest?” Kix grinned at the Corries mischievously, patted the back of the seat he was leaning on and turned to move to sit with Minder and Sawbones. He didn’t get far when he heard one of the Corrie group members pipe up.

“We could probably get by without going to a conference if your buddy up there would share his toys the General gives him,” Voodoo said with a little bitterness in his voice. “Heard his success rate on wounded men shot up by fifty percent after she implemented her “Stop the Bleed” policy and handed out those special tourniquets.”

“Now why would you Corries need tactical equipment like that? You don’t go anywhere that demands special toys, except maybe when you visit the dark lower levels.” Kix’s eyes narrowed a little as he moved in for the kill. “Then you’d just need some of those ‘antibiotics’ she’s always talking about using on her homeworld. Said they came about specifically to treat the koochie cooties you’re used to dealing with.” He laughed as all the men shot him dirty looks for insulting both their purpose and extracurricular activities.

“I can see this is going to be one of those trips,” Siren muttered to his neighbor Patch. “Why do all of the guys in the 501st have to be such di’kuts?”

“Because their General has a fat head and lets them think they can get away with just about everything, just like he does,” Patch grumbled back.

“At least the Dragon Company General isn’t quite as obnoxious as Skywalker, and far better to look at,” Carpal murmured.

“Or General Secura. I’d watch her all day long,” Siren said dreamily. “She’s got some nice assets, that one.”

There were grumbles of agreement to that statement, as the men settled back down into their own heads for the rest of the flight.

Kix had snugged himself into the seat beside Minder, propping his feet up on the armrest of the seat catty corner to him across the aisle, the picture of laid back relaxation. Sawbones was reading a holo fic on his data pad, quietly ignoring all other life forms on the shuttle. Kix gave him a brief glance, decided he didn’t want to be bothered, and turned to Minder. “How’s it been going at the Jedi Temple? Haven’t see you around of late.”

“Not too bad. Always lots of little boo boos to fix on the younglings as they start advancing in their physical training. And of course, the padawans with their training remotes - they always have little burns from not blocking fast enough.” The red headed medic smiled and looked over at his old batch mate. “Other than that, just sprains, strains and the odd broken ankle or wrist. Sometimes we get a truly wounded Jedi in from the field, but usually you guys are good about taking care of that before they get back to Coruscant.”

“Sounds kind of boring,” Kix said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah well, not all of us can run around dodging blaster fire anymore,” Minder said, nodding to his cane. He’d broken his leg and been hit by shrapnel at Khorm when Dooku’s assassin Asaj Ventress bombed the medical tents, and was left requiring the permanent assistance of a cane to get around. “At least they kept me working somewhere I’m of value, rather than just decommissioning me.” Minder shrugged. “I love working with the younglings anyway. Kids are always so much more fun than adults.”

Kix gave him an inquiring look, as if he didn’t believe that sentiment at all. “Kids are terrifying. The only thing I know about kids is it’s bad when they’re quiet, and they’re annoying when they’re not. You can keep allllll the kids, Minder.”

Minder laughed at his friend. “Seriously, Kix. Kids aren’t bad. They are actually pretty fun to work with once they decide to trust you, and they love stories and getting stickers for being cooperative. Give me a kid to treat any day.”

Kix grunted in reply, and pulled his data pad out. Everybody got cozy on the shuttle; they had a few hours of flight time to go, so Kix figured he would get some reading in. There was plenty of time ahead in the three day conference to catch up with people.

The shuttle arced its way down through the atmosphere of Hosnian Prime, over the white beaches towards the hotel district. The 1st Annual GAR Medic Convention was to be held in their fancy convention center, in the heart of their many high rise buildings with its own commanding view of the sea. The center had multiple restaurants and bars attached for the ease of feeding guests present for large gatherings; you never had to actually leave during your stay to get food or beverage and spirits, and could conveniently return to your hotel room whether by foot or by droid-assist. The Convention Center had made sure to bring in droid-assist reinforcements for this particular gathering of weathered clone troopers; they figured there would be plenty of men they’d have to literally scoop off the floor each night. While the convention planners had all protested the idea that the famed boys in white would act out of place, more rational souls had remained silent with raised eyebrows, then reasserted the need for more droids.

The Coruscant shuttle disgorged its passengers on the landing pad of the Hosnian Prime Mariton. It was one of the finer hotels on the planet, and had graciously waived many fees to attract this business from the Republic. There were many compensations to be had behind closed doors, if they were able to impress the many sponsors at this gathering. Just a couple of the big name weapon manufacturers alone could keep the hotel in business for many years. There always existed the give and take behind the scenes, when large companies did things for ‘charity’ or tax breaks, hoping to polish their public image while still making a hot credit in the hand.

Volte woke when the shuttle locked its landing gear and touched down on the hotel pad. Through bleary brown eyes, he took in the scene outside the ship’s doors, seeing flashy neon lights and busy sky traffic. It wasn’t much different from Coruscant, and for a short second he was confused enough to wonder if they’d even left. Kix disabused him of that notion quickly, as he walked by and smacked him on the shoulder roughly.

“Rise and shine pretty boy; we’ve arrived. You missed some truly stimulating conversations about medical advancement,” Kix said with a serious face.

“Did I?,” Volte said a little wearily.

“No. But you sleeping definitely made the flight boring for me,” Kix said firmly. “Now, let’s get our room assignment and hit the bar! Maybe there will be some hot chicks there to talk to, tell them all about being a GAR medic.”

“That’s fine Kix, but you better get your own room if you plan on bringing anybody back with you for the night. I’m not getting trapped again like that time on Canto Bight, when you came home with two Twi’leks and tried to foist one on me.” Volte gave Kix a scathing, scandalized look and shook his head. “Get your jollies off in a dark corner or other. In fact, if you decide you DO need a room, tell them to put it on my General’s tab. She’d cover it, I’m sure.”

Kix laughed a bit. She might just at that - she had offered to get them out of the brig if they ended up in one. She seemed to have no illusions whatsoever about what happened at one of these conferences. Kix wondered if there was a story attached to that, and whether it could be wheedled out of her at 79s some night.

The two medics followed a line of others to the front desk of the hotel and received their room assignment, then turned and strolled over to the lift for their floor. The lobby had been chock full of clone troopers, every one of them a field medic or associated with advanced emergency care. Sawbones and another clone named Whiskey climbed aboard the lift with Kix and Volte, both men in the Wolfpack. Sawbones typically enjoyed Kix’s enthusiasm, and Whiskey was a relaxed, quiet trooper, already having ascended to administration. He nodded to Volte and Kix, leaning back against the wall as the lift climbed into the sky.

“We should have a good view of the beaches from these floors,” Volte said lightly.

“Right, all the better to entice the ladies back to our rooms,” Kix said with a slight leer in his voice. The three other clones rolled their eyes. None were averse to a pretty date, but none of them were quite the famed man whore that Kix was, with his flashy scalp tattoos and bravado. Volte silently stared at the ceiling, wondering if he paid someone to get Kix laid the first night, would he calm down for the rest? Or perhaps he could just sedate him and tie him to the bed while the rest of them went to class, with a sock for a gag….

The men finally reached the fiftieth floor and filed out of the lift to head for their rooms. Funnily enough, they were adjoining. Sawbones and Whiskey looked at each other silently as they realized they’d share a door with their rambunctious 501st counterpart. Their thoughts unintentionally ran in the same vein as Volte’s, as they mentally ran back over the items they had packed for the trip. Sadly, rope, gags and extra tranquilizers hadn’t made it into their bags. Maybe they could get him plastered enough he’d just pass out. Three minds feverishly worked over the question of how to get actual sleep and time for reflection with Kix in the mix. Sawbones had noticed Volte looked particularly haggard already, as they pushed their door open to Kix jovially singing and dancing across the floor to claim his bed, “Shawty had them apple bottoms jeans, boots with the fur, the whole club lookin at her…” The Dragon Company medic sighed, ironically thanking his leader for introducing Kix to Earthen rap music. This party would have been right up her alley.

After getting their packs stowed, the two medics wandered back to the lobby to make plans for their dinner. Volte felt a bit better after his nap on the ride out, and he had to admit it was impressive, seeing all the clone medics milling around on the hotel’s ground floor. There were so many squad, company and battalion patches he just about couldn’t name them all. He saw the insignia for Shadow Squad, 327th Star Corps, the Mist Squad, a guy possibly from Republic intelligence, the wave patch of the Tsunami Squad, the fire bird of Phoenix Squad, Violet Company, the 218th, the 387th, and the Phoenix Company. There were many more, of course, but those were readily recognizable. A few of the faces he also knew, as did Kix evidently, who was loudly hailing the clones he made out in the crowd. It was a pleasing family reunion, so many brothers, all with interests and jobs in common.

Volte had brought along the booklet detailing the many classes on offer each day, as well as the displays from the vendors and sponsors. The pamphlet even promised there would be free giveaways of items at each booth, and Volte dreamily wondered what kind of goodies he was going to come away with. Kix eagerly read over his shoulder and pondered aloud about what classes he wanted to attend.

“Look at that V! ‘Advanced Airway Management for Facial Trauma: What To Do When Holes Are Present That Shouldn’t Be’! I bet that’s a great class! And ‘Rapid Sedation: How to Restrain Your Patient in Five Seconds Without Using Conduit Tape’. I need to try that on Hardcase!” Kix laughed gleefully, reading further down the list and exclaiming aloud which ones sounded the most interesting.

Sawbones and Minder happened by with Whiskey in tow. “Anything good on the schedule?,” Sawbones grumbled out in his deep, gravely voice.

Minder had his own copy of the roster and was perusing it with Whiskey. “I might go to this one - “How to Approach a Youngling: They’re Not Armed Bombs.” Minder chuckled. “If people only knew…Kids are best hidden secret in the medical field.” All four of his brothers looked at him like he was somewhat crazy, then went back to the brochure.

“Preventing Infections, as Easy as Wash Your Kriffing Hands,” Volte laughed softly. “Who got to name these classes? Sounds like something my General would come up with.”

Sawbones suddenly gave a low barking laugh. “Communicable Diseases: How To Avoid Them While Sitting in a Small Enclosed Space With Others.” The old medic shook his head with a smile, “I agree, whoever got to come up with these titles is a jewel. We need to find out and treat them to a round or two.”

“Weird Things Radiology Techs Have Found in a Rectum and Why Bacta Doesn’t Belong There Either,” Whiskey read, his eyebrows raised as high as they could go. “At least they have a sense of humor. Maybe this thing won’t be boring.”

“Well, everything starts tomorrow at 0800, so we might as well find some dinner and find something to do until bedtime,” Sawbones drawled out.

Kix looked like he was about to speak up, but Volte quickly cut him off. “And no that doesn’t mean shopping for a date.”

The group of men moved off in search of food, still walking and talking about the classes on offer. By the time they sat down, each men had a rough idea of which classes they would work to attend, if they couldn’t make it to all of them. There were five per day, starting at 0800 and each lasting an hour and a half. Volte felt they each had good information to learn, and he wanted to make it to them all, if Kix would allow it.

The official class list read thus:

Primeday:

0800 - Advanced Airway Management for Facial Trauma: What To Do When Holes Are Present That Shouldn’t Be

1000 - Rapid Sedation: How to Restrain Your Patient in Fives Seconds Without the Use of Conduit Tape

1300 - How to Approach Younglings: They’re Not Armed Bombs

1500 - Preventing Infections: As Easy As Wash Your Kriffing Hands

1700 - Communicable Diseases: How to Avoid Them While Sitting in a Small Enclosed Space with Others

Centaxday:

0800 - Urine Business: Keep the Flow Alive or Your Patient Won’t Be

1000 - Long Bone Trauma: If That Limb is A-Floppin, The Ship Better Not Be Rockin!

1300 - An Ode to Burns: My Skin is on Fire, It Hurts. How to Rapidly Treat Burn Trauma and Pain

1500 - Hypovolemic Shock: That Red Stuff Was Supposed to Stay on the Inside

1700 - Weird Things Radiology Techs Have Found in a Rectum and Why Bacta Doesn’t Belong There Either

Taungsday -

0800 - Everything You Never Wanted to Know About Pregnant Females ( Otherwise Known As How to Catch a Flying Greased Puffer Pig at the least Opportune Moment)

1000 - When Everything Goes to Mustafar in a Camtono: How to Remain Calm During the Worst Crises

1300 - Splinters: How to Deal with Your Vod When They’re Being a Big Baby

1500 - Medics Outrank Everyone - A Motto To Live By

1700 - Take the Jedi Path - Let it Go: How to Handle Grief and Loss in the Ranks

The small knot of clones ended up wandering into one of the sports bar type restaurants of the large hotel. The place was packed by their brethren, all either at tables, in booths or are the bar. It was a raucous scene, and Kix’s face lit up with joy at the prospect of swapping stories and drinks with al the men present. He angled his way to the bar to make his first order, dragging Volte with him while Sawbones found them somewhere to sit. It wasn’t usually hard for the gritty old medic to get his way with others - his entire persona was intimidating, if his gruff, deadpan words didn’t make them hop and run. He was able to secure them a large booth near the center of the restaurant, where they could commune with everyone easily and hear the chatter.

Volte and Kix made it to the table not long after, bearing everyone’s first round of drinks, followed by an ARC medic named Quarter, and Voodoo. They were both in the Coruscant Guard and knew the group at the table fairly well. The men all traded greetings and fist bumps, settling back into the cushions as they took in the scene.

Quarter raised his chin a bit at Volte after taking a swig of his fizzy drink, launching into a question. “Got any good stories from the front these days, Volte? We hear all kinds of rumors about you Dragons and that General of yours, but nobody knows how much of it is bantha poodoo or real.”

Volte laughed a little ruefully before replying. “You know, people like to make up crap about us, like we are some top secret mystery brigade, but I think you’d be surprised how boring we are in reality.”

“How can it be boring when you work with a karking dragon?,” Voodoo exclaimed. “That alone is worth talking about! Has that thing eaten anyone yet?”

“Nope. He’s not just some mindless animal - he’s as smart as you or me. I did see him step on a few Seppys during a battle though. They were quite a bit flatter in places they shouldn’t have been when he moved off. And if he goes to burn something - straight to ash. Nothing left. Hottest fires you can imagine.” Volte shook his head in wonder, remembering some of the things he’d seen. “But what about you guys? Surely you have plenty of good dirt on all the political types, working here in the veritable beating heart of the galaxy.”

Voodoo laughed. “Oh there’s always dirt. Thank the Force for those implants the Kaminoans fitted us with, because otherwise half of the command staff would have the gift that keeps on giving and about ten children stowed away here and there. Not much to do, guarding Coruscant, and when those pretty girls hit you up it’s hard to refuse.” He gave Volte a little salute with the neck of his fizz bottle. There were general chuckles all around; none of the men were blushing virgins and all knew boredom and stress led to the men finding ‘other’ entertainment. “I’ve heard rumors there’s going to be a clone dating service start up on the super hush and hush. Evidently Commander Fox knows the business owner … incredibly well…,” he said with a bit of a wink.

Minder choked on his drink. “A dating service for clones? Seems like a big risk to take - we never know if we’re coming back from any deployment, and if they got caught they’d probably get shipped back to Kamino for reconditioning.” Volte nodded with his eyebrows up at the news. He was no stranger to clones hiding relationships; Dragon Company and Torrent Company had more than one high up military secret relationship they were protecting.

“Hey why shouldn’t we have relationships if we want them?,” Kix demanded rather angrily. “We are people too. We have just as many needs as some nat born!” He saw Quarter nodding with him, though Whiskey and Sawbones both wore rather resigned, skeptical expressions.

Voodoo shrugged. “Imagine if all the clones got a steady girl and had kids, though. We’d probably over populate the galaxy in less than a year. Of course, that’s if we managed to get around the sterility implants. I’ve heard rumors that a few clones have gotten some girls knocked up, but I’ve never seen it in real life. Could be a fairy tale.”

The table fell silent for a short moment as each man wondered about their rights, or lack thereof, and all took a quick slug of their drinks to wash away the bitter taste of resignation. Their musing was shortly interrupted by the arrival of Carpal, who was working his way toward the exit. He didn’t prefer loud crowds with the ringing in his ears at baseline, a parting gift from Asaj Ventress at Khorm. He nodded to the group as he walked by with a small bucket of drinks for himself; he preferred sitting in quiet places where he could read. Carpal was an older clone, his graying beard lending him a look of wizened knowledge that others deferred to.

Sawbones raised his bottle to acknowledge the medic, grunting out, “Heading back to your room, Carpal?”

The grizzled clone nodded. “You know I don’t do these loud gatherings. I’ve got my stash now and a good book I brought with me. You know where to find me if you need me,” he said, his voice a little louder than others to compensate for the inner ear issues. “I’ll see you boys in class tomorrow. Behave, children,” he said as he ambled on past them to the door.

To Kix's utter dismay, the rest of the evening passed with no pretty women appearing at the bar; only a steady stream of clones came and went. Their little group threw in the towel somewhat early, as Volte wanted to get some rest and Sawbones had used up all of his stored up reserves on dealing with people; the man was never the most outgoing of medics, and his patience for foolishness was nonexistent. The men headed back to their rooms, cleaned up and hit the sheets; all were unconscious as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

Credits:

Kix - CT 6116 Medic of Torrent Company, 501st Legion

Volte - CT 2403 Dragon Company CMO, property of CloneMedicKix

Patch - Coruscant Guard Medic, property of Sunshinedaydream

Patcher - CT 1110 Coruscant Guard CMO, property of Stargazingbunny

Voodoo - CT 0127 Coruscant Guard medic, property of Sev-on-Kamino

Siren - CT 6161 Coruscant Guard Medic, property of 523rd Rebel

Carpal - CC 6666 Coruscant Guard medic, property of Mythical Illustrator

Sawbones - CT 2697 Wolfpack CMO, 104th Battalion, property of Wizardofrozz

Minder - CT 6334-2 Jedi Medical Company, property of Mythical Illustrator

Whiskey - CC 6891 CMO 104th Battalion, property of Banks's-rat

Quarter - ARC 2525 Republic Intelligence medic, property of Hetalianskywalker

@523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @villanousace @mythical-illustrator @theogfulcrum22 @king-chaos-world @sunshinesdaydream @starrylothcat @anxiouspineapple99 @sev-on-kamino @mire-draws-things @the-bad-batch-baroness @cloneloverrrrr @mandos-mind-trick @padawancat97 @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @isthereanechoinhere96 @jediknightjana @wackylurker @moonlightwarriorqueen @wizardofrozz @multi-fan-dom-madness @starqueensthings @liluthenerd @sweetmugofcocoa @vodika-vibes @banksys-rat @a-single-tulip @hetalianskywalker @homemade-clones @swarovski-yoda @starrrgazingbunny

@marierg

Dividers done by myself and @dystopicjumpsuit

#worksbyclonemedickix #kix's art #1st annual GAR medic convention #it’s a medical thing #medic convention #others ocs #original clone characters #original clone trooper #OC CMO Volte #kix fanfic #clone medic kix #oc sundays #the clone wars #starwars fandom #star wars #the clone wars fanart #starwars fanart #starwars the clone wars #the clone wars fan #the clone wars fanfiction

[accidentalkilljoys]

What order do you take pills in?

A followup post, because this has been fascinating!

#meds #medication #pills #ways of doing things

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail'' #ah tumblr... #writeblr #warm up #idk . having trouble writing rn #ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum #i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for #i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" ..... #no.... not really..... #idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography #like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days #furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing... #this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey. #idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me. #i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will #actually ever happen #ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum

[raynedayys2]

Normalize letting trans kids live.

Every trans child on this planet deserves to be safe & supported.

#text post #lgbtq #lgbt #trans #transgender #nonbinary #queer #gender queer #genderfluid #nex benedict #say their name & the name of every other trans people killed from hate #Nex deserved to grow up. And they deserved to feel safe at school. neither of those things will happen now. #when I first saw this story a couple days ago I was enraged to read that not only were they denied medical care they were also suspended

[ozzyeelz]

It’s him again🙄

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #art #digital art #my art #ozias draws a thing #fanart #my artwork #tf2 fanart #tf2 doodles #digital doodle #doodles #tf2 medic #medic tf2 #medic team fortress 2 #medic #the devil tf2 #tf2 the devil #the devil #idk what to tag this tbh #this will find the right people I hope #tf2 comics

[heraxic]

medic girl dinner 2

#tf2 #tf2 shitpost #tf2 medic #tf2 engie #tf2 engineer #tf2 spy #i feel that i should clarify i dont have a thing for cannibalism i just think this is funny #fanart #my art #sketch #also engie is getting his arm amputated for the gunslinger not just cause medic forgot to pack lunch

[turns-out-its-adhd]

#adhd meds #adhd memes #neurodivergence #adult adhd #adhd #neurodiversity #neurodiversesquad #adhd things #adhd brain #neurodiverse stuff #actually adhd #adhd medication #adhd problems #adhd stuff #adhd tumblr #living with adhd

[wackarat]

-and the doctor was never heard from again!

#medic tf2 #tf2 engineer #they either talk about normal things or something like how they could durn demoman into a human molotov one or the other #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 fanart #gunslinger

[vaxxman]

Could I request Medic having The Mom Grip on Scout’s shoulder after the speedy moron almost let a mercenary secret slip while they weee getting groceries?

Three Europeans and two Americans walk into a grocery store in New Mexico.

I hope this is the right meme.

More silliness below.

This comic is the antithesis of the "wtf is a kilometre" joke.

The faces they make when they can't quite identify the type of brown bread in the bread aisle.

You don't know how [insert nationality here] you are until you go overseas and things are different.

Spy obviously has no problems with pretending to know how much a gallon of milk is, he just peeks into his conversion chart notes, pretending it's his shopping list.

I want to think Heavy is completely fine with having to readjust to a new unit system, he just eyeballs most practical things anyways by holding them up and mumbling about how they approximately weigh like a chicken or his kettle bell etc. He's always been living in practical ignorant bliss.

Medic has a peer reviewed meltdown the first time he realises there's no uniformity in "a cup of ____" because every object has different densities. He's diligent about memorising the conversion rates for ounces, pounds, the most common things etc., and recovers ok. He goes through the same stages of grief rage when he finds out about distances and lengths.

Just remember four inches are 10.16 cm and pray no one asks you to specify anything bigger than inches.

Everyone does a mental victory lap when they manage to guess how much Celsius the weather is because they keep forgetting it's Celsius*5/9+32=Fahrenheit, Engineer reminds them patiently.

The true victories are the correct temperature guesses we've made along the way.

One time, a friend asked me if I actually knew how much a tablespoon of flour was in gramms to convince me that metric users also make use of volume based units without thinking about them. But little did she know a heaped spoonful of 405 flour is about 15g and a level tablespoon is 10g.

They claim Oolong just tastes better when it's boiled to 80°C exactly with a Bunsen burner.

You only asked for one scene but somehow I came up with a bunch of other things. This post was drawn across 2 months so the artstyle is all over the place. Thanks for your ask!

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 heavy #tf2 soldier #Medic's reaction to a stick of butter is 100% based on my own reaction after reading an American recipe for the first time #Like I didn't know butter in America came in this normed stick-form I genuinely thought it was some arbitrary unit like ??? A Stick?? #As in I didn't know if the recipe required the butter to be in this specific shape; like sometimes you have to add butter in shaves or molt #no biggie lemme whittle away at my butter block until it's shaped like a stick? And then I learnt it was the portions that butter comes in #Cut me some slack; I'm used to recipes using eggs as the scale-up ingredient; not butter #I also learnt that medical labels is where metric units are mostly encountered simply because medicine is international #But that is the main reason why I think Medic would not realise he'd have to deal with imperial units until he goes grocery shopping #The man's just been ignoring the “oz” information right below everything he's ever used; out of sight out of mind #I want to think Engi is the most normal person about the entire metric-imperial-units thing he just does some mental arithmetic and done #King just learned système international d'unités during one of his 11 phds; it's not unrealistic

[rowrowronnie]

just watched new lil pootis episode, absolutely lauv those scout designs so much

#fanart #art #doodle #tf2 #tf2 fanart #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 medic #blu scout #lil pootis #i was supposed to be working on a certain thing but erm.. the parasite in my brain told me to draw tf2..

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

#warm up #this isn't good #writeblr #this is complicated by the fact i can't stand up too long or i fuckken pass out and <3 hit my damn head <3 #but i did take a deep breath and buy myself the stupid rice cooker #and!!! a very cheap sushi kit!!! i have been wanting to try making sushi for literally YEARS #the kit was only like 15 dollars!!!! and i haven't purchased it bc?!!??!?!?!?!!? #..... i didn't get the mixer tho that felt. like a lot. like too much. #on my list is a kitchenaid. one day when i get a check and i have paid off my student debt #and medical debt #i will put that first little bit of cash #into a kitchenaid 5qt stand mixer (with attachments) #i really do just go into their refurbished section and stare lustily at each option #but yeah i feel guilty about the rice cooker even tho i know for a fact this damn thing is gonna be a lifesaver #oh shit also fuck i forgot to mention . poached eggs

[ao3commentoftheday]

Write the bonkers, unhinged, weird idea that you think no actual person will like. Because guess what? You're an actual person, and you liking it still counts.

#last week I wrote a medical history podcast fic #in an alternate universe where a/b/o was a thing #and I had the hosts discuss heat suppressants #why? #because I could #and it turns out a friend of mine #out of nowhere #told me that was their exact shit #you might not be alone in your weird #but even if you are #weird is fun #have fun with it

[transgendz]

My roommate and I are financially unstable while he does through a long, complicated diagnosis process that started as we stopped being homeless. I just got a job, and it's going to pay well and allow us to get caught up and stable, but I don't get my check for a week and a half. We have rent due on the 1st, our storage bill due at the end of the month, and we are out of food.

Dm me for proof or details

I will do art for anyone who gives, just message me @theartistrans I also take commissions there.

Dm me for zelle

$creepiecrippl

V

PP

$0/$900

#for anyone curious we are growing our own food to reduce food costs and thats going well but takes literal months and we were only able to #start as it got warmer so things are a little slow on that but we also have enough planted to feed us already so theres that #and i am actually still applying to more jobs in hopes of getting a 2nd because its expensive to have medical issues turns out #we are just now recovering from bad malnutrition issues thats kept us both on and off sick for months and my roommate is still severely #underweight but hes gained a little🎉

[ozzyeelz]

Chat is this real

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #art #digital art #my art #ozias draws a thing #fanart #my artwork #character drawing #tf2 fanart #tf2 ships #heavymedic #medicheavy #heavyspy #spoovy #red octoberfest #red oktoberfest #blu team #blu medic #medic tf2 #tf2 medic #heavy tf2 #tf2 heavy #spy tf2 #tf2 spy #heavy weapons guy #blu spy #blu heavy #I better not see people arguing over ships. istg #i hope you see my vision

[thedisablednaturalist]

I think when people think of mental illness and what helps, especially with things like anxiety and depression, the treatment involves pushing yourself. Pushing yourself to get out of bed, to exercise, to take a shower, to go out in public, to order your own food from the cashier, etc.

And because the mental health movement has grown so much, people think that's the default of ALL illnesses. That the only way someone will get better is if they push themselves. That practice makes perfect. That you'll become more comfortable or strong over time the more you do something.

But what people need to realize is, with physical disabilities and chronic illnesses, pushing yourself in most cases is DETRIMENTAL. Pushing yourself past your limits can lead to flare ups or further injury. That's why it's important to know your limits, how certain activities may affect your condition, and learn how to either adapt or get help to complete the activity in question.

Also, most of us are already pushing ourselves. Most of us don't have access to the help or equipment we need. Most of us live in places where we frequently encounter inaccessible obstacles. Most of us NEED to rest.

So please don't try to be our physical therapists or doctors. There are people specifically trained to help us navigate our own conditions and limitations. There are people trained to help us strengthen our body's resilience without causing flare-ups or injury. Do not tell us "it'll be good for you" or "you need the exercise" when we say something is too heavy or too far or when we say we need our mobility aid(s). Your friend with depression may need to be encouraged to get out of bed, but your friend with chronic illness definitely doesn't.

Respect our rest.

#wrenfea.exe #DISCLAIMER: dont take this as me saying you should be pushing your mentally ill friends #this is more about how physical conditions often differ in how they are treated #also dont like. force your friends or anyone with anxiety to do things they dont want to #thats what therapists are for #also most mental illnesses require medication alongside therapy before they can get better #but even chronic illnesses and disabilities that benefit from exercise still require knowing your limits #and not being pressured to push past them #ive noticed some professionals who help both mentally and physically ill patients tend towards the push method #like my therapist and sometimes my counselors fall back on that method #and i have to remind them i am already pushing myself #and i need to adapt rather than push forward #chronic disability #chronic pain #spoonie #disability #chronic illness #cripple punk #cripplepunk #cpunk

[steddieas-shegoes]

Just started thinking about labor and delivery nurse Steve Harrington having to fill in for his best friend Robin in the ER at the last minute on his off week

And who stumbles in (comes in on a stretcher) but rock star Eddie Munson who fell off the stage at his show just because he’s incredibly clumsy (this isn’t even the first time it’s happened). His leg is very obviously broken at the knee because he broke his fall with it and he’s struggling to focus on questions because of the pain.

One of his bandmates came with him, Jeff, who Eddie keeps referring to as his mom on the road. Jeff calls Eddie’s next of kin so they can focus on giving him a scan, pain meds, and setting his leg as soon as possible.

The pain meds kick in fast and he’s flirting with Steve nonstop.

And he’s good.

He hits all of Steve’s buttons: the obnoxious pet names that should be annoying but aren’t, the casual touches to his hands and arms as he gets him comfortable, the lines he’s using that are stupid but adorable.

He has no reason to stay after they take care of his major injury and the one spot on his arm that needed stitches. He didn’t hit his head and passes all the concussion protocol tests, his stats are normal, his pain is being managed with a prescription of Tylenol with codeine. He can go home.

But Eddie insists he should have Steve’s number in case he gets worse (he won’t) or has questions (google is available). Steve gives him his number.

He texts him almost immediately.

And keeps texting him for days.

Weeks.

Calls him every morning before Steve’s shifts. Every time his post-show adrenaline matches up with Steve’s lunch breaks. Every time their schedules sync up.

And then he shows up randomly to get his cast removed.

Steve reminds him he could’ve gone anywhere, especially because he was working his usual floor.

Eddie reminds him that he wanted an excuse to see him.

Steve manages to grab a 30 minute lunch break when all his fellow nurses and doctors find out his Eddie is visiting.

When Eddie leaves, it’s with a promise to be back when tour ends in less than a month, a promise to take Steve on a real date, and a promise to be the best damn boyfriend Steve’s ever had.

#idk how things work in hospitals #and I’m not gonna research it for a shitpost #so if a medical professional sees this and it’s obviously wrong no it’s not #I’m but a marketing manager #I do not know the way #I’m just here for a good time #and maybe a wrong time factually #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #headcanon