Work Text:
Not even the damnable flickering of the harsh lights could dampen the giddy feeling in your gut. It was just a matter of time before the courier was set to arrive and you could finally progress your personal project.
Not that one and a half week was a lot of time for a shipment like this, not by any means, but striking while the iron is hot is imperative. For well over a month, you'd sworn to never let the flames consuming your soul burn as brightly as the night you left. Not even if it would turn out to be what kept you warm in this frozen wasteland.
As if on cue, and you supposed it was, a shiver ran through your body. Even with the added labcoat that you insisted on wearing despite no one else bothering to, the frigid air still managed to settle as pins in your bones.
Snow had been pelting outside for what felt like days on end, the grey skies showing no hint of mercy. For a nation of supposed love, there was little compassion to be found in the land or people. Not that you'd met an awful lot of folks to begin with; there were the two who stopped you at the border, an officer - Denis maybe? - who'd aided with the recruitment process and… Save for the guards you silently greeted every morning that was about it.
How harrowingly lonely now that it was laid out before you. Still, cold neutrality was better than being surrounded by false kindness as you'd been in Fontaine. But that score would soon be settled, as soon as you had the water sample you could-
A sharp bark of laughter had the bottle you'd been cleaning slip momentarily, heart rate spiking as you managed to catch it. Right, the clones of your superior should probably also count for something.
Or 'segments' as he'd called them. How he'd managed to create something that absurd, something so far from everything you knew of this world, held your mind by the throat, especially paired with the wave of a hand he'd given upon your inquiry, brushing it off as 'a temporary measure'.
For now, you'd simply count yourself lucky that they were there, it counted for social interaction even if they were technically not separate people. A sigh escaped your lips, seeing two of them off to the right end, clearly about to start yelling with a broken piece of machinery at the feet of one. Separate enough to cause problems.
Setting the remaining dirty glassware aside, you cleared your throat, politely at first and then with a little more vigor, "Lambda?" No reaction, how annoying, "Lambda! Could you and," shit who was that? "Your brother take that outside?"
Several pairs of hauntingly bright 'eyes' fixed upon you. Though you'd heard plenty of the Harbingers and their unsavory traits, you'd never expected something this odd, having been caught completely by surprise upon first discovering one of the segments. So far, they'd been annoying at best and unnerving at worst.
A few snickers whisked through the room with the cold stream of air from the ever running ventilation. "Lambda isn't here, try again Mademoiselle."
Fantastic. You rubbed at your cheeks, trying to recall the rest of those blasted nonsensical names and already feeling a headache coming on, and not even one you could remove by putting distance between the heavy scent of bleach and yourself. This was a waste of time, you had tissue biopsies to prepare, toxins to purify, fungal colonies to transfer onto fresh plates before the slime condensate lost all moisture to the unforgiving dry air, and probably more you were forgetting.
"Quiet. She's right, you two are utterly insufferable. Either get back to work or get out, and I'm certain you're both aware what the wisest choice would be."
Silence ensued, only broken by sharp clicks of metal against the harsh floors. The voice was too languid to be the original, a look in the direction of the approaching figure confirming your suspicion. This one you knew; Omega. With his neatly styled hair and clattering ornaments, it was impossible to mistake him for any of the others.
A rough hand pushed the segment aside, effectively crushing any nonchalance as Omega stumbled, The Doctor himself easily recognizable with the stubbled chin and rowdy teal hair. "Don't get too full of yourself, go prepare."
Grace reclaimed, Omega turned on his heel, utterly unperturbed by how the rest seemed to collectively sigh at his fluttering tailcoat. Even in a sea of misfits, he managed to stand out, a single magpie strutting around a murder of crows.
"And you," his voice might as well have cut through your flesh with how it stung, leaving you utterly confused by the calm continuation. "What have you been doing?"
Before you could answer, The Doctor had clicked his tongue and clearly decided you weren't doing well, encroaching on your space and reaching for various of your sealed tubes that lined the racks, most of them failures to be discarded. You could only fear a mind that could keep up with the speed of his hands, plucking each tube and turning to read the label before placing it back and repeating with the next. Methodical and precise for all of the minute it took him to have inspected it all to his apparent dissatisfaction.
The Doctor waved a gloved hand at the full sink, lips turned down in what you assumed to be disgust. "Have you been cleaning after yourself?"
After yourself? Was that now wrong, or had you missed some crucial detail about procedures during the first hectical day? Another mistake would be beyond frustrating to add to the tally. And why was his tone so painfully accusatory?
"I've been-"
Your brows furrowed when he waved dismissively, not even deigning to look in your direction. If knocking his mask off wouldn't be tantamount to a death wish, and you didn't have unfinished business, perhaps you'd have done it.
"Xi, if I find out you've been neglecting your assignments one more time…" Something clearly passed between The Doctor and the approaching segment, no bigger than an adolescent boy, stomped towards your station, begrudgingly dragging a stepping stool and steel basket with him. "Are we clear?"
The round cheeks and pout would have been endearing if not for the glaring discrepancy between those soft organic features and the upper half of his face being purely mechanical. A glowing red 'eye' sat at the middle, the steady buzz from it seemingly intensifying as the child-thing positioned itself. You were certain that if it could, it would have gladly rolled its eyes at its creator a thousand times over.
Muffled chuckles from around the room were drowned out by clattering glass as Xi began clearing your station with sweeping motions that seemed like reckless abandon. Swiftly, you leaned over and pushed everything important to the back of the table, hoping he would either take the hint or be unable to reach.
"As for you," less frigid but just as firm, Dottore's voice commanded your attention back to him, "a shipment arrived from Fontaine."
Swift as a viper from the dunes he allegedly grew up in, you weren't exactly sure, having only heard rumors, a hand curled around your bicep before you'd finished bowing your head in adieu.
"I wasn't finished."
His eyes weren't needed to envision the pointed look in them, you at least supposed the 'real' Doctor would have eyes, the flex of his sculpted jaw was enough to carry his irritation across. Your eyes briefly searched the room for any sign of the crate, uncertainty for whether you would even be able to pick anything out in the buzzing mess that made up the main laboratory settling in the back of your mind.
Steeling yourself, you tugged at your arm, "Give me a moment to unpack the contents and I'll be all yours, Doctor."
The slight twitch of his lips didn't go unnoticed, yet his grip remained unrelenting.
"Remind me, when did I sign off on this?"
"What?" Your brows furrowed at the question as you tugged absently on your arm, still torn between concern for the reagents and how far you were willing to push your luck.
"She had Omega do it ten days ago," a bright voice from one of the younger segments filled the silence, confirming the suspicion that although they'd all returned to work, the interaction was still being carefully monitored.
Dottore himself repeated the statement, free hand swiping a gloved finger along the table and inspecting it for any trace of grime. It had the hairs on the back of your neck standing.
"You weren't around, and Omega said that if I wanted it swiftly it'd be easier to have him sign rather than wait for you," hopefully the implied concern for his schedule wasn't lost, "and since I don't know how they've been packaged, I'd appreciate tending to them sooner rather than later."
A frown settled on both your lips, with Dottore's grip tightening further, "Let me make it perfectly clear, unless I am - against all odds - not present in Snezhnaya at the given time, you will wait for my approval."
As if reading your mind, he swiftly continued, "They are additions, parts, not replacements."
Finally released, you sidestepped his looming presence, keenly aware of the pointed beak following your movements towards the door.