<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/smallville/images/0/0d/Martian_Manhunter_DCNU_2235808-martian_manhunter.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/186?cb=20130105235723)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Martian Manhunter<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Watchtower<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>10/26/17 | 3:00 AM<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Catwoman<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Medical Aid/Surgery<br/><hr/><br/>Perhaps many would have reacted to the removal of Selina's clothing, but J'onn maintained perfect professionalism. In truth he had minimal interest in humans, still considering himself a loyal husband to his long lost wife. Fortunately she was at least maintaining her modesty, so there was no awkwardness to speak of. Instead he focused on the wound. As he looked his eyes lit red, glowing as he gazed clear through her skin to observe the bullet itself. He spoke absently as he worked.<br/><br/><strong>"Not a run-down of the gunshot wound. A run-down of how I work."</strong>He answered as he lightly touched his rough fingertips to the skin around the entry point.<strong>"Not poisoned. A benefit of my Martian nature."</strong>He focused intently on both his fingertips and the skin and warned her quickly.<strong>"This will feel uncomfortable, try to stay still."</strong>After that he pushed his fingers into her arm. However, where it should have bruised and broken skin instead his skin slipped through hers until two fingertips precisely felt out the lodged bullet, making no contact but able to tell where it was to the millimeter. He was there, but his body was phasing through hers. It caused a mild discomfort and a strange discomfort to look at as it seemed to bend reality, but no pain.<br/><br/>Once he was done he reached out with his mind, finding the bullet between his fingers and very momentarily flexing his telekinesis. His precision was akin to a human surgeon, and in an instant the bullet was crumpled to the smallest state it could be, so thin it was far smaller than a human hair. And then he pulled it from her, setting it to hover neatly onto a tray to be incinerated. Once it was removed he gave an apologetic look, wondering how she might take the odd display. But he'd decided time was of the essence. Now that the bullet was removed he raised his hand for a second, causing a wound treatment kit to fly from a compartment to his grip.<strong>"I can dress the wound now, if you would like. And you can quiz me while I do, if you're curious."</strong>He smiled lightly.<strong> "As a cat." </strong><br/>