Log:20080915 - Infected!

Setting

St.Rumon Health Center: Exam Room 1 - North Avenue: East

Dark blue tile and pale blue paint make this examination room look like any
other. Against the wall at the door's side, there's a counter, cabinets above
and beneath, along with a small sink for washing one's hands. In the middle
of the room stands the examination table, a spread of white paper that
crinkles at the touch marking it from head to foot. There are two chairs that
sit against the wall, a rolling stool for the doctor's use, along with a
powerful spotlight that sits in the corner. A couple of abstract paintings
hang on the wall giving a bit of upbeat color to this otherwise sedate room,
a minimalist wooden cross hanging alongside them.

Cast

Scene

Normally when a Doctor or a Specialist is called in the patient is
left alone for a while. This patient has not been left alone. They are in
fact still treating the bruises, cuts, and.. bite wounds that cover her arms
and shoulders and neck. Though there are now claw wounds as if she was
attacked by a shapeshifter. But she smells- if you can get over the smell of
rotting animal -is that of someone sick with fever. And she looks fevered.
The nurse isn't certain if she believes that it's from infection of
lycanthropy or sepsis from being clawed up by a undead.

"Ma'am?" The nurse asks as Mourning shakes and sweats heavily, her power going
off the hook, everywhere. "Could you please try not to raise any more
roadkill? It isn't very sanitary."

Liz pulls up outside and barely remembers to shut the door of the car, leaving
Eric to fend for himself as she jogs into clinic. She pauses at the entrance
to the backrooms just long enough to point and clear Eric to join her in the
back with the patient. Her clothes are spattered with coffee from about
mid-shin down, and while ti smells good, ti definitely means she wasn't
expecting trouble.

Grabbing the chart she breezes in, just barely breathing quicker than usual. Of
course, seeing the woman's condition she doesn't bother to read it, but drops
it onto a side table as reaches with bare hands for the wound, cupping her
palms and trying to force the wounds to stop bleeding with her desire and
will alone.

When Eric comes in, that cat makes him nervous. The words from the nurses start
to get him worried. "Oh, fuck. Shit, Doc Turner, you didn't say she was a
fucking Animator." Heading in, Eric takes in a deep breath, taking in the
scent of the room, the smell of the dead and of the infection. "Look. I knew
a Pyrokinetic once who got infected. It wasn't good. If she's reaching the
-street- with her power, I need to know if you've got a morgue. If you do, I
need you to do your best to keep her calm, even sedate her if you need to,
and then I need someone to call the morgue and tell them to evacuate while I
run there as fast as possible with someone to show me the way."

GAME> Liz rolls 26 against 35% <+20%> : 29% success

You recover 2 points of damage.
GAME> Mourning recovers 2 points of damage <minor injuries>

Mourning turns and glowers at the nurse she snaps, "If I could control it I
would! You think I like having dead all up in my wounds? I don't want to die
of sepsis." Then tears start to fall. Black mascara starting to run. "I'd be
a normal hospital right now if that stupid whore hadn't rubbed her blood all
over me."

Liz pants faintly with the effort of forcing her will onto the flesh. "What
infected you? What species?" she asks, moving from the sealed wounds to the
next spot, more focused on stopping the bleeding than the sorts of backlash
that has Eric tied up into knots. If she fully understood the implications,
she'd likely be a bit more concerned.

GAME> Liz loses 1 point of psyche <-1 penalty>
GAME> Liz rolls 13 against 35% <+20%> : 42% success
You recover 4 points of damage.
GAME> Mourning recovers 4 points of damage <passing injuries>
GAME> Liz loses 1 point of psyche <-2 penalty>

"Don't say a name unless you want them to die, though, lady. And keep in mind
that if you Change, you may be killing a member of the only group that will
take you in. But if you give it to me later on, I may be able to get some
things taken care of privately." Moving forward, he adds, "Eric Jameson. Uh.
Therian liason? Something like that. We're going to make sure you're all
right." Especially, Eric thinks, as her wounds are sealing when Liz's power
flows out over her. "Shit, girl. No wonder you're a doctor. Now somebody tell
me there's no fucking morgue so I'm not worried about a zombie apocalypse,
okay?"

"We don't have a morgue, sir." The nurse says as she moves to prepare other
things for the doctor. She comments, "Though we are close to the Church of
Eternal Life and their graveyard.."

There is a rush of wind as Eric accelerates from zero to thirty miles per hour
in the space of a couple of seconds indoors.

Mourning hisses softly as she's healed, maybe she doesn't like the feeling? She
tries to call after him, "Can't raise that far you dumbass!" The blonde lifts
a hand to rub against her face and sobs, "I don't know. That's why I'm not a
normal hospital. They'd just give me a vaccination for something I don't have
to try and cancel it out and then I'd become that." She hiccups.

"Stop moving." Liz says softly, managing to get the worst of the bleeding to
stop and swaying back from the girl, letting the nurses and the on-shift
doctor have at Mourning for now. Her forehead is beaded with sweat and her
hands covered in blood - Therian and Animator alike. She moves to the sink
and scrubs off more thoroughly than most surgeons do. "Lay back, relax,
they'll take care of the rest and I'll work on you here and there." she says,
content for the moment to let the female be tended by the others now that
she's far more stable than before. A glance towards where Eric went and she
sighs, "Do you know what kind of shifter the woman was?" she asks.

It's what, two, three minutes away at thirty miles an hour with the ability to
jump ten-foot fences without so much as brushing your feet over the top?
That's about how long it takes to start calling. It's maybe another minute
later when someone lets Liz know there's a call for her, a Mr. Jameson, and
that the call is regarding a 'Zombie Apocalypse False Alarm'.

"No. I only know that she was a shapeshifter. She felt hot." Mourning winces a
moment, and she lays back. She's still crying, because I mean. You've just
been infected with shapeshifter juice, and you didn't /want/ to be a
shapeshifter. That's something to cry about, now isn't it? The blonde sobs a
little now.

Liz looks to the girl and sighs, murmuring an order for a light sedative to the
attending. The woman noting the call is met with a smile. "Excellent. Have
him come back, see if maybe he can track the infecter by scent. Or
something." she says, pausing since she doesn't know what breed Eric is. To
the girl she finally says softly. "No one wants it, but it's not all bad once
the illness passes."

"Not that bad?!" Mourning asks in her sobbing-wailling voice. A hand lifts to
brush away her tears, mascara smearing all over the place. "I'm going to turn
/furry/. I don't want to be a goddamned furry!"

Why does Eric hurry back so fast? Well. Scents fade, right? And so it's another
three minutes or so before Eric slows down a few steps ahead of the door, and
walks in calmly. The fucker isn't even winded. Being preternatural isn't
fair. "And you won't be. Except once a month, once you learn to control
things. And for the first few months, you won't remember anything. And, hey.
You'll be able to sprint to the See-oh-Ee-El and back without being winded,
in ten minutes." Heading over toward the bed, Eric pulls a stool up beside
Mourning. "My name's Eric. I Turned at sixteen. What I'd like to do is try to
see if I can pick up the scent of who did this to you, and then I want you to
describe the exact circumstances, and tell me everything about the person you
can think of. What she looked like, how she dressed, why she was rubbing her
blood on you. Who she was with. If she hurt you or not. Is that okay? And
then Doctor Turner and I will help you discuss your options."

Liz settles onto a stool and nods to the girl. "Then you will need to learn to
control your emotions." she says softly, trying to soothe the distraught
woman. "I'm sure if we can find the species that infected you, they would be
glad to teach you such things." a smile flashing white against her obsidian
flesh. When Eric comes back, she falls silent, eltting the experienced
Therian handle the emotional trauma while she recovers to heal the physical.

Liz glances at Eric and nods. "I can help you find the person, too. Since some
of her blood is here. Should be a good ground to work with, in case they
moved."

Mourning frowns at Eric and gives a shake of her head. She lifts a hand and
says, "I was doing my job, raising a vampire to be questioned by the police.
They were going to come pick it up after I got it raised and ready. And then
a ghoul came out of one of the crypts. I hate graceland." She pauses and sobs
a little. A shake of her head is given and she says, "No, this.. this
happened a day or so ago." There won't be any of the woman's blood, or the
woman's scent. "I thought I was going to be okay…!" She sobs and wipes her
face, "Her blood healed most of the wounds from the ghoul." She hicups, "But
then this morning I started feeling sick, and hot.. and god I feel like I'm
dying. She infected me!"

A hand reaches out, his fingers wrap around Mourning's hand. It's a tentative
gesture, one that he's ready to retract at a negative reaction, but his hand
is warm against hers. "You're going to be all right. You need to calm down.
Infectionc an lower your control over your other abilities, as they try to
readjust to the changes in your body. If you Change, they'll be…stronger.
Hard to tell how much, but I've heard from slight to -massive- increases in
psychic or magical ability. You're going to be sick for awhile, but you're
under good care. If we can find out who or what infected you, we might have
time to do a vaccine before the Full Moon, but…well, it's only about a week
away. We're going to need help from you. All we can get. What's your name?"

Liz grimaces slightly and then watches Eric. She sucks in a breath and sighs
faintly. "If.. you can describe her to me, tell me something of her I might
be able to find her anyone. I've done it once.. it wasn't a very strong
link.. but it can be done. If you're going to change, you'll need to be with
your own kind." she whispers.

Mourning shakes her head at Liz and hiccups, "No. I don't want her to be
killed, even if she deserves it." Another hiccup. She tries to pull her hand
away from Eric but she's weak from the fever. The blonde woman finally
answers him, "Alyssa Mourning."

"Wow," Eric says, taken aback for a moment. "That's a really, really fucking
excellent name for an Animator. Birth name, or a, uh, 'stage name'?" At the
absurdity of the question, Eric suddenly clears his throat, as if to clear
away the question from the air. "Anyway, Alyssa, if we ask everyone else to
clear out of the room for a minute, do you think you could describe the woman
who infected you? I know a lot of people, and I'm not going to hurt any of
them. But it may help you."

Liz takes the hint and gestures for the nurses and the attending to leave them.
Once they all clear the room she offers a smile to Alyssa. "I'm not in the
business of seeing people dead. If it was done int he sake of saving your
life.. that's different than infecting out of malice."

Mourning sniffs a little more, and wipes at her face. She doesn't answer his
question on whether or not its her birth name or her stage name. Another
smearing of mascara she says, "She.. was about my height.. Had red hair..
green eyes.. Was athletic." She's quiet for a moment and says, "Grace! The
guy.. the guy that came and helped chase off the ghoul.. and had called an
ambulance for me..He called her Grace."

"Mother-fucker." Eric sounds irritated, but not annoyed. "The guy with her.
Short, scruffy looking; or big and lean and gorgeous?" He's picking up a cell
phone, then, looking through numbers in his phone book to find someone.
"She's a wereleopard. That's the vaccine you want if she wants to take the
chance on it. On that note, hey, at least you got something sexy instead of
getting turned into a rat."

The phone is dialed, and Eric walks over to the corner, pitching his voice low.
Obviously leaving a message. "Maeve. Grace and Tobias infected a fucking
Animator. It was pure fucking chance that I was there in time to make sure
the room was empty, so you can thank God and me that Grace is not this very
moment facing the death penalty. What the fuck is a girl that young doing
healing people with her blood? What was Tobias thinking letting her pull this
shit? Are you -sure- he's not trying to fuck over your people? I'm going to
keep an eye on your infectee, and I hope you don't pull some pissy shit about
me interfering in Pard business. I'll give her your contact information.
Mother-fucker, Maeve. What is Gage teaching her?" Click. The phone flips
closed, and Eric turns around, his power pulsing outward with his anger.
First Dyson, now this, and it's got him on edge. "The vaccine -always- has a
chance to infect you. It's a risk. You've got to choose whether you want to
try it or not. In my opinion? It's better to not fuck with it. If you're not
going to die, it's all out of your hands."

Liz watches Eric with a frown, leaning against the door to keep it shut. Once
the people are alerted to the impending shift, the Doc smiles at Alyssa.
"I'll keep you here until we can get the worst of the fever chilled out of
you and have you stable. If these people come to collect, do you -want- to go
with them?" she asks softly.

"No!" Mourning insists, lifting a hand to wipe away her tears once more, and
then the snot from her nose. She has been crying for most of the time the two
of them have been here. A hand is lifted to wipe over her forehead. She
sniffs, "Infected me. Don't want to go anywhere with them."

The phone is tucked away while he walks. When he reaches the side of the bed,
Eric grabs a box of tissues from the bedside table, and holds it out to
Mourning. "You're going to need -someone- to help you through the full moon,
Alyssa. You're going to shift, and you're not going to have any control
whatsoever. I have another first shift I have to deal with this full moon,
and I'm not sure I can handle a cat -and- a rat, together, without both of
you trying to eat one another. I could try it, but I don't think it would be
a good experience for you. I can help you through the sickness if you haven't
got anybody to watch you and you don't want to stay in the hospital. But
about all a hospital can really do is lock you away for the night when you
shift, not help you learn how to control it. Maeve's good people. Grace
is…young. And a bit stupid. This is an accident, and if you go with them,
you'll be fine. Or I will make sure heads roll."

Liz falls back by the wayside again, letting the pro handle the pre-Change
jitters and soothe the girl with his steadying ways. To avoid lurking so
much, she moves to some cabinetsand double checks the contents, making
herself budy to give them a semblance of privacy.

Mourning lifts a hand to wipe at her eyes. She sniffs a moment and says, "I
don't even have Kissy-Face's number." Another hand lifts to wipe across her
face. She for a moment and then looks at him and says, "Don't call the
hyenas! I don't want to be the bitch to some fucking dyke with a dick for a
clit!" There is near panic in her voice and expression.

"I knew it! I fucking -new- she had a clitdick! I FUCKING KNEW THE BITCH HAD A
PENIS!" Eric actually physically gets up, does a quick -jig-. A fucking
-jig-. His thumbs tuck into his belt loops and his feet pound out a merry
little tune on the tiles. It is incredibly disturbing.

Liz just… stares. An utter lack of words. Her mouth hangs open for a second
before she snaps her jaw shut and looks away, not sure if she should be
interested, disturbed, or amused as FUCK that Eric is doing an 'I told you
so' dance.

Mourning stares at Eric and then starts to sob even harder. Apparently she
isn't amused by his dance.

Slowly, the dance stops. "Oh. Uh. Sorry, look. I had a bet riding on that.
Quite a bit of money. And a broken wrist. Look, I'm sorry, it's okay. I
didn't mean to, uh. You know, make light of your suffering." Professional?
Maybe Eric has a different view of 'professional' than most people. "Look,
Alyssa, you're going to be all right. In a week, this will all be over, and
you'll be able to choose what you want to do. Until then, I'm gonna do
everything I can to make it better. Including keep you as far away from Nadal
as possible. Okay?"

Liz grimaces faintly. "I haven't met any of the leopards yet. If you could
arrange a meeting or two before the moon…?" she asks of Eric when he stops
doing the creepy dance. "And I'll second that. You don't have to see anyone
you don't want to, but I strongly suggest you get to know the leopards. for
your sanity."

Mourning sniffs a moment and rubs her hands across her face. The tears have
finally stopped, and she's all red-eyed, and sick looking. The woman
whimpers. "Fine, but I don't want to go with them until I'm going.. I mean,
there's a chance it will just pass right?"

"There's a chance, yeah. Cats aren't as infectious as, say, rats. But they're
still one of the big three in terms of retention. You've got to keep in mind
the possibility that your life is going to get a lot more complicated. Not
worse, just more complicated." A tissue is taken from the box, and offered to
wipe away the last of the tears that have passed. Eric nods back toward Liz.
"You've got a good doctor. And you've got people who are going to be
concerned about your well being."

Liz smiles at the girl. "Brcae for the worst, hope for the best. It's how I
make it through my day and come out smiling." Then again, with energy like
the kind she was slinging around to heal Mourning she probably wins more
often than she loses.

Mourning uses the cloth to wipe at her eyes and says, "I'd like to rest now." A
sniffle is given. She shakes her head a bit and says, "And maybe shower.."

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