2019-09-27 - Foot of the Problem


Hank continues his care of Betty.

Log Info:

Storyteller: {$storyteller}
Date: September 27th, 2019
Location: Med-lab, NYC

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After breakfast there's a ride by Uber to the the Medical Center at NYU. Hank has enough pull that he can easily gain access to a lab, and will take a few minutes to properly clean his hands and don gloves. "So…can you please be so kind as to remove your shoes and such so I can examine your feet, Betty?"

The man is very…professional…he's in 'medical pro' role, apparently. And he does seem to be very very competent.

It's a switch that flicks when someone is in a medical style office. They're with a professional, after all, so time to be a patient. Nodding, still in silence, Betty reaches down and slips off her flats. There, on the soles, is a collection of bandages. They appear to be fresh, well kept at least. A shift back to allow her legs up and stretched out, she waits for him to look at the bottoms of her limbs.

"Mmm, thank you." Hank says with a toothy smile, and then begins his examination. He is exquisitely careful, and considering sheer size of his mitts is astonishingly deft as he checks the cuts. "Mmph. You did a very nice job with this, feet are very awkward. Here, give me a moment." He is very thorough in his cleaning, and after he's done he applies bacitracin and then rather expertly bandages the feet again, even to the point of adjusting them to maximize comfort in her flats. A smile then, and he straightens. "How does that feel? Better? Would you like some ibu?"

She waits and then smiles to the compliment. "I thought I missed stuff, glad I didn't." Her toes give a little wiggle before she shifts to slip off her seat. Her feet return into her flats and there's a quick glance at the clock on the wall. "I should be getting back to the office soon. Have to stop by and pick up Jonah's sandwich." Standing, lingering, the woman looks toward the massive fluff-genius. She smiles, "Thank you. For giving a damn, I mean. You have a lot on your plate already, so, it means a lot that you take your time out for someone like me."

"No, you did an excellent job all told." Hank agrees. Hank extends a steadying hand when she stands. "Of course, Betty. You're busy too." He then frowns a bit when she talks about herself as if she were somehow less important than himself. "Betty? It was my pleasure. It is 'someone like you' who risks their lives to save a friend, 'someone like you' who constantly speaks out against injustice in our day to day, 'someone like you' who cares so much for the plight of others that is is a physical pain when you see someone else in need and cannot help." He is almost stern. "Helping someone like you? That's my honor."

Betty Brant stares. She blinks and thins her lips for a moment, the pair filling back out to their natural shape with a fresh spread of ruby gloss. A glance to her feet, then up again, she smiles and steps forward. Should the man allow her, her arms weave around him in a firm embrace. The contact is brief, however, not allowing the moment to grow uncomfortable (at least those are her hopes). She doesn't say anything else, at least not on that matter, though at length she continues.

"How can I help the Mutant community?"

Hank is a little surprised by the hug, but uncomfortable? Not so much. He rather enjoys hugs! What's surprising is when they're offered so spontaneously, but that's a good thing, not a bad thing or one one he finds at all uncomfortable, nope. He returns that hug, and when she pulls back, Betty is very much able to do so without any fuss or concern. Hank smiles. "Thank you."

Hank will call for another Uber, and as they wait the few minutes he looks thoughtful. "The first thing is to raise public awareness of what goes on there, on the living conditions. I can perhaps help you get some interviews, I have some contacts there. That might be a launching point. The community is actually quite tight knit, as an outsider, possibly even with me to vouch for you it will be a challenge…how does that sound?"

"Sounds like a plan. Always good to have a plan." She agrees, eyeing the door and then back toward Hank. They had a sliver of time, after all. "I'll speak with whomever wishes to speak with me. They can even email me or call me if they'd rather not meet in person. Whatever's more comfortable for them." Beat. "What about you? Is there anyhing I can do for you personally? You're helping me so much after all."

"I will make some inquiries, see if I can arrange something then." Hank does look at Betty, thoughtfully. "Actually…after you get off your shift, would you like to join me for dinner?" Hank smiles. "I have an early meeting tomorrow, I was going to spend the night in the city anyway rather than drive ninety minutes each way…in any case, some company for dinner would be lovely." A nod. "IF you have the time, or the inclination, of course."

Betty Brant nods, moving to walk with the blue bear back to street level and their waiting car. Then he asks about dinner, causing the woman to blink and look his way. Pink touches her cheeks, showing easily enough on her fair skin. Rolling her shoulders, situating the strap of her side bag, she stays silent.

"I'd love to." She decides at length. "You have my number, call me when you're ready. Just where and when."

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