Summary:Ranna finds the Tolliver Cline and a sympathetic ear Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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It has been a while since Hank's been able to work at the clinic, but tonight he made a trip out. Eyes of blue are bright, and it was actually a bit amusing to him that the staff at the clinic were a bit dubious - after all - HANK is a big blue fuzzy guy. Fortunately his build is the same, his eyes are identical, and so is his voice and skills. They only need about a half hour of convincing before they let him drop off the supplies he brought in, a full crate full, and let him help out. The man is not an MD so there's a lot of things he can't do legally, but what he can do, he does, and gladly. Always pleasant. Always smiling. Working hard without complaint and pitching in literally anywhere he can to help lighten the load. This last bit being the final proof of his identity.
It's taken Ranna a couple of days to make it to M-Town as she wanders into the Clinic, looking a little lost. There's nothing unusual about her - a small, dusky skinned woman who looks exceptionally tired dressed in jeans and a collared t-shirt with the logo of a shopping market from Hell's Kitchen on the breast and jacket.
Under the cuff of the jacket, metal coated leather can be seen on both arms. Might be bracelets or something similar - it's hard to tell.
Hanging back, surveying the area, the small woman takes a deep breath and heads to the desk. "Uh hi. I … need to see someone, if there's someone available…" she says quietly.
Noting the bracers or bracelets, Hank breaks off what he was was doing with a murmured apology, and then changes course. The triage nurse hasn't yet noticed anything too unusual about the girl, and smiles up to her. "Sure thing, honey. What seems to be the problem?" The nurse in question is a mature woman, greying hair in a bun, dark skin, and a bright smile made brighter by contrast. Her nametag reads 'Mary', not the most exotic of names.
Hank approaches then. "Hello, miss. Perhaps I might be of assistance?" Okay, this guy's build is frightening, and odd the hands and feet are huge, the forelimbs massive. He BULKS.
Ranna had expected to see different people here, it's why she'd come to the clinic. "I uh … " The small woman looks up at Hank and takes a step back - not out of fear but so she can see him. "… I've been getting headaches and I need help. I've had some … modifications."
It should be clear she doesn't want to say too much here and she's not even sure she should be here.
"Ah, modifications - mystical, biological, or mechanical?" Yes, Hank's pretty blase about the concept. You know, being a mutated (several times) mutant and all. He smiles to Mary. "If I might impose, can I use examination room 3 in the back for this consult? I think it is outside the purview of anyone on the medical staff." Mary just looks between the girl and the Beast, and nods slowly. "Go ahead, I'll let Doctor Gruenwald know." She smiles reassuringly to Ranna. "Don't you worry, child. He's big and scary, but he can be trusted." Hank smiles to Mary, and then motions towards the back. "Why don't we repair to exam room 3 and we can talk about your problem or problems, mm?"
"Uh. Biological, I think. Maybe mechanical…" Ranna answers, blinking at how easy that was. "I don't have any insurance and … I can pay, but things are tight at the moment. Do I need to fill out anything?"
Hanks already moving though she follows. "I'm Ranna. How do I call you?" she finally says as she steps into the examination room.
"I have some information on it. I don't know much about it myself."
"Well, as far as I know there's no need for paperwork, I'm a volunteer and the Clinic is not really suited to exotic treatments." Hank smiles, and leads the way, and once in the exam room he indicates that Ranna should sit on the examination table. "Hello, Ranna, I'm Hank McCoy." He offers a hand that without spanning to palm a basketball effortlessly. "A pleasure to meet you."
Regardless, once he's introduced himself, handshake accepted or not, he nods. "So…bio-mechanical alterations, and you're getting headaches. "Anything else I should know before we begin? You're not prone to energy discharges, or explosions, are you?"
"I wasn't sure the Clinic was. It's sort of a … risk for me. I was thinking if it couldn't, maybe they could recommend someone. You. They. You know what I mean." Ranna murmurs. "Hello Hank. I … don't know, is the answer to your last question. Nothing dangerous to you, of that I'm sure though."
She pauses and shoves her hand into her jacket pocket, withdrawing a usb key. "Can you read this? It's got the details of what were done to me and then I can explain me."
"I … I'm not doing a good job of this."
"Really…you have specs on hand?" Hank takes the drive, and plugs it into a port on his very not standard issue phone, and then flips through the pages at an absurd pace, the man reads fast! Not speedster fast, just conventional fast. As he reads, Ranna would see his mood visibly darken, and then his jaw would clench as he suppresses a rage reaction. It is a visible struggle, but eventually, he smiles again.
"So…when did the headaches start? Were there any unusual event leading up to them?" He shakes his head. "No, Ranna, don't feel awkward, this is a strange set of circumstances. NOBODY deals with this sort of thing well, just relax, and we'll figure things out, mm?"
"I … do." Ranna answers carefully. "I found them." The answer implies, don't ask where she got them. The fact that they seem to be branded with "The Order" might indicate some of the reason why. "It's bad, I know it is, but this is what I have to live with." She says in response to Hanks darkening mood.
"I got hit hard in the head. It damaged the implant and stopped me attacking those patterns. Now, when those abilities are used, I get a shooting headache and lately my nose has started bleeding."
From the files, the implant in questions is at the base of her head.
Based on what he's reading, Hank peers at the 'found them', then just lets it go - other than adding. "And yes, it is very bad." Hank admits, his voice nearly a growl - clearly at the situation, not the girl. "You'll only have to live with it if I can't figure out a way to fix this." Hank states firmly.
"So…the implant is damage, and causing painful feedback complete with blood discharges from the nose to go with the headaches." Another firm nod. "Right then, so…we'll need to find a way to correct this." He circles around the girl, and then gently examines the base of her skull, checking the surrounding tissue for scarring, and to see if he can feel the implant or anything abnormal. His touch is shockingly gentle considering the size of his hands and their obvious strength.
"You … think you can do something with this?" Ranna says slowly "I … should tell you there are people after me. If they find you've been helping me, you might be in danger. I can't for certain and I could be wrong, but you should know what you're getting yourself into."
"And yes, that's right. When the pain occurs I can't hold my other abilities." the Ex-Order Ninja agrees. In the file, there's something that alludes to a 'latent gene' that didn't activate, hence the need for the second set of implants. That gene miiiiight sound a little familiar to Hank.
Ranna drops her head forward to expose her neck, pulling her ponytail up and tucking the end into the band. The work that was done is really quite excellent, the scar is barely visible - Hank has to look really hard to even see it. Unfortunately he can't feel it, but at least he knows where it is.
"I think I can do something with this, yes." Hank's voice? Absolutely confident, rock solid assurance, not a hint of doubt. That's probably unexpected. And the fun part? When Ranna mentions he might be at risk, he actually chuckles, and shrugs. "I'm a mutant, I'm also on a supers team, and I do some high level consulting for the government. I'm /always/ in danger, Ranna. This? Won't be ignored, but it won't slow me down, either. You need my help, and if I can give it, then I /will/ give it."
He examines as well as he can in the facilities available. "Okay, first, I'd like to exchange contact information with you. If you're willing, I would like to see about securing access to better facilities, even if I have to rent them, and then we'll see about more detailed tests…which will then hopefully lead to a fix and the removal of that tracking implant and kill switch. How does that sound?"
"You do?" There's a sound of relief in Ranna's voice as she lets out a breath. "I … I know mutants have problems, Hank. I don't want to make it worse and you should know what you might be getting yourself into."
There's little to tell from the surface. The documents are actually fairly well detailed. The location of the implant may have changed over time - according to these records, this operation was done when Ranna was sixteen - but he knows where to look, at least.
It's possible he might be able to disable the implant though if it's damaged, maybe it needs to come out.
"I can give you my cell number. I … don't have a fixed address at the moment. And … let me know how much it's going to cost, I'll have to save the money."
Ranna pulls out her cell phone and hands it over to Hank. He can get her number and enter his.
"I absolutely do. In all honesty, I can say there's few people on the planet as qualified for this as I am. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but it is true, your problems all pretty much fall into my areas of expertise." Hank smiles. "And I wanted you to know that any risks are mine to take if I choose to, and I do. Fair?
Hank's leaning towards removal, if they put one way to kill her in it, there's possibly - probably even - more. Better to be safe.
"We'll worry about the cost later, don't stress about that at all." He's not planning on charging her anything, but there's no way for her to know that. He takes the phone, takes her number and programs his into it before returning it.
"Unfortunately I cannot write a prescription of any sort, I'm not a medical doctor, but I can ask the staff her to write you a scrip and they likely will." Hank sighs then. "I'm sorry I can't do more now, give me a couple days and we'll see what can be done, I'll study the files I copied from your drive, and will be in touch. Does that work for you, Ranna?"
"You … are?" Ranna, now that she's over her hesitance seems to have some degree of composure. She certainly hadn't moved or flinched during his examination, after all. "And I understand that. About risk taking." There's a very faint smile at that acknowledgment.
"I'll worry about the cost though. I appreciate the offer and I will take advantage of it." The Order Ninja isn't stupid and she wants to live.
"That works. I'll have to organise my own job and … let some people know what's going on. I don't need anything for the pain, I can generally manage it."
She just really wants the sword of damocles removed from over her head.
"Thank you, Hank. I appreciate it."
Hank smiles and nods. "I am. I look young, but I have a lot of technical and scientific and medical training to draw on." He does a /terrible/ Liam Neeson impression. "I have a very particular set of skills." He grins toothily at her smile, fangs and all, and nods. "Good then." A snort. "Worry if you must, no worries either way."
Hank shakes his head. "Take the scrip, get the pain meds, you never know if things will worsen, better to have the meds and not need them than not have them and do."
Hank smiles as he steps back. "Let me get that scrip for you, Ranna, and you're most welcome."