Summary:A trip to mutant town turns medical situation as the victims of the Cyberian's games and kennel need some help and Doc's McCoy and Almer answer the need under the watchful eyes Pride and their guardian the Hunter. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Mid-50s and mostly sunny, it is a very nice evening in the Big Apple. Having wanted to give Martin a tour of Mutant Town, Hank gathered the good doctor after he's had time to clean up after his shift and the pair headed over. Bessy, Hank's 78 Grenada, has recently had the upholstery, the seats front and back, as well as all the cloth and padding replaced (thanks Domino!) also the bare metal, AC and such had been thoroughly fumigated and the filters replaced.
Turns out - demon blood, demon mud, and demon berry goo - STINK.
In any case, the new Bessy interior actually has a new car smell.
Once they arrive, Hank parks the car near the Tolliver clinic, and then climbs on out. "Right, first we'll introduce you to the staff at the Clinic, and then I'll introduce you around, there's a shelter or two I help out when I can, and there's Hunter to introduce you to as well if she's around." A pause. "Well, she's pretty much always around, but not always findable, though I suspect she'd want to meet you." And they did mention his nature during the AAR the other day.
Having absolutely no idea about demon blood, Martin didn't think anything of the new car smell. Such things don't concern the red-head. "Sounds good." About being introduced around. The man is a little nervous as this is an area of town he's avoided for the most part. To protect himself during the registration years, and then after due to habit. Climbing out of the car, he looks around to take it all in. Martin is in casual attire with a light jacket, tshirt, and jeans. He'd really not stand out anywhere that called for casual attire. After a moment he turns back to the car to pull up the seat so that he can take a medical tote out of the back. "Hunter being that voice during the meeting, right?" He remembers that for sure. The door is gently closed as he shoulders the tote.
Mutant Town is always active. The people here, curiously enough, tend to feel safe on the streets. They walk here and there, meeting and greeting one another. None here seem the need to hide their differences. They are instead celebrated for them; indeed, most tend to largely abandon their 'flatscan' names and take up mutant monikers as a sign of strength and spiritual solidarity.
The clinic is rather well-equipped, of course, and there are staff present. More, in fact, that on an average evening, as they have called in a few extra volunteers. It seems the clinic has several folks here recovering from various wounds and conditions. Five, in fact, that Hank might be able to recognize from images captured from Ava's electronics during the after-action report from the Arena gig.
It seems this is where the Pride brought their wounded for treatment. that likely means the Hunter is not far away.
Hank notes the activity, and then sighs. "Oh, well, looks like we might be a it busier than I'd expected." Hank nods then. "Yes, Hunter was the voice on the radio in the meeting. She has extraordinarily keen senses too, I'd be surprised if she wasn't able to hear us." Softly, in Russian. <If you have time, I would like to introduce you both.> A smile to Martin, because speaking in an unknown language is rude. "I just asked her to join us, in case she's listening." He explains.
He heads to the trunk, and gets his own bag out as well as a couple boxes of supplies, effortlessly closing the trunk with his foot since his hands were full. Hank leads the way then to the clinic, greeting several people on the way, introducing them to Doc Almer, he does pause when he sees an elderly black man. "Brother Weather, how good to see you. This is my colleague, Doctor Almer, Doc, this is Weather."
Still finding the super hero world surreal, Martin shakes his head, for all he is honestly okay with the situation. "Okay." Is given since he isn't sure what to say about any of this stuff. Not used to people with senses like that! Now, Martin is paying attention to the emotional mood of the place (Being an empath). Not something he does often to be honest. Mostly just seeing if the mood is relaxed, or tense. Are people scared? Not trying to read in depth about anyone, and the reading will stop once pain is hit. Shields himself off from that so he can work.
As he's introduced, Martin smiles and greets in return, offering his hand if they want to shake. The same goes with Weather. "Hey." Offered as pleasantly as he's able.
There are, as one might expect, a wide array of emotional states in the area. The block as a whole seems pretty calm. There's some curiosity, both because Hank is not 'one of us', so folks pay attention when he comes, how and why, and because he has come with someone new and even less well known. But no panic, and no strong anger.
Inside the clinic, things are slightly higher-ratcheted, largely coming from those five patients. Several have some pronounced PTSD, and their hypervigilance is set off by new faces, exacerbated slightly by the fact that Hank's visage reminds a few of them of the battle scene in the arena.
Weather, when he approaches, is calm and stable but watchful; there is an unknown quantity here, and he is taking that cautiously. "Good evening, Doctor McCoy. I hope that you and yours are well?" the elder black man inquires. He offers his hand, carefully, to the newcomer. There's a very mild electrical shock, like a strong static charge, when his hand touches. "Greetings to Mutant Town, in the name of the Pride. You are a friend of Doctor McCoy's?" His voice is as weathered as the rest of him, for sure.
As Hank and Martin greet Weather, a pair of large orange-stripped tabbies come out of one of the curtained-off areas, sniffing and investigating the men attentively. There is an interesting glow about their eyes, but it is a subtle thing.
Newt was one of those rescued; if the others are here, likely so is she.
"We are well, Brother." A beefy hand gripping the man's shoulder, Hank looks to Martin. "Weather is an elder here, a man whom many respect." And then to Weather. "Doctor Almer can pass." He states softly. Not familiar with the powers that young Newt has, nor familiar enough to scent the girl if she was there, Hank actually assumes that the cats are emissaries of Hunter's - not all that unreasonable since they tend to congregate when the lady is around.
Still, he likes cats, so there's that. Some of his best friends are cats!
There's a bit of a jump from Martin for the shock, but he laughs for it. He's assuming normal electric shock there, and while surprised, thinks nothing more of it beyond rubbing his hand on his thigh. "More acquaintance, but he's a good heart that one." Replied of Hank. That he passes? Interesting way to put it.
When the felines start sniffing around, Martin brightens some. Kitties! "Well, hello, beauties." Drops down into a crouch, mindful his tote doesn't hit either of them, and lets them check him out. Doesn't go grabbing either, and instead offers his hand for sniffing. Sure he's clueless about Hunter, but he likes cats too. The man feels of calm and the pleasure of meeting the pair.
The cats are cautious, but they take their sniffs around both men, one at a time. Then they take some of the attention due them, and wander away through one of the curtains.
Weather nods to Hank's words but says nothing about them. "Another doctor? That can be a blessed thing, and congratulations on your long-fought studies, young man." Pardon Weather; everyone is young to him, and that's just the way it is. "As you can see, several of Us have been making ourselves available for donations, as some of the supplies of the Clinic have been low."
Indeed, several of the chairs in the waiting room are filled with various more- or less-obvious mutants, none of them very well dressed, but each of them with an arm cleaned up and bisected by a needle-borne tube going to a bag being filled. Giving blood and plasma.
"A very experienced one at that, Brother." Hank states. A grin to Martin. "And we're maybe not friends yet, but we ARE friendLY, and coworkers, so there's that. I'd say 'potential friends'." Hank's hands were full so he didn't try to scritch the kitties - for some reason they react poorly to massive clawed feet approaching them. Funny that!
Hank nods about the blood donors. "I heal swiftly, I'm sure I could donate a few pints without issue." He's not a universal donor, but plasma can be used if the whole blood isn't a match! So there's that.
If allowed, Martin will happily give the cats some scritches, and then rise to his feet when they go off. Hank is nodded to, the red-head totally agreeing. "I'd sure like to think friends." It just needs time. He smiles at Weather about being a doctor and nods. "I brought some supplies too, if you'd like them." So doesn't give trouble about being called young man. Martin knows he looks younger than he is. "My.. um, gift, is healing, so I might be able to help in that way, but I am a licensed medical doctor as well." He can handle things in mundane ways as well as mutant.
"Sure'n we trust you, Doctor McCoy. If you speak well of young Doctor Almer, here, then we welcome the help." Weather offers. Of course, he's not in charge here, not really. Clinic staff will be by to check on both men, welcome them, and accept their aid, directing them where they can be useful. This will also gain them access to the charts on the patients in care, including a young woman certainly no more than her mid-teens who is in that one curtained off space. She shows fewer physical wounds than the others, but greater psychological issues according to her chart. Her hypervigilance, it is noted, seems to have translated to her using her gifts to convince local animals to watch out for and protect her from strangers.
Martin will also see - and be the one more likely surprised by - the fact that all of the charts give only their patient's mutant names, not their human names or social security numbers. He will also see that each one of the charts is marked with a stamp of some kind, showing a stylized upward-pointing arrowhead with a P scrawled inside its form.
"I trust him implicitly, and know he's an honorable man." Hank can say that much without hesitation. A smile at the mention of friendship being on the menu. "Good, we'll work on that then." He says with a grin.
There are two patients in fairly severe condition - one is a beautiful woman, covered in soft white fur very much like her namesake 'Mink', she's missing a leg from about mid thigh, and shows signs of lengthy and unpleasant abuse.
One, a painfully thin young man with no eyes, just…smooth patches where they should be, and more life force than several people could have is in perfect physical condition and utterly catatonic, his chart names him Vitae.
The girl shows signs of physical trama, burns at wrists and throat, her chart is labeled 'Newt'.
The other two are Silver. A fairly ordinary looking woman save for her skin that is chromed and fully light reflective and glowing white eyes, she shows a lot of wear and tear, several spots of dullness - scars.
The last is a man, and he's been pretty badly beaten up, signs of multiple breaks, most set badly. A scor from eyebrow to lip on the right side of his face, the eyes milky-white, is Ruin.
The tote Martin brought in is stuffed full of medical supplies. And since he's worked as an Er physician for decades he knows what clinics need most. While the tote needs to leave with him, the contents can happily be put into their proper storage places. "Then I properly have you all fooled." Grinned at Hank. Once he's shed both tote and jacket, Martin will get to work where directed. "You want to watch?" Asked of Hank, since the furry one hasn't gotten to see him heal yet. Hank has been healed, but wasn't exactly able to watch it. "Not that it'll be all that interesting." His healing doesn't have special effects.
Martin looks everyone's charts over and is frowning for what he finds. "I can restore the limb, but that'll take me consecutive days. Ruin too, so tonight it might be best if I handle the small things. I can return to see about the rest over time?" Not sure if that'd be allowed. Sadly there's nothing he can do for psychiatric issues, unless there's a physical defect involved.
Weather comes along, but does not interfere; his most important presence is to keep everyone calm, especially those giving blood. They trust him, so his presence seems to keep them focused, rather than getting more and more angry, spiraling as they witness the harm done to their friends, or at least acquaintances.
"Whatever you think is best, Doctor. Whatever you can do, we welcome it. We have done most of what we have the ability to do. And thank you for the supplies. They are most welcome."
When Martin checks beyond that set of curtains, he will find that Newt has two familiar feline guardians. They are staying with her, one on her lap and the other pacing around her feet, which do not quite reach the floor while she stays up on the gurney in there. When he approaches, the glow in her eyes, subtle as it is, matches that from the cats. The cats' trust of him means she does not do much more than shy away from his touch and exam. But she never lets the cats out of her sight, or they her.
Hank dives right in, making sure of the phlebotomy work done, and keeping things going, before he settle in to give a pint from each arm at once. Hey! He heals FAST, fast enough to recover from this in hours, easily. The rest of the staff are friendly, clearly grateful for Martin's help, especially the Concierge nurse, Maggie. She's a somewhat stout black woman of middling years with an angel's smile, and backbone made of steel. Not literally, of course. She's human, and more human than most. Also sassy, smart and able…probably just how Martin likes his nurses to be!
The boxes of stuff Hank brought? Also supplies for the clinic, which can pretty much use everything, all the time. And being as he served much of his residency here, he knows what they need pretty well, and is a familiar face.
Yep! Martin likes them sassy! He's sure to make friends with Maggie over time. For now he's finding himself looking into that curtained spot and smiling for the cats. There they are! That Newt shies away? That's okay. The man crouches near the gurney and offers a hand. "I'm a mutant too." Which is weird since he's never actually said it that plainly before. "I'm Martin. If you let me touch your hand, I can make the hurts go away, but I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to do. That includes making things hurt less." If she doesn't take his hand, well, the red-head moves on to someone else. She's not the only one to need some healing.
Newt is nervous, but making things hurt less and fixing things are something she wants enough to, skittishly, reach out and try to accept his help. Besides, her friends say this man is safe.
For Newt, being a mutant doesn't make Martin safe. It just doesn't make him any more of a threat than anyone else.
Hank is likely to be the first one to notice a change in the 'air', as it were, as a scent his hindbrain knows well approaches the clinic but stays outside. The intellectual that is Hank likely finds it odd how tuned in he just suddenly is to his sense of smell; he hasn't had a lot of time to get used to this aspect, yet, of those heightened instincts that came along with the heightened senses.
"Nurse Maggie, would you make sure that Doctor Almer gets plenty of the energy bars in my bag? His power is fueled by his body, he'll need constant food and hydration as he works." Maggie nods, a bright smile shocking contrast to very dark skin. "Doctor McCoy, I will." She looks him up and down, and then moves off. "And I'll see YOU get fed too." An aside to Martin. "Man's a genius, positively a GENIUS — at /not takin' care o'hisself/."
Hank chuffs laughter at the teasing from the nurse. Sadly, she's not wrong.
And then his senses prickle, and he can sense the approach of the Hunter. Nope, he's not used to the super-senses again, even though it is has been some few months, and truth be told with his newly enhanced and augmented instincts, their integration together is something he's wrestling with. Even so, he has the presence of mind to let Martin know what to expect. "Doctor Almer, just a heads up - I believe that Hunter is coming by, don't be alarmed, she has a very strong 'predator' vibe to her, her aura can be daunting, but she is a friend."
"The geniuses always have a drawback, right?" Teasing Hank about his lack of eating. Considering what little he has learned, and he purposely didn't try to learn more of the horror, Martin feels Newt has every right to be scared witless and be wary. Take his hand and the man merely smiles, trying to share calm and a sense of comfort. He doesn't force his emotions on others, but it's a sense that seems to surround him. Nothing obvious happens, but with physical contact the red-head learns what harm has been done and eases that pain. The hurts fade away, and then he gets to repairing those burns, as well as the worst of the bruises. He won't remove everything since there are others who also need help, but it'll be a good improvement. Those burns will be entirely gone though.
He's pretty much done when Hank warns him. Looking tired now, Martin nods, but turns his attention back to Newt. The shift in Hank had been sensed, but Martin finds Newt more important right now. "And that's all, sweetness." Will let go of her hand and not try to touch her again. "That better?" Asked with a warm smile. And yes, he is totally going to need those energy bars.
Newt's eyes get very wide when Martin is proven not to be a liar, and the pain fades way. She lets her eyes drift half-lidded then, breathing slowly, calmly, letting herself relax as much as she can manage as her wounds close and heal far faster than normal. When he is done, Newt actually offers a brief smile at being called 'sweetness'. She does not speak, but she bobs her head in answer to his question: better? Heck yeah!
Maggie is right on hand to help Martin up after he is finished, shoving a power bar in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. "Alright, everyone. Remember: move slowly. Don't look Hunter in the eyes. And open the vents; more air helps." It seems the staff here are aware of Hunter, and with some warning know what to do to control and minimize the situation.
A minute or so later, Weather looks towards the door just as it opens, slowly. In walks a woman who does not visually look that impressive; she is only barely taller than average, and is a dirty, greasy mess dressed in threadbare military surplus attire. Her entire appearance bespeaks 'homeless veteran'. But preceding her into the room comes an aura of sheer, unadulterated intensity and danger that speaks directly to the hindbrain screaming 'predator!' and 'threat!'. Depending on who looks when, some will also spot a curious amber backlight to the otherwise emerald green gaze coming out of that dirty, besmirched face. The tensions of most of the others in the clinic ratchet up significantly, as to be expected; but it seems most of them are used to this, and know what to do to keep themselves under control. That does nothing for what they feel, but they are not swamped and undone by it.
"Head in the clouds, not the now." Hank agrees readily. "Alas, I tend to getdistracted by thin-SQUIRREL!" He says with a credible Dug the Dog impression. At least can laugh at himself, right? And bonus, it might help a little with the tension that ratchets up. Not even bothering to fix bandages to where the blood draws were, he is there to greet the Hunter as she arrives. "Hello Hunter." He nods towards Martin. "Doctor Almer, Martin." And then Martin. "Hunter."
Introductions made, he wolfs down a power bar himself, and then starts gathering up the blood bags from the other donors, and gets them situated around a small table with juice and cookies, before they are allowed to leave.
"Good." For Newt being better. Martin will pet one of the cats if they allow, and then gets helped up by Maggie. There is a laugh as his hands are filled with food and drink, and Hank is making jokes. The man feels of gratitude.. but then the sense of him disappears. Mostly thanks to Hunter. Yeah, that shift is enough to drive Martin to putting up his shields. This is a man who's faced life or death situations before, but that doesn't make him a bit comfortable as Hunter comes inside. He appears calm though, and tucks the water beneath an arm so that he can open the wrapper of that energy bar. Steps outside of that curtained area so that Newt can have her privacy.
Introduced, the red-head nods respectfully to Hunter. "Hey." Short, but polite. "Do you need any help too?" After that he too is eating. Needs to refuel so that he can heal the others.
Hunter breathes in slowly, evenly, as she stands in the doorway. She comes in enough to let the door close, but does not actually close it. She offers a nod towards Hank, and another towards the introduced Martin. That voice she recalls only very briefly over the radio. The smell is unfamiliar, but is noted now and will never be forgotten.
At Martin's question the Hunter shakes her head just slightly. "Here." she offers. "Meet you." Again, as she was on the radio that day, this is a woman of incredibly few words, as if she parcels them out as precious treasure, summing up whole paragraphs in a word or two. Her voice is oddly slurred, mush-mouthed; this does not make her impossible to understand, but it does take some getting used to.
Hunter gestures to the rest of the occupants of the clinic, slowly. "Takes care?" she asks, watching the others as they nod, agreeing to her question slowly. Then she nods, eyeing Martin again. "Mink. Leg. Truth?" she asks with laser intensity and focus.
Having finished his own bar, Hank gets to work on the next batch of donors, processing them with a smooth efficiency. After all, this is a free clinic, they don't have much in the way of staff, the only RN is Maggie, there's also an LPN and a couple of unlicensed 'go fers'. So, Hank does the needful, he isn't too proud. A toothless smile offered to Hunter and then he watches how Martin and she get along as he works, easily able to multitask.
He lets Martin answer the questions, not his place to do it and it would be rude to do so as well. "He's a future friend." Hank does offer. "I already like him, and I know he can be trusted."
Martin remembers the advice of move slowly. Quite the experience this! Polishing off that energy bar in record time, he nods to Hunter. "I sure will." Take care of them. Asking of Mink's leg, he makes himself smile to try and assure. "Truth. It won't be fast, but I can do it over a few days. I promise." Will repair Ruin's broken and healed bones as well. As Hank says he's trusted, Martin keeps that smile. He cracks open his water and downs a good bit of it. Unlike Hank, he remembers to eat! The food already has his appearance improving, for all he was just tired looking.
Hearing all of that, Hunter nods. "Pride thanks." she offers to Martin. She looks around, noting all of those here and what they are doing. "Pride watches." she offers, not just to Martin, but to all of them. It is not just a statement of fact: it is an oath. Here, they are under watch. Under protection.
Here, they will be safe.
That said, very quietly - even in those stompy boots - Hunter then strides through the clinic and slips under the curtain into Newt's space. It's easy to see beneath the curtain that she kneels down, and soft sounds can be heard. "Hssst." Churring, other uniquely feline sounds. And then silence. Hunter stays in there for a while, making no sound whatsoever, barely even breathing. The predator feeling lessens, but never goes away.
Hank grins as he sees how well things are going with Hunter and Martin, he meets Marty's eyes and nods approval. They'll discuss more later, but he offers a sense of encouragement by posture and bearing, even if the empath is shielded. Not that Hank is aware of that empathy.
Ruin is paying attention too, well used to controlling his fight or flight response. "Doc Almer?" He calls to get the man's attention. "You ever need anything destroyed, let me know." His voice is harsh, like tearing leather. Sincere though.
Newt? She lights right up when she sees Hunter, climbing down off her bed, and showing her her friends. She doesnt't even notice the Hunter's aura - that's the rest of the world, not Hunter, she's SAFETY.
It's weird. She's so intimidating, and yet Martin understands immediately. That's a promise of safety more than threat, but still a warning. He'll heed both for sure. Moving away so Hunter can access Newt, the red-head nods back to Hank, and manages a more real smile. He puts the water bottle aside, and finds another victim… er, patient. Will check Vitae due to the catatonia, but mostly sticks to healing the others of small injuries so that they can rest comfortably. And when made that offer by Ruin, Martin chuckles. "You might not be thanking me later." But his tone suggests this is teasing. "Me repairing your bones won't be comfortable." For now though he just makes everyone not hurt as much. Limbs will be regrown in the days ahead, bones broken and healed properly, then in the end he'll even take care of the scars. Sadly none of that can happen tonight.
The fact that Newt is unafraid of her, that she finds safety in her presence is what draws Hunter to stay with her, for a while. She knows what her presence does to others; she stays away because of it. But to help Newt, she stays for a while, quietly, calmly holding the girl. That she can communicate with and earn the trust of Newt's new guardians - members of her own clowder - makes this a very relaxing little while for her.
Maggie keeps a very close eye on everything and everyone. Martin is kept fed and hydrated in spite of himself, as is Hank and all of the patients, especially those who are giving blood.
About half an hour later, Maggie slides open the certain to check on Newt and Hunter. She smiles. "It's alright, Hunter. We will keep her safe here. Let me — OK. Nevermind. You do it." Hunter scoops up the now-sleeping Newt and situates her on the gurney. Then she scoops up the cats, putting them in to join her, knowing the pressure of their physical presence will reassure the girl and allow her to sleep.
A few soft sounds to the cats, and then Hunter nods to Maggie and steps out, nodding to the others as she moves to the door and disappears. Within less than a minute that oppressive aura fades, and everyone unclenches.
Hunter is—unique, killer's aura, predator's mien, and a protector's soul all wrapped up in a filthy set of fatigues and deliberately slurred and mushy speech.
Ruin grins at Martin. "Doc, if you can set 'em right, so they stop hurting -constantly-, I'll be grateful. Can't pay nothin', but I kid you not, you need somethin' destroyed, none better'n me."
He's not even thinking about the scarring. "Oh…and if can fix the eye, that would be great, dunno if you can."
Maggie is the heart and soul of the clinic, the linchpin that keeps everything from flying apart at the seams. She's even a very skilled nurse, thirty years on the job, and spent five before that as a candy striper!
Once the Hunter is gone, should martin peek out from behind his shields he'd sense how deeply relieved and asleep Newt is, the cats keeping her calm, the relative absence of pain better balm than any drug.
Martin is glad that aura is gone, even if he feels a little guilty over it. He keeps his fields up though. For now. Ruin is smiled at. "Money isn't anything I need. I'd rather you not hurting." As for the eye, there's a nod. "I sure can. If you're patient with me, I'll get you back to rights." The problem is always time. Fed after each healing, he'll be able to do far more than he normally might. But after that? Either Hank takes him home, or he crashes here and sleeps like the dead. Does need to work in the morning, but he'll be back in the evenings for the foreseeable future.