Doctor's Appointment

[sndwurks]

Holding out his arm, Billy lets out a breath through is nose. The wry grin clings to his face, and he shakes his head slightly.

"Really, I don't care," offers Billy, with a shrug. "Warning me or not warning me isn't going to make it any less unpleasant when you stick me and nothing happens. Do whatever makes you the most comfortable, doc. This is going to take you at least a couple tries, and I'm not going anywhere."

[Ellie Kennigan]

[GM: I appreciate your patience! Been writing mods like a fiend.]

Ellie shrugs as well. "Fine, then," she says, using one gloved index finger to turn his chin away from his outstretched arm until he's facing the door, "Why don't you tell me some story you learned from the tribe while I work?" There is the feeling of a tourniquet being tied and firm fingers working his arm.

[sndwurks]

Pointed away from the needle and the work on his arm, Billy takes in a thoughtful breath. He holds it for a second, letting it out slowly through his nose. He gives a faint nod, staring towards the exit of the tent.

"This was a story told to me by an old woman about a decade ago," says Billy after a moment. "She was old, well over seventy. I was doing a job for the tribe up at the reservation in Canada, near Odanak. It was late, and the job was over, and I was sitting in the bar they have up on the rez. There was just the two of us there... it must have been... nine in the morning? She was getting some breakfast, and I was getting some dinner. You know how hours get past you, right?

"So, anyways, it's just the two of us, and it's blowing an awful winter storm out. You know those kind of storms we get in the north country? Can't see anything but white, can't hear anything by the wind, can't feel anything but cold. It's nine in the morning, and it might as well be midnight outside. And I'm just looking out into the storm, thinking about getting to my motel when she tells me to stay.

"'Don't go out there,' she says. When I ask why, she tells me that her father died in a storm like this, when she was just a girl. Back when she was eight, she and her mother were living in one of the villages on the rez, trying to make ends meet on what little aid the government sent in and what could be hunted in the winter. Her dad was a hunter, and they had run out of their last tin just as a hard storm hit. Still, he picked up his rifle, and headed out into it.

"He came back two days later, arriving after sun was down and carrying the body of a big old deer he'd managed to take down. He had gotten lost in the storm. Her mother and her helped skin it and butcher it, and it was going to be enough to get them through the winter. They packed the meat in the snow to keep it, and cooked a thick venison stew. All the while, their father sat in their cabin by the fireplace, staring at it. When they poured him a bowl he refused it, saying he had to make sure that they ate their fill first. And so they ate, and all the while her father waited by the fire. She remembers falling asleep looking up at him, and she told me about that sad sort of smile he had. She said she remembered him telling her it was all going to be alright, just before falling asleep.

"When she woke up, he was gone. They had the deer and the stew, but he was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until the spring that they found the body. He had tripped over a log no more than three miles from their cabin, fallen down a ravine and broken his neck. It was sudden, and had happened during the storm. She had tried telling people what she knew, that her father had come back to them and made sure they'd make it through the winter. But even her mother told her that she had dreamed it. Her mother never explained where the deer came from otherwise. And ever since then, she's warned people to stay out of the storms when they get that way... it's too easy to get turned around. Get turned around too much, and even if you ever find your way home... you won't be able to stay."

With that, Billy trails off, giving a faint chuckle. He glances back towards Ellie, lifting a brow to regard her progress.

"How goes the sawbonesing?"

[It's all good. Writing mods = more plot. More plot = more good. More good = hooray.]

[Ellie Kennigan]

"No saws yet," Ellie answers thoughtfully and after a pause continues in characteristic Northern dryness, "but don't get too cocky."

The syringes must be on the rolling tray directly behind her, and she is taping a cotton ball in place. By the time Billy finishes the story, the doctor has tried to draw blood three times from his heavily scarred arm, seemingly painlessly and mostly in professional silence. The vein must have rolled away from the needle the first time and came up empty. The second was accompanied by a small snort of frustration, and the third was met with surprise.

"Seems like what I did get must have... hemolyzed... or started to cause a hematoma..." Awkwardly, she trails off. "Medical protocol states I should probably find someone else to try it, but you'll pardon me if I don't in your case. Going to try a different source, bear with me," she says stiffly. With a quick glance at him over the rims of her glasses, she rolls the tray with her behind him.

"You don't mess with winter," Ellie agrees conversationally, referring back to his story. Again, with a doctor's professionalism, she bares part of his back and takes one of the extra syringes she'd prepared from the tray. "Accidents happen," she continues as she works, "and not the first or last time I'll hear a story like that in the north country. Though half the time it's because people just aren't prepared for it. You go outside, inside of your nose freezes at the first inhale, and you know it's below zero so you put on some extra layers. Some folks from down your way," she sighs, "they come up to rent a snowmobile, and that's the end of that. It's a shame."

"Alright, you're done, free and clear, Billy St. Francis. I've got what they need." The doctor rolls away the tray to the other side of the room, tossing used needles into the biohazard bin.

[Sally]

[Both Sally and Mason Fell are in the Waiting Room/Intake Area]

In the intake area of the Medical Tent, Sally stands half-in-and-half out of the doorway- a proper 6'3", 220 lbs of In-the-Way. After the mess with Alice, he and Deputy Marshal Fell chat idly about the implications of their co-habitation with the the armored and armed guards.

It takes Sally a moment or two to realize that this tent doesn't look so different from one he woke up in some time ago. Sure, there were less scorch marks and holes in the tent-walls, and rather than mounds of dust, dirt, and and, there was snow outside, but a bonesaw's a bonesaw, right?

Without a thought as to why, Sally shifts his weight to his left leg and takes a swig from his flask.

Since they're alone for the moment, he asks Mason, "Say, if that doc puts a stethoscope up to ya, 'r jabs ya with a needle, it gonna do any good?" He looks confounded as he asks this. He'd certainly seen his share of demon blood, but had never stopped to check vitals, if you follow.

As he puts his flask away, Sally notices that he and Mason aren't alone. He glances at Miss Walker, then back to Mason, and says, somewhat stiltedly, "Uh, not that it shouldn't, er, work as regular?"

[sndwurks]

Billy accepts the three attempts with little to no actual signs of discomfort. It's more resignation than anything else. When Ellie exposes part of his back, the quality of his arms comes into stark contrast. Whereas Billy's arms are puckered along the seams of the skin grafts, the skin on his back is nothing but discolored, misshapen flesh that looks more like melted wax than anything natural. The texture is almost rubbery, and oddly dry. While the doctors who put him back together were able to work miracles on his arms and face, it is fairly clear that that is where the miracle ends and the damage of the fire truly hits home.

Billy nods in agreement with Ellie as she speaks, trying to keep his chest still as to not interfere with her work.

"I know that better than most," he offers with a touch of sadness in his voice. "Hell, it's almost macabre how much part of my making ends meets involves double-checking police work in the case of just such accidents. I feel a little bad about it, taking their money to make sure that it was just an accident... and sometimes, it's not, but usually it is. I try to think that getting the closure from someone you can trust helps their families heal though."

Once Ellie rolls the tray away, Billy readjusts his shirt and vest, and shifts to stand up from the cot. He nods to Ellie, and lifts a brow.

"So, not too much of a bother, I hope?" he asks, tone spiced with a dry humor.

[Wolfman2006]

Mason gives Sallie a quick glare at the question and covers his upper face in his palm
"I think I'll be fine Sallie, I'd be more worried about what reaction your gonna get to your blood tests considering the amount of booze in them... why don't we lay off the stuff until at least after the appointment?"

[cathy]

Zoey walks up to the waiting area just in time for Mason's words. She smiles and gives a small laugh.

"Hehe, asking Sally not to drink is asking Sally to accept a monarchy in this country." She looks to Sally with a twinkle in her eye. "Looks like it is going to be a small wait for my turn. Good to see you in line Sally."

[Sally]

Red faced and slightly dumbstruck at his own foolishness, Sally says,

"Mason, ya know, ya bring up an interestin' point. Here I am, babblin' off at the gob like some kinda old-timer at the VFW. I must sound like halfa loony, huh? Might be that all the fuss this afternoon's got me kickin' back on the sauce harder'n usual..."

Sally actually blurts, "And thank god, if it ain't Dr. Zinc!" when he sees the medic. Eager for the out, he says, "Me and Mason were jus' considerin' sovereignty and such, given our predicament. A man can put up with some barbed wire fences, flack-jacketed goons, and even havin' his golldarn arms snatched, but if that Deputy Director or any of them local yokels start talkin' kings and princes and such, I swear to bleedin' Christ that I'll flip my darn lid."

With a glance over to Miss Walker, Sally keeps rambling on, "Though, Mason's got a right good point there, 'bout my, err, pro-cliv-ities," he pats at his flask, " 'n who knows what ol' Gondorff's been brewin' his moonshine with? Wouldn't surprise me none if this doc taps a vein and my lifesblood comes out smellin' like diesel..."

Unless stopped, Sally will continue rambling, in an effort cover his gaffe, his accent growing thicker with each minute or so that passes.

[Erica]

Antalya glances around at the crowd that is forming in the little waiting area. One eyebrow raises slightly at Salvador's question and his coverup.

She clearly finds the conversation amusing, but not noteworthy. Like something you might overhear on the bus on the way home from work. If you worked in a particularly interesting part of town.

She nods to Zoe.
"Hi, Doc. How are you doing these days?"