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| Trauma Center; I need professional help...hellllp... | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 23 2009, 05:45 PM (35 Views) | |
| Lord Noon | Feb 23 2009, 05:45 PM Post #1 |
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It is an indeterminate time after the last Mayhem broadcast. The world has been plunged into darkness following the entirely unexpected demise of Frisconelli and 'the Hammer', and the passing of Bellatrix Jones sr. not long after. Alas, those hoping for some cheer from ACW's resident geek to make up for all the bad juju should probably look elsewhere. ???: Excuse me, ma'am, are you Mrs. >CENSORED< ? In the crisp-white waiting room of an unrecognisable hospital, Julia Peach's mother turns to the source of the voice; a clean-shaven, twenty-something doctor with a side-parting in his hair, and a strange winged crest upon the breast of his white coat. Mother: Yes, that's me. ???: Pleased to meet you. I'm Dr. Stiles, I've been looking after your daughter for the past few nights. Mother: Oh, good. I'm sorry to have taken up so much of your time with something that doesn't seem really urgent, but I've been terribly worried lately... She gets to her feet and follows Dr. Stiles down the corridors of the building, past many blank doors marked with a red-and-white parasol emblem, and windows behind which lurk curiously darkened rooms, the only visible contents being rusted shelves holding hacksaws, dirty syringes and bottles of unlabelled chemicals. None of this is noticed by Julia's mother, oddly. Dr. Stiles: Please, it's not a problem. Psychotherapy isn't really my area of expertise - hey, Dr. Birkin, good to see you looking better... A pale, wiry fellow with dirty blonde hair and a bad hunch nods to Stiles with a tight-lipped smile as they cross paths... Dr. Stiles: ...but any way to help the needy or the unfortunate makes my day a little more worthwhile. And you were right to call. I'm afraid to say it, ma'am, but Julia's condition is...more severe than we initially thought. The doctor comes to a stop outside one door in particular, and we note the fear on Julia's mother's face as he swipes his ID card through the locking device. Mother: I don't understand, doctor, I mean...she looks fine on the outside. It's just that she says such strange things sometimes... Dr. Stiles: Sadly, this isn't just a curious psychological disorder we're dealing with here. The door slides upwards with a pneumatic hiss, and the two step into the room beyond. There is little walking space inside, as most of the floor is taken up with computers and electronic monitoring systems, tied into another, linked room, separated from this one by a magic mirror. Whilst the side with the computers is poorly lit, the ajoined room is bright white, with spartan, artistic furniture, including a bean-bag that currently supports Julia Peach. Naturally, her attention is not on the mirror, but on the TV linked to the room's Wii; what it shows is a large, vile scorpion scurrying through a dark, dingy tunnel. Metaphor, or just a personal favourite game? Who knows? Dr. Stiles: Angie, the x-rays, if you please. A pretty, slim blonde nurse in a light pink outfit hands several plastic sheets to Stiles, who switches on a desk lamp and holds the sheets before them, revealing an x-rayed image of a human skull, and the curving lines of brain tissue within. The doctor's finger denotes a particular dark area on the left side. Mother: What is that? Dr. Stiles: An aneurysm - uh, that's a vein that gets clogged up on the inside, causing it to swell and exert pressure on the surrounding flesh, organs and other tissue. In this case, it's within Julia's brain, and the pressure is causing her mind to function abnormally. Right now, it's just minor hallucinations, maybe some daydreaming episodes, but as time goes on... The doctor trails off, unwilling or unable to say more. Julia's mom can't think of any words, as she pushes one hand against the glass and stares in at her daughter through eyes that are now filling with tears... Meanwhile: Julia: BOOM! HEADSTAB! Julia claps her hands together as another QTE fatality results in one unfortunate desert rat having its skull punctured by the stinger of the GamesMistress' scorpion. She then raises one palm to the side - Julia: Gimme five, Gordon! - and receives a high-five from a bespectacled, bearded man in a haz-mat suit who you'd swear wasn't there a second ago. Pausing for a moment, Julia leans back and stretches with a groan, then frowns pensively as something occurs to her. Julia: Hope they let me outta this place soon...I don't wanna miss giving Iman a serious butt-kicking at Dangerzone. Or, y'know, taking a serious butt-kicking from Iman. Actually...I kinda feel like avoiding that... eh well, you win some, you lose some, but as long as there's another quarter in your pocket, you keep playing. No biggie." And she smiles, blissfully unaware as ever. |
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7:56 AM Nov 26
