fandom_clinic | FTEC, Thursday (8/4)

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FTEC, Thursday (8/4)

Scully had awoken cranky, but determined. Time to get to the bottom of her transformation!

She stomped off into town, and shot at two teal deer who tried to stop her from going inside the clinic. She took a sample of their blood as they limped away. (And drank some of it, but not from the sample. You had to keep your materials separate to avoid contamination.)

The nurses were staying waaaay on the other side of the Clinic from her, as she worked on her tests.

"Thith ith ridiculuth," she muttered through her just-starting-to-emerge fangs, as she broke yet another beaker. Really, those things didn't grow on trees!

Then she was absorbed in Science again.

[ocd ~~on its way~~ up!]

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"Hmmmm?" Scully looked up from her microscope absently. "My cells are doing a rhumba," she said calmly. "Look at this, tell me what you see."

What he'd see were blood cells writhing as they transformed, along with those that were already a weird gray-opal-unquantifiable color. Shimmering in a very unhealthy way.

"I'm Scully, by the way. Pleased to meet you." She rubbed at her hands and the scales absently. Itchy!

Thats what he'd see if he were looking through the microscope; his sense of something being wrong kept him from stepping any closer.

"Is that a... normal state for you?" he asked.

"The cellular mobility? No," Scully said, a tad cranky that he wouldn't look at her Shiny Blood. "It's brand-new. Claudia is calling it the Massachusetts Death Flu, but it looks more like a parasite or phage."

"I'm Ronan Nolan -- Monday shift -- and I'm thinking maybe we should get you back to an exam room of your own."

Hearing that this was some kind of illness... This kind of healing was hard for wizards, since parasites and other micro-organisms were just another form of life. That said, this didn't exactly seem to be a normal kind of illness.

Scully frowned. "But I'm working!" A crafty look crossed her face. "If you let me look at your blood, I'll go with you."

Ronan frowned. Deeply.

"All right," he said -- and before Scully could move, he grabbed a slide and used one of the more interesting spells he'd learned during his internships to pull a drop of blood out of one finger without needing to prick it. "There," he said, swiftly prepping the slide and placing it on the table between him and Scully without moving closer. "Your sample."

Scully was disappointed that Ronan didn't let her do it herself-- She liked that part with the needles! But she was soon absorbed in the analysis. "You don't have a trace of it. Interesting! If we're right about this being because of the rock, it's going to be very very hard to eradicate. That thing is indestructible."

Ronan raised an eyebrow. "This if Fandom," he pointed out. "That thing will be dust by Sunday."

Scully considered, then said very seriously, "I really hope not. I want to study it some more."

Beat.

"What am I saying?"

"Whatever it is," Ronan said, "it seems to be the influence of whatever's going on. Can I try to heal it now?"

Scully got out her recorder and her notebook, already sliding back into obsession, but aware enough to say, "Please, feel free."

Ronan nodded, concentrating on the spell he was building. "Scans first," he murmured, pulling up a diagnostic spell. "... Okay, this may... tingle."

Her cells were changing -- dancing, almost, quivering, changing colour -- and there weren't as many regular ones left as Ronan would like. There were enough, though, for him to find what they were supposed to be like, and use it as a template to try and tell the others what they were supposed to be like.

As Ronan talked to Scully's body, telling it in the speech, almost cell-by-cell, to listen to itself, to fight back, he could see her flesh returning to normal, spreading up one arm as he worked his way up. Sweat started to break out on his brow as he concentrated, working harder -- and then he noticed that the gray was returning, spreading back up from where he'd started working and following the same path he'd taken through her body.

It was like a rolling blackout of cells! Normal normal gray gray gray, normal normal gray gray gray...

Scully watched, fascinated, and winced. It wasn't exactly entirely painless.

Ronan spat out a harsh word, biting off the spell with a tight wizard's knot, stronger than he'd normally use. "That... isn't going to work," he explained. "Maybe -- maybe -- if a few healers got together to work all at once, but it's recovering as fast as I can heal it."

"Hmmmmmm," Scully hummed, writing this down, still fascinated by her own imminent destruction. Even as a tiny part of her was screeching NO NONONONO! about it. "Thank you for showing me that," she said, then rubbed her head. "I might... need to be sedated in a bit."

"... In a bit, or now?" Ronan asked. "And I'm thinking maybe some restraints, as well."

Sorry, Scully.

"Just please pad them so they don't chafe. And if you could hook up the headphones on my MP3 player, I'd apprethiate it."

Stupid fangs.

Ronan nodded. "Let's get you to a bed, then," he said. "Any preference as to sedative?"

What? She worked here; he figured she'd know what she'd want.

"50 cc's of phenobarbitol." MOre than she'd usually prescribe, but then, she wasn't normal today. "Please." Maybe it would give her good dreams?

Ronan nodded. "Let's get you into a bed," he said, gesturing for her to lead the way. He wanted her where he could see her.

And he was maybe lining a shield spell up in his head as they walked.

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FTEC, Thursday (8/4)

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