fandom_clinic | FTEC- Sunday

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FTEC- Sunday

Kitty had maybe been deliberately vague on radio. Somehow she'd thought that and if these embryos get left in you you're going to turn into a parasitic alien monster and die was something that might not go over well being broadcast over the airwaves. So, hopefully she'd warned people enough to actually come down.

Not that there was really anything anyone could do for them until this machine got built, but they keep keep the infected comfortable. And watch them just in case they turned into monsters.

So the clinic was open, and hopefully there would be people coming down both to stay and to help.

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Whether it's because you're infected or you want to help at the clinic for the day.

"I'm having an alien baby and my skin's green," Gwen said, holding up her hand. "Normal? Yes, no?"

She was way more freaked out than she was letting on.

"Yeah," Kitty said, feeling really bad about it. "It's the start."

Gwen stared at her. "This'll get worse?"

"Eventually they take you over," Kitty said, hating every word.

"What the hell, why wasn't that on radio?" Gwen demanded. "I'm going to turn into one of those things?"

Deja vu.

"What, would you want to hear that over the radio?" Kitty countered. "We're working on a solution. All you've gotta do is hold on till then."

Hopefully they could.

Pinkie came in with a little red wagon full of miscellany and party supplies. "I was told I could move my party here," she said. "Yeah," she continued in a funny voice, nudging the pile of rocks with her foot. "And my tea's gettin' cold!"

You drowned out the hivemind your way, Pinkie did it her way.

The nearest nurse looked confused, but Kitty wasn't even gonna question it. "Sure, knock yourself out," she said, and added, "Not literally."

Kitty knew Pinkie so well.

"Okidokiloki!" Pinkie saluted and started setting up her little tea party in a corner. And offering tea to anyone else who came into the clinic.

An infected Parker was helping a non-infected but very battered Eliot in to the Clinic now.

"He needs some help," Parker called out. "So we can rule the world!"

Sometimes that Brood got in a comment or two.

"Parker please stop yelling." Eliot had made it to the blinding headache at absolutely every single stimulus stage of his concussion. At least his head had stopped bleeding. "She's infected," he said to . . . whoever might or might not be paying attention. "But -- not violent yet."

"I could be violent," Parker said craftily, but then immediately added, "but you're already paste, so."

Keeping the Brood distracted was hard work, although now she was poking a little at Eliot's face, and then poking her own for comparison.

Well, that was much more painful than usual. Eliot hoped his skull wasn't moving. "Don't --" He tried to lean away from her poking and the world turned into a bucket of swirling paint. "Could someone please get me an aspirin."

"Someone needs to do that," Parker agreed, and then another part of her said, "although it's funny to watch you suffer."

A nurse hurried over, looking competent and concerned, and stared helping Parker get Eliot to a bed, asking what happened.

"Hardison beat the crap out of him. And then we walked over here from the diner."

"Hit me with a Glock 19," Eliot elaborated. "Repeatedly." He hissed and flinched away when the nurse dabbed at the dried blood. "Parker, d'ya have to say all the horrible stuff in your head right now?"

"I don't know," Parker said, "but it kinda keeps me from hurting you worse." Then she paused and added, "I can say them under my breath? Or I could start trying to twist off your toes?"

Look how considerate she was being!

Re: Arrive

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Re: Arrive

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You can start your own thread for people to ping off of!

Ada hadn't been allowed to go back to the dorms last night, since her wound wasn't healing. Then radio had happened and-- Ada wasn't going back to the dorms at all.

Today? Well, today she didn't have a hole in her abdomen. Instead, it was scaling -- not scabbing -- over, and it wasn't her scales. These were brown, rough, hard; not her smooth copper-and-gold. More immediately obvious was the yellow taking over the whites of her eyes, making the deep-water blue of her irises look almost black, and the bruised cast to her normally pale skin.

But worst of all? For the first time in her life, the constant call of the o ocean in the back of her mind was failing. The familiar tide that tugged at her mind was being drowned out by a whispering more insistent, more demanding. It scratched at her brain, carving out places for it to fit, peeling away bits of Ada Miller.

Ada already knew what it felt like to lose parts of yourself, the sensation of being erased in favor of something lurking inside your DNA. Even if radio hadn't said anything about it, she knew what was happening to her right now. And like hell was she going to go down without a fight.

It was just... those voices were getting louder by the hour, and the ocean was getting quieter, farther away.

It didn't exactly fill a girl with optimism.

Dante made it back to the clinic eventually, blue eyes worried and steps going pretty fast. "Ada?" he said, peeking his head into an exam room. "There you are."

"Hey," she said, propping herself up on her elbows so she could sit up a little and look at him. "You're back! Nurses draft you to babysit me so they could get in a nap?"

"More like I told them to fuck off so you could have your space," Dante said, smiling faintly at her as he slipped into the room. "How're you feeling?"

Ada made a face. "One more person wants to take my temperature, I'm gonna tell 'em where to stuff that thermometer," she warned him. "Radio says there's an alien monster baby in me. How do you think I feel?"

Scared? Maybe a little. Kinda nauseated. Mostly pissed off.