hadriel_logs | Checking for Rabies [Closed]

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Checking for Rabies [Closed]

Who: Michael Munroe and Nathan Drake
What: Nate visits the clinic
Where: ... the clinic
When: 5/6
Warnings: Discussion of injuries?

[Now that the whole "confess your sins to everyone" event is over, Michael is back to his regular work at the clinic without issues. Just the usual patching up people who decide to go fight monsters, which he prefers to all that mindfuckery anyway.

It's a slow day, which they won't have any of for a while when the newbies show up, so he's making the most of it to catch up on paperwork. Which he's still not sure why they do around here? But whatever, it's busywork, so it's relaxing. He's got a bunch of stuff spread out on one of the beds no one is currently using, and is scribbling away on a clipboard.]

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[He should probably make a habit of venturing by the clinic more often than he actually does, but since Nate spent the better part of his formative years without health insurance he still has strange moments of pause when the stray thought I should see a doctor wanders through his subconscious.

Hadriel is almost a comforting blast from the past, even if it sucks that they don't have dental.]

Uh. Hi.

[The clinic is quiet, and the only person in the immediate vicinity is one of the guys he remembers from the meeting about Name. Michael something-or-other, Nate never got the surname.]

[Michael hears the door and remembers he has another job he's supposed to be doing. The Paperwork Zone is a deep, deep place. But when someone actually comes in and addresses him, he looks up. And promptly realizes he's made a mess. Oops.

He stands up, trying to tidy his pile of loose papers and folders real quick.]

Uh, hey. Do you need some help, or are you looking for someone?

[They get both kinds in here, with how many employees the clinic has.

He realizes, of course, that this is the guy from the Name meeting, but he figures it's best to pretend they've never met for now. Just in case anyone's listening in.]

[Oh, right, they're supposed to pretend they don't know each other. He can play along with that, if it makes Michael more comfortable. He can't blame the guy for any lingering paranoia after the way that group meeting went.]

Kind of just came in for a check-in.

[Contain your shock.]

I'm Nate.

A check-in?

[In this, the city of people who'd try to walk off a broken leg? Michael will not contain his shock. Like, literally nobody comes in here unless they have to. With the exception of that one kid who shows up for everything.]

For anything specific, or just like, a general-? [He makes a vague hand gesture at Nate's whole self. Where does he even start with a check-up? He's not a real doctor.]

Oh, and, uh, Michael.

[That's not even suspicious, he forgets to introduce himself all the time.]

[The panic seems to register with a brief flicker on Michael's face before Nate can hasten to stop it, and he supplements his reassurances with a chuckle.]

I'm not looking for a physical, don't worry.

[It would be too much to ask, anyway, that there be qualified medical professionals here instead of clinic volunteers. Otherwise Nate wouldn't have had Lance stitch up his shark bites last summer.]

Got hit by a local vampire a few weeks back, I just want to be sure it's all kosher.

[You know, not infected.]

[Oh thank god. Not the vampire thing, the "not looking for a physical" thing. The vampire thing, uh, sucks. Hah. He doesn't say that out loud, though. This is clearly very serious or something.]

Local vampire, huh? Didn't know we had one of those.

[Realizing he won't need the bed for anything, he just kind of dumps the paperwork back onto it and goes to get gloves.]

I guess we should check your vital signs, to make sure you're not turning undead. I'm assuming this is a neck wound?

[Never stifle your puns for Nate, Michael. Never.]

Surprise?

[The worst kind of surprise: vampires you didn't anticipate running into in a desolate alleyway. Nate quirks a slightly-awkward, crooked smile and wanders away from the threshold and into the room.]

You think it'd take that long to become noticeable? [Unconsciously, he rubs at the fresh scar on his neck.] It's there, yeah, and other places. Sucker had some serious claws.

And it's not even a good surprise.

[He'd much rather find out about, like, roving bands of puppies than vampires.]

I won't pretend to know a whole lot about how vampirism works. They don't exactly cover that in med school. [And he never read Dracula.] Better safe than sorry?

[Hopefully Nate doesn't value his personal space too much, because Michael's just gonna get all up in his neck situation. Prodding at the wound site, trying to see if it's raised or swollen. It looks like it's healing, but Nate came to have it checked, so checked it will be.]

[He'll bring you a better surprise next time. Preferably not more recently-healed wounds, though.]

I got halfway through Dracula once but it's not exactly a reputable handbook on vampirism.

[He is reassured, at least, that Michael has experience in medicine to whatever extent. Honestly, he'd take a veterinarian if it was all they had. They can't afford to be picky out here.

Nate seats himself at the nearest table and lifts his chin for perusal. Thin claw marks rake along his skin, dipping past the collar of his shirt to his chest and across his forearms, defensive wounds while trying to keep it off of him.]

Didn't know you were a doctor.

I'm, uh, not a doctor. I'm an autopsy technician.

[Is that better or worse than veterinarian? It would probably be worse if he left in the "got kicked out of med school" part, but he's definitely not going to. It had nothing to do with his abilities anyway, so it is clearly not relevant or worth discussing.

Michael doesn't like, remove Nate's shirt or anything, because that would be too far, but he does pull it down to take a peek in there before moving on to his forearms.]

How log ago did all this happen?

Eh.

[Same thing, he thinks. They all undergo some extent of medical training, even if Michael exclusively works with the dead. Nate does too, after a fashion.

He rolls his sleeves up further, for Michael's perusal.]

Couple months ago. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time, so I went straight home instead of coming here. Figured it was safer getting my wife to check me out than risking...nobody being in the office, y'know?

[Michael snorts.]

In the moment is one thing, but leaving it for two months? [It's exactly what he'd do, but listen, he's in Doctor Mode now.]

Lucky for you, it doesn't look like it turned out badly this time. [He lets Nate have his arm back and straightens up.]

I don't see any signs of infection, and it's all pretty much closed up. And I mean, you seem to be alive, so... probably not a vampire. You still got like, a reflection and everything, I'm guessing.

[This is how vampires work right?]

It seemed fine!

[Nate protests, with the air of an adult man who probably still has to be reminded to get yearly physicals. Growing up in foreign countries with no health insurance has a way of instilling a certain self-reliance upon a person.

He lets Michael continue to prod and examine, swallowing future protests and promptly snorting at the last question.]

Uh...pretty sure, yeah?

[He doesn't look in mirrors too often, either. He just wakes up like this.]

Only pretty sure?

[Says the guy who also never looks in mirrors. Nor for any particular aversion, but just like, what's the point? Run a brush through it, it's fine.

Still, he has no greater wish in this moment than that he could somehow obtain some sort of funhouse mirror that would fake Nate out for a second.]

I mean there's a mirror in the bathroom if you need to check. As long as you haven't been turning into bats or growing a widow's peak though, you're probably in the clear.

[Is that racist, now that they have actual vampires? Speaking of which-]

What did they look like, anyway? I'm not gonna put up wanted posters, but I'd like to know who to watch out for.

I don't have a craving for blood, if that helps. Though I'd seriously kill for a pizza.

[What is he supposed to do, make cheese from milk they don't have? Make sauce from tomatoes they don't have? Make dough from yeast they don't- you get the idea.]

They were small. Short, I mean- like a teenager, with really pale skin. They freaking catapulted at me from across an alley.

Probably have to wait for another magical god-feast for that one.

[Michael will eat anything, but he can't say there aren't things he would do for a pizza.]

And avoid pale teenagers, got it. Was this at night? Gotta suck to be allergic to the sun in this place.

It was dusk-ish?

[Not the expected time he might anticipate a vampire attacking him, anyway, if he anticipated it at all. Nate always thought they were "pitch black of night" creatures.]

Sun was still technically up. We might be dealing with something that isn't affected. You got anything like that where you're from?

Maybe you were in shadow? I don't know if it's gotta be direct or not.

[Or maybe this is just one of those sparkling kinds. Like in those romance books that Michael doesn't care about.]

We don't actually have monsters in my world. [Which is still technically true, because he's never seen proof that the Visitor isn't a singular anomaly. Which would make it monster singular.] Not as far as I know, anyway.

[Nate hums noncommittally in response, similarly unsure as to whether he actually has monsters in his world, or if the abominations he's seen count as unprecedented mutations. Plenty of medieval texts talk about magic, but they also thought that trepanning was a means of releasing demons and not cranial pressure, so, you know.

Grain of salt, and all that. He starts rolling his sleeves down again, thoughtful, ready to change the subject.]

...is this room secure?

[The eyebrow that accompanies the question suggests that he is referring to threats of a non-vampiric variety.]

[He's thrown slightly by the subject change, but Michael figures it out in short order.]

You mean like, is it bugged? [He knows that's not what he means.]

If you need to talk about something private, we can move into the back. [And if the very few other clinic staff members happen to be in another room overhearing that, they'll probably assume it's about some kind of medical issue.]

[Nate actually snorts at the question, which is just casual enough to be funny while still be one-hundred percent serious. If the room really was bugged, they would sure as Hell look suspicious now.]

Yeah, that's fine.

[He waves a hand, still grinning.]

C'mon.

[Yeah, hopefully everyone thinks it's a joke. Everyone being the obvious spies who are listening in right now.

In any case, Michael takes Nate to the back of the clinic, to one of the more private exam rooms. They aren't used all that much, because, frankly, the clinic isn't all that equipped to deal with more sensitive issues anyway. But they're closed off from the main rooms, and that's what matters.]

Okay, unless someone's crouching outside the door with a glass to their ear, we should be good.

[Michael is either really new at this, or really inept at this - or both, but Nate isn't going to throw stones in this particular glass house because he can't criticize for a lack of surreptitiousness when his modus operandi usually involves breaking things.

Nate follows. As soon as the door shuts, he snorts.]

If somebody was listening, there are a lot better ways to do it.

[Trust him.]

We didn't get to properly meet at the thing. Thought I'd check in, since you seemed a little nervous there.

[It's both. Both for sure. He's definitely no stranger to hiding secrets, but those are secrets that only involve himself. Way easier. It's like the old adage: three can keep a secret if two of them are dead.]

I... probably seem a little nervous all the time, if I'm being honest. [Look, he Knows.] But yeah, there's a lot of uncertainty going on here. A lot of trust I'm not used to putting in other people. I kinda got the impression you felt the same way.

[Constantly nervous is a physical state that is abundantly apparent: Michael moves like he's waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop and instantly crush him.

Nate is sympathetic to a point - one of his best working partners has a hang-up like severe claustrophobia - but the job they're running here is delicate in ways that even he isn't fully equipped for. He's the contingency plan and knows it.]

I'm not used to putting that much trust in that many strangers. [He clarifies, with no intention of sounding callous.] In my old line of work, we'd call that a liability.

Honestly I think it's pretty safe to call it a liability now?

[Even he feels like there are too many people, even if that's partially his fault.]

I guess we can rely at least a little bit on the fact that most of us have people who would keep our secrets. Like, it's kind of inevitable that some of them are going to tell people, but probably people who care more about them than the gods? And I mean we can always... I don't know, keep certain plans from certain people, if we have to.

[Like how he told them not to tell him where Name was, because he knows he's bad at lying under pressure.]

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Checking for Rabies [Closed]

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