Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => St. Mungo's => London => First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries => Topic started by: Iona 'Bruce' Ballentyne on April 19, 2019, 10:51:46 AM
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Iona Ballentyne absolutely loathed hospitals. Years ago, they’d been where her team mates would end up when things went wrong. She’d spent almost 2 months in St Mungo’s, and for months after that, had experienced far too regular check-ups. The only saving grace that St Mungo’s held for Bruce was the healer that had followed her since the ambush to the present day.
Athena Marrowbone was not your usual stuffy cold fish healer with cold hands and a lack of social skills. The witch actually cared, and that had made Bruce warm to her very quickly. going through something so life changing had been made marginally less horrific when guided by someone with a smile and an encouraging push. Every check-up since then had been with Marrowbone, and Bruce had always been grateful for the familiarity of seeing the same person.
Knowing who she was going to see, however, did nothing to take the edge of Bruce’s fidgety anxiety as she stood in the cubicle waiting for her healer. She was going to be asked about the previous full moon a week ago, to which she’d reply how it was nothing. But it was always something. It was always agonising during and after. Her leg always felt as if had been clawed apart again. As with every full moon, she’d spent the following day in bed resisting the urge to down a gallon of pain potion and wipe herself out.
When the curtain was pulled open, Marrowbone found the former werewolf hunter stood against the foot of the bed, twisting her wedding ring absentmindedly. Her wooden cane was resting against the cupboard to the side.
She looked up from the ring and smiled. It was a strained smile, the smile that came from someone who, as previously mentioned, detested hospitals.
“Don’t panic, nothing’s happened. I’m just ready to join the real world again.” The dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment. “I need your signature, please.”
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Panic? Athena had never panicked in her life. She's splinched her arm clear off when she was a girl and she'd kept her head on the whole time. She hadn't panicked the first time she met Bruce Ballentyne either. Even with her leg rent to ribbons as it was, with her mates carrying on, with the apprentice booting in the bin, Athena didn't fret, she fixed. As well as she could.
"Ey up, lovely! Sit down, sit down, let us see."
She was talking about Bruce's leg, of course, no a piece of parchment.
Healer Marrowbone sat down on a wheeled stool and rolled up her sleeves. Even seated, Athena seemed to tower over her favorite patient. Even as Healer-in-Charge of the floor, Athena always had time for Ballentyne. Not only because Athena adored her, but Athena was always keen to see how her handiwork was lasting.
She had a look at the parchment. It was from the Ministry of Magic, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It had very tiny lettering but Athena recognized the form. She looked up at Bruce with a massive smile.
"You madwitch, my god. Madder yet, if you think I'm signing anything without a proper look."
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Athena Marrowbone was a tall witch. A six-foot giant with the build of an athlete and an aura that exuded confidence. Bruce had never considered herself all that small, but when she found herself stood face to face with the healer, she felt diminutive. Perhaps her own physical disability didn’t help with such an emotion, she used to be like an athlete in peak condition. Now, she was the 43-year-old cripple with a walking stick. Obediently, Bruce manoeuvred around the bed and had to lift herself up slightly to sit down. Her feet didn’t quite touch the ground, boots just dangling there freely.
She handed over the parchment and watched as the grin formed on Marrowbone’s face. Bruce’s own grin came at the comment of ‘Madwitch’. She let out a laugh and shook her head; red curls bouncing excitedly. She was mad. She’d needed to be mad to work for the Werewolf Capture Unit for 22 years. She agreed that she was mad to plan on returning.
“Then have a look.” Bruce waved at the document she’d handed over. “Just a quick paw print to say that I’m fit enough to spend the rest of my life shackled to a desk.” She smirked and rose her eyebrow at Marrowbone, “Unless my healer suddenly finds a cure for a leg that looks like undigested dragon food. I would like that very much.”
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The two witches chatted a bit as Healer Marrowbone made magic work of getting Bruce's trouser leg out of the way to reveal the appendage in question. To most eyes it was a horrific sight, every red-stained gash or puckered scar screamed a scary story of werewolves in the night. The werewolf had nearly taken the entire thing as Bruce's comrades tried to drag her to safety. She was lucky in many ways, but in all the ways she wasn't, that was were Athena came in.
"I dropped that bloke, did I tell you? The Ballycastle keeper." she said. Her hands and wand worked over the leg with gentle but firm ministrations. She poked and evaluated the scars, moved around Bruce's knee and ankle, keeping an eye on her face for any sign she'd caused any discomfort. Her wand was likewise occupied. The Healer was using it to search for congestion of humors or traces of the curse still rotting in the joint.
"He's still finding himself and I got well tired of looking for him," she laughed. "Lad was barely thirty, why do I bother. Need a proper adult this time, hold me to it, sweetheart. Alright, not too gnarly. Let's see you walk."
Athena slid back on her stool and crossed her arms, giving Bruce space to get down off the table and hobble around a bit.
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There’d been a time, for most of her life in fact, that Bruce Ballentyne had lived in shorts. She’d never been a vain person, far too interested in what she could do than what she looked like. She had, however, known that she’d look good. She’d been fit, fast, strong. She’d had good legs. Now, in the present day, she hid them. Khaki shorts had been abandoned for baggy trousers and her confidence exchanged for frustration. Now, the joint was gnarly and unpleasant to look at.
Over the past few years, Bruce had begrudgingly become accustomed to the sight. She’d spent a long time in the early days examining her scars and lines in detail. But unlike some scars that people enjoyed showing off and telling stories about, these were not to be celebrated for stories, even if they meant she was still alive. They also meant that she’d become a monster.
While Marrowbone did her thing, the choice of topic was very welcome. Her healer of three and a half years led an interesting life outside of St Mungo’s. A life that Bruce got a monthly update on when she came in for a check-up and review. It so seemed, or rather, was evidenced, that anything with a beating heart and at least half human came up on her radar. Usually, however, she went for the semi-famous ones that were going to end terribly and only serve to provide another story. While her leg was being twisted, poked and manipulated, Bruce was only too happy to listen to the next chapter in the love affairs of Athena Marrowbone.
“Clearly not a keeper, then.” She couldn’t resist the terrible joke that accompanied a lopsided smile as she carefully swung her legs around to sit up. “Good job he’s not a seeker if he can’t even find himself.” The second terrible joke came as she jumped from the table and her left knee almost buckled at the sudden impact. Bruce gripped the bars on the side of her bed, grimacing.
“My new boss is single, you know.” On her feet now, Bruce took a couple of tentative uneven steps towards the curtains. “Divorced, according to Witch Weekly. Older too. He knows..ugh” she paused, feeling pain shoot up her limb, “he knows how to handle a beast, you’d like that.” She turned and winked. Strong hands. Was that what a woman looked for in a man?
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Athena crowed with laughter. Bruce could always get her going, terrible puns or jibes delivered dry like good wine. "I'm bringing thee to my next break-up. Maybe there'd be less blubbering if we were all having a laugh."
Probably not. She'd tried to be nice, but she just couldn't stand insecurity. A little bit of ambition wouldn't go unwelcome in a lover. But Bruce was on her feet, clearly eager to show off at how she launched herself to the floor.
"Carter? Aye, he's a lad, isn't he." Athena couldn't say she hadn't looked. She also saw Bruce hitch.
"Oh, I saw that, lovely. Still getting that bite. Using the dragon's balm? I'm telling you, take the nip right out of that. You get it down Sellaphix's right? They deliver."
She said this all in a pleasant sort of sing-song, not a chiding Healer's lecture. Bruce would do exactly as she pleased and Athena would do the same. Even as she spoke she summoned a tub of the power stuff to her hand.
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That was a horrifying thought, even if a joke! As a witch fresh out of Hogwarts, she hadn’t wanted to be part of her own break ups, let alone become part of someone else’s! Not that Bruce had even had many. She’d seen a couple of witches before meeting her wife, but she’d been 19 when she met Zora, so Bruce literally had no dating experience. When she heard the stories from people like Marrowbone and others she’d known or worked with, she was eternally grateful for that.
Now, Bruce knew where she could get Dragon’s Balm. That didn’t mean that she wanted to stock up on it. She pulled a face, stopping still now with her arms folded. “It makes my leg smell like a curry.” Taking a small breath in with the lid off the pot was enough to make her eyes water. The thought of smearing it all over her offending limb was acutely objectionable. No thank you. “Would you want to walk around smelling like a chicken jalfrezi?”
“I stick it on after a transformation and my daughter starts asking me if we’re having naan bread with our takeaway.” She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Terrible thing is, I’m not even joking.”
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"I want you to walk around at all, no matter what you smell like," Athena retorted and slid over to have access to Bruce's leg.
"Phoo!" She opened the jar and used a tongue depressor to spread a dollop just under the knee. The smell was as promised - eye-watering and spicy. But it was powerful stuff that acted quickly and lasted for hours. "There you go, now let me see again."
She closed up the balm and walked her fingers in the air. If Bruce wanted to be back at work, Athena wanted to get some idea of how Iona would 'stand up' to hours on her feet. She didn't imagine her patient would tolerate anything less than her best, and Healer Marrowbone would do what she could to make that happen.
"Planning to get in the field again, then," Athena asked. "Used to that cane yet?"
The questions just kept on coming, and Athena with her keen eyes wasn't missing much.
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As promised, the balm stunk of spices, but Iona didn’t choose to fight what was happened whether she liked it or not. She would always admit that it was good stuff. It was powerful and she felt the effects almost immediately, but the smell was, to begin with, overpowering. Once the balm had soaked in, it vanished. If Iona were being one hundred percent honest, she hated using anything to ease the pain, it meant to her that she needed help and she didn’t want help. It was ridiculous. She knew it. She’d been told it enough. But the whole werewolf can’t walk thing was enough without the added extra of becoming reliant on balms and potions to cope was too much.
“No.” Bruce shook her head. “I’m a liability in the field now. Just the dreaded desk.” She’d finally faced up to her limits and was no longer aiming for anything more. As instructed, she crossed the small room, feet landing carefully on the stone floor. She could walk better than a year ago, that was noticeable. But her leg was weak, and straining the muscle was grossly uncomfortable. In an attempt to not demonstrate that to her healer, the witch bit the inside of her cheek and powered through until she returned to the bed and transferred her weight to her right leg.
“Cane’s fine. I’d like one that zaps anyone that invades my personal space. A nice jelly leg jinx that will have people falling at my feet.” Deciding that she was more than done walking, Iona crossed her arms and waved a hand at the form lying on the side next to Marrowbone. “Anyway, sign that and then I have an offer for you, Athena.” She flashed her healer a grin. "Offer only comes with an all clear."
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Athena reached out into Bruce's mind and gathered up the gentle impression of stubbornness and concealed pain. Athena's Legilimancy was broad strokes and potent points of light, flashes of things, but it told the tale. Bruce was trying to hide something. Athena watched and kept on smiling as Bruce returned to base and laughed in all the right places. Bruce was never dull. And never subtle.
"Ooh, bribery," Athena said cheerfully. "I love it."
She ignored the form and wheeled back over and tested the action in Bruce's knee again.
"You're better. Better than last time. Been taking good care of my little baby, much appreciated. I worked so hard on it and I'd have a good cry if you went and fouled it up. Fouled it up by not telling me where it's biting thee. I'm a Healer, or did you hear? I'm very good, at that."
But Athena didn't harass her more. Bruce was going to be fine. Could've gone back to work months ago if she'd had a mind to. But she didn't and Athena supported that.
"So what's this offer?" She slide the form over and attached it to her clipboard.
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Sat back on the raised bed, Bruce shrugged as Athena chose to berate her slightly for not speaking up about the pain.
“It’s just a bit sore, is all.” The welsh witch muttered. “Like always.” She refused to take potions for the pain on a regular basis. One could get addicted to potions and she was never going to become that person.
Fortunately, the reprimand was short and quickly finished with, and Marrowbone was looking over the form.
“Well,” Bruce, happy to be talking about something that wasn’t how crap her leg was, sat up a little straighter, and her expression visibly brightened. “I’m the new head of the Werewolf Wing, when you scrawl you name on that there parchment,” she gave her a pointed look before continuing. “I have allowance to take on a field healer for the full moons. It would be a long shift. About 30 hours, but you’re hardy. I’ll explain why 30 hours if you take my offer. Think of the fun you’ll have. The danger, the thrill, the chance to work with Kurby Bagnold!” Athena had had that privilege before. “The honour of working with me! You’ve always wanted more of my company. It’s why I’m here so often.” Totally had nothing to do with the injuries…
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Athena laughed her approval and tapped her heels on the floor. She was thrilled, just thrilled. It was a massive promotion for Bruce, a banging come-back from the terrible time she'd had, the long recovery, the struggles. This was is it. This was what the blood and the gore and the scars were all for. She could have hugged her.
She wiped her pen across the parchment, got up from the stool, and tossed the clipboard onto the bed next to Bruce.
"Careful now, don't want to oversell it, your highness. You'll make me think there's a downside."
The examination was over. Job offer or not, promotion or not, there wasn't anything magical, medical or otherwise that was stopping the healer's all-clear. The offer though - field healing on full moons. It was big. She laced her fingers behind her head and considered it, her eyes dancing as she watched Bruce. She scoffed a little. Kurby. Perhaps unlike Bruce, Athena had plenty of reason to run into Bagnold and his people over the last couple years. And unlike Bruce, Athena didn't have that same baggage. Oh, maybe a handbag, but not the full set.
"So what. I tag along with a gurney and a mop? Things getting that bad?"
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Bruce couldn’t help but smile when her healer scrawled a signature on the parchment, confirming that after over three years, she would be finally returning to work. It was a massive step in a long recovery; a step that she’d needed to take some time soon before she went crazy. There was only so much reading and home decoration one could do before they lost it. Bruce had gone past her tolerance years ago.
Athena considered the job offer, and Bruce snatched up the clipboard, freed the form from it, and shoved it in the pocket of her baggy green jacket.
“No mop. You’ll be one step above mopping.” The welsh witch confirmed with a smirk. Athena Marrowbone was far beyond mopping. She’d been the healer to save Bruce, to save her leg. Without the skills and expertise of her favourite healer, Iona was quite certain she’d be dead now or, at least, with only one leg. she may now have been totally recovered, but she was certainly the best that she could have been considering the injuries she’d come in with that night.
“But yeah, things are getting bad.” Her tone was now serious and she brushed some curly hair back from her face before pulling out her wand. The wand tip was pointed at her bared leg, and the beige material of her combat trousers knitted itself back together over the heavily scarred limb. “Come see me at the Ministry next week and I’ll talk you through the details.”
The former werewolf hunter hopped down off the bed, landing on her good leg. She snatched up her cane and frowned.
“And there’s always a downside to that work, Athena. You could wind up looking like me.”
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Athena was biting her lip, running all the maths and magicks of what field-healing for the Werewolf Wing would be like. Minutes mattered with werewolf bites as well all the other things that could go wrong out there under full moons. Bruce wouldn't have asked if she didn't see it as a serious need; Athena knew as well as the Werewolf Wing what the last two full moons had been like. The Healer-in-Charge Marrowbone had been working those shifts anyway - that would be the only sticking point, letting go of the floor for that span of time. It was something to consider, the good healing work that could be done, what lives could be saved if they only had those few extra minutes.
She'd have to run it by Storm, and Bruce hadn't even started at the Ministry yet so there was bound to be red tape. They still had a few weeks to get it all sorted in time for January's Wolf Moon.
Athena clicked her tongue, found her feet and stood up. "I'll be there. Now you've done it."
"You could wind up looking like me."
With a grand gesture, Athena swept back the curtain.
"Two of you? There's not enough magic in the world to handle that much sexy."
Fin