Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => St. Mungo's => London => First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries => Topic started by: Robin Louvelle on March 27, 2022, 12:39:38 PM
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Emergency Ward, 0100 hours.
He was in the middle of the late shift, signing off on a prescription for painkiller potions when his badge went off.
"Trouble calls..." Robin winked at the mediwitch across the counter as he handed her over the slip. She accepted this with a wry smile, and off he went down the passage straight for the emergency ward. The night had otherwise been slow. He was in the right mind space to work, though he looked forward to crashing at the end of it.
"Off! O-off me!" a wizard shrieked.
Most of the beds in the ward were empty and it was easy peasy to spot the trouble; a pair of mediwizards struggling to secure a frantic patient into his bed. He was with them in a lick, wand drawn - but they had already used charms to bind the man's arms and legs down.
"Jesus that's a helluva bite," Robin muttered as he lit the tip of his wand and drew the light just over the shoulder area. "Vampire."
Patient was a young guy, stocky build in little more than his boxer shorts and a white t-shirt. The blood was stark, the vamp had done more than suck - it had taken a chunk out of him. Irregular. Did it panic? Was this malicious?
Above the messy wound, the man's face was rabid - he was convulsing intermittently, eyes rolled back in his head, lips blue, screaming at them to get off.
"Blood potions, I'm going to close this up," Robin spoke up without looking away, the gears turning in his head. "I think this guy might be allergic."
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Tall Athena Marrowbone could cover a distance quickly, and she did so, striding long, her open healer's robes flapping behind her. She was the hands-on head of the Creature Injuries and available this Monday night - night shifts got the best cases she'd always noted darkly.
"Now then, who's the menu?" she called out as she approached the melee.
"Cassius Rooksby, wizard, twenty-two. Vampire bite."
The latter was plain enough. Athena came around to the otherside of the bed to assist in keeping Mr. Rooksby from hurting himself. The new healer Louvelle was already on damage control and diagnosing an allergy. If so, Mr. Rooksby was in dire straights. Athena handed over what he'd asked for, blood potions.
Athena raised her voice to be heard by the hysterical young man.
"Ey, Mr. Rooksby I need you to settle down, sir! You're in good hands now, but if you don't let us help, you'll be dead as a doornail."
No one loved having to hold down someone who didn't want to, but he was going to lose his head with that mauling flailing everywhere.
"Bit by a dog, Mr. Rooksby?" she tried. Sometimes saying something so daftly wrong was enough for someone to take a breath and correct her. Worked this time. Cassius turned to her with wild eyes, barely focusing on her. To his blurry vision, her gold hair backlit, she might've looked like an angel.
"Sodding vampire!" he spat out, befuddled.
His calm didn't last long though. He was wracked again by a violent, back-arching spasm.
Once it passed, Athena pressed down on his good shoulder. "Vampire, ah, that explains it, Mr. Rooksby. Lie down, sir. Louvelle's going to stop you dying and then we'll charm thee nice and sleepy, understand?"
To Louvelle, she smiled. "Evening, Rob. We've got a rotten one, tonight. What a mess."
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Robin glanced up a second, just long enough to nod a greeting at the Healer-in-Charge. He smiled a little to himself as she started quizzing Rooksby - Marrowbone had a smoother bedside manner, and something to emulate in the future.
When you spend most of your life patching up foolhardy beast handlers in the middle of nowhere, you forget little things like that. Oh, civilisation.
"Bit by a dog, Mr. Rooksby?"
"Sodding vampire!"
He barked out a laugh as he closed up the wound. Arteries patched up and flesh swimming over blood and pulse, not quite filling in the lump of it that had been so unceremoniously ripped out by their absent vampire friend. Robin briskly pulled his wand away just as the next spasm took hold.
"Rotten's right," he muttered with a rueful grimace at Athena, and uncorked a blood potion. "But I've cleaned it out, he shouldn't have more than few shakes left in him. It's the saliva, right?"
Like a mosquito, he thought distractedly, leaning over Rooksby and slipping a hand behind the man's head with surprising gentleness. "Just a couple of gulps fella..." Robin intoned while he administered the potion. "Right, dreamland for you in a sec. Think happy, unfanged thoughts."
He straightened and handed the empty bottle over to Mediwitch. "You want to play Sandman?" Robin looked to Athena, eyebrows raised. "I'll get the stuff for the allergy test."
The best thing about working in hospitals instead of clinics was that they always had everything you needed. In a pinch, though, he would have bet a few galleons on Brooksby being definitely allergic.
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Rob Louvelle had been a no-brainer hire with the kind of experience that Athena was biased towards. He did his work quickly leaving Athena to get Cassius a little bit of peace.
"Aye, thanks," she agreed and took a flexible grip on her oak wand. She wouldn't charm him out cold; all he needed was a bit of dreamy twilight. "Somniquillitas," she incanted and a pinky haze settled into the patients chest. The young fellow took a deep breath then seemed to almost melt into the bed, his eyes rolled back sleepily, and a tentatively happy grin spread over his face. His arm lolled off the bed. Athena returned it to him, laying it across his chest.
With a little Occlumency, Athena checked in on his noggin - all was dopey, all was calm now. Good.
"There we go, nice job," she said giving his hand a pat. "That's better. Have a rest and then we'll owl someone for you."
A nurse followed behind with a warm blanket for the pants'd patient. Athena moved away from the bed to intercept Louvelle on his way back.
It wasn't their job at St. Mungo's to investigate attacks, not farther than what they needed to treat the wounded. The reporting that the Ministry required did not extend to vampire bites, though St. Mungo's voluntarily provided general monthly numbers. It didn't stop Athena from being curious.
"How do you reckon he got caught in that state of dress?" she asked Louvelle. "Looks like he got surprised in his bed, if I didn't know that vampires can't enter without an invitation."
The undress certainly didn't track with having a visit to a coven. It looked like a botched attack, reminders of the deaths over the winter.
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He wasn't yet used to having so many helping hands, and smiled gratefully at the wizard at the supplies cabinet as he handed Robin what they would need for the allergy test - as well as the stuff for the other blood test. A cursed bite by a vampire always seemed more dramatic than any other bite; even a werewolf bite.
One day he would die like any other wix, within a single lifetime. Eternity did not appeal to him.
Hands laden, he crossed the ward back to the bed and nodded at Athan as she joined him. "I think that's a myth, isn't it?" Robin raised his eyebrows, unsure himself. "But if I had to guess, I'd say they were in bed together."
The tall wizard set down the little blood-drawing knife, and the two pairs of elixirs and bowls. Rooksby slept on - looked upon by mediwitches with more tenderness than some mothers offered their kids.
"Paints a picture, if he's allergic.." he glanced from patient to colleague, smile a touch playful. "They decide to try something new, doesn't go the way the vamp knows it's supposed to. They panic, maybe they take out a chunk of him without meaning to."
People, beings, they all could panic if they were doing something they weren't meant to be doing. Robin handed the knife to Athena and picked up one of the elixirs himself, to prep the test.
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"No, is it?" Athena's surprise was unveiled, pulling back, furrowing her brows and looking suddenly puzzled. It was a funny thing to have missed, being top of Creature Injuries. "I must be watching too many muggle films. Och."
Athena wasn't the kind to be embarrassed, and was only amused at herself.
She joined Rob bedside with the patient to assist. She was there to help out as much as for the gab and gossip. Rackharrow's Ritual was hundreds of years old - as tested as could be. His theory was modern - a human and a vampire having a consensual lay - for their profession, but with the evidence they had, not improbable.
"Imagine that," she replied, "that's a story for Witch Weekly, poor lad. Cross as he seemed about it, still. Now I wonder if his bedmate's out on the pavement pacing. How'd he come in?"
"Stumbled in himself," replied a mediwix. "Though in that state, I can't see him having Apparated himself."
"Got his wand with him or no?"
The mediwix checked with someone else. "Naught but his skivvies."
Athena raised her eyes to Rob. Quite the mystery.
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He laughed good-naturedly at Athena's mention of muggle films - the vampires in those moving pictures held a charm that real ones did not. The charm of distance: they weren't real, they couldn't really hurt you.
"Naught but his skivvies."
The hell was a skivvie? Robin assumed it was a reference to Rooksby's state of undress. He uncorked the bottle of an orange amber potion as he glanced at the witch, mirroring her raised eyebrows when their gazes met. No wand. Maybe he'd left it behind when his vampiric partner brought him here. Or maybe the being had stolen the damn thing.
Robin decanted some potion into the glass and alabaster bowl on the bedside table. "None of our business I guess," he corked the bottle, sighing. "There a lot of vamps in London? Big community?"
His experience with vampire attacks were not unsubstantial but they were committed by different vampires. Robin assumed city vampires were less aggressive, in their organised covens and living inside an already secret society.
"I've dealt with the victims of vagrants," he explained while he watched Athena draw blood for the ritual. "Lot of handlers working night hours, running into exiled vampires or travellers."
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Their twilight-sleepy patient made no reaction to Athena's little poke in his finger. The dagger drew up all the blood it needed. She handed it over to Rob.
"Aye, we've got a handful active covens in London." Athena's department received occasional updates from the Ministry about vampire activity, but it was fairly bare-bones.
"General idea is that they police their own these days. Was worse in the 80s.[1] I reckon they decided it's easier for them to be pals with the Ministry. 'Pals,' well..." Athena hemmed on the characterization indicating that it was probably more neutral than that. "Problems seem to come from non-members. Had a Muggle found drained dry over Christmas.[2] I was the coroner for that - evidence of hesitation at the bite as well. Could have been a new vampire."[3]
Naturally, Athena had no way of knowing the doer on Christmas was Cass Motley who'd, after the fact, joined in with London's most prominent coven, the Camden Town Hookers.[4]
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It fascinated him a little to imagine another world of vampires inside their own world of wixes. Robin watched Athena draw blood, nodding as she explained that their vampire problems largely stemmed from those who didn't belong to covens - not too dissimilar to the attacks he noted back in the states, then.
Funny how a state of not-belonging could lead to violence. He thought a moment about isolated werewolves.
"Outright drained a muggle?" he repeated, drawn back to the matter at hand. "That's gutsy. Though," Robin let Rooksby's blood drip into the alabaster bowl as he spoke, "no survivor means no witness. Not that senseless."
He watched the liquid in the bowl, patient, and handed the blade back to his colleague. "Looks like our friend is safe." Robin's smile was dry. "No immortality today," he glanced up at Athena with a wink. "Do you think you'd fare alright, as a vampire? Feel like I'd go nuts before the next century."
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"Aye," Athena had confirmed at the conclusion of the ritual which marked Cassius's fate as green and good. The nurses would know what to do now and when the patient came around. There were educational pamphlets among other amenities, detailing resources for bite victims. Whatever had happened to Cassius wasn't over, and he'd be smart to report the attack, but he was going to walk away, live long enough to get his trousers back.
Their job wrapped, Athena began to move away from the bed as she answered Robin.
"All that time without sun, I'd go transparent," Athena said with a big smile. "Gleaming in the moonlight, dead giveaway. Seen coming. I'd starve."
The implication that she'd fall to hunting poor souls rather than keeping to the sterile bloodbanks. The conversation, of course, held no stake at all. What she said here was not binding. The fates would not hold her to any daring hypotheticals.
"There's cake on the second floor," said a mediwitch helpfully nearby, having caught only part of the conversation.
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He quickly scribbled a few notes on Rooksby's notes before leaving the clipboard with the attending Mediwitch - they're have to schedule in an allergy test to confirm Robin's suspicions but the real urgent work was resolved for now.
Slipping his hands into the pockets of his robes, he laughed at Athena's tongue-in-cheek answer. "You know, I think it would suit you regardless," he replied with a mock look of appraisal. Robin was pretty tall but he hadn't come across many witches as tall as Marrowbone; something about height in a woman, it exuded regality.
And vampires were really good at that kind of thing.
"There's cake on the second floor," someone informed them, having overheard only part of the exchange.
Robin glanced from the Mediwitch to Athena, eyebrows raised. "Cake? While the lull lasts?"
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The forthright friendliness, oh, Athena knew he'd get on well here at St. Mungo's if people could believe he wasn't after something extra. She agreed swiftly to sneak in a quick bite and gab up upstairs, and the pair of giants that they were, made their way to the stairs.
But they didn't get far. A corporeal patronus (a bird maybe) whipped past Athena and Robin followed closely by a madly fluttering letter. The man at the desk stood up to try and catch them both at once.
"Dementor attack in Devon. Two wix, two children. Apparating in. Get Sawbones," came a woman's voice from the patronus. The letter that followed must have had more of the same.
Athena chilled. Of all the horrible things they dealt with in Creature Injuries, she dreaded Dementor attacks the most. There was so little that could be done. There were no bones to mend nor bleeding to staunch. There were only trance-like, vacant stupors and violent casting about. It was despair made flesh, all goodness stolen away. They made Athena doubt the existence of a creator, why such a being could possibly exist, what kind of balance they could possibly serve.
"Athena?" the witch at the desk prompted, getting to her feet.
"Who was that?" Athena asked at the evaporating patronus.
"Riza. Izzard. She's in Ottery St. Catchpole this week."
"Right. Call in Hedge as well. Fuck. How much have you done with Dementors?" Athena ended up back at Robin again. She was already re-rolling her sleeves.
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The moment he thinks he can catch a bite with gorgeous Bones, a patronus intervenes. Figures.
Robin felt the mood turn, and his own countenance grew grim. It didn't matter what corner of the world you sprang from - nobody liked a Dementor. They seemed to exist as an anti to everything real and essential to actually living: a manifestation of that thing all Healers supposedly battle, a cessation of being.
That the patronus requested Athena specifically meant she was adept. Good.
"Fuck. How much have you done with Dementors?"
"Fuck is right," he muttered, reaching back to ensure his hair was properly secured. "I've treated exposure plenty but not a lot of, uh, interactions. And never..." Robin gestured in a fluster as he followed his colleague down the passage back to the emergency wards, "never children."
His mind was buzzing with worry at the thought. Kids made for difficult patients even on a good day. "My hands are your hands," he informed Athena, surrendering himself to her direction.