Work was long, Samuel had felt a tad tinge of anxiety at the idea of ghoulish ghouls wandering the halls of St. Mungos. He spent his days skurring between rooms, taking care of his patients and keeping his eyeballs peeled for anything suspicious.

This was an incredibly difficult task because there was so many magical maladies that looked a bit odd, and they all congregated at the magical hospital. Sam could keep himself from jumping at his appointments, but couldn't quell the impulse when he wasn't performing.

"Ligeia, you sure this is a good idea?" He followed Ligeia up the stairs, surprised that they were behaving. Looking over, the wix noticed another staff member sliding down, and he wondered what they'd done to the hospital. "At least it's not us this time." He nodded, touching the rim of his brown glasses.

Approaching the 2nd floor, he let a breath out. Nothing jumped out at them!

Sam opened the doors ahead of Ligeia, "Did you get permission to use the room?" he asked her. Looking around the floor, he noticed no one looked at, or reacted to the pair coming through the doors to a floor that they didn't work on. They must have been expected? "Lead the way, I'll be close behind." Sam lowered his voice, suspciously.

Growing anxiety, be it from the mysteries of the missing cadavers or the politics over the morgue watch positions, tended to have the opposite effect for Ligeia. She might even be more enthused about work in ways apparently unique to her disposition. Earlier, when Samuel had joined he'd been looking heavily stressed. "The suspense is terrible!" he'd said.

Ligeia replied "I hope it lasts." This was tension you could savor, unlike the blitz of pandemonium like her first student volunteering stent on Third Floor which had involved a terrorist attack and melting floors.

"You can't let the partially-known medical horrors keep you from trying your best. We're supposed to stem the tide of ills as healers." The passing colleague having the stairs slide out under them brought her pause in their shared labors. "The child patients might like a good sliding. Once that burn victim has their skin grow back."

It had been something of an up-and-down traversal, needing extra ingredients from the main apothecary and some minor business at reception, before continuing to Second Floor. Enough to require two carriers without either of them being overburdened. "The quarantine cells on this level have to be the best in the hospital. All the better for this phase of testing in case anything becomes catching, once I got clearance."

Full bias on display for her favorite project of late, the L.S.L. research. The initials minimized the amount of quibbles over the spelling. Such was why Ligeia insisted on calling the Licorice Snaps 'Liqourice Sharps' instead. More accurate advertising in her eyes. Seeing has only herself, very old healers and hags didn't balk at the notion of Leechsetting in casual conversation, it let another thorny subject be sidestepped until it was necessary.

Although jars of poison-screening or cure-applying 'candy leeches' tended to be extra squirmy compared to most bottled specimens at St. Mungo's. She let Chávez carry the more docile of the set. "I'm still holding out for a Lethifold being behind some of these strange occurrences. I've gotten Lethifold for a Cloak turned up in five of my last seven Terr-Oh! spreads."

"I was hoping to be assigned to Bugs & Diseases when I first volunteered after my 5th year. Didn't happen until after 6th." She didn't need an aura sensing spell to notice Sam's continued skittishness. "It's not like the staff on this floor are silent carriers for typhoid, dengue fever or spattergoit. Have you met Mr. Ó Briain yet? He was a rising star at St. Brigid's Contagious Maladies ward before transferring here. There's potential for L.S.L. assisting with administering cures for highly contagious diseases." She'd been eager to share research with Tadhg Ó Briain, learn about what diseases he was studying, get his opinions on the hospital troubles. Maybe there'd be time for another Terr-Oh! divination.

Which reminded her: "Hadn't you mentioned a strange rash not gotten from a plant?" she asked Samuel. "Or am I thinking of someone else?"

"I know that, Ligeia. I'm still coming into work..." He brushed her comment off, a bit put off at her insistence for adrenaline and danger. Sam would have preferred his day to go smoothly, without the threats of ghouls roaming the halls.

It still skivved Sam that Ligeia could speak so nonchalantly about the injuries on the floor from the mishap of magic. Some of the things coming into the Spell Damage floor were wild and crazy. Some of those things they couldn't completely repair. The difficult part of working medical was the loss of control, and it still bothered Sam.

Sam followed Ligeia's lead as they gathered the items they would need to carry on the experiment. She asked him to carry the docile specimen, but instead he used magic to float the carrier ahead of him. Small light blue sparks coming off the floating charm, his magic's signature. "You sure you don't want me to get yours?" As long as the carrier was close enough to them, he could push it ahead of himself. It was less work then carrying the bags manually.

"Lethifold for a Cloak? Five out of Seven? Isn't that bad luck? Do you think there's going to be something wrong with the experiement you're about to do on me?" His face paled at the thought of getting swallowed up by an overlarge licorice snap monster. His imagination taking him to left field. "Is he coming down to help us?" Sam asked, his voice now cracking and his hands completly clammy.

"Nah, that wasn't me." Thankfully. "Did you clean out the room we're going to, or we cleaning it a bit before we get started today?" Sam asked.

Ligeia’s bedside manner, truly her overall approach to the healing profession, was born of a redemptive attitude towards the worst magic had to offer. A very gothic romance, tinged with what some might consider the wrong time to be smiling wistfully about various maladies. Such was what happens if one accidentally drank Scouring Solution. Hint: you’d be lucky to speak normally afterwards. If anything, those patients she wasn’t immediately friendly with were highly motivated not to come across the pale witch again. Probably improving their health, or life choices, in the meantime as they avoided the quaking gaze of her irises.

To which there wasn’t anything in particular Ligeia could about her nystagmus that didn’t already fit her remedies living with albinism, having affirmed her demeanor long ago. So being one that didn’t flinch away from a particularly nasty diagnosis, sometimes that helped to see the person beyond a temporary or permanent affliction.

Or, as it usually read at surface level, various creepy segues in normal conversation. “Thank you, Samuel, but I’ve got a good handle on this. Most of the jars are shatterproof…” She ran through her checklist before pausing as they approached the quarantine cells. “Oh! Almost forgot my parasol. Can’t be too careful these days.”

She performed a summons with her wand. “Well, it’s all symbolic if it isn’t an actual lethifold,” she explained her Terr-Oh! results. “It could be anything from a bad thrift shop purchase to an imminent, intimate terror. As if the answer to everything might be creeping up in our shadows.”

Cue pause to contemplate her shadow. She held out her hand as her parasol caught up to the pair, hooking it over her elbow. “You’d be the first to have highly catastrophic results from these early trials should that occur.” Although given Ligeia’s definitions of ‘catastrophic’ that probably wasn’t comforting. “Given the high state of alert in the hospital it was fitting to be extra cautious.”

Such as why Ligeia started bringing her ebony shafted parasol to work these past few weeks. One normally used on hunting trips, as it was a weaponized model, but more importantly it had much stronger built-in defensive enchantments.

“Someone else’s rash, then,” she said as she freed a hand to open the door to the quarantine annex. “You know, it’s been awhile since I took part in the protocols for a major contagion. I’m sure everything’s been cleaned already.” Or they would be using the Scouring Solution and waiting ten minutes. She led the way into the secluded section of the wards. “Hello? Dear Mr. Ó Briain?”

"Well, I hope it's not too catastrophic!" Sam remedied his harmed ego, "After the wringing from Athena Marrowbones in February, I'm not sure I want to be found anywhere near the first floor again."[1] He sighed, "A broken item in a thrift shop would be preferable to another injury." He thought about his left wrist, scars from the vampire bite faded but still there. "But I think you know what you're doing; hopefully I'll be fine." Shaking his head back and forth, he looked ahead toward the room they were approaching.

Sam swished his wand down so the cart floating next to him landed in front of him. Absently, he pointed it towards the door and it swung open on it's own. Another charm and the cart was back to floating in front of him and he pushed it ahead to the door. "Is he here?" Samuel asked, not hearing anything from the other wix he presumed would be in the room.

The room they went into wasn't as cleaned as he'd expected based on the feedback he received from Ligeia. "Seems like they've skipped this one. We're pretty deep in the ward. What was the room used for last, did you check?" His eyes adjusted to the lack of light in the room, and he flicked the light switch next to the door. With the light on, he stood corrected: the room seemed cleaned, but there was a foul stench that he couldn't put his finger on.

A smell so rancid, Samuel couldn't help himself. He began gagging as his senses finally connected with his mind. "Ligeia, what is that? He exclaimed.

1.	Feb 24: You Silly Stupid Wizard

"Perhaps your next rotation to First Floor shall be more tranquil," Ligeia offered. She grasped all cross-training rotations at the hospital she could fulfill as she worked on her forensic credentials. "I've only heard some of what all was involved. If you had any questions on feedings over dinner you only needed to ask. I've got stories in my travel album."

The lack of Ó Briain wasn't of immediate concern although it was unusual to say the least. "I thought it was cell #4B on the request form. He might have been hailed to an emergency case." The mystery of the last use of this quarrantine cell and a colleague missing the rendezvous were soon overwhelmed by a particularly pungent, rotting scent. Ligeia had caught a whiff as Samuel fumbled for the lights.

Her eyes blinked in the adjusted light as Ligeia began controlled breathing through her mouth. "A decay like that suggests," she held her closed parasol across her fellow Healer's upper torso, to block him from stepping in further. All notions of magical disease primers and leechsetting with liqourice forgotten with the horrendous discovery. "Please set the jars outside, Samuel. We shalt not want to contaminate the scene further."

Besides her flared nostrils addressing the stench, Ligeia performed a brief Aura Sensing spell, although the echoes did not convey all that she hoped. She only sensed Chávez's squeamish fright; anything outside the cell walls was greatly muted. "Pity. With the quarantine cells more heavily warded, that will restrict some types of detection spells."

She crouched, leaning on the parasol as she took a lower viewpoint. "What sorts of forensic magic are you familiar with, Samuel?" Quizzing him sometimes helped him focus, whether or not it provided suitable distraction in this moment.

(Content Waring: gruesome remains)
There was a strange scuff mark on the floor leading under the bed. Kneeling, Ligeia gently prodded aside the bed sheet. Below, there was a severed forearm. The hand was locked in rigor, as if to crawl away or claw at something. Two of the fingers looked to be bitten off. One was stripped down to the bone. There were several other lacerations along the length of the arm, so injured and spoiling it was hard to gauge the skin's original color.

Samuel blinked, surprised. He didn't think he mentioned getting bit by a vampire to Ligeia. The whole experience had been very embarrassing for him and the subsequent hospital visit did nothing to make him glad for the experience. "...I'll keep that in mind." He stated before the door opened.

Stopped by the parasol, Sam abruptly stopped. His eyes watering from the stench of decay. Sam did as instructed and piled Ligeia's jars on top of his cart and moved the cart outside of the room.

Forensics' wasn't an area that he was really familiar with. "Well..." He started, gaining some bearing on himself, "There's the spell you always use, Aura Perciperium. I guess Legilimency can be viewed as another." Samuel went on and on with the little facts he could recall. The distraction was working, enough-so that he could peer into the room and watched as Ligeia investigated the room. "W-What do you see?" He finally asked.

“Did you have a notebook on that cart, perchance?” Ligeia only had a small dossier of notes pertaining to the now set aside experiment. “Of the two backup quills I keep the Verbatis Quill is a bit dodgy, and the other is quite unsuitable.”

“Aural and mental forensics are useful although likely not today,” Ligeia said. “If you happened to know Homenum Revelio you could give it a try, although with the way the cells are warded it may not reveal much.”

She twisted around on her hips towards Samuel, finding the enchanted quill as she gave it a flick towards him with her wand. “It shall record our words verbatim as this is about to get messy.” She tried to grin at him. Better to just rip this bandage off as she levitated the arm out from under the bed. “Healers P.E. Ligeia Canterbury, Third Floor, & Samuel Chávez, Fourth Floor, at the scene of Second Floor quarantine cell #4B. One severed, looks to be partially digested left arm with numerous lacerations. We are searching for any other remains or evidence of what occurred…”

TW: GORE

Getting his barring together after his pronounced gagging, Sam was able to cast a simple smell-nullifying spell underneath his nose. It didn't completely rid the of the thick pungent odor, but provided a short reprieve of menthol that weakened the dastardly scent. At least he could stand to be in the room, now.

"I do." Samuel grabbed the notebook off the cart and opened it to a blank page. He handed the notepad to her and stood back, and out of her way.

"I'll continue looking..." He looked around a counter and found a puddle of what looked like acidic blood. Following the puddle in the right-most corner of the room, he opened a disturbed drawer with his wand. "AHH!" What Sam wasn't expecting was a more-complete body-slurry soup. Someone or something must have intended on coming back to eat this meal!

It reminded him of a liquid slurry! Similar to how spiders digested their meals? The drawer was jammed shut quicker then one could say, "YUM"

Shocked, Sam looked up, stone-faced and pale as a ghost at his friend. The color draining from his face.

The black ostrich-plumed quill set about on Sam's spare notebook. As the namesake suggested it transcribed every word or sound spoken upon activation. She'd rather over-document the scene for her notes, you never knew what might be important later.

"Don't worry too much about being recorded for the transcript," Ligeia said as she noted some measurements. She was looking for other clues from where the arm had been under the cot when Chávez yelled. The Quill made what could be taken for a loud flourish.

"What did you find?" Ligeia asked as she got to her feet. She couldn't remember a time she had seen Chávez so blanche. In the moment her transparency potion, by way of making the drinker as see-thru as a ghost, would have worked marvelously for him. She curbed her style of humor so it didn't enter the record.

A little of the liquid, juices(?) dribbled from the drawer that had been slammed by the younger healer in his search. "Something more than partially digested?" She gestured back towards the cell's bed. "There's a stain under the mattress, it might be more blood. Would you want to swap positions? Or step outside if you need it?" She didn't picture Chávez involved in many gruesome cases.

tw: Description of gruesome remains

Falling back from pushing the drawer abruptly shut, Sam landed on his butt. Sam's eyes teared up from the sloshy mess in the drawer. He wasn't crying, but catching the wiff of the dead body overpowered his senses. He turned away from the closed drawer and gagged, dry heaving a few times before he could stop himself. Sam had seen dead bodies before, but he'd never smelled something so rancid.

"Y-Yeah." He finally answered, standing up and scurrying towards Ligeia, holding tight on her arm. "I could see some undigested bones in the s-slop. What I presume was the skin, and muscles...it was all melted!" Sam exclaimed. He'd never seen anything like this in reality.

At least with a dead body, it still resembled the shape of a human. The slop, well he could only guess it was a wix's based on the shapes of the bones he recognized. "I-I'll trade places with you." He stated. Rattled, Sam didn't let go of Ligeia's arm, despite affirming he wanted to trade places with her.

"Oh."

The Verbatis Quill had only the two letters to write once it got back around to Ligeia's part of the conversation. What the Quill couldn't record was the various emotions layered under her dulled exclamation. What small smile she had kept shrunk to the small pursing of her lips, as if trying to tie them together. What usually made her excited about investigating crime scenes was tempered by the stench of that particular method of decay being more than even she anticipated, as more wafted out when Chávez gagged at the sight of the stewy remains. She turned her head briefly, dabbing water out of her eyes.

"Hmm..." she kept her voice level as the Quill affected her fellow healer's stuttering with a staccato tapping. "That might suggest a ghoul behind our curious cadaver caper." Over a month of St. Mungo's keeping alert for missing bodies, when accounting to what lead up to Healer-in-Charge Storm's staff bulletin. "A nasty one, I've only read accounts. Acromantula also let their prey dissolve but not to this degree."

She caught her footing as Chávez grabbed her arm. She was sympathetic to his fears, letting him keep his grip. She gave his wrist a tender pat. "I might have half a Pastille in my bag if you're feeling sick. The cure end from a Skiving Snackbox can work in a pinch for the authentic malady."

She turned him towards the other side of the cell, glancing back towards the lurid dribble from the drawer.

Samuel didn't notice that the rancid smell was strong enough that it's putrid scent had caused Ligeia's eyes to water. Opening the drawer seemed to unlock a new level of decay, and he swore the scent stuck to his clothes, perhaps his whole essence. He thought there was a potential for him to pass out from the gasses emitted from the ooze, though that could also be a very real anxious rumination. This was beyond anything he'd imagined he'd be confronted with while working in the magical hospital.

"A-A-A-A G-GHOUL?" His voice cracked at the suggestion. Samuel had done so much to avoid the potential of being in a presence of a ghoul! He'd heard about the stolen bodies and kept his eyes peeled to avoid anything more abnormal then normal. There was that rumor the bodies couldn't be found because of how the ghouls consumed their victim's bodies. They could confirm it now?

His grip on Ligeia tightened while she speculated about the nature of their find. She was good at being so nonchalant, while he was the complete opposite. "That's a good idea." He let his grip go, and inched towards her bag to take out the Pastille. "Which pocket is it in?"

Shite, the smell was going to travel if they didn't contain it. Before heading back to the cart where Ligeia's bag was left at, he took out his wand to close up the air-vent in the room. A small rustling sound of something was heard from the vent, pitter-patters and then silence. The sound didn't last long, but it still caused a shiver to run down Samuel's neck. "The Pastille? Where is it again?" He asked, moving away from the closed vent in the room and towards the exit.

“It’s a distinct possibility,” Ligeia said of the prospect of the ghoul. “We’ll have to see if anyone else as found evidence of such. I’m not completely sure, I’ve only seen the sorts of ghouls that rattle pipes.”

Samuel’s grip on her arm had become vice-tight. Not that Ligeia minded, she might’ve cracked a joke about their intimacy but this wasn’t the place for it. But being anchored by Samuel was halting their capacity to investigate.

“Chávez,” she said gently, although he left her side in that moment as he looked for the Puking Pastilles. “Second from the front. I suppose the last prospect to rule out if this is from an advanced Organ Liquieification curse. I’ll see if that can be detected.”

TW: Gore
Getting her vials and wand at the ready, Ligeia gripped the knob of the drawer. She opened it carefully to avoid disturbing the slurry. The sight and smell of the spoils was so strong she took a moment to turn her head, eyes closed. Bracing herself, she began muttering the identification spell, ultimately missing the rattling from the vents.

“Taking sample,” she noted for the Quill, although the use of magic did not go as expected for the collection. The remains were liquid, yet far more viscous than expected. In levitating the vial out of the drawer, Ligeia witnessed the stewed organs congeal and then pull apart like a jelly, still clinging to the vial. Almost to the tip of her wand. ~Schlorp!~

“In-n-conclusive,” Ligeia gaged, shutting the drawer.

End TW

“You want the orange ones, not the green-purple ones, second pocket,” Ligeia told Samuel as she stoppered the vial. It would have to be cleaned on the outside. She felt her own humors go out of sorts with rising bile. “*ugh* Pass me one,” she turned towards the cell door.

Ghouls that rattled pipes? Sam rummaged through Ligeia's bag, where he found the different flavored Pastilles. He kept his eyes away as Ligeia began extracting samples of the soils for further testing. Sam's curiosity got the best of him, and he turned in time to see the congealed liquid sticking together as her magic shoved the viscous sample into the vial. There was a pop from the air releasing as Ligeia separated her wand from the tip of her wand, and Sam held onto his stomach. Forgetting what he was doing, his hand gripped on a portion of her bag, and he paled as though he'd seen the afterlife. 

Normally a steward of proper language, Sam let out a long drawn out "ffffuuuuucccckkk". His eyes were watering from the smell, and his nose stung. Closing the vent only cloistered the smell in the room. 

"Close the, close the drawer!" He snapped, finally remembering to pick out a few of the Pastilles. He tossed Ligeia an orange one from across the room, not daring to get closer to the opened drawer. Taking a second one, Sam unwrapped and popped it in his mouth. 

What he wasn't expecting was his upset stomach lurching, causing him to spit out the Pastille. "W-What now?" He asked, trying a second time to eat the Pastille. Second time, they said, would work like a charm.