The Verbatis Quill looped through a drawn out record of Chávez cursing, then moved back to cross all the F’s. In the meantime Ligeia barely kept her composure to store the samples. While Ligeia had means of compensating for her hand/eye coordination, the throw from the other healer caught her by surprise. It bounced off her hand before she could grasp it, then a series of patting herself to catch the sweet from rolling down into her healer’s robes.

“If you think we’ve found everything, urgh,” her nostrils flared, distracted by rummaging for the lost pastille. “Samuel, please catch my full attention before throwing things towards me in future. My casual wear outside of work involves more layers when dressing.” He was lucky for not being told off had the Pastille fallen down one of her corsets or hooped skirts, which would have required undressing.

Finally, Ligeia unbent from an unusual contortion with a sigh, grasping the wrapped sweet. “If you think we’ve found everything, we should enact the decontamination protocols. Rather, find someone else on the floor so we can call this in.” She caught sight of his struggles chewing the signature sweet from the Weasley’s Skiving Snackboxes. “Are you remembering to pull off only the cure end, orange? The purple half will just make you more sick.”

"I'm not sure we found ever-everything." Sam croaked. Honestly, why would he want to keep rummaging through the room? Was investigating the crime scene part of their job now? At least they found some of the distinct remains of a victim, right? Right? 

Sam wasn't sure. He hadn't looked at the remains in the drawer long enough to verify it as human remains. However, the body stuck in rigor mortis with the finger's chomped off suggested they did eat wix. It was a morbid thought, knowing that they could become a victim at any time. Or an innocent sick wix, waiting to be cared for....or perhaps the ghoul's only targeted the existing death? Sam's anxious thoughts swirled in his brain, preoccupied by the nasty smell and present danger. 

"Oh, shite." He squeaked, "No wonder it tasted bad." He grimaced. The cure-end of the Pastille had a citrus-ginger flavoring, filling his nose with the scent of something delicious. It settled his grumbling stomach, and the nausea began dissipating. "Do you know who's on the floor right now?" Could they ask Healer Hollingbury or Sawbones? He wasn't sure St. James was on shift this day.

The exertion, both from the gruesome cataloging efforts and have to twist over to catch the wayward sweet was living the albino healer rather pink. The blood was quite visible in her face as Ligeia steadied her breathing. "It's a start, it'll require a few more wix to process."

To date, the worse sort of crime scene Ligeia had ever helped investigate, given the horrifying spoils of the human remains. After a short time to collect herself she could steel her resolve. Doubtful that Chávez would want to find himself in another situation like this with chewed corpses & lurid liquids.

This certainly wasn't a smell Ligeia would be keeping in her home laboratory's scent collection!

"It's only ever a quick fix, these Skivving Snackboxes," Ligeia tried to turn her lips upright into a smile. "And the cure ends only get you so far, until some real medicine. I remember when there was a rash of students overdosing on these once professors started to catch wise."

She opened her parasol enough to detach her hand fan. Black lace with thorny accents. Ligeia had a similar model of thought to Samuel's, unknowingly. "Healer Hastings has been on the floor for decades, it's easy to find her.[1] We should hail the Healer-in-Charge. Perchance Healer-in-Charge Marrowbone is on shift. Creature Induced Injuries is right below us, which could confirm what caused all this."

Ligeia fanned faster. "And whatever became of Dear Mr. Ó Briain? I hope he didn't wind up attacked or anything." She glanced at the notes at work above the haphazard collection of items on the cart. "I feel as if I should apologize to you Samuel, for how nothing went how we expected."

1.	NPC from past member. No character listed for Head of Bugs & Diseases. For the sake of plot Athena makes the most sense to contact.

Sam managed a smile, despite his reservations, "Yeah, I'm aware." Though he didn't remember the incident that Ligeia referred to. The Pastille melted in his mouth and coated it. He could still smell the remains of the wix, but between his scent neutralizer he'd cast and the Pastille, it was at a manageable level. "Thanks for bringing them along." It was as though Ligeia could see into the future, or she just liked sweets. Patients sometimes enjoyed a sweet to curb off the difficulty of seeing an injured loved one. Regardless of the reasoning, the act was kind.

"We have your sample that we can bring to Healer Marrowbones. Maybe Deputy St. James is on shift? The body would have come from the Morgue, right?" He grimaced, who would want to seriously work with the deceased? Sam was having a harder time keeping it together.

His nose wrinkled, and he nudged his glasses as he normally did. "No worr-worr-worries." The Pastille was starting to lose it's strength, and he reached for a second one he'd taken, biting the orange end off it and moving it to over to his cheek so he could talk. Thankfully, he was quick enough to plop the treat in and could suppress his gag reflex. This time he wouldn't chew on it to make it last longer.

"Let's get out of here." Before leaving he double checked the vents to make sure they were closed shut and nothing could get into the room.

"They make luncheons more exciting," Ligeia said of Skivving Snackboxes. "When I'm on break or the quick fix as you can see."

Her fanning slowed in thought. "Dear Deputy St. James should be notified, smart thinking Samuel." The hospital had not only the corpse mystery but the office politics of Quincy St. James calling out her supervisor. Who needed the intrigue of novels like Lover's Moon during days such as these? "Yet another question to how this entity is sneaking around, yet somehow able to utilize the isolation of some of these quarantine cells."

"Healers Chávez and Canterbury leaving the scene. End of transcript." She moved to deactivate the Verbatis Quill. Another rare grimace passed along her flushed face as she finished packing up. "Oh dear, I've just remembered we were having stew tonight for supper. Maybe I'll ask for something more palatable, like nettle salad."

Sam held back a laugh, not wanting to choke on his Pastille that hung out in his cheek. "How can you think about dinner right now?" He rolled his eyes, and wrinkled his nose, lifting up the cart mid-air again. He floated the experimental jars that Ligeia had brought in herself onto the cart with the other nouns while she went to gather up the quill and parchment.

"The room's secure now, I'll head to the morgue. Did you want to come? Or you headed to give the sample to someone?" He wanted to clarify what Ligeia's plan was. "I think I've lost my appetite if I"m honest."

"Just that, I didn't want to remember how supper was," she gesticulated with her hand back towards the sealed cell in no particular manner. "Like. That."

She gathered up the samples and the transcript. "If you're informing Deputy St. James you can hail me if needed." Ligeia normally enjoyed her corpse studies with the morgue crew but for once in her life, she'd seen enough unusually decayed remains for the day. "I'll get our reports out. Our Heads of Floors should be notified," a pause upon contemplating the mounting stakes with the latest crisis St. Mungo's was facing.

"All of the Heads, up to Dear Deputy Misslethorpe if not Head Storm. Dear Mr. Hollingbury might be the best suited for unraveling this." She indicated the primary sample. 'Liquid remains' did not immediately shriek out an obvious specialty among the hospital arrangement but the methods used by Potion & Plant Poisonings would be the easiest to adapt.

The initial vials would get them so far on the investigation. It was worse than a collection of mismatched body parts. A 'meat puzzle' if you will, because while gruesome you could reasonably try to identify the remains to match the missing bodies.

The slurry, however, was all of that blended together with an uncertain number of potential victims.

Ligeia was sticking to that nettle salad for supper.