High Heels And Broken Streets

[butterfly_kiss]

WHO: Tae Takemi, You?
WHERE: Hospital, Hotel, Whale Comb Sent Her
WHAT: Hospital Evaluations, Residence Consideration, Replicator Poking
WHEN: February 20th-25th
WARNINGS: None

I. A New Workplace | Temba Hospital

The map had led her here, across the snowy city, out in the cold in only a short dress, a leather coat, and high heeled platform shoes. Really, Tae was not often the sort to regret her fashion choices, but as she entered the hospital, shivering, she was already mentally aching for any of her pairs of leggings to help. And socks. Oh her kingdom for socks.

For now, though, she walked slowly through the hospital the map on the communicator had led her to. Even now she had it in hand, taking notes.

"Could use a couch for the waiting room. Chairs are too uncomfortable."

Then she moved down the hall and through a door, inspecting an actual exam room. This earned some nods and more notes. And, with time, she entered something that made her pause, lowering her communicator, to stare.

"Well well, somehow I wasn't expecting a proper lab in a place like this," she said, and yes, she was almost cooing as she looked at some of the machines in here. "It's almost like someone was preparing for me."

II. Temporary Residence | Temba Hotel

"These stairs are ridiculous," Tae grumbled as she made her way carefully up the stairs from the lobby of the hotel. "Who lived in this place, seven foot tall people? Ridiculous."

Even with her heels these stairs were definitely going to work out her legs some. That was, in its own way, a good thing. Tae had always been proud of her legs, but even this was ridiculous.

"And there's not even a subway to get around. How can people even consider this as a reasonable city for a supposedly advanced species?"

III. What's This Do? | Whale Comb Sent Her

Research was important in a situation like this, and Tae had done her research. She'd gone back through the social network here, something like a forum system she thought. Which didn't matter so much as learning the important thing which was that there was supposedly a device that could be used to synthesize other devices. It was that knowledge that brought Tae here today.

And of course she hadn't tried to interact with the machine yet, paused as she was in looking at the way it appeared.

"Seems like someone is stuck in victorian era sci-fi styles. I wasn't expecting a steam-punk horror here."

Comments

[the_freak]

Her annoyance is enough to keep Eddie sitting in place, fidgeting a little but more or less behaved for the moment.

He doesn't press his luck by adding more details, just nodding despite her lack of belief.

"Twoooo-ish weeks ago?" Eddie estimates.

[butterfly_kiss]

Good boy, sitting and staying like a good little pup, if a rowdy one. Still, she doesn't look pleased with that news as she rebinds his arm.

"I'll see about making a salve to help with the bruising. The bites, well, that's going to be mostly your body itself. I can't do grafts here."

[the_freak]

At least he can guess she's a legit doctor by now with how she wraps that arm, and not just some random lady who apparently speaks with enough authority to get him to strip down without question.

"Yeah, it's looking like it's going to be a pretty gnarly bunch of scars, huh?" Eddie muses, trying to make light with a smirk as he watches her.

[butterfly_kiss]

She ignores his comment about the scars too. Men, such children about such things. They don't make people look cool in her opinion.

"Note to self," she says, mostly so the comm will record it for her, "invest in rolling chairs and stools for clinical work. Set up outpatient care for our bitten hound here."

[the_freak]

Her lack of reaction earns a pout. Eddie lives for the spectacle, he's never quite sure how to combat those who refuse to acknowledge him.

"You must be known for your bedside manner, huh Doc," he teases, before blinking in surprise at her choice of words. Hound was a new one.

[butterfly_kiss]

Really? She offers him a smile, saccharine and so obviously fake.

"Back home, I was called the Plague. It was for my charm."

[the_freak]

He grins, catching his tongue between his teeth and looks genuinely amused.

"That is metal as hell," he praises.

[butterfly_kiss]

Seriously? That eagerness didn't impress her at all. It was for something else entirely, but this boy seemed a bit too excited by it. Interesting, and she supposed not relevant as she started to remove the bandages from his torso.

"Punk as hell," she corrects, because metal is not her jam. "And you're far too easily impressed."

[the_freak]

He shifts a bit, wincing and definitely using the conversation to distract himself.

"Eh, punk's all right," he acknowledges, high praise coming from Eddie, who's not regularly willing to admit to the positives of any genre outside of metal, but the two have a pretty close history and sound.

"And hey, I appreciate the mild attempt of creativity on their part. I mean, I got stuck with the Freak since middle school. I'd kill for something a little more inventive."

He glances down at his chest and frowns. "Fuckers messed up my tattoos," he laments absently, brushing over the marred skin.

[butterfly_kiss]

Punk was better than metal, because punk was about healing as much as it was about non-conformity and self-acceptance, and of course the music. So yes, she definitely thought it was better.

"Yes, because looking like a reject from some 80s hair metal band you probably watched on tv is so creative," she counters as she continues her work. "And when it heals, I'm sure someone can help you with that again. Have you been tested for Hep A, B, and other blood-borne illnesses since you got the ink?"

[the_freak]

"Woooah, hey, hey- first off, the fuck is hair metal?" he starts with an incredulous look, fully missing the '80s' drop to continue- "And second- I'm not some fucking reject. I play. Our band plays at the Hideout on Tuesdays, to just...wild acclaim, so- yeah," he adds. What is she going to fact check? He can embellish a little bit. The five drunks the place usually got didn't complain.

It takes a moment to come back down, redirect that heated energy, and his answer comes out a little bit sullen as an after effect. "Uh...no?" he laughs, like that much should be obvious from looking at him. He got the ink from 'some guy' in the kitchen of his trailer. He wasn't exactly thinking about his health.

[butterfly_kiss]

What is hair metal? She can't believed he's saying that. She gestures to his hair.

"Big hair, metal music. It's a further subset of glam rock, which was a type of most often metal. Think Def Leppard, Twisted Sister, Whitesnake, Guns N' Roses, Bon Jovi, Kiss, Van Halen."

Not all of them were fully hair metal, but they were definitely glam, and the kid was going for the look.

"And 'Hideout' sounds like a bar name. People that play bars once a week haven't made 'wild acclaim'."

Sorry Eddie, Tae's bullshit meter is pretty high for people lying flat out to her face that she doesn't see as authorities over her. And even those people she doesn't buy all the lies of, just the ones that hurt the most.

"Seems like we're going to need to do some blood work too. I'll have to check the samples by hand, so the results will be delayed."

[the_freak]

Okay...he knows most of those names. Which only adds to his confusion about subsets, but the expression is at least softened some by her naming off some metal bands.

"Yeah, okay. So it's more like very moderate to non-existent acclaim," he admits with a shrug, and he follows it with a soft smile, "It's comin'. We'll make it big, we got time."

He doesn't protest the bloodwork, but he looks a little anxious about it. "It's uh...safe, right?" he asks awkwardly, thinking to the recent cases of infection during blood transfusion and wrong conflating the two, hoping she understands his meaning.

[butterfly_kiss]

With the damage to his body, she wonders about that. But hey, she'd get him patched up so he could go home whole.

Of course then she was looking at him offended before tapping where a tattoo was under a bandage.

"These tattoos were likely less safe than what I'll so. My needles will be sterilized."

[the_freak]

Whole would be nice.

Eddie ducks his head with a grin, and quirks his head faintly in acknowledgement. He didn't always make the best choices.

"Appreciate it, Doc."

[butterfly_kiss]

Yeah, she could tell.

"Don't worry," she says with a sigh. "You're clearly a bit silly, hound, but I'm still your doctor."

She finishes wrapping around his torso and she gentle pats where she anchored it.

"No more smoking."

[the_freak]

Eddie pulls at his hair and hides a grin behind it with eyes that say that's not a promise he can make.

"Not in the hospital," he compromises.

[butterfly_kiss]

"You're worse than an old man," she says, heavy disappointment in her voice. What a young fool. "You'll need to understand something. I have none of the medicine that will help when you ruin your lungs. I can't help you when it starts to sap your energy, or your lungs rot."

[the_freak]

He puts on a soft little pout at that, ever the dramatic. It's good she doesn't know any of the other crap he puts in his body. Still, that possible future seems far too unlikely and far off for Eddie to take it seriously.

"I'll get a few more miles out of them," he assures.

[butterfly_kiss]

As if she wasn't used to that sort of look from patients. Even cuter ones than him too. She reached over to tap the comm to stop recording.

"You'll get a lot more miles if you're not an idiot about it."

[the_freak]

"Eh...I come from a loooong line of idiots," Eddie laments with a laugh, like it's an inescapable fate.

[butterfly_kiss]

"I can tell," she noted as she rose and pocketed her comm. "You're going to be a pain in my ass, aren't you?"

[the_freak]

"Oh, the biggest," Eddie agrees with a fond look. It's something he's heard again and again, but at least the Doc had a nicer delivery than some.

[butterfly_kiss]

"Don't see that as a personal goal," she told him as she put away the remainder of the tools she'd used to wrap him up.

"You're doing fine for now. I see no reason to keep you in observation unless you've got things wrong you weren't telling me about. Return in two days for me to check those again."

[the_freak]

Things wrong he's not telling about? Only about a thousand things spring to mind, first and foremost what if those fuckers really do have so sort of extra-dimensional rabies like Buckley wouldn't shut up about when Harrington lost his pound of flesh to the things.

But he can't begin to explain that any of that, so he gives an easy nod, shrugging his shirt back on.

"Guess we don't have a drugstore in this place, huh?" he notes regretfully, "No point in asking for a prescription to take with me."