A Visit From The Doctor

[Sepsis]

-The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--



Doc *Enters the Prosthetic shop. Strolls slowly about.*

Sepsis*hears the beeping of the security sensor, and hurries from the back room, closing the door carefully behind her* ~Why good evening, Sir. How are you on this fine evening? *smiles broadly*

Doc*Doc eyes the person with a raised left eyebrow. He allowed his gaze to drift slowly over them, before dryly reply, "I am far better than the poor ******** who purcharsed his prosthetic limb from." He smiled coolly for a brief moment before it died quick death.

Sepsis*her smile falters a moment at the mans words, but immediately slams back into place* I only sell the finest quality, hand crafted prosthetics here, Sir. Nothing but the best for my clientelle. Was there somthing I could assist you with? *she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, and smoothed the front of her dress*

Doc "Thank you for offering. You see.. one of your 'clientelle' came to see me. He has a pressure sore cause by an ill-fitting prosthetic limb. In addition, the poor son of a ***** is diabetic. I am sure you understand the issue of wound/stub care for a diabetic. And since my time, is not cheap.. and the wound was created by your product, I will be sending you a bill. Unless you have an alternate suggestion?"

Sepsis *she bit her tongue as her temper flared for a moment.* -Ill fitting my ***- *she thought to herself. But what to do. She clasped her hands in front of her, rocking once again on her feet. ~I am sorry to hear this, Sir. *she replied in her most business like voice* ~But, there is a strict policy in regards to refunds. Without seeing the actual replacement limb, and speaking to the client about how they are using this medical device, I cannot offer a refund. Would you like to schedule an appointment for your...*she paused for a moment, unsure as to how to refer to the man's mysterious unhappy comrade ~Friend? *she continued*

Doc "No. I will let him sue you. Which is what he wanted to do before, but, I thought I would offer an olive branch. However, seeing as that has been flung to way side.." a sly smile, "I will let him follow up with you Ms..?" He let the question wander off on it own.

Sepsis*her eyebrows furrowed briefly at the mention of a potential lawsuit, but she refused to be bullied. Who was this man to assume she would just hand over whatever he wanted? She was beginning to question the legitamcy of his claim, maybe he was just wanting to take her dollies. And she couldn't have that. ~I am sorry, Sir. But if your friend wishes to persue legal action, I will of course be contacting my lawyer. And you may call me Miss Dalos. *she watched the man carefully now, her hair set on edge.

Doc "Not my friend. My patient, Miss Dalos. I am presuming you know how a pressure sore is created? And that when fitting a diabetic, who tend to be notorious for have neuropathy, with a prosthetic, you cant just do one or two fittings. Bad circulation, causes the patient not feel any discomfort, wears the prosthetic too long.. and then.. well its too late. Pressure sore exists. He wont be able wear it until the sore heals. And in Diabetics.. that could be ******* months. So Ms. Dalos, the question becomes who does your fittings?"

Sepsis *her polite expression quickly slid from her face, and she felt herself tensing slightly* ~I'm sorry, Sir...but I didn't quite catch you name? *her head tilted slightly, and she appraised the man quietly, wondering if he always had such a pleasant demeanor.

Doc"Dr. Charles Nilson, Genesis Laboratory and Harper Rock Hospital."

Sepsis~Well, Dr. Nilson, that would be our offsite pyhsician, Dr Meadows out of Dravenblack Falls, he comes in Tuesdays, and Thurdays...would you like to leave your contact information? *she had no idea where the lie had sprung from, but it rolled off her tongue so easily. If she had to, she decided, she could always hack some doctors computer for his porn stash, and bribe him to play the part.* ~You could have spoken to him if you arrived just a bit earlier~ -There, take that!- *she thought to herself*

Doc Doc dispassionately withdrew a business card from the inside of his jacket's breast pocket. It was grasped between his index and middle finger and held out to her. "Your 'doctor' doesn't have priviledges at the hospitals here. I am well acquainted with those who have priviledges. It would behoove you Ms. Dalos, and I am sure your attorney would agree, that having a reputable doctor doing your fittings would be ideal." He would have Dr. Porter, his sire's thrall check out this Dr. Meadows. "I will have to submit this to the licensure board, you do realize. And that could be bad press for you."

Sepsis *her brows furrowed more as the man spoke, and she reached out to take his card. Hospital privileges? Her dollies didn't need hospital privileges, they were perfect as they were. ~Bad press is certainly not what a new business needs Dr. Nilson. No, indeed not. *she debated, wondering how she would resolve this situation before it got out of control. The last thing she needed was a bunch of nosey doctors breathing down her neck. Shaking her head slightly, she forced the smile back on to her lips. ~I trust you have the information that you require now? I was just about to close shop for the evening... *she trailed off, searching the man for a sign of what he was thinking*

Doc "No. Not at all.. but if you are closing.. we can table this discussion for another time.. when perhaps Dr. Meadows is here." A coolly polite smile. "Do give me a call when he is available. Otherwise I will have to hunt.." a pause "you down.. "

Sepsis *she refrained from stepping back away from the man, but only just* ~Until we meet again Dr. Nilson. *nodding politely to the man, she waited for him to leave so that she could lock the door, and go clear her mind by spending some quality time with her dollies.*

[Sepsis]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--



Doc‎ *sits outside the shop, in shadows, watching*

Sepsis*The pyress paced about her office, watching the clock anxiously. She wanted nothing more that to get out of her shoppe as soon as possible this evening. She had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, and knew nothing good would come on this evening. She didn't trust that doctor, and the more thought she put into his visit earlier in the week, the more uneasy she felt.*

Doc Doc waited until the area had cleared out. He coalesced back into being and stepped out of the shadows, and moved to stand in front of the Prosthetic shop. He glanced around before he pushed open the door and entered the establishment. He wandered about the store.

Sepsis She cursed quietly to herself as she heard the beep of the shoppe door. It was just her luck that just when she was ready to sneak out, another customer would have to show up. She paced a bit more, trying to calm herself before she went to try and hurry out whomever had just came in. She thought about the dollies she had moved to a safer place the night before, but cursed at herself at the same time. She hadn't yet had a chance to mop the room up properly, and was worried she wouldn't be able to get everything cleaned up before it had a chance to stain the leather. Taking one last deep breath, she forced a pleasant smile on her face, and opened her office door to step out into the showroom.

Doc The store was empty, and the propriotoress wasn't around. He slipped back into realm of shadows as the office door opened. He slid easily through the shadows to the other side of the store where the office and the storeroom were located. He held his ground where he was. He wanted to watch her. See what she did. What 'tells' she gave away.

SepsisSepsis looked about, scanning the showroom, and felt her forced smile slip from her face. No one. She looked towards the door, furrowing her brows. Maybe someone had just opened the door, but not come in? Looking about again, she stalked towards the door, snapping the lock into place. Pressing a few buttons to set the alarm, she allowed herself a sigh of momentary relief. She could not be so careless as to leave any of her work behind, and like it or not, she was going to go clean up after her dollies. She dimmed the lights, flicking on the closed sign as she did, and walked across the showroom to a non-descript door marked 'Employees Only' Pressing the door lock code in, she pushed the door open, and shoved a wooden wedge under it to prop it open so she could hear inside the store while she cleaned.

Doc Doc slid into the Employees Only area as she opened the door. He allowed himself to drift about and peruse at his leisure. The room was your basic storage room, though the organization leeft something to be desired. There didn't appear to have the typical medical supply set up that most DME's used. This was more like a 'mom and pop' medical supply store. They didn't carry everything.. only the items that they knew they could sell and make a profit on it. And.. prosthetics. On the face of the prosthetics, they were made with qualtiy materials with excellent craftmanship. But their fittings.. that was grade school at best. As he perused, he ended up by yet another door. He wasn't a ******* Shadow for nothing, unsing his gift of uninvited guest he easily went past that barrier. And there, was the holy grail of the prosthetic world. The key to her success, the key to the lifelike workmanship. He would recognized a dried pool of blood anywhere. He smiled.

Sepsis Sepsis paused a moment, and wiped her brow as she knelt beside the white leather dental chair. It was difficult to keep the blood from staining the material too much, but there was just something about the contrast that infinitely pleased her. Her eyes gazed over to a small cage to the head of the chair, and pursed her lips unhappily. She did not like moving her dollies when her work was not finished after all. Leaning forward to pick up the very real finger that her dolly had donated earlier, she stood, and walked over to a large work table, her tools laid out meticulously. Pushing a bone saw out of the way, Sepsis rested the finger carefully beside the hand the finger had once been attached to. Reaching for a scalpel, she paused, and half looked behind her, tilting her head, straining to hear anything amiss. Unable to shake the ever growing restless feeling, her brows furrowed, and she turned her head, focusing once again on the treasure in her hand.

Doc Then she came further into the room. He stilled, as he watched her. She picked up the severed phalange. From his vantage point he could not see if she had properly disengaged the appendage at teh proximal plalanx joint or if she jsut cut it. He was loath to move closer, for fear he would give himself away to soon. But as the moments ticked by he carefully, silently moved forward, until he was just out of reach of her. She was so intent on her work, and yet she was wary. He could not resist the urge, and softly blew so that the air would just waft past her ear.

[Doc]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Sepsis: Sepsis turned the hand over, resting it once more on the work table in front of her. Picking up her scalpel again, she straightened the forefinger, cutting the skin carefully, and working her way to the the bone. She wanted to get exactly between the tiny bones, so that the finger would remain wholly intact when the cast was made. She had learned through many error, that simply hacking it off did no good. She did miss the satisfying snip a digit made when a food pair of tin snips was employed with a bit of force. She could almost forget about the Doctor. Then, without warning, she felt something blow past her ear. Spinning with vampiric speed, she was instantly on alert, ready to impose her full wrath upon any who dared impede upon her work.

Her eyes scanned the room, and found...absolutely nothing. Furrowing her eyes in confusion, she walked quickly to the door she had left open to the show room. Still..nothing. "Meow". Sepsis looked to her feet and saw the small kitten, Samantha, that she had recently decided to keep. Sepsis pursed her lips, positive something was amiss. "Meow" Samantha mewed louder this time, rubbing around her legs as she did. "What is it kitty cat?" she asked the tiny kitten, never expecting an actual reply. To her surprise however, the cat walked towards her workroom, pausing to look back at her, as if to say 'follow me'. naturally, she did. Sepsis watched with curiosity at the small kitten padded over close to the workbench, and sat, looking up as though she could see something. Sepsis's eyes darted over to scan the area again, wondering if some spirit was watching her, choosing to remain unseen as they sometimes did. Nothing. "Meow" Samantha called out, louder than before. Sepsis backed up, slowly, until she reached her tool rack, and picked up a large cleaver, never taking her eyes off the spot Samantha stared at as she did. "Who's here?" she called out loudly. "Show yourself now, before I decide not to be so ******* polite"

Doc: The kitten lifted its chin and a paw and started to paw at the shadow he hid in. It began to purr as it stared up at him. Foiled by a kitten. The irony, of it. He coalesced out of the shadows, standing in front of the workbench. He bent down and picked up the wee kitten and cradled it. He smiled at Sepsis, “Hello again.” Then he looked at the kitten that he held almost lovingly, and spoke as though talking to the kitten, but the words were for Sepsis. “Did you know kitty.. there is no Dr. Meadows. There never was. Sepsis has been naughty, hasn’t she? Lying to me.. lying the poor innocent cattle of Harper Rock. What should we do about that .. do you think?”

Knowing eyes now pinned their gaze on the cleaver wielding Sepsis. He sat the kitten down on the bench and moved to peruse the room once more. This time stopping every so often to pick up and admire, or too tut over the quality of the tools. Her workmanship was good, very good. But the state of her tools and their condition, left a lot to be desired. He eyed the rack of scalpels. Then gave her a look, “The blades on these, are long since past when they should have been replaced. I can tell by looking, because I have had years of practice, but it is easy to tell when you need a new one. If you cannot make a three centimeter nick to the skin without the skin pulling.. you need a new blade. You make think it wasteful. Save the old blades for necropsy, where it doesn’t matter.”

Sepsis: Sepsis felt as though she had jumped out of her skin as the Doctor materialized. He was one of those. Those who could hide in shadows and never be seen. She had never acquired the skill herself, and cursed as they were beyond her abilities to see. She tensed as he reached to pick up Samantha, strangely more worried about the kitten than herself. He spoke, looking at her with knowing eyes, but she remained silent for the moment, clenching the cleaver in her hand. She watched as Doctor Nilson walked about her workroom, picking up a blade here, a forceps there. She could have sworn she had seen a fleeting glimpse of admiration several times. Then, he spoke again, chastising her for the quality and care of her blades. Sepsis paused, momentarily unsure if she had heard him correctly. His expression said she had. Sepsis stepped closer to the Doctor, holding the blade close to her side. "Wasteful you say...no, I wouldn’t say wasteful. I'd call it mindful of costs...small operations provide smaller budgets than one who is funded by a city hospital might be accustomed to." She maneuvered herself, placing a table between herself and the Doctor. "Some have not yet had the fortune of practicing for an extended period of time yet." She tilted her head, shaking her head slightly. "How long have you known.." she asked simply