Power Swap: Explain this nonsense! (Sean)
Sept 2, 2014 20:52:06 GMT -5
Post by Sophie Tillman on Sept 2, 2014 20:52:06 GMT -5
Monday had been a bumper day for Sophie as one of the clinic's on-hand meta specialists. It wasn't uncommon, exactly, for a meta or three to darken their doorstep everyday, but their reasons were almost always totally mundane. Even shapeshifters got the flu, after all. But yesterday was different.
First had been the man in his late thirties, his left forearm covered in burns. He wasn't sure what had happened, he told Sophie. He was a telekinetic, and he'd only been trying to pass himself the salt shaker from the other end of the table. Instead, the sleeve of his bathrobe had burst into flames.
Not long after him came the young woman hidden behind enormous sunglasses, wide-brimmed hat, and the collar of her coat hitched high. A thick layer of makeup gave her the look of attempting to cover a nasty case of shingles, but no - they were scales. The woman had awoke as an iguana and had yet to fully change back.
And on and on it went.
Today should have been Sophie's day off, but she agreed to come in and help with the growing number of meta walk-ins. For many, there was nothing the clinic could do, especially because they had as little clue what was going on as anybody else.
For Sophie herself, the change was more subtle. In order to accommodate the high metabolism that came coupled with her power, on most work days she was afforded two half-hour lunch breaks instead of one hour in the middle of the day. The better to space out the inordinately large meals she required. The first red flag was when she could barely eat half of her first meal before becoming uncomfortably full, a sensation she hadn't felt since adolescence. After the second meal and a dozen more patients Sophie had her suspicions, but she wasn't about to swallow anything dangerous to test it.
So today, still stuffed from her first break, Sophie had asked for an extension on the second so she could drive to Hammel and check on the place. If this thing was widespread, Lord only knew how the administration was handling it, let alone hundreds of untrained children.
The drive was short, as was the walk to Dr. Neville's office, as much of a hurry she was in. If she had time she wanted to run by the infirmary as well, but the psychiatrist was Sophie's main contact at the institute and surely if anybody understood what was happening, it was him.
Arriving at his office, Sophie's knuckles rapped purposefully against the wooden door. Time to get to the bottom of this.
First had been the man in his late thirties, his left forearm covered in burns. He wasn't sure what had happened, he told Sophie. He was a telekinetic, and he'd only been trying to pass himself the salt shaker from the other end of the table. Instead, the sleeve of his bathrobe had burst into flames.
Not long after him came the young woman hidden behind enormous sunglasses, wide-brimmed hat, and the collar of her coat hitched high. A thick layer of makeup gave her the look of attempting to cover a nasty case of shingles, but no - they were scales. The woman had awoke as an iguana and had yet to fully change back.
And on and on it went.
Today should have been Sophie's day off, but she agreed to come in and help with the growing number of meta walk-ins. For many, there was nothing the clinic could do, especially because they had as little clue what was going on as anybody else.
For Sophie herself, the change was more subtle. In order to accommodate the high metabolism that came coupled with her power, on most work days she was afforded two half-hour lunch breaks instead of one hour in the middle of the day. The better to space out the inordinately large meals she required. The first red flag was when she could barely eat half of her first meal before becoming uncomfortably full, a sensation she hadn't felt since adolescence. After the second meal and a dozen more patients Sophie had her suspicions, but she wasn't about to swallow anything dangerous to test it.
So today, still stuffed from her first break, Sophie had asked for an extension on the second so she could drive to Hammel and check on the place. If this thing was widespread, Lord only knew how the administration was handling it, let alone hundreds of untrained children.
The drive was short, as was the walk to Dr. Neville's office, as much of a hurry she was in. If she had time she wanted to run by the infirmary as well, but the psychiatrist was Sophie's main contact at the institute and surely if anybody understood what was happening, it was him.
Arriving at his office, Sophie's knuckles rapped purposefully against the wooden door. Time to get to the bottom of this.