[REVISED SOMEWHAT - 10/25/17] (thanks Char-Nobyl!)
[REVISED SOMEWHAT - 1/31/18]
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
It was early morning, the light falling through the glass doors in the front lobby was just beginning to move across the tile when a young woman walked through the lobby at Alchemilla.
She was tall, very tall. A peculiare nuance of her power, the same one that made her limbs long and sinewy, and walk with a rolling distance-eating ambling gait. One might be persuaded to say she had a runner's build, lean and hard. Others would have said she was coltish.
She wore a black bodysuit with grey padding sewn into the knees and elbows, and her gloves left her fingers exposed, each ending in inch-long claws. Her eyes were solid green interrupted by an narrow pupil slit, without any whites. Brown hair gathered in a loose braid that would have hung to her knees, now gathered in a braided rope. Her shoulders were sharp and squared, her head held high. She grinned, and her smile had fangs.
She wore a mask- black tied over her eyes, the loose ends trailing down her back beside her braid.
A pair of guards at the front desk stood upon seeing her, and one stepped around the desk to shake her hand, then gave her a visitor's pass. She held onto the smile as they talked to her.
"You know the way?"
"Yeah, I remember, thanks." She knew where he'd be.
She tossed a wave over her shoulder as she stepped into the elevator.
Inside the elevator her smile drooped, replaced with introspection- she breathed deeply, in through her nose. Smelling.
Down an elevator to the patient sections; the door opened and she stepped out, walking briskly. The kiosk guards on the patient floor greeted her, "Morning."
"Morning to you too." Feral returned, sliding them her visitor pass.
He glanced at it, slid it under the ultraviolent lamp and inserted it into the microchip scanner.
"Everything checks out." He handed it back to her.
She took the pass and continued walking. Pushing open a door, the floor under her feet shifted from tile to carpet. Blue carpet and wood paneling, office doors with glass panels and names over them. It was a lobby with a receptionist desk, a dark-haired woman in her late twenties. When she looked up her smile faltered for a moment, then returned with double force as she looked up into the tall girl's face. Feral smiled in return.
"Feral, hello! How are you?"
"Doing great, how are the shrinks?"
The receptionist stood up, sour and rueful all at once, "Oh, you know what it's like. It's good to see you, Kalie."
Miss Tostenson stepped around the front desk and hugged her, "You looking for your father?"
"If I can find 'im."
Tostenson smiled and pointed to her telephone, "I'll page him, he ought to be in this time of day, wait a bit?"
Feral walked over to the waiting chairs and sat down, sprawling out on two seats. She didn't wait long before a sudden and joyous shout sent her heart into her throat, and made Miss Tostenson flinch.
"Feral!" Gretchen erupted from the floor, like a jack-in-the-box in her best impression of Casper the friendly ghost. She looked at the empty chairs, then at Feral where she clung to the ceiling, "Ha! Still got it." She pumped a fist in triumph.
"Goddamit Gretchen, don't do that." Feral growled, trying to extract her hands from the ceiling tiles.
"It's good to see you back!"
Feral succeeded in freeing her hands and dropped to the floor, catlike and almost completely silent. She turned and squinted at Gretchen, where she floated two feet above the floor. "...Is that your new costume?" She asked at last, a little incredulous.
Feral's startled reaction was understandable. Gretchen had altered her avatar until it fit the theme of a child ghost, with eerie pale skin covered with rusty stains spattered across her face, glowing white eyes and a tattered black dress. Feral sniffed carefully. Gretchen looked like a corpse possessed by a demonic presence, but she still smelled like nothing. Gretchen was always a little extra eerie, with the absence of scent.
"Do you like it?"
"Well," Feral drawled, "It got close enough to making me wet myself, so I think it did what you meant 'ta."
Gretchen laughed, floating above the floor.
"Tulpa." The floating girl froze, slowly rotating in place to see Tostenson glaring at her, "Is someone going to be having a conversation with you later about responsible use of powers?"
"...No?"
Tostenson sighed, "Gretchen, we've been over this."
"But... Kalie's back! And I'm the premier reporter, the intrepid news gal! I have to be there when the news happens!"
Feral patted her on her head, even though her hand passed right through- Gretchen could still feel it, "You're a hopeless gossip, is what you are. I'm glad to see you, but it's true."
Miss Tostenson sighed, "Tulpa, I'm not going to report this, but I want you to stop."
"Aww, come on, it was funny wasn't it?"
Feral sighed and glanced up at the ceiling. The tiles she had grabbed had a neat set of ten holes where she'd grabbed them.
"... I can fix that." She said.
"No, no..." Miss Tostenson said, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "It's not a problem, there's a budget for that. Look, Kalie, can you stay here while I take Tulpa back down. Your father will be up in about ten minutes." she fixed a glare on Gretchen, who gave her a nervous grin.
"Come along Tulpa."
Gretchen winked over Miss Tostenson's shoulder, "We'll talk later?"
"Sure."
"Yes!"
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
Waiting alone in the lobby while Miss Tostenson escorted Gretchen's projection back to her wing, Feral had some time to think.
She had a lot of memories of this place. They weren't all bad... And every time she volunteered more time here, she discovered more.
Alchemilla hadn't changed much since she'd lived there. But she found herself not minding as much as she'd thought she might. Maybe it was perspective.
But then, the smell, that smell of desperation and fear- she remembered that well. That was still strong. Miss Tostenson... Feral sniffed once again, delicately. Sweat, perfume, the latex and cotton. Soap. A bit of blood. Maybe from shaving her legs? That time of the month? But over it all, fear, anxiety, stress. Tostenson had reeked of it.
Feral followed news about Alchemilla. There had been a recent upheaval after some Shaker transformed the entire hospital and most of the surrounding campus. Her father had talked about it a bit, though not as much as she'd have liked.
It always made her a little nervous to hear about the ongoing struggles at Alchemilla and not know what he was getting up to, or how safe he was. Information security meant she didn't know the names or dates, but she had a better idea of who and what than the image the public was fed.
Alchemilla was dangerous, and despite what he insisted, Dad was getting on in years. He wasn't as fast or as strong he used to be, and wasn't really up to wrestling violent patients any more. He didn't work in the Orange levels anymore, Medium and High security was too intense for him, and even he admitted it. But there were dangerous patients in every security clearance. Sometimes it was the most unassuming ones...
She traced a line down her bicep, expecting some kind of phantom pain, maybe a scar. But her healing was perfect.
Bad memories there. Bad, bad memories. Feral took a deep breath and glanced around the room; the desk, the chairs. The carpet looked new. She would need to talk to the Protectorate garrison chief and say hi to Summer Holiday... It'd been a while.
That was at least half of why she was here after all.
She heard a door open, "Kalie?"
Feral popped to her feet, grinning, "Dad!"
Doctor Selmy walked across the floor with long strides. He barely came up to Kalie's shoulder any more, he gave her a hug all the same. The end result was a little lopsided. Kalie lifted him up, about six inches, before spinning once- quickly, but carefully. Then she set him down with equal care.
He stepped back and appraised her with a critical eye, sweeping her from head to toe- and finding her well, nodded, beaming. "If you keep growing like this, soon you won't be able to stand straight indoors."
"Ugh. Don't remind me." Feral said, "I'm already way too tall. All the guys want fun-sized girls, I'm beanstalk plus-sized."
"Ha!" Doctor Selmy said, "They are jealous."
They started walking, Feral moseying slowly while her long, loping strides easily keeping up with Selmy's shorter legs but more energetic pace.
"It is good to see you, Kalie."
"Same here." Feral said, "I'd heard a lot of stuff outta Alchemilla this month. A castle and a crater, that's new."
They reached his office and stepping in, he turned on the lights.
It was familiar, the chairs and the couch. She sat down on the lying couch and it had a feel of familiarity, even if her perspective was changed with everything smaller, lower.
She remembered their first talk, when she had first walked in the door, frightened, eyes wide and angry. She hadn't known what many of the little comforts he offered her meant, the intent behind them. She hadn't trusted him, trusted anyone. And now Doctor Selmy, much shorter than her most prominent memories cast him. She sniffed- that same certainty and strength, the smell of fear was on him too, but also resolution, strength.
It pervaded the room, sunk deep in from years of occupation. He made it his, and no other scent owned it.
Doctor Selmy stepped behind his desk, rifling around inside a file cabinet. A moment later he came back and sat down across from her, laying out a stack of folders. Then he poured glasses of water for both of them.
"There's an assessment team coming in later, part of repairing and refurbishing efforts. They'll be working with our system and proceadures, trying to patch the blind spots again."
"Huh. I wonder if they'd mind some input."
"I'm sure it could be arranged."
Feral shrugged, "There something else else?"
Doctor Selmy paused, passing her one of the glasses, "Kalie, I need your help. While you're here, there's someone I'd like you to meet. I know you always enjoy working with my patients, but... This is going to be a special case."
Feral blinked up at that, "Why?"
"There is someone, a student of mine." He said, "I want you to look out for her specifically while you're working. She's been taking a lot of risks; good risks, for the right reasons. But I'm worried she is going to bite off more than she can chew and needs someone watching out for her."
Feral gave him a level stare, one corner of her mouth twitching, "What kind of troublemaker is she?"
"What kind are any of us?" He smiled back, "Her her name is Auspice, and I suspect you are going to like her a great deal. She... draws others to her. Reaches out to them, but she doesn't work her way in, she brings them out. She helps them help themselves."
Feral thought about that, "Part of her power?"
"I couldn't say. It's a tough nut to crck, that one. Not as straightforward as lasers or healing, or whathaveyou."
Doctor Selmy lifted his glass and took a sip, "There is also a young woman, she is on her third strike for violence." He leaned forward on his cane and tapped the top folder, "Burnscar, pyrokineic and teleporter. Class one flight risk with many altercations with security."
Feral thought about that, and reached for the nearest folder. "I've heard of her. I don't think I've talked to her before..."
"Burnscar was recently transferred to a lower security level in hopes of cultivating Auspice's influence." he said, "She is a good soul that has been hurt by the world. And the main reason I want you to watch out for Auspice.
Feral leafed through a few more pages. "Do you know who else is going to be in the assessment team?"
Doctor Selmy glanced at the clock on his desk, "Some of them."
"Hmm."
He took a sip of water, at length he spoke, "Are you going to be visiting High security?"
He asked gently, kindly. She recalled tears streaming down his face, and long sleepless nights when it had all come crashing down. But all that was dead and gone and passed.
Feral furrowed her brow, "Will we have time? It's a big group."
"I can clear up some time." He said softly, "We can visit them together tonight. It's not a problem."
Feral heaved a mighty sigh, and rallied a smile, which Doctor Selmy returned.
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
Feral showing us to volunteer her experiences and opinions was not uncommon. As a former patient in good standing with the Protectorate, she carried some weight.
In this case, it lead to a stuffy room where the ceiling fan spun in lazy circles, stirring the air but not making it any cooler. Six doctors sat across one side of a conference table, piles of papers and folders arrayed across the top. All names familiar to Feral, old friends in their own way. Ferris, Werneck, Yamato, Selmy. Jenkins and Fox, two new faces.
The Protectorate capes that would be handling the patients sat across from the doctors, examining the summaries of the parahumans they would be working with. A television screen on the wall displayed a gaudily dressed man reading from a tablet and humming to himself.
Feral glanced down the line. Summer Holiday and Kudzu, both representing Alchemilla's security staff. Three other Protectorate heroes; Shelter, Pinpoint, and Tecton. The smells in the room where a blend of each, Feral picked them apart and untangled them as the meeting progressed.
Shelter was at least familiar, and her power was useful- she could redirect damage from herself onto nonliving matter and objects she was touching. She was wearing something scented with sandalwood, and her smell was level, without any accent caused by strong emotions. Feral tended to associate it with confidence.
Feral had worked with Pinpoint before, but hadn't particularly enjoyed the experience. He was ex-PRT. His trigger event had left him nearly blind, and possibly the sourest, most foul-tempered and intractible man she had ever worked with.
And, lastly, looming at the head of the table was Tecton. He was bulky, a trait accentuated by his armor, and his arms were encased in heavy gauntlets that looked like a blend of armored gloves and industrial equipment. Feral wondered if he planned to wear his armor for the entire week. Tinkers. He was one of the few individuals that matched Feral's height, at least in his armor. He was a Ward, out of Chicago and his Thinker power was similar to The Lilies', an understanding of structure, of architecture. She smelled machine oil on him, and not much else...
Perhaps more interesting was the Thinker contingent joining them in spirit, if not all in body. Appraiser wiring in his analysis capabilities over teleconference, on loan from the Guild, but both Spur and Whimper were relatively unknown to Feral, local independents affiliated with the Protectorate. They looked nervous, fidgiting, both smelled mildly anxious. This was probably their first time working at Alchemilla.
There were some thirty profiles arrayed in front of the volunteers, it was going to take a while. Had already taken a while. Two hours in, and Feral was fit to strangle someone, and they were only now arriveing at the looming topic- the elephant in the room.
Doctor Werneck ignored him, "The rest of the ward are already covered by current proceadures; new arrivals Bounce, Chimera, and Albatross included. On to Labyrinth herself then."
"Labyrinth is the Shaker, right? The one that transformed your faculty?"
"...She is." Pinpoint replied bluntly, not looking up from the papers in his hands. Feral marked how Pinpoint glared at the papers as he silently read, looming like a thundercloud.
Feral glanced at the television screen, where Appraiser leaned in, just a hair too close to the camera.
His costume was a blend of purple and white tones. A long white coat over top, black visor sunglasses and some gold chains and rings seated at a leather office chair somewhere in- well, Canada, Feral guessed. She didn't actually know. He played up the image of Hollywood glamour, everything gilded; but he spoke quietly, quickly, and nervously. He looked uncomfortable in his own skin, the gold only ended up looking ridiculous. It fit with his theme of 'how much', and his power, but it didn't fit him.
Feral always had a difficult time getting a feel for someone she couldn't smell. It was generally more honest than words or clothing. It was difficult to hide from her nose.
"Auspice, Burnscar, and Labyrinth are working together on the new mentoring program." Doctor Selmy said, "If possible, I would like to keep them together. Objections?"
"I have one." Doctor Werneck added, "Burnscar has the highest danger rating of the three. She's the most unstable as well. Auspice has proven effective in reining her in. I would preffer if Auspice didn't have her attention divided."
Doctor Yamada made a considering sound in her throat, "I think it is premature to end the arrangement as it stands just yet."
"Yes." Doctor Ferris agreed.
Pinpoint was still focused on her profile, "She has been reclassified." he muttered.
Appraiser glanced back at his tablet. "Shaker twelve?" A long, low whistle, "Those are some big numbers..."
"Burnscar is the biggest actual threat?" Pinpoint looked up, his voice was gravelly and harsh to match his face.
He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and brows knit, a rough man with grey in his hair, and the only parahuman present that was not also a cape. He worked for the PRT, still wore his field uniform from PRT Assault; though these days he didn't do as much field work. Not since his injury and trigger. His face was craggy, with a defined jawline and sunken cheeks that would have been distiguished if not for the scars.
Rough, bubbled patches, old burns and lacerations covered half his face, giving him a permanent lopsided sneer, and his left eye cloudy. The right side of his face was scarred as well, with a series of raking scars over his eye, which was now always half lidded and unable to open fully. His expression was permanently set to glower. Feral wondered why he left his face like that, the PRT would have covered reconstructive surgery. Maybe it was a macho-man kind of thing... He certainly looked intimidating. And someone who could pick apart her history, future, and weaknesses at a glance... That was intimidating too.
She scented the air, he smelled of cordite and iron. And angry, he was always angry. She could smell the testosterone, sour and bitter. She had spent a long time training, learning what those smells meant, the heart rate, arterial tension and testosterone production increased, cortisol (the sickly-sweet smell of stress) decreased, and the left hemisphere of the brain was stimulated.
That combined with the cordite made Feral want to sneeze. Had he been putting in extra time at the range before coming? Did he just assume things would not go smoothly? Did he expect to shoot some of these kids?
He always did rub her the wrong way. Idly, Feral recalled a time when she might have leapt across the able at him with a challenging yell on principle. She was glad she wouldn't be working with him. One time was enough.
Werneck looked like he'd bitten a lemon, "I would very much preffer it if you refrained from refering to our patients as 'threats', Pinpoint."
"But she's violent." He said. Werneck and Pinpoint exchanged stares, Werneck frowning stiffly, Pinpoint impassive.
"Pinpoint," Doctor Selmy spoke up, mild as ever, and broke the stalemate, "Burnscar has made tremendous progress recently. You are not here to work with her directly, you are here to work with our security staff, not our patients."
Pinpoint leaned back, dropped his packet on the table and crossed his arms.
"Hey, knock it off." Whimper said.
Whimper was a woman with short brown hair, an athletic build, and a sleeveless jumpsuit. The only thing she wore to conceal her face was a domino mask, issued by the hospital. Next to Spur and Appraiser, and even Pinpoint, she looked far more mundane and down to earth. Approachable, in a way. She wore gloves, and drummed her fingers on the table, glancing between Werneck, Selmy, Pinpoint, and Feral herself. She smelled of caution, thoughtfulness. Low-stress and low emotional impact. Pensive. She weighed her words before speaking.
Feral had read the official profile for Whimper's power, some kind of clairvoyance tied to speech. Hyperawareness of anyone who spoke to her, or whose voice she could hear. Sharpened learning of languages. Whimper herself talked very little, limiting herself to clipped, short sentences- preferring to listen.
"Some of us are here to help." Wimper said, "Not argue."
The silence dragged on until Doctor Ferris cleared her throat, "Moving on. The director included a list of proposed improvements and upgrades before he left, I would like you to look at it. Summer Holiday will be offering her input as well. After that we have a facility inspection, special attention paid to the recent breaches."
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
It was not the first time she had sat in with a patient getting routine assessments. Not the first time she'd requested to. The doctors at Alchemilla liked the idea of a solid six-foot-plus girl with a high Brute rating hanging around all helpfull-like. Of course, she'd kind of expected Doctor Ferris to ask her to help with someone a little more dangerous than a Ward in for on suspicion that she was suicidal.
She kind of suspected Ferris wanted to do something like what Doctor Selmy did- but didn't want to go so far and ask for it. Of course, Dad asking was probably stepping over a line. He wasn't good with rules if he felt they got in the way.
The girl Ferris was working with was full of energy. She did what Ferris wanted, but Feral could smell her, and there was a hell of a lot of resentment bubbleing away under the surface.
Which meant she probably ought to have seen it coming, but some things are like that. They sneek up on you
"All right Glassboom. Next mark."
Glassboom groaned, all teenage drama and annoyance. But she obediently bent and leapt straight up, improbably high, her arm reaching out to tap the next mark on the wall. The mark read twenty three feet. Feral was impressed. She could reach that kind of height, but that was because of increased muscle mass and training. Glassboom's power meant that the usual tells for exerting that kind of effort were absent. Her curls didn't bounce, and her knees didn't bend enough when she landed.
They were standing in a tall room in Assessment, what looked like a cross between a full-size gymnasium and a medical exam room. There was a desk and workstation with a computer in one corner by the door, and a battery of equipment set against the same wall. Some of it was mundane- a scale, for example -but a lot of it was more exotic. An articulated arm with some kind of sensor, like a standing x-ray machine, stood out. The ceiling had a series of electrical nodes spaced every second tile. About a third of the floor was covered with rubber. The rest was covered in thick gymnastics padding, and featured springboards, a pommel horse, a horizontal bar, balance beam, vault props...
And the height measure.
"Very good, and twenty four?"
Glassboom managed thirty-seven feet before she started breathing hard and hunched over.
"All right, very good. Glassboom, how are your shins doing?"
Glassboom was bent over, grimacing, "Fine. Let's keep going."
That was a lie. Feral could smell it, and pain. She caught Doctor Ferris' eye, shaking her head slightly.
Doctor Ferris frowned, peering at Glassboom intently, "It's not a good idea to lie to your doctor, Glassboom, I think that's enough."
Glassboom frowned and stood, with only a little difficulty, but didn't protest and limped with every second step. Feral gave her a hand to a seat.
"Fucking legs..."
"You need anything?" Feral asked.
"... Here." Doctor Ferris said, walking up with a little plastic cup in hand, which she handed to Glassboom, "Any sharp pains?"
"No, just achy."
Doctor Ferris frowned, "If you were starting to hurt, you ought to have told me."
Glassboom slung the medicine back with a grimace, and Doctor Ferris gave her a meaningful look before she stepped away and walked to the corner workstation, and began to type at the computer.
Feral stood up and leaned against the wall, watching as Glassboom sat and ached, rubbing her shins. "You were in the Wards, right?" Feral asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.
Glassboom glared back up at Feral. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were red and watery, like she was holding back tears. Feral smelled desperation, boredom and a sharp smell. Fear. "Yeah, what of it?"
"Cheer up, you'll get out of here." Feral said, "You have a strong power."
"It's so fucking boring!"
"So's active duty, sometimes." Feral leaned back, "I read your profile, you had discipline problems, right?"
Glassboom snorted.
"If you want to go back to fieldwork, get out of Alchemilla and back to your team, you're going to need to work with the docs."
"Like you'd know." Glassboom said.
"I do know." Feral said, "I started out here, in Alchemilla."
She reached out and squeezed Glassboom's shoulder, "I know it can be hard, all right?"
Doctor Ferris stood up, "All right, we're done here."
"... We're done?" Glassboom frowned, "We still have the bounce test... And the punching bag thing..."
"Nope." Doctor Ferris said, "You are heading down to the infirmary right now."
"But-
"No buts, young lady." Doctor Ferris said, waving a finger sternly, "You aren't participating in any further testing without clearance from Doctor Lafayette. Now."
Glassboom stood quickly, a protest on her lips- but inhaled just as suddenly and fell to her knees with a sharp breath.
Doctor Ferris sighed, "Feral, can you help carry her?"
Feral shrugged and knelt down to scooped Glassboom up in one arm, the backs of her knees cupped in her hand and her back resting against her shoulder. The smaller girl gave an indignant squeak.
"Come on, let's get you down there." Feral said, pulling the door open with her free hand and stepping out into the hallway, Glassboom safely tucked into the crook of her arm.
"I hate this!"
Feral raised an eyebrow, "I can carry you another way, if you want."
"Shut up!"
Feral raised her other eyebrow, and now she grinned, "How do you feel about under arm?"
Glassboom gave her one of the most adorable glares Feral had ever seen.
"Awe, aren't you just the cutest?"
The girl muttered mutinously under her breath. Feral guessed Glassboom didn't appreciate not having to walk on cracked shins.
"... You do know how much trouble you're in, don't you Glassboom? If Doc Selmy was working your case, this'd set you back months."
"So what?" Glassboom grumbled, "My bones'll still be soft, even if I get out of this place. I won't get to go out and patrol or anything. I won't get to do anything. Not one fucking thing."
Feral peered at her carefully. "... You do understand how serious this is, Glassboom?"
The route to low-sec's infirmary was familiar enough for Feral to follow by rote. They reached the front desk and an orderly stepped out to help Feral situate Glassboom in a wheelchair. The duty nurse waved them down the hall marked in-processing, Emergency Care, Radiology... Alchemilla's infirmary was a hospital in miniature all to itself. Feral kept pace behind the two as Glassboom was wheeled back to the radiology room, hands crossed behind her head, stretching and bored.
The smells were familiar. Antiseptic. Cotton- from the bed linens. Latex, rubber, plastic, and steel. People. Copper, blood, very faint. Just a trace. The faint smell of roasted pork.
Feral stopped and closed her eyes, scenting the air lightly and then breathing deeply. Yes, the smell of pork, and smoke, and chemicals.
A few scents, like fingerprints, she recognized- but the only strong scent was Doctor Layayette, the others were older. And still that smell of charred meat- it wasn't pork, now that she was paying attention. Mingled with the fainter scent of burnt hair, it was human.
Feral opened her eyes, and started walking again, catching up with Glassboom and her wheelchair- stalking now, stooped slightly, leaned forward, sniffing and listening. Doctor Selmy had described Burnscar. A flight risk, and a repeat violent offender. She was making progress, but she was dangerous. Feral tried to think of any other pyrokinetics in Alchemilla at this security level.
Three patients seated on the hall waiting chairs, talking with Doctor Lafayette. As Glassboom's wheelchair approached, two looked up. It took her a moment to recognize Auspice and Sadboy. The second girl- a blonde stareing into the middle distance -didn't look up and instead remained fixated on the wall.
All three smelled vaguely of smoke and the burnt hair. Feral narrowed her eyes.
"Glassboom? What happened?" Doctor Lafayette exclaimed.
Behind her, Auspice stood. She reached over and grabbed the blonde girl- Labyrinth, that was who it was, Labyrinth -who let herself be led over to Glassboom's wheelchair. Sadboy followed as well, though Feral caught him sneaking a couple uneasy glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking. He smelled... apprehensive.
Feral turned her attention to Auspice, her father's current prize student. She was a thin girl, tall for her age, though she had nothing on Feral; in the future she would be willowy, perhaps. Right now, she was long-limbed and just shy of gawky. She had glasses and curly brown hair down a little past her shoulders. A wide mouth and large, curious brown eyes that darted up from Glassboom to Feral with raised brows, and back again. She sized Feral up as Feral returned the favor.
"It's nothing, just my bones being stupid." Glassboom mumbled.
"You didn't go start another fight." Doctor Lafayette tutted, she was a portly, matronly woman in her forties with heavy freckles and hair drawn up in an iron-grey bun. She'd been in Alchemilla since Feral had been a patient. The stern glare she fixed Glassboom with now was very familiar.
"No!"
Glassboom gave her a reproachful look, the girls matched gazes, until Glassboom looked away. The taller girl sighed, and awkwardly patted Glassboom on the shoulder.
"Well, I am glad you're all right." Doctor Lafayette said.
"It wasn't a fight." Feral said, "Doctor Ferris was running baselines with her, she was pushing her limits and didn't tell us when it started to hurt."
Doctor Lafayette sighed, "Oh, Glassboom..."
Glassboom was silent, stareing at her hands in her lap. Shame, disgust. Frustration. Feral could smell it on her, faintly. It was always a humbling experience when your powers failed you. Feral trailed the doctor and her patient, until Doctor Lafayette paused in front of the double doors, one hand on the pushbar. "Feral, would you mind staying with those three?"
Feral glanced at the trio. Auspice, Labyrinth and Sadboy were they stood. She sniffed again.
"Uh, sure." she'd kind of wanted to any way. Needed to figure out what happened. Probably had something to do with Burnscar. And, there was Auspice.
"Sure, I can."
Doctor Lafayette was moving, checking Glassboom's pulse, talking to the orderly. The orderly pushing Glassboom's chair started moving, leaving Feral behind. They disappeared through a door marked Radiology, leaving Feral outside.
Time to sniff out some answers.
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
Auspice's little knot of friends huddled a little, watching Feral but trying to not be obvious about it... Or, well, trying to not be rude about it. Auspice stood in the middle, holding Labyrinth's hand and occasionally looking at the Protectorate hero. She smelled- admiration and awe, but secondary to stress, sadness, and fear. Feral considered. Sadboy was stealing glances at her- alternating between fear and curiosity. Maybe it was a powers thing. Auspice was more level, her scents all muted and stable.
Also distracted... Worried.
They were sitting across from radiology and intensive care, so they were probably anxious for a good reason. And the smell of burned person. That was still there.
She didn't have anywhere else to be at the moment, though Doctor Ferris might page her. In the meantime, she didn't have anywhere to be. And Auspice, Doctor Selmy's latest student was right there.
Auspice looked up, peering up at her. Even a beanstalk like her had to crane her neck, just a little, to look Feral in the face. Heh, a little beanstalk.
"Hey, I'm Feral."
"You're a Protectorate hero?" Auspice asked.
"That's right."
"So, what're you doing here?"
Breaking the silence like that startled Auspice, who straightened her back and squared her shoulders. Auspice didn't seem intimidated, just a little surprised at the question, "We're waiting for Mimi." Auspice said.
"So, Mimi... That's Burnscar, right?"
"Yes." Auspice said, and glanced at the still silent Labyrinth. Labyrinth was motionless as a statue holding Auspice's hand, only blinking as she stared emptily at nothing. Her eyes were a lovely blue, but glassy and unseeing. Auspice's brow furrowed and she shook her head. "Don't worry, Elle." Auspice frowned more.
"Worry?"
"She's, ah... I can kind of sense stuff. Like, I know she's worried. Upset." Aupsice glanced at Labyrinth, "Not worried about Mimi? Then what's got you so worked up?"
Labyrinth turned and looked at Auspice, blank-faced, but still silent.
Auspice frowned, Feral smelled... A lot of different emotions all kind of blended together. After a moment she shook her head and glanced back at Feral, "Mimi got burned, she was melting some metal and it dripped on her hands."
"Ah, I was wondering what that smell was." And that explained that. At least it wasn't another strike for violence...
Auspice's brow furrowed a little, but she didn't draw back. Under the smoke smell her scent was blended with curiosity, interest, and concern. Auspice's summary was pretty vague about her power. She hadn't been in Alchemilla very long, and had been admitted shortly after her trigger- efforts to analyse it afterwards had been stymied by its nuances.
A whiff of sea-brine. Feral looked up, towards Labyrinth. She swayed slightly- moving only tentatively, little shuffling steps. Auspice took her hand, and Labyrinth blinked back with wide blue eyes and a blank expression.
Feral watched, eyebrows raised as she left dusty, sandy footprints behind her on the floor, and a faint smell of salt brine, saltwater.
Auspice leaned over Labyrinth, talking quietly to her- and as Feral watched, blades of grass sprouted from the floor around Labyrinth, and then small blue flowers. Before Feral's eyes, vines ran up the wall behind the chairs Labyrinth had been sitting at and roses bloomed.
Auspice looked over at Feral, "I need to take Elle on a walk, okay?" she said.
"Yeah, yeah, sure."
She excused herself and led Labyrinth back to the seats. This left Sadboy standing awkwardly beside Feral, shifting from one foot to the other. "Did she, uh, break anything?" he asked, "Glassboom?"
"Nah. Didn't sound like it." Feral said, "She could still walk, it just hurt her." If she was a betting gal, she'd say it was a hairline fracture, maybe.
He nodded, a little limply, he didn't meet her eyes.
"Glassboom a friend of yours?"
"Y-yeah." He stuttered, "You... You've been here before, right? You're... You're Doctor Selmy's daughter, right? He adopted you?"
Feral tilted her head and squinted at him, "You're awfully well informed."
"Heather- er, Glassboom knows Tulpa. I, uh, hear things." he said.
Feral leaned back a little, Gretchen needed to learn when to keep her big mouth shut.
'Still...' Feral rubbed her forehead, 'that girl.'
"She's going to get herself hurt." Sadboy muttered.
"Yeah?" Feral asked, "Glassboom?"
"Heather already gets herself hurt. Auspice. She wants to help everyone she sees." Sadboy said, sitting down in the chairs where the flowers and vines were already receding, frowning and scowling at his feet.
Feral kept an eye on the two girls. They walked past the reception desk at the end of the hall, and the nurse on duty could see them as well. She smiled.
"Sounds like hero material to me."
(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ
High Security was not like the upper floors. The warm colors, the carpet, and the wood paneling was gone. The floor was rubber, the walls were concrete, and the ceilings were high. The air smelled flat, old. Like plastic and rubber and concrete instead of people, and yet still had that distant hint of fear, desperation. Just a trace. Old. There was little foot traffic down here.
Feral walked very slowly, hands in her pockets. At her right, Doctor Selmy kept pace silently, pensive.
This was a pilgrimage, of sorts; a reminder of were she had come from. Her history.
They reached a checkpoint gate. A booth with mirrored glass, pressure plates on the floor, cameras on the wall and ceiling. One turned to track them as they walked. That was new.
Security had received a complete overhaul since she had lived here. The silence was deafening, it rang in her ears. Feral wanted to break it, say something. Having Dad there was comforting, but his presence was not stabilizing like she hoped. What had she hoped? She never knew what to feel when they came down here, to see... to see them.
It was too complicated, she never knew where to start unraveling it. She never knew what to say. It always reminded her, of her first year, confused by kindness, upset by stillness.
They both slid their identification cards under the reader. A moment later they slid back without a word, and the door opened.
Inside the hall was flanked with picture windows. A second level of windows was visible above them on a balcony. The first two windows flanking them looked in on rooms with chairs, desks. One desk had a computer, another had a pile of books perched precariously on one corner.
They passed two more, one shuttered, the other's walls plastered with framed photographs. Little touches that showed the rooms were occupied. Feral breathed deeply, but all she could smell was herself and Doctor Selmy. His scent was fairly strong, he had to come down here regularly.
Feral tilted Her head, listening. There was a thud somewhere. A moment later she heard it again.
This was a specialized suite of rooms, set apart from the majority of the asylum. It allowed the patients here some privacy and helped protect Feral herself.
If the fallout of her fuckup got out, she didn't want to know what would happen.
The thumping was getting closer.
Feral and Doctor Selmy turned left, the room on their right was occupied.
By Feral.
She was in the room, standing against the window, bracing her arms against it. Her eyes were closed. The window was smeared with blood and, as Doctor Selmy and Feral watched, she reared her head back and slammed it against the reinforced glass. Her nose flattened and a streamer of blood splattered the window below her face. Her scrubs and hair were speckled red with blood.
Doctor Selmy and Feral stood frozen a moment, watching her duplicate rear her head back again- as she moved her head from the glass her crushed nose snapped back into place, the blood on her face absorbed through the skin. Only the blood on her hair and clothes remained. In a blink her face was whole and clean. then she slammed her head against the glass again.
Doctor Selmy quickly stepped to the window, thumbing a button set into the sill, "Helen! Stop this!"
The other Feral opened her eyes- one slitted and catlike, the other shockingly red from a burst blood vessel, causing the blue iris to stand out even more sharply. Its pupil was round. The skin around that eye was faintly purpled and bruised- but the bruising was fading even as they watched.
"Doctor?" The other Feral, Helen said, slurred. "Good morning."
"Good morning." Doctor Selmy said quickly, "How are you? Feeling? How are you feeling?"
Helen swayed in place, the hemorrhage in her eye faded, and the eye cleared, the bruising cleared, "...I have a headache." she said slowly and carefully.
She wasn't a perfect copy of Feral, differences were apparent with some attention. She was shorter. Her hair was not as long, and the tips were darker, black, fading in a gradient towards the roots- where it wasn't splattered with blood.
"A headache? I can imagine, you're under a lot of stress." Doctor Selmy said, "Would you like to go sit down?"
Helen swayed in place a moment, her mismatched eyes glazed and unfocused, "...Yes."
"Good, good. I'll be talking with you later, go relax for a bit."
Helen turned and stepped back from the window, there was a chair in the corner, it was comfortable and more importantly, bolted to the floor. Feral remembered, because Helen had attempted to rip it up and throw it at her the last time she had visited. Helen didn't sit on the chair, she slid to the floor against the wall, staring into the middle distance.
The next window they passed held another duplicate, this one quietly rocking in a corner. Her hair was more red, auburn to Feral's own brown. This one didn't look up as they passed.
At the end of the hall a door opened into the suit common room- two orderlies were present, as well as three patients.
Frida had dark eyes, stretched-out long limbs on a body too small for them, and sat in a wheelchair. Another was blond- Feral caught a faint whiff of chemical dye -her gaze rested on her bare feet. The third was not as pronounced; still smaller, still colored right. But then she looked up and both eyes were green, catlike, with slit pupils.
"Hey. Kalie." She said, flatly.
"Hey." Feral replied, "... I'm back."
The other-her nodded, jerkily, "It's... It's good to see you back."
Doctor Selmy stopped beside the Feral in the wheelchair, his voice was soft, gentle. "Frida, how are you feeling?"
"Started having the seizures." Frida said, "Hard to talk." She looked emaciated, the musculature had yet to catch up with the rapidly expanded skeleton.
One in six of the original test group of thirty had survived. But it was almost worse. Their smell was almost entirely her own, and getting stronger each time she visited.