View source for Logs:Cold Anasthetic

{{Log
|chars=[[Darwin]], [[Faith]]
|gamedate=2022.08.22
|categories=Vampire, Werewolf
|location=West Garfield
|summary=Darwin comes to Faith for some medcial assistance.
|log=Look, it's not a good series of neighborhoods. Which is probably why Faith has actually setup her business around here. But she's not in the midst of the suburbs. It's one of those industrial and commercial districts, and it's a quiet street in disrepair, a park across the way that's overgrown and out of control, that sees the small warehouse with no signage that serves as Faith's place of business. No one would look at the dull, grey building twice.

Outside, just stepping out from the side door into the nearby alleyway and moving up onto the street proper, is Faith. Dressed all in black, with her hoody on and the hood up, along with a pair of sunglasses on even at this time of night, she's lit up by staring at her smartphone, scrolling through something or another. She's cleaned herself up after work tonight, but it takes a bit more to really shake the smell of blood for some senses.

Dark locks and a closely trimmed beard frame the pensive visage of Darwin Pace. When his blue gaze isn't lost in distant thought, it might dance along with the boom of his voice and the lift of his narrow shoulders. Much of his size is undermined by the thick, oversized coats he tends to wear-- he can never seem to be warm enough.
 
Darwin grows more and more wary the more corners he turns in pursuit a very specific address. He looks for signs, which is why he ends up passing Faith a few times, on the other side of the street, unable to locate anything. By the third time, he gives in and steps back towards the hooded woman near the alleyway, braced slightly for some kind of bad reaction. The smell of blood grows a little fresher as he approaches, one hand tucked beneath his overcoat. "Excuse me... Do you know if there's a clinic around here? Or... at least someone that handles that sorta' stuff?"
 
Faith's waiting for ... something, it seems. As she's not moving, and is clearly aware of the person wandering back and forth, but offers no assistance at all, staring at her phone. Only when she's actually addressed does she look up, a pale face cloaked with the shadows, dark glasses staring at Darwin. There's a slow inhale at the scent, and the woman's head tilts just slightly, in a nod, the phone sliding away into a pocket as she considers. "What do you need?" She asks simply, straight to business.

Darwin hesitates. He glances down the alley beyond Faith's shoulder, then studies the building off to the side. "Are you--" He shakes his head. "I just need to talk to someone that can administer a bit of first aid. From this clinic. This clinic specifically." He stiffens further. "I was told there was a clinic here," he adds, quieter.
 
She follows his gaze down the way, and over to the building itself, something like the ghost of an amused smile twitching into life upon her lips, apparently enjoying the moment of hesitation and wonder. But then she shakes her head. "When it rains it pours." She says with a sort of resigned tone about her. "Come on. Your injuries are clearly not life-threatening?" She questions, before turning about to begin to move down the alleyway, the jingle of keys heard as they are produced as she moves to unlock the side door once more.

Darwin blinks. "You're the doctor?" he asks, following Faith down the alley. Keys. Oh, she must've locked up. "I'm sorry it's late, I just didn't know where else to... uhm. Hang on. Are you--" He stammers, suddenly in a rush to determine something important but clearly unsure of how to word it. He sniffs. "It's not life-threatening, it's just incredibly painful, and it's not... meant for... eyes that aren't used to it." He winces.
 
"Am I?" She echoes, leaving that cut off question there a moment before adding to it, "Giving you my services for free? No." The door is unlocked, and she pushes through into a very small waiting room that could be called 'cozy'. There's two plastic chairs that don't look very comfortable at all, with a water dispenser between them. The lights are flicked on. Once they're both within, the door is locked again. She doesn't linger, she just continues on through the next door, gesturing for Darwin to follow, which opens into the surgical suite proper. It's a larger space, all cold and sterile. Polished concrete floor, the shiny surgical table with the overhead lighting. It's clear that no small amount of money has gone into setting this up. "Take a seat and show me what we're working with here," she says quietly, gesturing to where there's a couple more chairs and a stool or two, as she moves towards a cupboard to fetch her first aid supplies.

Darwin seems decently surprised that there actually is a clinic back here, and it looks pretty professional. He smiles bitterly at the mention of not-so-free services, following Faith further into the surgical suite. When she asks to see, Darwin holds his hidden arm closer against his middle, and looks squarely at the woman, as if the extra light can help discern anything. A thought occurs to him, and he reaches down in one of his coat pockets to pull out an Accord coin and gauge Faith's reaction.

She's not watching for most part as he follows in, getting her supplies ready. It's when she turns about, ready to see what's what, and steps closer to stare at that coin, and then looks up at Darwin's face properly. Still wearing those sunglasses though. "Are you offering me a coin in payment?" She asks quietly. "This would be acceptable, but I am think this is not what is being offered." The extra light does discern a few things, too. Her face, what can be seen of it, is *very* pale.

Darwin seems convinced enough. He tucks the coin away. "Dunno' what you are but you're probably safe, if this is the place I think it is." His guard softens somewhat, and he draws his arm forth, still standing, holding it out over the table and bracing it with his other hand. "Don't ask me how this happened," he mutters, clearly embarrassed to have an ornate letter opener jabbed clear through his palm. It quickly becomes clear that the flesh is trying to heal itself, warping slowly around the intrusion, only to shrink back. "I can't get it out. Hurts too much. If you could just numb it..."

She sets her things on the table, and then lifts her hands to pull back her hood, letting it drop down. "As safe as anyone within the Accords can be," Faith offers, perhaps as a touch of reassurance there. Then she's looking at the wound, considering it through her glasses, a brief grin there. "I wouldn't dream of it. My clients value not being asked questions. I can help you." She nods the once, reaching into her kit for something. "This is a numbing cream, a local anesthetic that should help." She produces a tube of the stuff. "Or, I can inject you with something to numb the whole hand, if you like. If it would even work for ... you." She stares at the wound. "I am guessing you won't need any actual wound treatment once the object is removed?"
 
"Whole hand," Darwin readily agrees, "Go for it. Should work? Hopefully? At least for a little." He shakes his head. "It'll heal. Can't bring this shit to the humans, I figure you can imagine why." He leans on the table, a slow trickle of blood traveling down his knuckles. For how much pain he seems to be in, he certainly looks relieved to find that there is indeed a sort of healer here that keeps secrets.
 
"Yes, I understand. Alright," Faith says simply, nodding her head. She puts the tube away and moves off to fetch something else that's not really stocked in her first aid kit. But she has supplies. She even washes her hands quickly first, and then gets a pair of surgical gloves. She returns with a vial and a syringe, loading it up and preparing. She does, perhaps, stare at the trickling blood for perhaps a *moment* longer than would be normal for a person, but on the whole, she's utterly professional. There's even an alcoholic swab applied, taking all the precautions that might not even be necessary for members of the Accords. Her hands are also, very cold, but soon enough she's ready. "There'll just be a small pinch," she offers in that distracted kind of reassuring tone used by doctors everywhere as they work, and then one hand is holding lightly at his wrist as the other is guides the needle.

Darwin is... slightly squeamish here. He looks away and forces a weak smile. "So, this is your place? Do you work here alone? I didn't th--" It's just a pinch. Just a little tiny pinch, but it's enough to startle Darwin, who is all nerves. He ends up biting his tongue, and slumping somewhat against the table. If he notices the chill, he doesn't comment, though he definitely keeps stealing glances.
 
It's over quickly, and Faith is stepping away, nodding. "Shouldn't take long to work," she says, setting about packing her few things up, glancing up at him proper. "It is my place, yes. I mostly work alone,I have an assistant when needed for more serious injuries. The gloves are peeled off, and she considers Darwin in silence for a few moments while waiting. "So." She says with a thought. "Would you mind if I ask who and what you are? I've been trying to ... broaden my horizons when it comes to Accorded people, lately."
 
Sweet, numbing relief. Darwin sighs through his teeth, and straightens slowly. He tests the letter opener, nudging it where it had been so tender, and grabbing it tightly. With a quick yank, it's free, and his skin knits together quickly. "Accorded people," he repeats, thoughtful, as he flexes his fingers. "Darwin. I think most people just call us wolves. How much for this? Will you really accept the coin?"
 
"Ah. You're one of the Accorded wolves?" She confirms, moving about with a few more things once he's pulling the letter opener free. She's going to clean up whatever blood trickled onto the table. Thoroughly. "I would accept the coin if you wanted to offer it, sure," she says with a shrug of her shoulders, "But I'm not really sure that one quick injection is really worth a coin. My name is Faith," she offers, glancing up with something of a thoughtful look to her, behind the glasses. "You know, maybe you can help me with something else. I'm in the market for some silver. For the unAccorded wolves." She gestures down, as if to signify underground. "I don't know if that's something you'd be able to help with?"

Darwin tilts his head, rubbing his thumb into his palm. He makes no move to collect that damn opener, not with his blood all over it. "Unaccorded..." When Faith gestures, he looks to the ground, as if expecting to see said wolves. "...Wait, the Pure? The ones working for that one prince guy? Sorry, Faith, I'm very out of the loop." His brows lift when he realizes, "You must be a vampire. I've never met one."
 
Faith will eventually get around to cleaning up the letter opener too. "Ahh yes, the Pure. I don't really know much about your ... differences with them, I admit." She pauses, glancing aside at him and staring. "I am a vampire, yes. Sorry, it is not quite natural for me to ... volunteer information, a lot of the time." She shrugs, as though that's just how it is. "The Pure don't work for Prince Tillo anymore, though. They've taken to worshipping a spirit of fire instead, and they've betrayed Tillo. So. We're looking for ways to deal with them."
 
Darwin looks bewildered, and yet /fascinated/. He can't help but search for fangs, squinting slightly. "It mostly surrounds an ancient betrayal. Fitting. Spirit of fire... I think I've heard about some of this. Do you... work for Tillo? I don't now how any of the prince stuff works. And silver would do it. I know of a few places. You'll have to find some kind of smith though, unless you wanna' attack them with a tea set."
 
No sign of fangs, not really. The vampire even gives a bit of a grin, which gives plenty of chance to inspect her teeth. "No, I don't work for Tillo. I work for Prince Enrico. But Tillo is sort of like ... a cousin." She makes a sort of hand-waggle gesture with her hand, suggesting that's not really quite right, but good enough. "The Princes are just fancy titles for the leader of a vampiric population in a city. Most cities would just have one Prince. Chicago is different." She shrugs. "That's the real problem with the silver, though, yes. I have money enough, I'm sure I can get plenty of silver jewelry and the like. Though, mussing through pawn shops and the like is going to take a lot of time, I think."
 
Darwin is blunt. "Where's your biters?" He points to his own, flat teeth. "Ahhh, politics. I could help, yeah. Go through things quicker. It's pretty easy to sense. It has to be of a certain purity." He shakes his head. "Surely other Accorded packs know about this. Have any reached out? Do you have enough... people for this? Did I just stumble upon a war?"
 
"Hidden," says Faith to the wondering about her teeth, nodding the once. "They come out when we need them. It wouldn't be very good if humans could spot our fangs all the time." She's wiping down the knife, glancing down at it with that some professional air she's approached everything. "I wasn't aware of the purity. If you can sense it, that would be ... very useful, actually. I know some of your packs do know about this. I've ... discussed it briefly with a man named Flint?" She questions, looking aside at him. "But it was before I thought about the silver."
 
"Retractable? Wild," Darwin murmurs. "Yeah, I... I suppose that wouldn't be too stealthy." He smirks. "It burns to the touch, doesn't do any damage unless, y'know, run through like my letter opener there. It's worse for the Pure." He studies Faith for a long moment, then nods, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small spiral notepad. He tears off a page and hands it over. "My number. I think I'll try and talk with Flint first, and I'll get back to you. There's a few... laws that surround this. Sound like a plan?"
 
"Compared to being able to literally shapeshift into a wolf, not so wild." Faith counters, with a brief smirk of her own. "But yes. You could x-ray me and find no trace of my fangs unless I wanted you to." She nods thoughtfully at the discussion of the silver, inclining her head a little. She reaches for the slip of paper, glancing down at it and retrieving her own phone to enter the details. Within moment a text is sent from her number, just the single word: Faith. "That seems fair enough. I understand we all have our own internal issues and laws to deal with. Again, Chicago is ... different. I've never had such open dealings with Others before." A pause. "I'll keep looking in the meanwhile though because we are going to have to deal with these Pure, and their minotaur fire spirit thing, sooner rather than later." She makes a face of distaste.
 
Darwin wobbles his hand at the wild comparisons. "Big, busy city. Yeah, by all means, do what you need to do." He glimpses at his phone, tap-taps away the contact, and pockets it, looking up with a smile that's perhaps /slightly/ hungry. "Those shitheads need to die." He softens, then. "Thanks for the treatment. Good to know there's a place to go if shit really hits the fan. Will keep you updated, Faith."
 
Faith's finished cleaning up the letter opener, and she's offering it back over. It's not super sterilized or anything like the rest of the suite will be, but it's clean. "They do need to die, they're making things very awkward, taking over the undercity and the like." Her head nods there, and she offers simply. "You are welcome. And yes, there is a place to go. Most people of our kind don't have much call for my services, but if you ever know someone who does..." She shrugs. "Thank you, Darwin. It's been interesting."
 
"No, keep that, fuckin' thing can't be trusted," Darwin mutters. "It /has/ been interesting. I have... so many questions. But I'll save them for when you're not on the cusp of a bloody battle." He pivots with a squeak of his shoes and heads out, waving briefly over his shoulder.
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