Day 49: Late Afternoon- Richard Smith, MD Offices
Lunch with von Karma and his superiority complex had managed to have a stabilising effect on Lunge, at least, even if his company had left a lot to be desired. He had been given time to consider the following: that he had been pumped full of a drug cocktail, and that it was somehow possibly affecting his recall. The former was fact, the latter theory- theory that, if proved true, could possibly have the potential to completely derail his investigation. Reversing at any cost was paramount.
But how? The doctor had never named the drugs used, and he had barely managed more than glimpses of them himself, lurid colours stained into a memory he couldn’t reach clearly-not when his heart began to flutter at the very thought of last night. Even then, it was possible they had been coloured specifically to distract him. The only chance he had at discovering just what they were was through blood works, and there was no way he could have that done in enough detail during the night.
Unless… wasn’t there a doctor’s office in the town? Hmm. If he could somehow get an appointment or even a blood test… the possibilities were endless. One: if his test results clarified the contents of the drugs, he would have a jumping off point. Two: if his test results came back clear, he could take the town as a whole to be part of the ‘illusion’.
Lunge didn’t waste any time. He was out of the restaurant and into the Callahan’s in a moment, up the stairs the very second the grocer’s back was turned- and straight into his first problem. The door was locked, with a buzzer and intercom mounted on the wall; he’d probably need to think up a damn good excuse to get in at all. He paused for breath, then, pushing damp hair back into place as he considered his options. Problem: stigma of being a patient. Police authority is void. Play for sympathy…?
[For Mello!]
But how? The doctor had never named the drugs used, and he had barely managed more than glimpses of them himself, lurid colours stained into a memory he couldn’t reach clearly-not when his heart began to flutter at the very thought of last night. Even then, it was possible they had been coloured specifically to distract him. The only chance he had at discovering just what they were was through blood works, and there was no way he could have that done in enough detail during the night.
Unless… wasn’t there a doctor’s office in the town? Hmm. If he could somehow get an appointment or even a blood test… the possibilities were endless. One: if his test results clarified the contents of the drugs, he would have a jumping off point. Two: if his test results came back clear, he could take the town as a whole to be part of the ‘illusion’.
Lunge didn’t waste any time. He was out of the restaurant and into the Callahan’s in a moment, up the stairs the very second the grocer’s back was turned- and straight into his first problem. The door was locked, with a buzzer and intercom mounted on the wall; he’d probably need to think up a damn good excuse to get in at all. He paused for breath, then, pushing damp hair back into place as he considered his options. Problem: stigma of being a patient. Police authority is void. Play for sympathy…?
[For Mello!]