Nick(?) of Time [02]

[ghostshield]

He can distantly make out the figures around him through the haze of whatever it is they've injected into his bloodstream; they have the white coats and the equipment of doctors, for certain, but there's something off. Maybe it's the way they carry themselves, or the hushed manner in which they talk

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[bluebrainiac]

Amber gasps as the door is open, but she darts forward to grab the nearest weapon she can find. It turns out to be a scalpel, which she just clutches determinedly at. It feels almost right in her hand, almost useful. Almost.

But she's at a loss for how to fight these people if she needs to, so she just holds it up as threateningly as she can. "Alright! What's going on here?"

[ghostshield]

The figures stop what they're doing and turn towards Amber in unison. They confer for a bit in quiet tones. Then one moves towards her, one hand holding the knife at his side, the other held up. Reassuring, or something else? They sure don't look friendly.

She'd better react fast.

[bluebrainiac]

She holds the scalpel in front of her like a weapon, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. "What's going on? I want answers, now! Please."

[ghostshield]

The stranger doesn't respond; it's nearly upon her now. This one goes to sleep like the others; it'll be a quick matter of reprogramming and she won't even remember any of this existed.

Greg hears the voice, singular compared to the others. He sees the vague shape of one approaching her, arm extended. nows your chance dont let them put her to sleep

He musters some will through his addled mind, and... barks?

Well, it's an odd reaction, but it's a distraction, of sorts. The strangers turn to look at him as one; if he is waking up, they need to finish him off as soon as possible, but this new girl could also be a bother...

[bluebrainiac]

She doesn't like the look they're giving that barking man, not at all. She doesn't want to hurt anyone, but it -- She thinks of the man she met at the carnival. They're not bad people, they don't deserve to be tortured. "You will stop!" She shouts, driving the scalpel into the man's shoulder. It's aimed not to kill, not to maim, but to prove that she is extremely serious and will be listened to.

[ghostshield]

She stabs one, but the group suddenly scream in chorus, a horrible, bone-chilling scream as each grabs their shoulder in the same point as the one she stabbed. They seem frozen in pain; as horrible and distracting as that sound is, now is definitely the time to bail the poor guy on the table.

There are words on the wall beside Greg: "The dead speak truth." What could THAT mean? Not that he's in any condition for reading.

[bluebrainiac]

"This is not how doctors are supposed to act! I'm sure you don't have any proffesional pride at all, but actually being some kind of monster demeans the very existence of the Doctor's Oath!"

She's grabbing Greg, tucking the scalpel into her belt, and trying to drag him as she speaks, but these people do need to understand their faults.

[ghostshield]

If he were in any condition to say something, he'd point out the futility of that sort of thing; as it is, he's barely in any condition to walk, let alone run. Perhaps...

oh hay thar wheelchair, how are you? How convenient.

[bluebrainiac]

She throws Greg ungracefully into the chair and starts pushing as fast as she can, headed for the door. "And try wearing hair, would you!"

[ghostshield]

The doctors don't seem to appreciate her advice. In fact, they look like they're beginning to recover. It's definitely a good time to get out of Dodge. Or at least find a hiding place.

Greg's moaning a bit; obviously he's not too out of it, and may be slowly emerging from the effects of the drug. But there's not time to waste on that front.

[bluebrainiac]

She opens a random door and pushes him inside. It can't possibly be a worse place to hide, right?

[ghostshield]

They seem to have stumbled across SOMEBODY'S office, at any rate. Shelves and cabinets line the walls, and a desk is at the other end. There is just enough room under the desk for some folks to hide.

[bluebrainiac]

She rolls him out of the chair and under the desk, then runs to shut the door. She throws open the cabinets for a brief look around, running through the inventory. There has to be something worth having here. She grabs anything that looks sharp or even moderately useful. She takes a syringe, also, in case she needs bargaining materials. "I'm trying to get weapons." She says to the man, unsure if he'll understand her.

[ghostshield]

"Mrrrrgl. Waaaaa..." Is his only reply. Uh, sure.

The files seem to be on various patients. Nobody she'd recognize... maybe? Though a couple of names may seem oddly familiar.

...also, apparently someone's hiding their booze habit in one of these drawers. What the HELL.

[bluebrainiac]

She grabs the bottle on reflex, shaking past the names in the files. They strike a chord somewhere in her mind, but there's no time for it now. "I don't suppose drinking would sober you up?"

[ghostshield]

Mixing drugs and booze is bad, mmkay? But he's working on that whole "coming back to the realm of the living thing," he really is. In fact, he's awkwardly trying to get up now.

*FLUMPH*

VERY awkwardly.

There are footsteps coming from down the hall.