The Lab, FTEC, Monday Night [NFB]
Natalie sat back from the microscope, lowering herself onto the stool. On the glass slide, a small sample of her vampiric blood was actively being changed by an enzyme that, like Lytoveuterine-B, hadn't existed all that long ago; it was the direct result of the advancement of modern medical science. Unlike the Lytoveuterine-B, however, this substance was designed for human use -- and not as a means to "enhance beef production." She hoped this would mean good things for tolerance of the drug. After seeing what the bovine hormone treatment did to Nick years ago, it was a result she didn't want to repeat herself.
Her eyes drifted over from the microscope to the small vial sitting on the counter. And it was exactly that memory which caused her hesitation now, despite the desperate longing she felt for a cure. Two days on the artificial hormone had sent Nick around the bend: He had been more strung out than the worst junkie she'd ever seen brought into the precinct. If she and Schanke hadn't intervened, it was very likely he would have killed himself -- or someone else -- as a result of the medication.
She, on the other hand, was alone here; Nick was in Toronto, still. Would anyone be there to stop her from stepping off the edge, if this had the same affect?
"Classic risk versus reward, Nat, m'girl," she thought aloud. Reaching out, she grasped the vial. "Just how bad do you want to eat french fries again?"
It was a question she didn't have to ask twice. Consequences or no, she had to find out if this worked.
Moving very slowly, very methodically, she removed her lab coat and rolled up the sleeve of her oxford shirt. She then tied off her arm with a section of rubber tubing, watching as her veins rose to the surface. Nat then unwrapped a syringe, discarding the wrapper distractedly. Her attention was focussed on the small, glass vial.
The injection itself was nothing. She felt a small prick -- not unlike when she had been mortal -- after which she eased the liquid into her vein. A warmth spread slowly from the injection site, up her arm and to the chambers of her slowly beating heart, then was pumped, with her blood, through the rest of her body. Her vision swam, her grip faltered, and the syringe clattered to the floor...only a few seconds before she, herself, did.
Darkness encroached but couldn't claim her; she was fighting too hard to stay awake. Have to... record side effects, she thought.
And then she felt the explosion in her chest as her heart, so accustomed to beating only a few times per hour, staggered to beat once, twice...slowly regaining the rhythm she had been accustomed to in life. Her vision cleared, too; gone were the infrared images that had been part of her life for ten years. She looked on the lights in the clinic seeing, for the first time, the bright florescent white light that hummed overhead.
She was cured!
Laughter bubbled up deep within her, giddy as it had been when she was a school girl, bursting forth like water behind a dam.
And then her stomach growled.
She laughed harder. "Okay, okay," she said through her giggles. "We'll go find food!" Sitting up, she looked at the lab. "As soon as I clean up my mess."
There would be time later, she reasoned, to record her observations.
[Open for comment or a bit of interaction.]
Her eyes drifted over from the microscope to the small vial sitting on the counter. And it was exactly that memory which caused her hesitation now, despite the desperate longing she felt for a cure. Two days on the artificial hormone had sent Nick around the bend: He had been more strung out than the worst junkie she'd ever seen brought into the precinct. If she and Schanke hadn't intervened, it was very likely he would have killed himself -- or someone else -- as a result of the medication.
She, on the other hand, was alone here; Nick was in Toronto, still. Would anyone be there to stop her from stepping off the edge, if this had the same affect?
"Classic risk versus reward, Nat, m'girl," she thought aloud. Reaching out, she grasped the vial. "Just how bad do you want to eat french fries again?"
It was a question she didn't have to ask twice. Consequences or no, she had to find out if this worked.
Moving very slowly, very methodically, she removed her lab coat and rolled up the sleeve of her oxford shirt. She then tied off her arm with a section of rubber tubing, watching as her veins rose to the surface. Nat then unwrapped a syringe, discarding the wrapper distractedly. Her attention was focussed on the small, glass vial.
The injection itself was nothing. She felt a small prick -- not unlike when she had been mortal -- after which she eased the liquid into her vein. A warmth spread slowly from the injection site, up her arm and to the chambers of her slowly beating heart, then was pumped, with her blood, through the rest of her body. Her vision swam, her grip faltered, and the syringe clattered to the floor...only a few seconds before she, herself, did.
Darkness encroached but couldn't claim her; she was fighting too hard to stay awake. Have to... record side effects, she thought.
And then she felt the explosion in her chest as her heart, so accustomed to beating only a few times per hour, staggered to beat once, twice...slowly regaining the rhythm she had been accustomed to in life. Her vision cleared, too; gone were the infrared images that had been part of her life for ten years. She looked on the lights in the clinic seeing, for the first time, the bright florescent white light that hummed overhead.
She was cured!
Laughter bubbled up deep within her, giddy as it had been when she was a school girl, bursting forth like water behind a dam.
And then her stomach growled.
She laughed harder. "Okay, okay," she said through her giggles. "We'll go find food!" Sitting up, she looked at the lab. "As soon as I clean up my mess."
There would be time later, she reasoned, to record her observations.
[Open for comment or a bit of interaction.]