ArchivedLogs:Medical Advice

Medical Advice
Dramatis Personae Micah, Lucien, Daniel Ketch, Matt	27 October 2014 '
Location <NYC> The Mendel Clinic - Lower East Side
With its sharp crystalline edges and sleek lines knifing up into the sky, this building is one of the most /distinctive/ new additions to the neighborhood. An angular structure in glass and steel, the tall tower has a deceptively slender look to it that is belied by the heavy security as soon as you enter the doors. The front doors are frosted with the Clinic's logo -- a rising sun over a rod of Asclepius -- a motif echoed in many places throughout the building. Visitors to the clinic must first pass through a small mantrap, guarded by some of the Clinic's security guards; once they make it through the metal detector and airlock's double doors they emerge into the much more hospitable lobby. With dark wood floors underneath and comfortable black and red couches at its edges, the high windows give the room an airy feel. A bank of elevators to one side carry visitors to the many destination floors, while the wide welcome desk at the other side is manned by a security guard ready to help point visitors in the right direction. There is a bit more /bustle/ at the Clinic this late in the day, people rushing in for that last appointment slot after work. Micah is on his way out with a navy rolling suitcase, a pair of neutral tone fibreglass casts of feet (plus shins, about up to the knees) sticking out of the top. The image is odd enough, a little like someone might be folded up inside the bag with their toes hanging out. He is dressed typical for a workday, though his is happily coming to an end: TARDIS blue polo shirt, khakis, serviceable shoes, and auburn hair working its way into a muss. A soft, subconscious hum, too quiet to really make out a tune, buzzes from his throat as he strides across the open floor. There's a tune on Lucien's lips, too, here in the lobby -- though he's entering, rather than leaving, caught up in the security checkpoint to go through the mantrap-metal detector before he actually makes it into the lobby. The guard on duty today, skinny and pale and small and not looking particularly intimidating, doesn't ask many questions of him as he does with other visitors -- a testament perhaps to how often Lucien has been here. He's dressed more formally than Micah, elegantly tailored grey suit and tie. The song he sings under his breath is more identifiable, /Cabaret/'s "Tomorrow Belongs to Me". The young man /meeting/ him in the lobby is a good deal less put-together -- Matt is in scuffed frayed jeans, a grey-green hoodie tossed on over a t-shirt featuring an image of Coyote from Gunnerkrigg Court. Shorter than Lucien, darker-haired, boyish face lit in a bright smile in contrast to the grimmer-harder lines of Lucien's face, the family resemblance shows very little except in the bright green eyes the brothers share. The shorter of the two is just emerging from an elevator, beelining across the lobby for Lucien until he sees Micah there and reroutes instead to practically /pounce/ the other man in a hug from behind. "Heyyyy whoa whose body do you have there?" Daniel enters a bit quietly, eyes moving around the clinic a touch nervously. He stops a bit to look over at the small group before shaking his head a bit. "Why did I let that little shark talk me into coming here," he grumbles slightly before digging a few papers out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He's probably the least formal of everyone, leather jacket with matching gloves, a wildly inappropriate 'Dwarves' shirt, and slim black jeans. Micah is /just/ catching sight of Lucien as Matt pounces him, the mouth opened to offer greeting instead giving an undignified /squeak/ at sudden Person on top of him. The familiar voice that follows relaxes his bunched muscles, his body immediately leaning back into the hug instead of considering flight. He twists a little to regard the man behind him with a widening smile. "Hey, Matt. Didn't know y'were here. Guess that's why Luci's..." there, apparently, where his hand is gesturing near the door. "An' no body. Just feet. Well, not even feet. Moulds of feet. Promise I left the parts on the people." "Feet. Huh. Guess everyone has their Things." Matt squeezes Micah tighter, firm and strong before releasing to /continue/ his path and loop an arm around Lucien's waist for Second Hug. Lucien /tolerates/ the hug moreso than actually reciprocating it, halting where he walks and halting his singing to stand still momentarily before he disengages. "As /Things/ go that is hardly a radical one. Micah. Good day. -- How did it go?" This last part is directed, evidently, to Matt -- Though Matt is asking kind of /simultaneously/ of his brother: "How did it go?" Ultimately neither of them /answer/ the other. Lucien's lips twitch, his hands curling loosely about his chest. "I am here for dinner," he tells Micah, "or I will be, shortly. We are getting Indian, if you care to --" He trails off with an upward tip of his hand, invitation implied. Matt, meanwhile, is peering across the lobby, shoulders giving a very faint shiver as Daniel enters. "Heyyy," his greeting is just as bright for this stranger as it was for Micah, "do you need help you look a little -- lost?" This offer comes, largely /also/ simultaneously -- though this time with the guard by the door, his voice quiet and rather stammery as he works through a stuttering, "C-c-can I h-h-help you? Find. Something?" "Actually, yes." Daniel admits, looking between Matt and the guard. "Had a question about some of the stuff offered here.. Shane, guy I met at Evolve suggested this place. But I don't know if the therapy and stuff is what I need. Think he thought it was spousal abuse.. Even though I'm single." he admits, though he's rambling. He catches himself and runs a hand through his hair before tucking the papers back into his jacket. "Hey, I only came with /one/ factory issue. The matching sets're novel." Micah's smile twitches into a lopsided grin, apparently game to play along with the brothers' teasing. "Seriously, though, /you/ singin' that song's a little creepy, Tall Blonde Young Man," he pokes back at Lucien as he leaves off his singing. "Indian sounds delightful. Just the mention usually gives me chutney cravin's. How did what go?" That's offered fairly equally to them both. His eyebrows raise in tandem at Matt's shiver, glancing over at the man being addressed. "Hello. Um. Couldn't say for sure what it is you're lookin' for, but there's a pretty good psychology an' psychiatry staff here, if that's the kinda therapy you're meanin'." "Luci had an audition," Matt explains, at the same time as Lucien answers, "Dr. Toure was torturing Matt." "Only a little torturing." Matt shivers again, though this time it's more visibly discomfited. "And it went..." He bites down on his lip, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. He doesn't finish answering this, again, instead looking over towards Daniel. "All the -- therapy stuff is, um," he snaps his fingers and points an index finger towards the elevators. "Fourth floor. Behavioral Health. And they are -- really good here." "Why did you come," Lucien wonders in a more detached tone than his brother, softly accented voice slipping into something more neutral, "if you do not think it is what you need?" Daniel lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. "Don't know where else to go. I need a little help to be able to control my mutation, and I was wondering if there was any places around here that could help," he admits a bit reluctantly. "Is anything like that offered here? Or am I more on my own?" "Oh, lovely! What was the audition for?" Matt gets his return hug a little belatedly, at the return of his shivers. "Everyone has their Things," Micah attempts to lighten the mood with teasing again, at the assurance of 'a little' torture. "There are a lotta ways that they can help here, yes. Depends what exactly you're needin'. Help with handlin' how the mutation affects you'n your life? Behavioural health. How it affects you physically? Might wanna work out a primary care doc here. Which honestly ain't a bad idea either way. As far as...honin' control of abilities t'get better at usin' 'em...that's less of a medical issue an' might not be as well served here." Lucien's mouth hooks juuust a little upward, green eyes canting briefly to Micah. "Pippin." At the mention of controlling his mutation, the brothers exchange a Look, Matt's lips twitching faintly up while Lucien's clamp down into a mild grimace. "Yeah, I -- I mean /controlling/ your mutation that covers a huge range of things? But there are therapists here who'll work with your care team to help -- uhm -- manage? Mutations that are interfering with your life. Or functioning." Matt shrugs one shoulder, tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt. "I think it's kind of weirdly lumped in with, like, physical therapy just right now -- there hasn't really /been/ a medical field dedicated to helping mutants function normally." "Perhaps," Lucien adds mildly, "because when it comes to mutants /normal/ is practically meaningless." "Pfft, it's meaningless for /everyone/," Matt replies, "but I think things like not exploding your house or seizuring yourself to death are kind of, you know, good baselines." Daniel turns his attention to the brothers, watching them for a moment. "I won't say you don't understand, because I don't know. But...I think having doctors look at me and make sure it isn't like...killing me would be nice." He looks back over at Micah. "I mainly just want to be able to have more influence over him, that's all. I don't want him hurting anybody else. And I don't think there is anywhere I can go for that. “Of course,” Micah's grin echoes Lucien's, if less subtly, as the audition is named. “Definitely y'might wanna go t'intake an' set up a new patient appointment for primary care. They can check out your general health an' make more referrals from there. Try t'keep everyone as safe an' sound as possible.” "We have conversed with you for all of thirty seconds," Lucien answers Daniel, "of course we do not understand." "Luci's actually a robot," Matt explains more brightly, "he doesn't understand /most/ problems with being human." "I would say this is distinctly not a problem with being /human/." There's a quiet rustle of dress shirt as Lucien's arms cross loosely against his chest. "The doctors here can look at you, certainly. They have," something tightens barely even noticeably at the corners of his eyes, "quite a bit of experience with people whose mutations are killing them. If there is issue with yours, they can come up with a plan." Daniel nods once, frowning slightly. "Make it sound like those labs I heard about," he mutters lightly. "But, thank you. I'll see about getting an appointment.. Assuming the rooms are reinforced? I'm not overly fond of breaking things." His attention moves fully to Lucien now, considering the robot statement. Micah's head shakes firmly at the mention of labs. “Not in the least bit. Folks here are intendin' t'/help/ an' everythin' is entirely voluntary. On your own terms an' for your own benefit.” A soft touch of smile returns after this. “There are rather impressive quarantine rooms. The intake specialists can get your information an' accommodate your particular needs accordin'ly.” "I once saw this building withstand a rather spectacular explosion. A carpet of viscera outside and barely a scratch to the actual building." There's not much to /contradict/ the robot accusation, here; Lucien delivers this observation in the same flat-neutral tone even as his brother shudders and wraps his arms tightly around his chest. Matt, too, shakes his head quite firmly at the talk of labs. "It's nothing like those." In contrast to his previous cheery-warmth, this statement is /terse/. His fingers curl in against his bicep, tone easing back into friendly: "You're kind of running up on the end of the day, now, but you could always call tomorrow and see about an appointment?" Daniel nods once. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Hopefully I don't end up on the news or something. Thank you guys, sorry I was interrupting." He flashes a warm enough smile, but something is clearly worrying the male. A hand moves up to touch lightly at his temple. "It's about that time anyway." “Just take it easy, get your appointment set up. Things should be okay. It's unlikely that gettin' a physical will be newsworthy.” Micah lifts a hand as the other man seems to be heading off. “Have a good night. An' good luck findin' what you're lookin' for.” Lucien's brows hook upward. "What were you interrupting?" His bland tone doesn't actually sound particularly interested in having this question /answered/, more passing idle remark than anything else. "That time?" Matt actually /does/ sound more genuine in his concern, brows briefly furrowing. "I mean, if something's wrong right /now/ they /do/ keep kind of a -- skeleton crew of emergency staff on hand for, um," his nose wrinkles up as he finishes awkwardly, "uh, emergencies." There is a certain pain to Daniel's features now. He remains silent for a few more moments, eyes closed tightly. "No." he finally says quietly, "I just need air," before turning and promptly heading back for the exit. He doesn't make it before he stops once more though, both hands coming up to cover his face in a similar fashion to if he had a migraine. “Okay...” Micah doesn't press the issue when Daniel insists he has to leave. He did /mean/ that part about treatment at the Clinic being voluntary. His brow furrows as the man stops again on his way out. “Maybe we /should/ get the emergency staff t'see to 'im?” Lucien shrugs a shoulder, glancing only briefly at Daniel and then turning back to the other two. "He says he just needs air. He is /in/ a Clinic, if /he/ wants a doctor there are plenty available. And a plethora of guards /paid/ to tend the clientele here." Matt fidgets, weight shifting from one foot to the other restlessly. His teeth dig against his lip, then relax. His brow stays furrowed, though. "I guess..." His fingers scuff through his hair, head shaking as his other arm wraps again against his chest. His fingers press harder against his bicep again, one eye squeezing tighter shut. There's nothing, really, flashy about his powers -- not really even anything overt enough to the person he is using them /on/. His fingers come up, too, to rub at his temple (much as though he had a migraine!) and in Daniel there's a sort of -- calm. Physically more than emotionally, an /unclenching/ that reins his mutation back down to a quietly /controllable/ level. Matt drops his hand, shaking his head again. "Indian. Right." He plucks at Lucien's jacket sleeve as he starts for the door -- commenting quietly in passing to Daniel, though: "-- They open again here at seven tomorrow. You should really stop by. Or call. They can help, maybe." Daniel exhales slowly, pushing back up to his full height. "I don't exactly have a place I call home yet...You mentioned secure rooms? Would it be possible to use them as an impromptu holding cell?" He turns back around to look at the trio. "I have a feeling somebody might get hurt if I walk out of here tonight." He shifts a bit, moving back so they don't have to raise their voices to talk to him. Micah nods at Lucien's admonishment, rather taking it for granted that he was being too fussy in other people's business /again/. "Okay. Right. Other people's jobs t'actually deal with..." his eyes trace back to the man, even as he follows after the brothers. Daniel's direct question stops him in his tracks. "Ohgosh, I don't really...know. I'm just a contractor here, so it's really not my space an' I don't know how they handle these things. Let me flag one of the guards to assist on that one..." Glancing around for a moment, Micah manages to catch the eye of one of the guards on duty who is not actively working with someone else and waves him over. Lucien rests his fingers against the back of Matt's hand, slightly more tense with the contact. "I would not know," he answers Daniel, head giving a small shake, "neither of us work here. Speak with someone who --" He tips his hand out towards the approaching guard. "Does." Matt turns his hand up and over, closing fingers around his brother's. "You'll be okay. At least till tomorrow." Though this is followed up with an uneasy frown and a half-step back. "Unless you're /planning/ to hurt someone. But you'll be fine till -- I don't know. Till you talk to – someone." Daniel nods a few times. "Alright. Thank you. And, I don't plan on it. My name is Daniel, by the way. Daniel Ketch." He fishes a phone out and checks the time before returning it to his pocket. "I should be off. It's a long ride back to where I'm crashing." "Okay. Um. Have a good night, then," Micah replies. "Nice t'meet you. An' y'can call here if y'do decide t'look for help. I'm Micah. But like I said, I'm only here sometimes." The guard looks a little confused as to why he's been brought over, eyebrows rising in question and look aimed at Micah. The redhead gives an apologetic shrug, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks as he /mouths/ 'apologies', as well. "G'night." This time the words are louder, to encompass the guard, too, perhaps, and he hurries off after the Tessiers. "Okay. Just -- take care, alright? Be -- safe." There's genuine concern in Matt's voice, worried glance cast after Daniel. Lucien -- less so. A brief polite tip of his head in acknowledgment, a soft, "Take care," that sounds more like pleasantry than concern. He lifts fingers to his forehead in a casual-lazy salute to the guard, and ushers his brother firmly out the door.