ArchivedLogs:Prove It

Prove It
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Nox	2013-03-01 Nox visits Iolaus to have a chat.
Location <NYC> Mount Sinai Hospital - Harlem
On the cutting edge of many medical technologies, Mount Sinai Hospital is often ranked as one of the nation's best hospitals. The medical school attached is one of the best in the world, meaning that even your med students know what they are doing. Chin up, then -- when you come in here badly mutilated after the latest terrible catastrophe in Times Square, you're in good hands. The halls of Mount Sinai Hospital are never silent. At all hours, day and night, visitors, patients, nurses, residents, and doctors bustle through them, carrying them from waiting room to patient rooms, from surgery to post-op, from sickness to health. Hopefully. Further into the core of the hospital, though, the visitors, patients, and nurses fade away as the shift turns towards research. Buried in one lab is Doctor Saavedro, sitting on a stool and looking with a dark frown at a patient's MRI. Staring, really, thumb and index finger rubbing thoughtfully at his nose. He glances down at his watch, then at his pager, more a reflex than anything else as his staring continues immediately afterwards, just as if it had not been interrupted. This is not an area where patients or visitors may wander unattended, but Nox has her ways. It began at the front of the hospital, where the volunteers who staff the information desk politely (perhaps coolly) refused to direct her to the office of one Iolaus Saavedro, MD--but if she wished to see a doctor, they would happily refer her to the ER, where the triage nurses...but no. Nox, dressed in her homeless best, demurred and left. Only to return some moments later, without the clothing, and without a human shape. A hospital may never shut off its lights but there are always shadows. She slips through these, room to room, deeper and deeper into the hospital, peeking at badges, searching for her prey. When she finds him, when she pours herself beneath the door of one lab and lurks in the puddle of darkness beneath a work station, she simply watches him for a time. The staring, the way he rubs at his face, the attention to his pager. And then Nox makes her move. The woman flows into existence behind him, a grey silhouette with stars for eyes. "Doctor Saavedro. We need to talk." Iolaus quite literally falls off his stool, tumbling towards the ground. He straightens up smoothly from the floor, grabbing one of the lab benches to haul himself up quickly as he stares at her. He glances towards the door - locked - and then tilts his head slightly to one side. "I have been expecting violence, but not from mutants," he says, puzzlement in his voice as well as a trace of fear. "I guess I may have been in err." he says, eyes flickering up and down Nox. "I am quite sure you could do me significant harm before security gets here, so I will not make the mistake of threatening you with them." She waits until he's pulled himself up again before advancing on the man. Slow, almost gliding steps are used to carry her forward--and drive him back, if he wants to keep any distance between the two of them. "I have not offered violence yet, Doctor." The title is ashes in Nox's mouth. "A little bird has sung a song about a clinic being built. A clinic for people like me. A place to /help/ people like me. And so I've come to ask you about it." And to loom, apparently, though it creates a translucent effect--she really should have thought to turn the lights off before confronting him. "Harm is unnecessary, if you will tell me everything you can about this clinic." Iolaus laughs, suddenly, his face turning bemused. "Well, that's much more reasonable, then." he says, turning to strike a combination of keys on the keyboard. The MRI vanishes and is replaced with a simple screensaver of the logo of the hospital. He glances down at his pager, then turns to look at Nox. The confusion and fear on his face has been replaced with a calm, determined expression. "What would you like to know, and what have you heard?" he asks, leaning against the counter. Her hand goes for his wrist too late to stop the keystrokes. Instead, Nox slides herself between man and computer to drive him away from it. Grey is shifting towards black as her feet slide into the shadows beneath the desk he'd been using. She grows a little taller, a little more solid. "This is not a laughing matter, Doctor Saavedro. You'll tell me who you are working for. You will tell me where they are taken now, the people you steal. You will tell me where the cages are, Doctor." Confusion is back. Iolaus backs away from the computer, studying her carefully. "I'm not /working/ for anyone. I /founded/ the clinic. Founding, rather. It's little more than a hole in the ground right now... what the hell are you talking about?" he asks, eyes flicking over her face. "The people I /what/? Cages? What kind of doctor do you think I am?" Puzzlement flashes to anger in a moment, and he points a finger at Nox, accusingly. "You think I'm one of the doctors that kidnap mutants, don't you? They should be /hung/ for their crimes. How dare you accuse me of being one of them?" Finger-waggle, finger-waggle. The waggling finger is pushed aside and his wrist surrounded by shadow. Not a hand, Nox has made that disappear, but a bracelet of dark. She steps in closer to meet anger with the black on black of her eyes. They don't hold emotion well. Her whispering does a better job--there's a tremor in her voice. "What should I think? Doctors who are not mutants offering help. That is the lure. I'll help you, miss. I'll help you, just come with me. You'll be safe. What should I think? A clinic makes the perfect killing jar. How dare I? Someone said you were good but the ones who haven't seen the cages, they always hope for the best. Prove it." Iolaus' words are fiery, wrought in passion and anger. "My /proof/ is my struggle. You think they have to sue to get a building permit? You think they go from donor to donor, begging the money that the clinic needs to start?" He gives her a derisive look and an attempt at a shove. "I am not your enemy. I put my life on the line to do what's right. You may be able to hurt me, but you will /never/ sully the work that I am doing by equating it with that /filth/." His words are practically spat out, eyes flashing. Nox is difficult to shove. Where his hand goes, there's nothing but more shadow--which loops around that wrist as well. She has three arms now and the one not engaged in holding him still lifts to cup his cheek. "He is either a very good liar," she murmurs, "or he truly believes. They won't be funding his clinic yet. Later, perhaps. But not now. Watching? Do you know if they're watching you yet, Doctor?" With that last remark, finally addressed to him rather than a thought spoken out loud, Nox retreats. His wrists are released and she goes from standing before the desk to standing before the door. "How did you find out about them?" "I am no liar." Iolaus rubs at his wrists, reflexively, taking several deep breaths to steady himself before he responds. When he speaks, there is still a thread of controlled anger in his words, something crushed deep down that still struggles to shine through. "One patient talking about camps I might send for a psych eval. Two, with identical stories and no connection? Less likely." He shakes his head, taking a step towards his workbench to check a small kitchen timer sitting on it. Still another five minutes show on its face, and he looks back at Nox. "Were you held at one?" The question slides past her, either ignored or unheard. "Is that why you have decided to open your clinic? You are getting attention already, Doctor. People speak of it. Mention it, on the street. If they have not heard of it yet, they will soon. Idealists..." Nox follows his look, studying the timer before looking back into his eyes. She has yet to raise her voice. "I had to know. I apologize for the necessity." "Yes. And, no doubt, I will soon have to go about with a bodyguard for years to come." Iolaus says, turning his eyes on her and giving her a /look/. "If people are discussing it enough that you have hunted me down, then the time may very well have come for that. We have not yet gone public, but we are... anticipating it." He sounds more tired than angry, now, and he rubs at his forehead. "Next time, I suggest you just... make an appointment, or leave a message on my answering service." He glances up, flicking his eyes over her, once. "Does the light hurt you?" he asks, suddenly, curious. "I grieve for you." Except her tone, soft and polite as it is, suggests that she does not. Nox is slowly diminishing in size, no longer looming. Average, slightly below average, youthful...the gloom is increasing at the bottom of the door. The question earns him a small smile. "It's strange. Everyone I know asks that question eventually. Everyone I meet. Not one has failed to, even if they have yet to ask. You are wondering if a flashlight might cut me, maybe. How the men in white coats would keep a thing like me cage, perhaps. Whether blood can be drawn from my veins, whether I /have/ veins, if I bleed." Iolaus gives Nox a sad look. "No, actually. I was wondering if you would like me to turn down the lights," he says, quietly, as he watches his would-be attacker shrink in size and appearance. He leans back against the edge of his lab table, hands wrapped easily against the edge. Nox is silent. Then, slowly, with one hand--she only has two now and thank goodness for that--reaches out to the switches beside the door. Two are turned off, two remain on. "It is better, when it's dark," she admits. "They knew that. My room was not dark. Do you think, Doctor Saavedro, that they will try to turn you before someone tries to kill you? Your clinic...it could be a boon. The outstretched hand people so desperately want." "They might," Iolaus says, and a thin smile that still has a touch of sadness spreads on his lips. "They are better off trying to kill me. That is a more achievable goal." he says, glancing back at the timer. "Of course, I will make sure that they do neither. But that does not mean they will not try. The clinic is... a controversial matter, I am sure. For me, it is simple." he says, a small spark of passion lighting once more in his words. "Health care is a human right. It is that simple." "It is that simple, you're right. It is only that each has their own definition of human. I /am/ sorry that I had to frighten you, Doctor, in the name of semantics." Nox's head dips forward though her eyes remain fixed on him. "I wouldn't have hurt you. I took care." Iolaus considers this statement for a moment, then nods. "I suppose you are right about that." he says, softly. "Still. I prefer the definition that does not make me into a monster." His eyes search the deep black of Nox's own, and he shrugs his shoulders. "While I certainly did not enjoy it... I understand why you felt you had to." A pause. "This does not mean I will be so accepting the next time. Call, first." "Strange. I embrace the definition that makes me one." Nox's lips curl, the amusement shown of the less than sunny sort. Naturally. She tilts a hand at him, palm up, the gesture apologetic. "I regret I rarely have access to a phone, Doctor. Nor do I intend to trouble you often. To watch, perhaps, though I don't doubt your intentions. Now. Your timer, it is about to ring." Iolaus glances back at the timer and turns to his bench. As the timer begins to beep, there is a loud screeching sound that comes from a circular white piece of lab equipment, and Iolaus opens the lid to quickly lift several small plastic vials out of it. He transfers them to a little rack with holes in it, unscrews and removes their caps, and places this into another machine. As he works, he continues speaking. "Well, if you don't have a phone, you can always ask for me to be paged at the front desk. Or borrow one of theirs." "To be paged. I will remember." Nox's whispering is easily lost under the noise of the machine. She falls silent after that. So silent, in fact, that the next time he chances to look at the door, the woman seems to have gone. /Without/ turning the lights back on. Iolaus turns to glance when she falls silent, and he gives a puzzled look at the empty space. "It was good to meet you?" A note of amusement is in his voice, and he glances around the room for a moment. Then he turns back to his lab equipment, shaking his head. "Alright. Gotta call Jane in the morning..." he murmurs, to himself.