ArchivedLogs:Weird Biology

Weird Biology
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Marinov, Paige
In Absentia	2017-06-25 'Iolaus Saavedro', it says. '3rd International Conference on the Rising'.
Location <NYC> Central Park North
Central Park North is slightly quieter than its southern counterpart, being further uptown and slightly out of the bustle of the City - insofar as one can escape the bustle of the City even here, in the acres of green and blue that make up Central Park. The reservoir is in the northern half, providing miles of jogging and biking trails along the clear water, as well as benches for people to sit and rest. Nighttime has fallen on Central Park in the form of a warm darkness. Unfortunately, the park can never achieve full darkness due to the light from the 'city that never sleeps'. Either way, jogging in the black of night is not something done easily - though perhaps it is just as well since one such runner would most likely be quite embarrassed if seen during daylight. Indeed, for one whose feet have been hooves for a mere six months, Paige's performance would garner very little praise; it is often interrupted by lunges too big, steps too small, and the occasional stumbling and swearing. "Fuck this fucking shit. Shouldn't be so fucking hard," are words muttered under her breath, although they might not be go unnoticed by her companion. "These things are supposed to work with -four- legs, not two," comes an aggravated huff. "Heh, yeah, I know what you mean," remarks Marinov, occasionally reaching to help Paige to stabilize. For them, a nighttime run is little different than a daytime run, the relative changes of pitch being mostly negligeable to their feline eyes. Once in awhile, light catches them in the right way to shine off like coloured flashes. They are wearing a track suit, black with bright white stripes along the arms and legs. "My legs and arms are all weird so I run sorta better on all fours, but if I do that, people'll be like, 'oh no, a puma' and I'd get shot." Suede brown dress shoes step neatly along the side of the path as a figure makes its way towards Marinov and Paige, head turning from side to side -- not quite in the awe-struck motions of a tourist, but nor in the jaded thoughtlessness of a New Yorker. As the distance between them close, the man's eyes focus onto the two joggers curiously, blue-grey eyes flickering over them and watching their odd gait. Though the man is dressed sharply -- a midnight blue three-piece suit, replete with six buttons and an open mandarin collar to show off the thin grey tie done in an overlapping celtic knot -- a rather less formal conference badge on a thin plastic cord hangs over his chest. 'Iolaus Saavedro', it says. '3rd International Conference on the Rising'. Each time the felinoid teen assists Paige with her stumbles, they are given a grateful 'thank you.' "Yeah? That's kind of -- " she replies in between breaths as it would seem she is tiring a bit. "-- fucked up, right? Like what the fuck does this freaking gene think it's doing, Tay? Giving you arms -- " she lets out a worn chuckle. " -- and legs that are better for being a non-biped. Completely -- " Now she's slowing down incidentally as they come up near Iolaus. "-- inconsiderate, you know?" There's a wry friendly grin on her face as she glances towards Marinov, but this slowly disappears when she catches Iolaus watching them. "I dunno. I haven't paid as much attention in my genetics class as maybe I should've," remarks Marinov absently, "so I might've missed the chapter on whether genes can have a sense of cruelty. I can still run faster than any humans I know at least, though." They slow as well to match Paige's pace, head tilting slightly, "You alright?" They sniff lightly at the air and glance around uncertainly, the greenish glow of their eyes focusing on Iolaus. They say to Paige in hushed tones, "Is that business guy making you nervous?" A little smile plays about Iolaus' lips as he overhears the women's discussion, and though he politely breaks away his gaze to scan the horizon, it doesn't take long before his attention returns to the two mutants. "Forgive me," Iolaus says, suddenly, stopping on the path a few feet away from Marinov and Paige. "It's been some time since I've seen that particular kind of stumble." He nods once, eyes flicking over Paige's horns for a moment. "Hooves, I'm guessing?" "You're telling me. I was never very good at biology." Paige's speech is still broken by breaths of air and her jaw works before she shrugs to Marinov, whispering back, "Nothing I'm not used to by now." Still, her friend can likely smell that she is, indeed, a bit nervous. "Just. It's dark out, you know? Can never -- " Ears flicking up at Iolaus' interruption, the goat girl comes to a stop, holding an arm out to the side - a means of gently trying to stop Marinov as well. "Uh," is her brilliant response to the suited stranger. A glance is given down to her hooves. "Uh, yeah. What -- why?" It would seem her surprise and curiosity have outweighed her suspicion for the moment. Marinov stops at Paige's gesture, taking a couple of steps back. "Gotta get used to the feet you got," remarks Marinov, "Nothing wrong with stumbling." They cross their arms tightly around their stomach, sniffing again cautiously at Iolaus to try and get an a feel for the man in the suit. "I used to have a few patients who had hooved feet. It can take quite a bit of getting used to... and if they're not cared for properly, walking can be a big strain on your muscles." Iolaus says, voice slipping naturally into a neutral, almost professorial warmth. "Have you been trimming them down?" Iolaus' smile is a gentle one, eyes looking kindly over the two women -- like a prenaturally young grandfather. He lifts one foot slightly, balancing on a single foot and resting the tip of his other shoe on the ground behind its planted partner. Paige's brows pinch together as she regards Iolaus now with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. An absent-minded nod is given to Marinov in regards to their remarks. Though it is unlikely to be seen in the dark, the hooved mutant is blushing slightly and the teenager can likely catch a scent of embarrassment. "I, uh -- yes. I have a friend whose grandmother is ... uh, good with goats." Her gaze shifts to her friend, then back to the stranger. "Who did you, uh, say you were again?" The tilt of Marinov's head suggests a curiosity that their otherwise blank expression does not convey. "Yeah, I think that an introduction or something would be probably-" They glance towards Paige and then back at Iolaus, "A few patients with hooves? Are you some kind of, like, mutant doctor or something?" "Oh, lo siento, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Iolaus -- Iolaus Saavedro. And yes, I am a mutant doctor. Or, I used to be. I was a doctor at the Mendel Clinic before I moved down to Atlanta." Iolaus laughs briefly, shaking his head and pursing his lips. "I must have sounded quite mad, coming out of the dark and lecturing you about hoof health. My apologies," he says, with a hint of a bow. "Oh!" Tension eases out of Paige's shoulders as she lets her body relax. "Oh. I didn't -- Yeah, it's not often you meet a mutant doctor out in the park in the night, you know? I'm Paige," she offers with a friendly enough smile. "I've never -- the doctors I saw weren't really super familiar with hooves ... they gave me tips on physical therapy, but..." Here the young woman shrugs. "I mean." She reaches up and rubs at the back of her neck. "I could probably use pointers. I'm not very familiar with them myself. But this is kind of a weird place and time. Are you ... sure you are a doctor?" "I'm Marinov. Taylor Marinov. Yeah, I guess that makes more sense than you being some kind of random hoof enthusiast..." decides the felinoid youth. "My old doctors don't seem to know much about the details of mutant stuff either. I've been made sick by a prescription here and there... then they consulted with a fucking zoo vet and that was pretty embarrassing. Surprised more doctors aren't getting in on the exciting life of mutant medicine! You can accidentally kill your patients and there'd be no public backlash!" This last is said rather dourly. “Oh, there’s plenty of public backlash… just not for accidentally killing patients.” Iolaus says, cheerily enough. “Yes, I’m a real doctor. With all the letters after my name and everything.” The man flashes a thin smile with just a hint of white teeth. “You should both go to the Mendel Clinic. It’s… not what it once was anymore,” he says, shifting his weight from one leg to another uncomfortably. “But they are still better than anyone else out there, if you can get an appointment.” He hesitates for a moment then reaches into his shirt to tug out a slim silver case out of which he removes two business cards. “If you can’t get an appointment, email me. Not all of the staff hates me these days,” he says, with a sad smile, extending the cards towards both the women. ‘Iolaus Saavedro, M.D., Ph.D. Director, Division of Specially Designated Vectors, National Center for Emerging and Zoonotic Infectious Diseases, Centers for Disease Control.’ Eyes watching Marinov, Paige nods at their words. "I've called a few veterinarians myself, to be honest. They told me I shouldn't keep goats in my apartment, but sometimes -actually- gave me helpful advice. And ... yeah. There's always a, uh, risk of safety, you know? When the doctor doesn't know much about hooves, it kind of leaves you with an uneasy feeling when they suggest 'treatment'. 'Just keep walking on them'. Yeah, thanks, like I have a freaking choice, right?" The horned mutant lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes with this last piece. With a nod to Iolaus, she accepts one of the business cards. "Yeah, I've, uh, been there a few times, but it's like stupidly freaking hard to get an appointment, like you said. I mean, I don't even -- well, some things, but ... " Trailing off, she holds the card up to catch some light. Her expression shifts into confusion as she reads the doctor's title which leads to her next statement. "You're not ... a regular doctor, are you? Shit. Director?" A moment passes and she chews her lip before lowering the card. "You -- So you can really help with that? Getting an appointment? Shit. That would be kind of really freaking helpful," Paige comments with a sigh of relief and a small smile. "But why would they hate you?" Marinov takes the card and then move it closer and further from their face as they try to focus on it. "Wow, that's a lot of words that I don't know what they mean. You must be all kinds've educated..." They tuck away the card and tilt their head slightly. "I've heard of the Mendel Clinic. Though I just go to whatever doctors my parents can get, since it's their insurance paying and all, and there's specialists and stuff but... maybe I could add the Mendel Clinic people to the 'team', yeah? It'd be nice to have someone who knows how to deal with a mutant on the doctor team." Chuckling, Iolaus shakes his head and gives Paige a smile. "A regular doctor? I was a regular doctor for mutants for several years, but I'm not sure that makes me a /regular/ doctor." His smile doesn't fade, but the mirth in his eyes tempers. "I used to think I was a lot more famous and important than I was," he says, nodding his head as if reminding himself of the truth of his words. "But, yes, I do have some pull with the Mendel Clinic. I was the one who founded it. As for why I'm not the most popular around there... I'm also the reason that they've had to lay off half their staff." He lifts one hand, palm up, and then slowly lets it turn over and fall down to his waist. "Tres cuartos de lo mismo." Paige nods once Marinov finishes speaking and glances down at the card in her hand again. "Yeah, I've got, the cheapest health insurance offered in the state," she admits before looking up again, this time at Iolaus. "You -founded- it?" There's certainly a tone of astonishment in her voice as her ears briefly flick up. "Well, -thank- you. You know, for creating it. It's really -- I really appreciate the place." A moment of silence passes before the young woman appears suddenly struck by an idea. "Oh! Do you ... think you could recommend any doctors who have familiarity working with, uh, mutants like myself? I could probably use a stable doctor," she inquires with a hopeful smile. "Your name is sorta familiar, come to think of it," remarks Marinov, thought they seem to be having a difficult time quite placing it. "Founder of a mutant clinic, though, huh? That seems like a hard gig to get into, actually. Like, how do you operate on the digestive system of someone who eats just igneous rocks? Even dealing with my weird biology seems like it'd be a sorta hassle. What made you get into that? Are you a mutant?" "I trust any of the doctors at the Clinic to be able to take care of you properly. They're all good people, doing hard work. It was a challenge every day. We did some amazing medicine at the Clinic -- I'm sure they still are, there. It's no surprise to me at all that the cure for the Rising ended up coming out of that Clinic. Proudest moments of my life." Iolaus says, a nostalgic smile on his face. "All the more miraculous because of the circumstances. Still, you don't become a doctor because you want to do the same thing every day," Iolaus adds, shrugging his shoulders. "No, I'm not a mutant. Been tested for that over and over, because people just couldn't believe it. No, I was just a doctor who saw folks in need that weren't being treated." Iolaus chuckles, once, a quick exhale of breath. "That was all that mattered." "You'd think that breakthrough would get them grants enough to take on more staff and not be so bogged down or something, right?" Paige’s tone is slightly sardonic and she offers a shrug. "But, yeah, I don't -- some of the stuff -- I don't even -know- what's going in my body. It's so ... " Turning to Marinov, the goat girl poses in a hushed tone, "Did I tell you how I'm basically spiking a fever all the time? Either that or my thermometer is broken." "The cure for the rising? My ex had zombitis, so I guess I owe the clinic for his being alive and stuff," remarks Marinov idly. "You should be proud of that, though, 'cause like. That shit was fucking bad." They glance towards Paige, brows raising just slightly, but not hushing as much as she did, "Yeah? Join the club. If you're feeling alright, you probably just have a different temperature than humans. I'm a few degrees above, too. Weird biology and all that." “I am.” Iolaus says, nodding his head. “I worked with some fantastic people on it.” He hesitates, slightly. “Some who turned out to have a chequered past. But, we did good work. And now, it’s my job to make sure it never happens again.” He gives the two a wry look and chuckles. “Or, at least, keep Mother Nature from pulling that particular trick out of her hat again.” The doctor looks between the two women and nods once to himself. “Email me. I’ll make sure you get seen there. Was meaning to stop in anyway, see how things are doing.” Following the felinoid teen's remarks, Paige stares vacantly off to the side for a few moment while Iolaus speaks. At one point, her ears twitch and she returns her attention to the doctor and nods. "Here's to hoping you're successful. I was lucky not to be exposed to it the first times and I really don't think another outbreak is something we need right now, you know? Things are fucked up enough and keep getting shittier. Thanks for the help. You'll probably be seeing an email from me soon. It was, uh, nice to meet you."