Katherine Williams (kitty_fangs) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-02-21 05:15:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | katherine williams, radek jeppersen |
Vampire Egyptian Mummy
Who: Katherine/Radek.
Where: Radek's.
What: An encounter with a hunter leaves Katherine so injured, even self-healing ability isn't quite sufficient and medical assistance is sought after.
Warnings: References to sexual assault.
Even as a vampire, the kind of unlife Katherine Williams led was hardly without its risks. Part of it was a hedonistic nature which had, over the decades, grown up around the militant vampiress, but it went deeper than that. Went to the core of how she had come to be turned. It had given the brunette a deep-seated need to keep proving things to herself. To take on a challenge just to show that she could.
That was why she competed in the Vegas arena famed for its inhuman contestants and audiences, alike. Katherine never held back, exploited any weakness there was and created a few new ones where possible. What injuries the murderous vampiress succeeded in inflicting were as vicious as she could make them, because she never expected anything less from an opponent in return.
That and knowing, if they ever met out on the street, she needed to give them a deterrent to remember her by.
That hadn't been responsible for the injuries suffered tonight, but it was why she had dumped herself in a taxi, sending herself to one of the better medics on call for the Seventh Circle. The telephone call had been through gritted teeth, such was the pain; establishing her situation, before being given the address.
It was only the alcohol in the bottle she was drinking from, which dulled her senses sufficiently to make it over there. The fluid ran slick down fangs, over chin and she yowled like a growling wildcat, seriously tempted to smash the container open and gut the driver with it, just to gorge herself on his life-giving crimson essence.
But it wasn't like the movies. So few things were. Vampiric healing factor could only go so fast and quaffing down a liquid lunch wouldn't accelerate it quick enough for what she needed.
Reaching the property signalled Katherine turning the air blue with her usual inventive talent for cursing, as she bundled herself out into a half-standing heap. Dollar bills, streaked with blood, were handed over and the vehicle drove off, leaving Katherine to ungainly weave her way around the side of the property for the door into the pool house. In truth, the cover for a private medical facility.
She looked a sight... An attempted staking had caused a deep, gaping wound in her chest, while flesh had been burned away by a magical device from one arm, leaving it more exposed skeletal bone than anything else. An artery in her leg had, thankfully, now sealed, but earlier damage to it had only added to the loss of blood. Several deep slashes had been made with a knife across the abdomen, which had superficially healed, but were still quite visible.
If the way she was swigging at the bottle to deal with the pain was any indication, the vampire's blood content was probably 50% proof. Her undead heart might not beat, but whatever magical energies caused scarlet fluids to flow around the woman's body had certainly contributed to a lot of it being left elsewhere, tonight.
No wonder she was involuntarily shaking with cold.
At least her intestines were no longer threatening to spill over the ground.
"I really gotta' start writing more strongly-worded letters in future," the vampire deadpanned, sounding about as close to collapse as she looked. The mostly skeletal arm was useless, only loosely still held together and half-cradled by the one still holding the bottle. "I'm either about to piss myself or hurl and I can't even tell the difference no more..."
Nope. Out it came. You hadn't quite seen vomit until witnessing a vampire bringing up their last intake of blood.
Radek witnessed her arrival on the CCTV system installed at various points on the property, plus at some surreptitious points along Dragon Ridge Drive itself. After the call he’d prepared the ‘pool house’ for a new arrival, the obligatory white lab coat donned and stethoscope in place around his neck. He’d done his regular check of the cabinets for all supplies and the cooler for blood types, making a mental note he should place an order the following day. The door was again secured, easily accessible with biometric data, but locked from any others trying to access supplies without his consent. The mellow chime advised him the vehicle had arrived in the cul-de-sac and he moved across to the entrance.
From the outside of the perimeter wall it was simply a door recessed into an alcove to provide protection from any inclement weather for both the intercom system and the new arrivals. But the gait of the new arrival, along with the obvious injuries he could identify at a distance, had him starting to open the door before the intercom was activated. His nose did twitch at the sight of the projectile vomiting taking place and he sighed softly, glad the drainage system installed during construction was quite adequate.
“Someone is in a bad way,” he murmured, giving the screen just inside the door a final look before crossing the threshold. He had seen injuries that were ‘incompatible with life’ on more occasions than he cared to recall and this was another of those. Which confirmed his suspicions she was not in fact human, just humanoid. As he stepped outside he sidestepped the mess she’d created and angled his head slightly. “Let’s get you inside,” he said perfunctorily, having decided there would be time for small talk later. Without hesitating he plucked the bottle from her arm, deciding he didn’t want shattered glass added to the mess already there. With it stashed under one arm, the other around her waist, he held the elbow of her relatively intact arm and guided her inside.
His hands felt the cool touch of skin, shock a possible cause and blood loss possibly explaining the pallor of her skin. He wondered if the stethoscope would be necessary and briefly wondered about Derek, how the young vampire was faring and whether he was going to be visiting for attention again any time soon.
“First things first, what are your ‘allergies’?” He asked as they staggered in the doorway.
Before they had entered, Katherine managed to say something about needing an invitation if this was considered private property. If he was only humouring her when giving it, the response she gave to his question would verify she wasn’t joking.
“I get dozy in sunlight, someone tried staking me and blood-loss makes me hungry… How’s that for allergies, Doc?” There was a groan which accompanied her shifting of weight, hobbling through the doorway. Katherine didn’t care whether she was helped to a chair or gurney, but standing up wasn’t something she wanted to continue with, for the time being. “Look, we both know what I am, I just need something to take the pain away and… Make sure I don’t heal funny and… ARGH! Fucking…”
Could she truly leave it at that? That would be a very technical maybe, but doing so probably wouldn’t be very advisable.
“And I take it you’re not a fan of fire in close proximity,” Radek mumbled as they stumbled across the short distance to the examination table. “I suspect you’re glad we use electricity now for lighting,” he continued as with some ease after much practice he levered her up onto the examination table. He himself had taken many decades to again sit comfortably within the warm radius of a fire after his first death. It had been an element that contributed to his changing and he still to this day treated it with great respect. “Or swords, for that matter,” he added, almost as an afterthought to himself in response to his original question as he ran through his knowledge of the species. All the while his eyes scanned over her, studying her injuries.
The lack of blood flowing from the wounds was all the confirmation he needed. For most species with flesh of this colouration, there would be at least some flow, of some fashion, but the lack of a pump in the system of a vampire always left it to mere seepage. Especially from the wound at the centre of her chest. And the abdomen. Though the leg wound appeared to be rather close to the femoral artery.
A pair of shears used by paramedics to remove clothing quickly and safely had appeared in his hand from the pocket of his coat, the black T-shirt being cut to reveal the full extent of the damage to the torso. “Ah good, your healing has perhaps saved your… Unlife?” He murmured, pausing for the first time to look at her face.
That injury in the vampire’s chest might not be gushing, but it was gaping. The separated clothing immediately around it was damp and sticky, to say nothing of what little flesh still remained on the mostly skeletal arm. It was only because of being burned away that the nerve endings to it were deadened, but elsewhere they weren’t. Once meat properly began to knit back, the capacity for sensation would gradually reassert itself, too.
Right now, Katherine might not be in immediate danger of dying like a human patient, but that didn’t make her any less of a wreck.
Thankfully, she was still mostly inebriated. It made her pained flailing slower, unfocused, less likely to impulsively strike out at the one tending to her glaring wounds.
“Add reality TV to the list, while you’re at it,” she drunken vampiress cast out, glad to at least no longer be at the mercy of gravity. Dark hair splayed over the stretcher, but pain still stung at her like an angry nest of jellyfish and boots slammed backwards as she hissed in venomous outrage. “Jesus… This is where thinking of going legit gets me,” she lamented with a sneer of despairing contempt. “You’re not a serial killer in disguise, are ya’? ‘Cause the way tonight’s going…”
Assessing the damage to the body presented was a diagnostic skill Radek had perfected in the wars of the early 18th century, when it commonly meant the difference between a patient’s survival, or their demise. His fingers continued to explore the areas his eyes examined, the frown furrowing his forehead deepened as he examined her arm, or at least the remains of it. If nothing else it would be interesting to observe the regeneration of another species’ flesh, comparing it to that of his own kind, which he’d had ample opportunity to observe in the numerous students he had taken under his wing.
“Not currently,” he replied, his attention now on the wounds in her abdomen and leg. As he’d surmised initially, the blood loss had fortunately been stemmed by her own body’s abilities, but he suspected replenishment would be slow given both the amount lost and the sheer volume of regeneration of flesh that would be needed. “Tonight it will be the skill of suturing that will be practiced,” he continued, nodding, “but first you need something to….” He looked down at the bottle still tucked under his arm and removed it, glancing at the level of the contents before placing it on the trolley beside him. “...replenish your fluids with something less alcoholic. Wait here.”
Turning on his heel he crossed to the cooler, provided it with the required biometrics, then withdrew four of the sachets of full bloods. “Probably not your preferred temperature, but beggars can’t be choosers,” he continued as he returned after securing the door again.
Not currently, huh? There were at least three ways to take that, but Katherine was now largely beyond subtlety. There was a temptation to demand whether or not he had some sort of vampire-compatible healing accelerant, but figured he would have done so if it had been in his possession.
It would have been enough to drive a vampire to drink, if she still had any in her hand.
“Lovely,” spoke his fanged patient through gritted fangs. “From vampire to Egyptian mummy, in one easy step…” Eyes rolled back into her head in annoyance, then she had to grimace from additional pain. Much like artificial stitches, some of the slashes across her stomach might have had the inner layer of skin trying to heal back together, but it was still weak and a conclusion caused what little was healed to rip back open.
Needless to say, she had a noisy response to it.
“Gimme’,” she said, waving aggressively at the bagged plasma. “I don’t wanna’ get all desiccated!”
Radek sighed, cautiously passing the first of the four bags to the patient and placing the other three on the trolley, within her reach. It was at times like this he always sent up a silent thank-you to James and Sam Hutchins, their wards and protections having been in place since he’d first built the premises some ten years earlier and strengthened more recently. He appreciated how challenging it had been, recalling the sometimes heated ‘discussion’ between the two magic-users as they concocted the best solution to the issue of allowing the doctor to treat patients of all kinds and permitting them into the ‘pool house’, while ensuring the doctor and his practice was protected.
He noted the abdominal wounds reopened and shook his head. “Best not to aid your aggressor’s handiwork,” he told her, a little exasperated, “and remain still.” He pulled open a drawer in the trolley to reveal an array of suture kits, a handful now extracted and placed on the work surface of another trolley as he reached up and adjusted the position of a lamp, flooding her torso with blue light. “The least damaging of lights for your kind,” he muttered as he looked closely at her arm then up at her face again. “Do you know what was used for this damage?” he asked, the immortal slipping into his more Czech-flavoured accent as he started the more detailed examination of what was required.
“Appreciated,” came her one-worded response, just as a viper’s bite was administered through plastic. It was practically a juice box and the peculiar make-up of vampiric biology would see to it that the contents got to where they needed to go. it might not be at optimal temperature, but it was what she most needed.
“Magic, that’s all I know. Thought it was holy water, ‘til he twisted the top off. Blasted me like a hand-held flamethrower…”
Katherine had only spoken after draining half the packet, then immediately squeezed the rest of it dry. That, at least, had taken the edge off and she looked up at the ceiling, knowing she would need to endure some tailoring, with or without anaesthetic.
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t get this way from entering the ring or trying to eat someone,” the bloodied brunette elaborated, figuring now was as good a time as any to placate someone with access to her internal organs. “I was defending a kid.”
Radek was pulling open another drawer as she spoke, taking out the same anaesthetic he’d used on Derek, the young vampire having appeared to be more tolerant of his treatment once it had been injected. He paused as she told him the circumstances of the events that ended up with her on his table and nodded his acknowledgement of the information. While he didn’t make a habit of asking of these things, unless it bore some relevance to his treatment, when a patient offered the information he would take it on board. He prided himself on not allowing his doctoring to be affected by the individual, after all it was the oath he’d sworn, on a number of occasions over the centuries, and he upheld it.
“Lidocaine is better for these situations, especially given the lack of any sort of effective circulatory system to distribute the drug more widely.” He loaded a syringe with a full vial of the anaesthetic, flicking the air bubbles out from habit. He began with the chest. “This child is fortunate you came along?” he murmured as he worked his way around the gaping hole, relieved that there appeared to be at least sufficient flesh and skin available to form at least a covering. The abdomen’s openings were, while gory and damaging, were now starting to settle as she lay still.
An eyebrow was lifted at the medical explanation. Katherine might not be a student, but she had picked up more anatomical knowledge along the years than some might assume by looking at her. A career like Katherine’s demanded at least some rudimentary understanding. Not just for applying it offensively, either. Being captured, even interrogated, was something the vampiress had to be on her guard against. A certain fire-wielder had most recently proven the need for that.
That lack of trust was a major reason why she wouldn’t have shown up here unless it had been necessary.
“Better than the old days,” Katherine observed, hinting at a longevity which might have more in common with Radek’s own than Derek’s. There was a pause before she continued, trying not to let on how the sensation of sharp needle to injuries felt. It was a necessity.
“I mean, I say ‘kid’... Could be a few hundred years, for all I know. But vampire hunter’s are like priests. Not all of ‘em are in it for… Wholesome reasons, y’know? And when you convince yourself the undead don’t count as people? And you’ve got urges...”
That dark train of thought entered a tunnel and Katherine went silent for a moment, remembering what had taken place. What had led to her being here. She needed the distraction while he set to work.
“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t give a shit how many of us get taken down. But a gift to track us down’s one thing. Cornering some vampire teen for your dirty fantasy, knowing nobody cares… Well, that’s another.” The functional hand on her intact arm clenched, momentarily, into a fist. “Let’s just say, he wasn’t too happy I interrupted.”
“So I see,” Radek replied, the response covering a wide range of the conversation’s directions. He’d treated a few of these ‘hunters’, they being a part of his clientele who also found themselves not wanting to explain to authorities the origins of various types of wounds they often found themselves needing some professional attention for. Their attitudes were also as wide-ranging, as the vampiress had pointed out. He held his tongue on the observation that attitudes on any topic could be wide-ranging regardless of species. His attention to injection sites shifted to the abdomen, then finally the leg and arm.
“Should I expect a call from another needing attending?” he asked as he moved from one limb to the other.
There was a thoughtful adjournment and Katherine retained some ambiguity on purpose, finally replying, “Nope... I let the girl deal with him. Karma’s a bitch when she wants to be.”
There was some satisfaction in the poetry of it. Katherine could have simply tied him up, sent a message for Rhiannon to get him, if she had felt charitable. But what were the chances her story would be believed? And if it was, she wouldn’t have put it past the other brunette to have ended him, herself, regardless. Better for a would-be abuse victim to see to it.
The final application of numbing agent gave a reprieve from the more obvious physical symptoms and Katherine exhaled, making for a more leisurely ingestion of the next sachet.
“Guessing this must be an interesting vocation for you. What’s the weirdest case who’s walked through this door? Like… The most interesting?”
Radek’s attention to the arm was broken by the question, his propensity to becoming engrossed in the abilities of the human anatomy only surpassed by his interest in that of humanoid entities, formerly human, to perform the miracles of healing. His centuries of research into his own abilities had given him a mental archive greater than most universities held, many of the better ones having seen him grace their halls over time.
“The most interesting?” He repeated, blinking as he looked up at her and moving back to the trolley to prepare to start suturing the chest wound, fairly certain the anaesthetic would now be in effect. He pondered her question, then asked, “as a physician I have found many cases to be ‘interesting’ as you put it, for the abilities and fragilities of the anatomy of many have held great fascination for me.” He replaced the gloves he’d been wearing with a fresh set and prepared the thread, dissolving in this case, to begin. As he returned his attention to her chest wound he continued.
“Some of the most interesting have been where science itself has no answers, where wounds that have been suffered were inadequate to halt the life and then, in others, a mere blow with perfect placement has dropped one dead.” The hooked needle started its repair work, deftly pulling together skin and tissue, internally and externally, his focus on the work fully engaged.
“How many years has it been since your blood flowed with mechanical assistance?” he asked, referring of course to the human heart fulfilling its role in the maintenance of the body.
Katherine's first instinct was to think in terms of cogs and gears, giving her a curious mental image of Count Dracula in clockwork form, which caused a bemused half-smile as the vampiress twitched her nose. She was looking up at the ceiling, grateful for her nervous system no longer being as on fire as it had been. Under other circumstances, one might have expected the beeping of a heart monitor, but...
"Early nineteen hundreds," she allowed, seeing no reason to hide the truth. "It was folks with a pulse who drove me half-dead. Took a vampire to save me. In a manner of speaking, anyhow."
The poetic irony of that was creeping up on Katherine especially now, given what had brought her here. Saving... It was a weird concept to even trouble herself thinking over, usually. Yet, here she was, having just helped to save another and, now, maybe not getting saved, herself, but at least getting helped. It made her frown, wondering if this was one of those great cosmic moments of significance.
Where was that third packet of crimson, again?
"What's that accent? I can't place it," the patient observed; features being marred by a frown of concentration. Trying to sift through decades of memories and coming up short. "Heard it some place."
As he stitched the sections of the wound together Radek’s attention remained on work at hand, but his ear was attuned to the gathering of information regardless of what work his hands were carrying out. The fact the body beneath his hands was within the realms of a century old had him adjust some observations, continuing to silently monitor and record the condition of the flesh with this in mind. As he had in the past, he wondered at the changes that occur at that moment of ‘change’, for a vampire, an immortal, any other being that was created from an original human body. Many, many years had been spent studying this, his experimentation on reanimation having been extensive, but to date had not produced any conclusive results. While most would be disappointed, he’d simply decided to continue his work on maintaining the life force that existed in each, regardless of its source, while continuing to seek answers. The scholar in him also lived on.
To this end his eyes darted across at her arm as he changed needles, threading a new one as the point on the one he was using became dull. He made some quick observations and then returned to the next set of wounds that required needlework.
“My origins are the city of Prague, the land of Bohemia,” he replied, “though the country is now known as the Czech Republic.” He paused for a moment then added, “I believe it was Czechoslovakia back when you would first have studied? It became so after the collapse of the Austrian-Hungarian empire at the end of the first World War.” After a brief shrug he continued stitching. “During a rather refreshingly peaceful transition it separated into Czech Republic and Slovakia just some thirty years ago.” He couldn’t help himself as the scholar within relished a moment of sharing.
“Ohhh... Right,” came the vampire’s response, using the remaining able hand to wipe over her face in recognition. A fellow time traveller, to all intents and purposes. “The Reds,” murmured Katherine, thinking back.
The invasion of ‘68… People tend to forget the Cold War was not without its flashpoints. Unlike Hungary, back in the fifties, Brezhnev had tried to give things a multilateral flavour, but there was no denying it being an Soviet-dominated initiative. Katherine might sound American to the core, but her travels were often to where blood or treasure could be found. Less so the ‘treasure’ part.
“Did some gunrunning there. Among other things… There was this-” But she stopped herself. No sense in raking over the past too deeply. “Let’s say there were some loose ends from a German vacation.”
Looking down, Katherine narrowed eyes. It triggered some curiosity about the surgeon’s own educational history. Where he learned his trade. Seemed focused on the work, about as professional as could be expected, given connections. If there hadn’t been so much of her own blood and cleaning chemicals painting the air, she would have trusted what her olfactory senses were telling her, but something about their conversation - and being trusted by Seventh Circle, itself - made the vampiress suspect there was probably more to him.
“What you said about… Cases where science has no answers. What’d you say if I could get a genuine medical marvel into your hands?”
His fingers paused in their work as his head turned and his eyes lifted to meet hers. An eyebrow arched questioningly. “Given your own physicality’s defiance of medical science I am intrigued as to what you would classify as a ‘marvel’,” he replied before returning to the task at hand, tying off the final stitches that would maintain her abdomen’s hold on its contents while her accelerated healing took care of the rest. He glanced down at her leg. As he peeled off another set of gloves he added, “and do I need to remove any errant substances, or metal of any kind?” He asked, not recalling her mentioning a gun or being shot, but not willing to take that for granted.
Rubber gloves being snapped into place was one of those sounds, Katherine had long ago decided. The ones which somehow could evoke a universal response of mild worry and a need to clench buttocks. Fangs sliced into the next packet and she was rewarded with a provision of scarlet in liquid form.
“Good question,” she replied, having to actually take a moment and consider. “No, just used a blade. As for the, uh, miracle… I’ll drop it off, some time this week. Don’t want to spoil the surprise too much, but you might want to brush up on your Russian.”
Radek nodded, a little relieved he didn’t have to dig out any shrapnel. Given her rate of healing that would mean a bit more cutting. Now he could turn his attention to the arm, an area that was going to take a fair bit more time and effort to reconstruct.
“Russian you say?” He looked at her again, pausing for a moment. “Spoken or written?” It wasn’t a script he was overly familiar with but could make do.
“Written, but… Every little bit helps. I mean, I don’t know what your deal is; where you’re from, what you know,” allowed Katherine, reasoning with the obvious. “In your position, that’s the way I’d like it, too. But one of those loose ends I mentioned from Europe turned up. It’s been a problem in need of a solution and… You might be able to actually do some good with it. You’ll see what I mean.”
Which, if nothing else, inferred whatever it was could potentially be beneficial. Something which could be used. Although, if Radek had been familiar with her, doing good with something was not the most characteristic strategy for the vampire to typically go for. Katherine was more of a self-serving type than outright evil, so… Doing something good was unusual.
Depending on how she might interpret ‘good’, of course.
Looking down at the more skeletal of two arms, Katherine squinted. It was a weird experience, like having X-ray vision. “Now I know how Supergirl feels,” she remarked and tried to make out if the way her flesh was slowly, gradually, mending and growing around the calcium. Just how fast was an injury this extensive going to heal up? And would she be lucky enough to sleep through it before the nerve endings made her want to fire-bomb half of Nevada?
It made her give the bed a small backwards kick out of frustration.
Why did doing the right thing have to come with such ugly consequences?