ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ (mysticism) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-02-13 09:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: katherine pierce, ₴ inactive: stephen strange |
WHO: Katherine & Dr. Strange
WHAT: Getting the vampire on a blood bag schedule
WHERE: Chakrabarti Clinic
WHEN: Friday (yesterday)
WARNINGS: Talk of blood?
STATUS: Complete
Well, here he was. Doctor Strange. Practicing medicine once more. Fantastic. He really didn’t mind, he supposed. Though he already had this talk with the Ancient One, their spirits conversing while overlooking the city and beneath the lights that twinkled like jewels on a tiara as her physical form lay dying on an emergency room operating table. The quandary was this: Stephen could use magic to heal his hands, go back to life as a neurosurgeon - thus depriving the Earth of a great protector. Or he could find a way to come to terms with the brokenness, and follow his new calling as a Master of the Mystic Arts. It was obvious which one he’d chosen. And how he’d chosen - putting the fear of failure aside, learning the most important lesson of all: it’s not about you. That was why he did what he did, why he plunged into a role that required putting billions before him. Keeping the world safe - it was no easy task, especially when being a Master of the Mystic Arts meant he walked that path largely alone. Here in Vallo, he didn’t have the Sanctum to use as a research facility, training grounds, or most importantly - a home. That shook things up a little, and when a doctor commented on his forum post telling him about the clinic he took her up on her offer to interview and join the staff as a physician. Despite his relatively new calling in life, the Hippocratic Oath was still important to him - there were plenty of ‘heroes’ he knew who were willing to snuff out sentient life ‘for the greater good’ and if they felt it was justified, but Stephen didn’t always go that route. He struggled with ways to keep his opponents alive (namely the Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain time loop) and that also brought up questions of morality such as - was banishment to a place like the Dark Dimension worse than death? Lots to think about, when he wasn’t in the middle of a shift. He’d gone through his rounds - writing prescriptions, studying blood work results, all fairly routine things. Then he checked what was next, grabbing the clipboard placed in the holder outside the exam room to go over the paperwork - there weren’t many details, which was odd. He was still reading it over, pale wintry eyes scanning and committing what was there to memory, when he stepped into the room. “Katherine, yes? I’m Dr. Strange.” Yes, Katherine, who had been waiting oh so patiently (or not) in this all too sanitized with lighting so awful that if she were anyone else her complexion would look terrible. Visiting the clinic had been on her To Do list for the past couple days now - with Nadia having settled into a semblance of a school routine and Hank becoming a productive member of Vallo Society ™, she was in dire need of getting herself situated. Not in regards to career - that was up in the air - but in diet. A very specific liquid diet. One that she preferred to get directly from the fucking source, except that wasn’t conducive to being a decent person with a family. Hank had generously offered himself up for assistance (wasn’t he the sweetest?) and she had kept the cravings mostly suppressed with a consistent stream of booze going down those pipes. What she really needed to acclimate properly was a steady supply in blood bag form. It was the humane option, sigh. “Hey doc,” she greeted with a wry smile, spinning around in the little wheeled stool that was usually kept for the actual medical professionals. A curl of hair was twirled lazily around her finger as Katherine sized him up, thinking. “Didn’t you just arrive?” “Fresh and shiny new,” Stephen confirmed with deadpan humor. His default mode was usually is he joking or not, a question that sometimes even those who were closest to him had trouble answering. Then again, those who fell under the umbrella of ‘close to him’ were - let’s just say few and far in between; he was more difficult to reach than a remote island. Without an airport. He popped a pen free from its spot in his lab coat pocket protector, prepared to take notes in messy doctor’s handwriting - his penmanship had improved immensely after the accident (there was a time when his hands shook so much, he could barely write his own name) but, like most doctors, it still wasn’t anything stunning in terms of calligraphy. “I thought I’d skip straight to working in order to ignore the existential crisis that happens when you hop timelines. So - “ He gave Katherine his undivided attention. “What brings you here to the Chakrabarti Clinic today?” Who in the actual fuck named a clinic after themselves - and Strange thought his ego was massive. Try saying Chakrabarti ten times, good lord. Katherine watched him do his little scribble, one of those finely plucked brows of hers arched in mild amusement. She recalled the magician detail from his dry introduction post, but she must have missed the doctor detail among all that nonsense. “I need blood,” she answered him with a light little shrug, bringing her hand up to examine the back of her nails and half-wondering if Vallo had decent salons. Her gaze flitted back to him shortly after - it’d be rude to carry the conversation without eye contact, wouldn’t it? “Human blood. The specific type doesn’t matter. I hear this clinic helps vampires on the side to make sure we don’t make the citizens of the city our own personal buffet and before you even think about asking - I don’t sparkle.” Oh no, she burned when it came to sunlight shining on her skin - if it weren’t for the enchanted lapis lazuli pendant around her neck, anyway. It was a permanent accessory, non-negotiable. Thankfully it went with most of her outfit choices. Needing blood was admittedly not what Stephen expected - if it had been a blood transfusion, different story, he was used to that sort of thing. But supplying a bag of the stuff to serve as a meal was - well, he hadn’t gone that route before. Vampires were also creatures he filed under ‘never encountered before Vallo, only read about,’ but he wasn’t so naive to think that they didn’t exist in his timeline. Katherine definitely didn’t look like your typical gothic vampire - overgrown canines, skin paler than the moon, a distaste for garlic (or maybe she did hate garlic after all, he technically hadn’t asked yet). No, she looked kissed by the sun’s rays and like she should be posing for a perfume ad, with nary a hair out of place and a mastery of cat’s eye makeup. “Sure, we can set that up,” he agreed, and even though he had a photographic memory he planned to write everything down so he could leave instructions in case he wasn’t here. “I’ll get you started with blood pickups, on a schedule. Can you tell me about vampires, or your specific type of vampire I should say? And does it matter the type of blood - O positive, A negative, and so forth?” He also wanted to make sure to supply her with the right kind of blood. Maybe there was a specific type she was allergic to. Odder things had happened. “Blood types aren’t relevant,” she waved casually. “Clean blood’s preferred. Nothing with alcohol or drugs laced in it. Human blood is human blood - it’s divine regardless, but those factor into the taste. Maybe I want to be a little spoiled and be a vampire that eats as organic as possible.” What a luxury. That wasn’t really a requirement for Katherine, just a ‘hey this would be nice’ anecdote. She wouldn’t know what reason a clinic would have to take blood from a drunkard or someone who was as high as a fucking kite but Vallo was a bit on the odd side, who knows. As for his other question, well. “As for type of vampire - it’s not too far off from the stereotypes. Garlic does nothing, the sunlight is deadly but this nifty necklace saves me from dying from a sunburn. I have to be invited into personal homes to enter, fire is awful. I can do some mind control but don’t worry, that’s a shitty thing to do and consent is sexy. Vervain is an herb that burns like hell so please don’t offer it to me, and our kind of vampire species was created from magic?” Katherine was sure she hit all the important bullet points. She guessed she could see why that question was so important - different people of different worlds most likely meant different kinds of vampires. Not all were created equal. Stephen wrote all of that down - he’d probably end up typing it into a nice and neat document later, something to be printed out and kept with Katherine’s file at the clinic. But now he knew why there wasn’t much in there to begin with - so he was glad to get to fill in the blanks about her particular brand of vampire. “Essentially the organic, grass-fed beef, cage-free chickens version of blood,” he hummed, marking that down too. “Got it.” They took all sorts of blood samples for laboratory work here at the clinic, and there was an addiction recovery program in place as well - he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn there was something not entirely clean currently in a vial someplace. He thought of something else then too. “What about - other species? Fae blood, elf blood, that sort of thing? The clinic is set up for Outlanders but we get some locals in here too. And even so, not all Outlanders are biologically human but more...mythic humanoid, if that makes sense?” Oh. Hmmm. Katherine’s face scrunched up as she tried to recall. “Werewolves are fine,” she answered, crossing her legs and capping her hands over her knee. “But as for the other ones I actually don’t know?” Her shoulders lifted up for another shrug. “I’ve encountered a few odd species here and there but I’ve never really deviated from the usual Happy Meals on Legs that humans typically are.” Witches were considered special with their own magical bloodline or some shit, and they were fine to consume too unless they drank vervain tea like the trolls they could often be. “I’m willing to try if there’s a scarcity issue, though. I don’t intend to hog all the human blood for myself and god knows how many other vampires you’re all servicing.” Though, that did remind her of one other detail - “My own blood has healing properties, by the way.” Katherine was divulging that information carefully - she didn’t like to offer it up often, but she felt like she also should in case there was an actual emergency and someone was desperate. “Not really sure how it works because the blood that’s in me is just blood I suck from others? Whatever, anyway. But for example, if I broke a couple of your bones and stabbed you?” Not that she’d offer a physical demonstration - that could be painful. “A drink from my veins would patch you right up.” “Oh?” One of Stephen’s brows quirked upward. That was an interesting effect. “Is there a catch, to that sort of thing?” He found that most little quirks, whether it be superpowers or magic or what have you, often came with a price. Nothing was free in this world - in basically any world. “Either way, if you - would be interested in being on hand in case of emergencies? I could get you here really quickly.” Sometimes, when it was a matter of life or death, no one had time to wait - and when it was a moment of desperation, time did seem to move about as fast as cold, cold honey. Maybe if he had something like healing blood on hand for the Ancient One, she’d still be alive. Of course, she’d also scold him for considering something like that - things unfolded as they were meant to, as had been prophesied. There was no changing that. He stuck his pen back into his lab coat pocket. “But alright, let me go find you blood bags - human blood, for this first time. I’ll also slip in something else and you can try it and let me know how your system reacts to it.” But he didn’t want Katherine’s entire supply to be something she potentially couldn’t drink, so best they start small with the experiments. There had been a few, rare moments where she had used her blood for the greater good back in the OC - human or vampire, it was always sought out for something. “If someone dies with my blood still in their system, they begin a vampire transition. Consume human blood and turn or just die.It can be risky, depending. If you’re ever desperate then sure. Hit me up. I’d just rather keep it on the down low.” Katherine wasn’t entirely heartless. She wouldn’t say so no to saving someone if they were, like, dying on the street unless they were an irredeemable fuck. So, yeah, she was willing to lend a hand without needing to flaunt altruism or whatever. She leaned forward though, chin resting into her palm because ohhhh, something else? “And I’m game, doc,” she smiled with an impish gleam in her eyes. “Hope it’s that fae blood - if anything else that sounds like a potentially crazy acid trip.” Stephen felt similarly. He didn’t need to flaunt altruism either - he protected the world, keeping it safe from mystical and magical threats, but he did it because he learned to find new purpose after crawling out of a traumatic hellhole. Christine had been right - he didn’t need to perform surgery to save lives. At the time he hadn’t believed her, casting her wisdom aside, but now (and especially after Thanos) he saw how correct she truly was. “Down low,” he agreed, and the term just didn’t sound right rolling off his tongue - awkward, maybe. Well, he tried. Then he was off, placing a few blood bags into a cooler - some were human (O+, specifically) and there was one bag that was filled with fae blood - it didn’t look any different than the human variety did, it was just as crimson and not sparkling or anything, but he imagined it might taste different. Maybe like champagne - not like this was something he put a lot of thought into. He returned to the exam room, setting down the cooler. “Just bring this back when you need a refill - I’ll likely be here to help you but if not, I’ll leave instructions for the rest of the staff.” By the time he came back to the exam room Katherine had actually stood up from that tiny stool, and was unashamedly looking through cabinets out of bored curiosity. Clear plastic cups to pee in, extra gloves, tongue depressors - brought her back to the days where she rummaged through her father’s medical equipment, a doctor himself. (Well, her uncle. Technically. He was a douche. Bye.) Then Strange returned, and she didn’t even look ashamed to be caught being nosy. “That was easy,” she mused, stepping over to the cooler he brought. “Pleasure being your patient, doc - I take it I’m not the weirdest specimen you’ve ever come across. Why work here when you can do magic tricks, anyway? Are you one of the healing types?” Fuck, her instincts were a bit twitchy knowing that their was blood inches away from her. Katherine had to actively keep her fangs from popping out. She was feeling a little...ravenous, perhaps. Katherine could look in the cabinets all she wanted - there really wasn’t anything exciting in there anyway, and all of it was technically free (as long as someone didn’t steal the entire supply of tongue depressors or something). Seeing a doctor in Vallo was also, technically, free - universal healthcare, a wild concept. Stephen was all on board for it, and it was frustrating that the United States really wasn’t. “I’m not really a healer, no,” he said, and he supposed he could be, if he wanted to. Study up on it, learn, apply himself. It wasn’t simple - he believed strongly in the power of medicine, of taking the Hippocratic Oath seriously and preserving life; after the situation with the turkeys, it just seemed like a lot of people threw themselves into danger knowing they could get wrecked and have magical healing fix it three seconds later. That wasn’t always going to work, however. It wasn’t a smart thing to hang your figurative hat on. “Not in the magical sense.” As for his other magic, he rolled his shoulders, hands slipping into the pockets of his lab coat - long fingers, long red scars. Heavy ones, and while he’d improved a lot he still couldn’t maintain the steadiness required for precise surgery. “I’m a member of an order of sorcerers committed to protecting Earth from mystical threats. So I can do a lot of tricks. But - magic isn’t meant to fix everything either.” Hm, she could get behind that statement. Magic was always so prevalent - back home at the OC, in these memories of this other life she was stuck having, here. Katherine wasn’t a stranger to it. She found it fucking exhausting sometimes, which was why being around Hank was so refreshing - her lover’s brain could find ways to explain the unexplainable, toss some logic into the weirdness of it all. Plus, she was full of random (though admittedly interesting) facts now, like - did you know a teaspoonful of a neutron star weighs six billion tons? Thanks a bunch, Dr. McCoy. “That’s probably one of the most reasonable things I’ve heard yet from this place,” Katherine winked, polished nails tapping against the cooler. “Well - thanks for the meals. Not going to take up too much of your time. You don’t seem like the type that’s into small talk, either - I can respect that.” “Not usually, but normal conversations are fine,” Stephen smirked a bit. He didn’t really have friends - not back home, and not here. So maybe he could stand to make some, even if he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be any good at it. He got too involved in his work and didn’t often resurface unless it was the end of the world or someone was tempting him with spicy noodles. But, well, he’d see how it went. “I’ll walk you out,” he offered, making sure Katherine had her meals in her to-go cooler. “And you’re welcome - there’s a pretty decently-sized vampire community in the city from what I understand, so, you’re not the only one who needs to eat.” Thus, it wasn’t too odd of a request - people got paid to donate blood, and while he didn’t have all the details about that he was still certain they’d continue to have a steady supply to service her and other vampires. And honestly, this was a welcome reprieve from someone wandering in bleeding all over the place because they went toe-to-toe with pissed off poultry. He’d take the respite - gladly. |