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But underneath the worry there is roiling, shimmering anger, bound tightly with iron chains but threatening to melt them and burst through. Anger about people hurting other people in myriad ways, sometimes by just being indifferent to their suffering and letting it happen without doing anything about it (a sharp glare at the back of the nurse as she disappears through the curtain), but sometimes by actively bringing harm to others, with words or laws or weapons. That anger is very old, like a found rock that has been held so many times, squeezed so many times that the edges have worn smooth, but it's still there, and it's still hard.
"Yes, we cannot put the sick at risk. I wonder why the Grey Maidens are there, what are they protecting against? But perhaps we can draw them out. Make them think there's a fire, perhaps."
After the brief discussion, the nurse returns with one of the doctors. She nods, ”you can go see him, but for your safety you should follow Kor here.” The plague doctor nods.
Both the doctor and the nurse have thoughts. If you want to concentrate to get the surface ones, you have to concentrate for 3 rounds and they’ll each get a save. Recall that if they make their save, they’ll know “something” has happened.
Having been silent thus far, Vera feels no compulsion to speak up. Instead, she focuses on the doctor for a few moments, following along inside if she needs to.
As the party is moving to follow the doctor through the sick ward to Dr. Davalus’ office, he stops and turns around, and signals to the gray maidens. In a muffled voice, he says, to the nurse ”one of these people has magic - it’s not clear what - may be enchantment or something.” The gray maidens on the catwalk draw their bows, holding them at the ready as he turns to the party. ”Explain. Now.” The nurse steps back, confused.
His voice is loud enough that the other plague doctors look up from their duties.
Vera holds up her hands as she's apparently caught in the act. She spends a moment trying to think of a plausible explanation, as she prepares some sort of brilliant lie.
But actually, she can't think of anything plausible. So she tries something true. Or mostly true. "I'm sorry--it was just me trying to read your thoughts! A bad habit of a fortuneteller--it's hard when I can't see your face."
Regardless, she certainly finds it remarkable that a doctor has some sort of command authority over a troop of soldiers. Her heart races as she fears for what might happen to her.
Marcus frowns up at the drawn bows. "Tight security for a hospital." It's neither an accusation nor a threat, just an observation of their abnormal practices. He steps between Vera and the Maidens, forcing their aim on himself instead.
"Surely using magic is not a crime, doctor? Or does this hospice have something to hide?" Yaziyah steps forward as well to protect Vera from the Gray Maidens.
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Olenna blinks in surprise as the doctor accuses them of peddling in magic. No, she hadn't employed any of her tinctures before entering--there was no need to cause anyone suspicious into paranoia. As weapons are drawn and Vera admits that it was her spell, Olenna's breath catches.
If you're going to do that, cover your tracks better, girl, she thinks, unaware if or whether her own thoughts were audible. Better try to salvage this if we can.
"What did I tell you about parlor tricks on the job, young lady?" she says with a stinging, maternal rebuke, winging back on Vera. She turns back to Dr. Davalus with a look of disappointment, shaking her head. "New recruit to the Guard. It's hard to find good help these days, but they have to start somewhere." She shuffles her cloak to show her badge and smiles congenially, though her face mask covers the actual smile and it's mostly visible in the crinkles at the corners of her eyes.
The doctor pauses, ”What? Are you all from the guard then?” He turns to Yazi, ”we have been charged by the Dr. Davalus to administer aid to the people of the city. And he was brought here by the Queen, using her own money! To help people. But this is their property. It may not be a crime to use any magic, but you can’t just do whatever you want here - especially if you are with the guard. You especially can’t just try to mind control me! I haven’t done anything to you!” He sounds angry.
He waves his arms dramatically, ”and we have to have security - we can’t just have chaos where any random person crowds into here to get treatment, or people try to steal these people’s stuff. This is all paid for by the Queen! What if some random gang attacks! The guards keep everyone safe! Ugh.” He steps back.
He thinks for a moment, ”just - just go back to the entrance - I have to talk to the doctor about this, if you really are from the guard.” He points back at the curtained waiting room. The Gray Maidens on the catwalk seem to relax a little.
Vera lets out her breath as she's apparently not arrested or filled with arrows for her indiscretion. "I'm so sorry!" she continues to plead. She looks to Olenna as the apparent authority figure. "Maybe it's best if I just leave?" She then turns back to the doctor. "Please don't hold what I did against the others here."
Unless someone stops her, Vera proceeds to walk out of the hospice, quite certain that staying there was subjecting herself to unnecessary danger.
Magda kept her mouth shut, since these did not seem like the kind of people that listened to anything out of a mouth like hers. Which disappointed her, maybe even saddened her. She takes the time to give the entire place a look, without drawing anymore attention, cause who would? A scrap of a girl next to Yazi and the Wall, and the lamp lady with that HAIR. Draws the eyes like watching a lamp... the connection startles Magda a little. Lamp hair, lamp lady. "little here, little there, hmmm"
She rushes out with Vera, cause, well... Cause.
"Okay now what? Set that fire? Sneak in the back, see if we can get on the roof, sewer access, drains and such?" she asks her friend.
Olenna tries to firmly but gently grab Vera by the shoulder as she leaves and thinks very hard at her, hoping that she hadn't dropped her spell yet. She wasn't ready to claim that all of them were from the Guard, but at least her and the kid.
No, wait; stay. Play along. We can remedy this. Stay in the waiting room.
"No you don't, young lady. You're not quitting already on account of a rookie mistake," she chides, her tone gentle but rebuking.
She sighs as Vera evades her grasp and Magda follows. Pursing her lips in actual frustration, she tries to salvage the situation before withdrawing back into the waiting room.
"By all means, please go speak with Dr. Davalus," she says. She lets her frustration grow in a measured way as she continues, matching the plague doctor's drama even as she begins moving back towards the curtain. "If I really am from the guard, we're supposed to be working together, you know. This all only works if we can trust each other to forgive mistakes. Surely you have a half-baked intern on staff who had just barely graduated from the University when all this started. Fine, fine, you know what?" She whirls around in front of the curtain. "Tell Dr. Davalus that Detective Sergeant Olenna Tucca née Bromathan," she lingers on her House name for emphasis, "Would like to speak professionally with him. Gods."
Slipping away from Olenna, Vera seems distressed by the situation as she starts pulling at her hair. "Ugh, what a mess, Mags! That trick usually works fine, but that doctor has a strong mind. And a bunch of security. Who's ever seen a hospital filled with armed guards?"
But as Magda suggests all sorts of new mischief, both Vera's smile and her optimism returns. "Well, do you want to see what the dock entrance looks like? I can help us both become invisible for a few minutes. Whaddya think?"
The nurse throws up her arms and sighs dramatically, ”ugh” and then stomps back to the waiting room after Vera and Magda.
The plague doctor shakes his head, ”alright lady, I don’t know who you are. But if you’re with the guard - I guess you can explain it to Doctor Davalus. Whatever. Anyone else who wants to meet with Dr Davalus to find this Ruan character - should come, without trying to mind control me or anything. I have to get back to work.” He’s obviously annoyed, and he turns and heads towards the double doors guarded by the gray maidens.
The gray maidens seem relaxed, more or less but are watching the party.
Marcus watches the girls leave and stays, intent on being there for the conversation with Davalus.
Yaziyah remains as well, curious to hear what this doctor has to say about the operation here, although she was worried about Magda and Vera as well.
As Vera and Magda leave and do not return, but Marcus and Yazi stay, Olenna raises her eyebrows at them. "By all means, doctor, please lead the way."
I guess we're doing this.
She follows after to go meet with Dr. Davalus.
Yazi, Marcus, Olenna and the plague doctor Kor move northeast through the hospice until they get to the easternmost door in this area. Two gray maidens stand guard nearby, and look at the party as they pass, but don’t respond otherwise. Kor confers with them for a moment, and the pushes open the door.
This single door is opened by Kor, who ushers everyone inside. Within is a narrow staircase leading up to what must be the former warehouse’s office space. Pointing at the stairs, he gestures, and with nowhere else to go from this small hallway, the party heads upstairs.
The rough functionality of the warehouse below gives way to beige tile and a whitewashed hall on this floor. Double doors engraved with images of rampant gazelles stands to the south, their once fine teak bearing obvious scores and chips from rough use.
Kor gestures for the party to move west, and they do, passing a pair of gray maidens that seem to be guarding the double doors. To the west is a table at which sits a man who must obviously be Dr. Reiner Davaulus. He is speaking softly to three plague doctors who stand at attention, as if listening for instructions. He stand up and extends a hand, pointing to the table, ”good afternoon, please sit. Kor spoke briefly about your trouble, but I do not know the details - but if I can help I will.” Kor nods and returns back to the first floor.
Dr. Reiner Davaulus is a slender human man in his late 20s or early 30s, with close-cut brown hair, a brown coat with large pockets, and a belt around his waist that is lined with iron vials with labels on them, though the labels are in a spindly handwriting. He is handsome, with a winning crooked smile, intelligent brown eyes, and smooth un-pocked skin that typically marks a person as being raised “wealthy”.
Marcus silently notes all those they pass, making notes of escape routes and where more troops could be hiding based on the layout of the building.
The doctor was younger than Marcus expected. He noted the rapier on the young man's hip; probably not much a fighter, but even prissy royal kids could be dangerous if given proper tutelage. The trick was to shatter their expectations of what a fight is supposed to look like.
Marcus moves over to the chairs but decides to remain standing, casually looking about the room.
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Olenna follows Kor and notes the preponderance of security compared to physicians with no small amount of concern. Certainly there were concerns of theft or gang attacks and such, but these numbers seemed as disproportionate as the in-out ratio of living to dead. But Olenna tries to keep her suspicions tamped down, even as the evidence guiding her towards suspicion ramps up.
Don't assume. Deduce.
Once face-to-face with Dr. Davaulus, Olenna appraises him thoughtfully. Young, probably no older than she was, and handsome. Olenna feels mildly self-conscious at that. No one except her husband had ever called her beautiful, much less pretty, and although Enzo insisted he meant it when he lavished praise on her, she still felt uncomfortable when he remarked on her physical appearance. It oughtn't matter, except that (in more prosperous times) the Korvosan nobility made such a big deal about fashion and makeup and such. Olenna had tried to wear the frilly dresses and paint her face, but it had just felt unnatural. Her elven features, rather than alluring, seemed to mark her as other. And her hair was such a tangled nest that she was lucky to keep reasonably brushed and pulled back. So sitting next to someone who appeared to be of a similar social class as what she was--or what she had been--and of the same age gives her a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. And butterflies, maybe.
She swallows all that down as she reaches to shake his hand (if it had been offered in welcome rather than mere gesture), and then sits down. She smiles.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dr. Davaulus. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with us. I am Detective Sergeant Olenna Tucca of the Korvosan Guard, and these are my associates." She gestures briefly towards Marcus and Yazi. They can introduce themselves if they want to. I wouldn't mind knowing their names either.
She wasn't going to lead her prospective witness. Let him reveal what he knew and what he didn't, whether through his words or other cues that were harder to control. But if it helped, maybe one of the others actually knew Ruan, or had a description of him. Continuing on after a beat, Olenna pushes ahead.
"We're looking for a Varisian boy by the name of Ruan. His name wasn't on intake paperwork at the front, but I know the state of some folk suffering from Blood Veil. If they don't have identification on them, they may not even be able to tell you their names. I can't imagine how many John and Jane Does you get coming through here, and I'm sure you do your due diligence. We're all just trying to hold the city together. So, if we can help each other out in these trying times, that'd be grand."
He shakes his hand, avoiding touching Olenna, ”you’ll forgive me if I don’t extend a hand. For one thing, Blood Veil can be transmitted by touch. In addition, my hands are a little raw - I’ve been working with chemicals recently and this is the first time I haven’t had to wear gloves in a few hours.”
”You work for the Field Marshall then? I’ll have to have a word with her. I had asked that she let me know ahead of time if she intended to have a guard come for a visit - this area isn’t safe, I might have been better prepared, and you would not have had such trouble coming in. Though, it is good to see Marcus and Yaziyah here.” He nods at the pair, ”I’m glad to see you’re well - and even gladder that it’s you that have come to investigate. I trust you have kept yourselves well in this time.” He turns back to Olenna, ”they were among those who identified the first cases of blood veil in the city - they are local problem-solvers who I believe used to work for the guard.” He opens his hand as if to make a point, ”until recently, I believe. In any event, it sounds like they’ve begun working for the guard again, or at least with them - if you’re here in an official capacity. Quite splendid! The guard needs what help as it can muster.”
He reaches into his pouch and pulls out a flask, and takes a drink, ”excuse me, I should have been staying hydrated but it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re working.” He finishes his drink and continues, ”so, Ruan. It’s my understanding that you didn’t find his name. If that’s the case - and you know he was brought here, he was likely brought in anonymously. I had the doctors take a look and there’s not really any Varisian youths in our hospice area downstairs. The most likely occurrence is that he passed away and his body was cremated. We have done that many times - it is an effective way to keep the veil from spreading.” He retrieves a log book from a nearby shelf and hands it over, ”here feel free to check - my notes are much better than Brunhilde’s.”
The book is a very well organized log book of those treated, when, how, and their eventual status. Many died. It seems like it’s relatively thick and covers the entire duration of the blood veil so far. There is a section for anonymous people, but their anonymity is only retained when they pass away. If they recover, a name is usually provided (because they regain consciousness).
"I see you've come agree with no handshaking." Marcus says with a not-unamused snort. He nods to the doctor's greeting of them, indicating he returns the message in kind. When the notes are offered Marcus goes over to pour through the details, freeing the others to continue talking if need be.
As they pass between the rows of cots, Yaziyah scans the faces looking for Ruan.
Yaziyah speaks up. " We at least know he was alive a few days ago. Perhaps he was taken somewhere else, are there other such establishments in the city?"
If Ruan was dead, that would be devastating news for his sister. The other possibility was that those who took him were not doctors at all, but people pretending to be them. Although why would they do that when the punishment for impersonating one was so harsh...
Unless.
The blood veil was intentional, engineered, and whoever was behind it was trying to discredit the efforts being made to contain it, sowing suspicion and dissent among those working to help.
”I’m sorry Yaziyah, no. Perhaps he was taken to a temple? Why do you think he was brought here?” He seems curious, ”or maybe he was kidnapped or killed? There’s a substantial criminal element in this city, isn’t there?” He blinks and then retrieves a notebook, holding it up, ”some notes I’ve made on the origin of the blood veil. In fact, I think this may even be connected to some of these criminals.”
He flips through, and nods slightly to himself, ”yes, you apparently have a thieves guild … but they would not kidnap people - however under “old Korvosa”, your northern district I believe? Your sewer system is large and extensive, I hear - especially in that district - a perfect hideout. My doctors spotted what they thought were wererats entering the sewers, and they did a little investigation - we believe this group follows Ghlaunder - a demonic deity of parasites. It only makes sense that a mad cult like this would be responsible for the plague and the rise in crime.”
He folds his hands ”I had intended to send out some folks to investigate- but have been very busy working on treatments and ultimately a cure if I can. The queen has granted me something of a stipend, could I hire at least some in your group to investigate the matter for me and return with your findings?” He glances at Olenna, ”I suppose you’re free to join them - but I don’t know much about the rules for moonlighting for guards.”
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Occasionally Mags forget about hugs, nice ones where you kind of melt into a person, where once given suddenly all is right with the world.
The kind her mother would give.
Yazi is not her mother, nope, never, and not possible. But Mags forgets what is like on occasion to be loved so much a hug like that is possible, and Yazi is simply amazing, so occasional, not often, but sometimes, Mags has been known to hug the big giant caring woman, usually from behind so the other lady doesn't need to see the tears the memory of such a hug bring out in street orphan. (One can simply open up so much to another without the embarrassment of such a thing bleeding into pain)
Yazi suddenly feels that behind her, the warm almost desperate 'wanting of comfort' grasp of another.
Magda's hug.
She's telling the big lady she is there. And then slowly without hopefully alerting anyone, a hand slips down the arm of Yazi the great, grasps her finger, and opens it to point to the double doors.
With two grey maidens guarding it.
If anyone were able to see her, they would've noticed that Vera opens her mouth in surprise as Magda ambushes Yazi with a hug. She bites her lip, hoping the Shoanti doesn't react the wrong way.
Vera is careful to focus on the remaining energies of her magic, as she doesn't want it to end at an inopportune moment.
Yaziyah stiffens as she feels the hug, and is about to scold Magda about there being a time and a place for these things, when it strikes her that the girl wouldn't do that here and now unless she had a reason. Then she feels her finger pulled to point at the doors, and hopefully the desk hides that involuntary gesture from the doctor.
Kidnapped? Yes, it is possible. And I think I have heard of Ghlaunder."
This was all so confusing, and they just didn't have enough information, damn it! If Davaulus was telling the truth, then someone was running around Korvosa masquerading as his doctors and kidnapping people - perhaps these cultists of Ghlaunder. But did he really know everything that his people did? It wouldn't be the first time that an "enterprising" soul took it upon themselves to show some initiative and do something behind their boss's back - one example comes to mind that Magda had mentioned, with the guard sergeant and that butcher shop.
So she nods slowly at the suggestion. "We can look into that. Thank you for all your help."
"Hmm...would take me some time to look through this. Always for hire though doctor, even if our group is busy my company can take the job." He was too distracted by the book to notice Magda and Yazi.
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Olenna looks down and notes the sorts of microabrasions that she is well-familiar with from working with chemicals. Although her own hands are gloved, she understands the reticence, nodding and withdrawing the gesture. She then listens to the doctor's discussion, carefully watching his movements.
As she had mentioned to the others--whose names she can now confirm as Marcus and Yaziyah (she knew she had heard those before)--this observation was not something that she had run by Field Marshall Kroft yet. It was, until a few minutes ago, simply information-gathering that, with an accusation of kidnapping, had escalated beyond that. She purses her lips at the idea that the doctor would speak with Kroft about this.
"I might have been better prepared." Why would he need to prepare for a visit from the Guard? Other than courtesy, a generous grant in times such as these, she was unaware of any laws in Korvosa's labyrinthine legal documents that required, much less intimated, a need for notice. Would Kroft have agreed to such a measure? And if she had, would she have passed that notice on to her rank and file? If she had, Olenna didn't remember receiving that memorandum. Maybe it was considered above the station of a Lamplighter.
Olenna's mind continues swiftly making connections--that inner corkboard rapidly rearranging and fleshing out details. If these were the Marcus and Yazi, then that would make the other two...she searches a mental file drawer for the names...Vera and Magda. And hadn't there been a halfling working with them at the time? Erasmo, she believed, was the name. Where was he? A question for later.
"We are in sincere need of aid," she agrees with the doctor as she makes these connections. He was good. He knew a lot about what was going on. Why would he have such deep knowledge of the actions of the Guard? She was scarcely even aware of everything that was going on, having only heard about these "local problem-solvers" second-hand as opposed to having personally encountered them. And then...
The flask. As Olenna's suspicions mount, her paranoia begins to get the better of her. She couldn't confirm it, certainly not by sight alone, and there hadn't been an obvious physical change associated with it, but...chemicals, raw, hands, a flask. A mutagen, perhaps? And if so, then why?
She tables such concerns for the moment, still observing his physique to see if there were any changes. To her surprise, Marcus begins looking through the logbook. She waits patiently and continues to listen until she can take her hand to the records.
If he's truly concerned about transmission by touch, then shouldn't he offer gloves or some manner of disinfectant before handling the logbook?
And then there was the matter of cremation rather than burial. It was, again, a useful--convenient--explanation for the disparity between the ingress and egress of people to bodies. She was no medical expert to know whether disease vectors could be better curtailed through burning and had no immediate cause to question this course of action. But she does know that such customers--even if efficacious--might smack against the religious customs of some in the city.
"Are all of the dead cremated?" she asks, "Or are there any whose remains are returned to kin? Shoanti, perhaps, who even though technically anonymous might be identified by tribal tattoos and then reunited for burial customs?" Elves, too, and even certain Varisian groups with stronger ties to their ink.
Criminal elements. Wererats in the sewers. A cult of Ghulander. Doctors investigating this? Why not take this directly to the Guard? Or if they're so connected to the Gray Maidens, then... Too many potential clues all at once.
Finally, Marcus relinquishes the book, and Olenna gladly takes it and begins thumbing through.
Davaulus nods gravely, ”yes, certainly. We cremate all who pass. We cannot take chances. With illness like this, the body remains infectious for some time after death, and the funeral arrangements themselves can be a vector for disease. It is painful to do this, but we have no other choice when dealing with a hemorrhagic fever. When I was in Egorian this was a very effective way of stopping a particularly nasty epidemic.”
Mags has to admit she is impressed with the twists and turns of logic from the lamp hair. Almost like whispers in alleys from her city.
Her eyes look around for anything she can see, knowing there isn't much she can do to help while remaining unseen.
Yaziyah clenches her jaw at that admission, making a mental note to speak with the elders about how funerals were handled amongst their kin for those who had died of blood veil. The doctor may have a point about contagion, but with certain precautions they could mitigate those risks while still performing the traditional rites.
Vera just stays close to Magda. The fortuneteller was providing the magic, but it was Magda who had the keen eyes. And ears. And nose. For wherever it might lead.
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Olenna looks through the pages, rapidly cataloguing and cross-referencing what she knows compared to what she is now learning as she flips rapidly through. Such tremendous death. It was staggering. There were so few survivors. Based on these records, the fatality rate was enormous. She hadn't really looked at records from anyone else dealing with the Blood Veil--if there even were any others--but these numbers. What was this hospice even doing? Simply shepherding people along to their demise? Palliative care? But then...
"Dreadful, of course," she says, her eyes lingering on the page for a moment. "It is a shame for custom to be superseded in light of the greater good. And yet, the needs of the many..." She takes a breath and chooses her next words and inflection carefully. "Out of professional curiosity, doctor," her eyes flick up to meet his gaze directly, "To what do you attribute the one hundred percent mortality rate among Varisians in your care?"
If there was a moment for him to display any weakness, perhaps now was the moment. She hopes that the others are watching as well.
Davaulus raises his eyebrows, ”interesting observation. I would have to go over my notes to confirm that. I’ve been working on these treatments so much I didn’t have much of a chance to do a larger analysis of trends. Of course, between us, to some degree it’s to be expected, right? Varisians lead such… transient lifestyles. Even in Cheliax they have attained something of a reputation.” He takes back the journal, ”I suppose this is the part where I become rude, and beg your pardon to return to my work. If there is nothing else? Perhaps Marcus and Yaziyah could join up with their companions and hunt down the lead in Old Korvosa? Olenna, we could use your help here - to work on a cure, while the others investigate the source?”
He turns to Yazi and Marcus as he snaps the rubber band back onto his journal and slips it into his coat, ”I could use someone with a keen mind to help with this for a little while. Olenna could return with information for the Field Marshal, all highly technical and complex, I would not wish to burden you two with boring and mundane alchemical theory. If you can get me some source of the plague, or capture one of the wererats - we may be able to make some progress.”
A pressure presses into Yazi's back, shaking back and forth, hopefully in a rather NO kind of way when the doctor suggests leaving.
Yaziyah's insides clench as Olenna gives voice to her discovery, and she can barely contain her rage at the doctor's insulting remarks. She would like nothing better to be far, far away from him, lest she loses her temper and snaps him in two. But, there are more important things at stake.
"Perhaps we can be of use here as well, I have some knowledge of medicine. What have you tried so far? We had a measure of success with an alchemical concoction, it seemed to improve the chances of fighting the disease, or prevent contracting it in the first place."
To be expected? A reputation? What a crass statement.
Though it wasn't one that would be out of place amongst the noble houses. To her eye, Dr. Davaulus looks a good bit less attractive with such drivel coming out of his mouth.
And then he invites her to stay. She purses her lips. She hadn't even really referenced her familiarity with alchemical theory, and he didn't seem to know her by prior reputation. What had she done to tip herself off, she wonders? Though, to be fair, her focus with biochemistry had not really been in virology, or really much medical at all, and so she isn't sure how much help she could be.
"Medicine isn't really my specialty," she says with a frown and a nod. "Though I appreciate your confidence in my untested abilities. It sounds like Yaziyah has more experience than I do, though I could help bridge the gap between knowledge and experience."
She was not keen to stay by herself. She'd much rather return back to speak with Kroft first. There was too much suspicious here, and too much at stake. Even if Kroft pulled her off this case, this knowledge had to get out.
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He blinks, ”oh, Vendra’s concoction. Yes. I’m afraid I tested it and it doesn’t help me in my goals very much. She’s a notorious snake oil saleswoman. If you were involved in making the new linament… I expect that you were deceived by her, unfortunately.” He smiles sadly, ”and I think I really need less brawn and more brains in this endeavor. None of the… ‘traditional remedies’… of the Shoanti would work.” He shakes his head, ”you offered to help but I think these wererats are a task better suited for your particular skills, Yaziyah. We wouldn’t want them to make that community center of yours sick, would we?” He smiles slightly at her.
Oh, that was it! What a smug, insufferable prick! And was that a threat? Clearly there was nothing further to be gained here, and Yaziyah felt that if she spent one more moment in the dubious company of this... this self-important a*%%*%% she would snap and show him some brains - his own.
She glares at him, her jaw clenched and teeth grinding. "None of those remedies achieved a 100% mortality rate in any population group, so perhaps it would behoove you to be a little more humble. Good day." She turns to leave, careful not to bump into Magda.
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Marcus keeps a passive face throughout the encounter. Well, passive for him anyways, the frown remaining at the same level of sharpness.
He allows the others to go back and forth for a moment, considering the situation. There was an opportunity here, he need only find it.
”We wouldn’t want them to make that community center of yours sick, would we?” He smiles slightly at her.
Perhaps the Gray Maidens noticed. Perhaps Yazi noticed. It was subtle, but after the doctor mentioned the community center, Marcus's nostrils flared briefly and his stance widened just the tinniest bit.
To those not trained in the harsh clash of melee combat, it would be imperceptible, or at most just a slight shift. A grumpy fighter still keeping a watch for any danger, in standby mode.
But for those with the right eye...it was a dangerous shift. He was no longer passively preparing for the chance of violence. His eyes traced the ground, reading the distance between himself and each Maiden. The location of the exits. Where the doctor's hand was moving, if it was going out of sight.
His hackles were up.
As Yazi moves to pass Marcus puts a hand in front of her; nothing that would physically prevent her from leaving, but enough to give her pause. He locks eyes with her. He breathes in slowly, taking a fully breath, then lets it back out slowly. Then he moves his gaze to the doctor.
"Of course doctor. Anything we can do to help...However, I need to ask, because our skills are only effective when pointed in the right direction, for some...clarification." He puts his hand down and slowly walks around the desk, making it impossible for Davaulus to hide his face, particularly his right side. He gets close to the doctor. Not so close to be inappropriate or weird, but close enough that his massive frame puts the doctor into a shadow. "Could you help me understand better what the threat to the Community Center is?" As he says this his right lip twitches, like it's trying to approach something resembling a sneer. His gaze is diamond-hard, boring through Davaulus's skull.
It's suddenly all too real just how small Davaulus is compared to Marcus.