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Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
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Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Guest Mon Mar 21, 2011 9:09 pm
"They used to say that at the Edge of Oblivion, where the drawn maps end and fail to articulate…that monsters existed. But that was ages ago; I know much differently now…"
Central was as vibrant and bustling as usual; it was mid-morning and most had already managed to get their shops opened on time, likely to be leaving the straggling few who hadn't in poor lucrative standings by lunch time. The unforgettable aroma of freshly baked bread permeated the avenue with the warming scent of a home-cooked breakfast, although the nearest meat-market was several blocks away and there hadn't been a single milk man in sight. The smell of buttered scones, toast, and oatmeal wafting about was more than enough to weaken a hungry stomach's last waning vestiges of resolve. You could hear most vendors waxing on about their wares, some poetically as any famed prose – others merely stating pointedly the advantages they held over the rest. None of it true. As you walked along the weathered brickwork of the boulevard, you noticed a great many things cropping up on either side; but nothing proved more prominent a feature than the clinic nestled just a stone's throw from the fine-smelling bakery across the street.
"The world isn't as small as I believed it to be as a child. Youthful idealism fades, after all. And it's replaced by something far more frightening than any 'monster'. It is replaced by truth."
It was a tall building, intentionally made more larger-than-life by an elaborate sign-post that rose above the structure's actual height like some sort of composite crown. But when you thought about it, it was likely a fitting analogy for someone who was regarded more than recently as "the best of the best". Etched in the finest gold letters – emblazoned atop a backdrop that had been painted the faintest lily-white – was a simple title and name: 'Dr. Ever Goodnight's Pharmacy & Clinic'. Though remarkably straightforward, it was scripted in fanciful cursive handwriting that was difficult to make sense of at first glance, likely done by an actual doctor's hand and enlarged for the billboard itself. Neon lights might have been the only flagrant ornamentation left upon a gaudy list of others, yet had been foregone out of some unspoken courtesy by the designer of the establishment. Nonetheless, the ever-present scent of bread worked well in taming the garish design and allowed the clinic to fit seamlessly into the design of the district, smothering all outlandishness with an otherworldly, rich aroma. It was synergy at its finest; Feng Shui, even. Feng Shui covered in fudge.
"Nonetheless, we as humans constantly strive to return to childhood, to that innocence, despite knowing it remains forever out of reach. Why? Why crave for that unobtainable purity again? The answer's pretty simple, actually… "
The interior was nowhere near as horrid, but doused in the sort of things that smacked less of a clinic and more of high-class brothels with a heavy gothic bend. There were curtains cut of frilly black lace – the furniture was more like cushioned shapes fashioned for household use – and there was very little that could be positively said of the gargoyle reliefs carved into every corner of the lobby. The waiting room had two couches – that looked more like loveseats – one lined against the adjacent wall whilst the other jutted out at an unusual angle, like a pair of open legs leading into the examination room. Immediately upon entry, the scent of strawberries flooded the senses, likely competing with the smell of medical chemicals and compounds kept somewhere in the back. It wasn't too bad and it didn't compete with the bread at all, instead forming a synchronous treat for all who entered, but there was just something strange about walking into a medical facility that smelled more like an ice-cream shop serving out debauchery two scoops at a time. Not far from the waiting area was a receptionist's desk that sat a particularly cheery looking woman somewhere in her twenties, but looked scantly a day past her teens. She wore a black-and-crimson take on a traditional nurse's ensemble, complete with the little cap with the "+" on it. Of course, the ripped fishnet stockings and the knee-high platform heels as black as her lipstick had been her own little additions, along with dagger-shaped earrings that were likely as lethal as they seemed.
"It's much more favorable to hear a pretty lie than the ugly truth. We want to believe in the falsehoods our parents feed us, or that the world would have us devour ravenously. But instead, we're bludgeoned with the almost-obvious from the very start… "
Ordinarily, the girl– Cossette was her name – was little less than an unusual oddity to be glanced over and inherently ignored, or written off as some cosplayer out of her natural otaku element. Most people around Central typically accepted such things as a cultural difference, or with complete indifference altogether. But not with Cossette. Even in fitting business attire and revealing far less cleavage than she often liked, she was simply a very creepy girl – the kind most typically avoided for reasons they couldn't even comprehend. You see, before you could ever set foot into Dr. Goodnight's Clinic, Cossette was already smiling at you. As if she had seen you past the door, through the wall, having approached from the very start of the street; and, in some insane fashion, she'd been wearing her Cheshire cat grin the entire time. Although the eclectic doctor was known for his skill with medicine, he was known more for his extreme eccentricities and this gothic lolita of a receptionist was a definitive example of the sort.
"…we are the monsters at the edge of the map."
Cossette had just finished jabbing a little needle into a small hand-held doll that resembled a gray-skinned zombie outfitted in a fine black suit, when she peeked up toward the door, expecting the next visitor or client to stroll through the door. It would have been good fortune, after all. You see…
…The Doctor was in.
Central was as vibrant and bustling as usual; it was mid-morning and most had already managed to get their shops opened on time, likely to be leaving the straggling few who hadn't in poor lucrative standings by lunch time. The unforgettable aroma of freshly baked bread permeated the avenue with the warming scent of a home-cooked breakfast, although the nearest meat-market was several blocks away and there hadn't been a single milk man in sight. The smell of buttered scones, toast, and oatmeal wafting about was more than enough to weaken a hungry stomach's last waning vestiges of resolve. You could hear most vendors waxing on about their wares, some poetically as any famed prose – others merely stating pointedly the advantages they held over the rest. None of it true. As you walked along the weathered brickwork of the boulevard, you noticed a great many things cropping up on either side; but nothing proved more prominent a feature than the clinic nestled just a stone's throw from the fine-smelling bakery across the street.
"The world isn't as small as I believed it to be as a child. Youthful idealism fades, after all. And it's replaced by something far more frightening than any 'monster'. It is replaced by truth."
It was a tall building, intentionally made more larger-than-life by an elaborate sign-post that rose above the structure's actual height like some sort of composite crown. But when you thought about it, it was likely a fitting analogy for someone who was regarded more than recently as "the best of the best". Etched in the finest gold letters – emblazoned atop a backdrop that had been painted the faintest lily-white – was a simple title and name: 'Dr. Ever Goodnight's Pharmacy & Clinic'. Though remarkably straightforward, it was scripted in fanciful cursive handwriting that was difficult to make sense of at first glance, likely done by an actual doctor's hand and enlarged for the billboard itself. Neon lights might have been the only flagrant ornamentation left upon a gaudy list of others, yet had been foregone out of some unspoken courtesy by the designer of the establishment. Nonetheless, the ever-present scent of bread worked well in taming the garish design and allowed the clinic to fit seamlessly into the design of the district, smothering all outlandishness with an otherworldly, rich aroma. It was synergy at its finest; Feng Shui, even. Feng Shui covered in fudge.
"Nonetheless, we as humans constantly strive to return to childhood, to that innocence, despite knowing it remains forever out of reach. Why? Why crave for that unobtainable purity again? The answer's pretty simple, actually… "
The interior was nowhere near as horrid, but doused in the sort of things that smacked less of a clinic and more of high-class brothels with a heavy gothic bend. There were curtains cut of frilly black lace – the furniture was more like cushioned shapes fashioned for household use – and there was very little that could be positively said of the gargoyle reliefs carved into every corner of the lobby. The waiting room had two couches – that looked more like loveseats – one lined against the adjacent wall whilst the other jutted out at an unusual angle, like a pair of open legs leading into the examination room. Immediately upon entry, the scent of strawberries flooded the senses, likely competing with the smell of medical chemicals and compounds kept somewhere in the back. It wasn't too bad and it didn't compete with the bread at all, instead forming a synchronous treat for all who entered, but there was just something strange about walking into a medical facility that smelled more like an ice-cream shop serving out debauchery two scoops at a time. Not far from the waiting area was a receptionist's desk that sat a particularly cheery looking woman somewhere in her twenties, but looked scantly a day past her teens. She wore a black-and-crimson take on a traditional nurse's ensemble, complete with the little cap with the "+" on it. Of course, the ripped fishnet stockings and the knee-high platform heels as black as her lipstick had been her own little additions, along with dagger-shaped earrings that were likely as lethal as they seemed.
"It's much more favorable to hear a pretty lie than the ugly truth. We want to believe in the falsehoods our parents feed us, or that the world would have us devour ravenously. But instead, we're bludgeoned with the almost-obvious from the very start… "
Ordinarily, the girl– Cossette was her name – was little less than an unusual oddity to be glanced over and inherently ignored, or written off as some cosplayer out of her natural otaku element. Most people around Central typically accepted such things as a cultural difference, or with complete indifference altogether. But not with Cossette. Even in fitting business attire and revealing far less cleavage than she often liked, she was simply a very creepy girl – the kind most typically avoided for reasons they couldn't even comprehend. You see, before you could ever set foot into Dr. Goodnight's Clinic, Cossette was already smiling at you. As if she had seen you past the door, through the wall, having approached from the very start of the street; and, in some insane fashion, she'd been wearing her Cheshire cat grin the entire time. Although the eclectic doctor was known for his skill with medicine, he was known more for his extreme eccentricities and this gothic lolita of a receptionist was a definitive example of the sort.
"…we are the monsters at the edge of the map."
Cossette had just finished jabbing a little needle into a small hand-held doll that resembled a gray-skinned zombie outfitted in a fine black suit, when she peeked up toward the door, expecting the next visitor or client to stroll through the door. It would have been good fortune, after all. You see…
…The Doctor was in.
Guest- Guest
Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Jay Furor Mon Mar 21, 2011 10:29 pm
(~(I'm going to attempt to reply as lengthily as you originally posted. xD And bravo, that's the longest post I've ever seen! ^^)~)
Jay walked through Central, casually examining the sights of the city around her. Central was as active as it always was, people hustling and bustling about, running around in circles and whatnot. Jay had no use for the busy city life of these people. Frankly, they led boring and average lives. People like that weren't really people to whom Jay enjoyed the company of. She much prefered the nightlife of the town, when the city showed it's true colors- Drug dealers, prostitutes, gangs, drive by's and such. She'd grown fond of the life of a hired killer and was readjusting to her military life. It was hard work changing from militant to assassin and back. Even now she was getting back into the lines. She had already managed to clear her criminal record before reapplying, and now she just had to do a few tasks before she was ready again for militant life. Among these was a routine checkup, which she was currently going to. She'd made an appointment with a Dr. Ever Goodnight, a recommended doctor by some of the militants at her new station in Central. She came from her thoughts as she neared his office.
Jay stopped to marvel at the building's appearance. It was pretty big, with a few decorations placed around it, making it seem almost more like a billboard than a building. But for all it's size, it still looked similar to a lot of the other structures around the giant megacity. Still it was a pretty nice place, and had a large amount of appeal to it. Jay wondered how the innards of the place would seem. Furthermore, she was curious as to what the doctor was like. With a name like Goodnight, she couldn't help but imagine whether the name fit him or not, or how it would...
Jay walked into the clinic and was immediately stricken by the gothic ensemble before her. It was a lot more her style than the building's outer walls were, and made her feel much more at home here. She walked towards the receptionist's desk for her appointment. She looked over the woman there. She was dressed in black and red, with black lipstick to match. She also had on a pair of dagger ear rings. And to top it all off, she had on an eerily disturbing smile. She was the kind of person most people would shy away from, labelling her as a freak. Jay was not most people. She gave a smile of her own and offered a friendly wave to the girl. "Hi, I'm Jay Furor. I had an appointment for a physical. Is the doctor in right now?"
(~(Stunningly, I got out half of what you did, and still doubled my usual output. xD)~)
Jay walked through Central, casually examining the sights of the city around her. Central was as active as it always was, people hustling and bustling about, running around in circles and whatnot. Jay had no use for the busy city life of these people. Frankly, they led boring and average lives. People like that weren't really people to whom Jay enjoyed the company of. She much prefered the nightlife of the town, when the city showed it's true colors- Drug dealers, prostitutes, gangs, drive by's and such. She'd grown fond of the life of a hired killer and was readjusting to her military life. It was hard work changing from militant to assassin and back. Even now she was getting back into the lines. She had already managed to clear her criminal record before reapplying, and now she just had to do a few tasks before she was ready again for militant life. Among these was a routine checkup, which she was currently going to. She'd made an appointment with a Dr. Ever Goodnight, a recommended doctor by some of the militants at her new station in Central. She came from her thoughts as she neared his office.
Jay stopped to marvel at the building's appearance. It was pretty big, with a few decorations placed around it, making it seem almost more like a billboard than a building. But for all it's size, it still looked similar to a lot of the other structures around the giant megacity. Still it was a pretty nice place, and had a large amount of appeal to it. Jay wondered how the innards of the place would seem. Furthermore, she was curious as to what the doctor was like. With a name like Goodnight, she couldn't help but imagine whether the name fit him or not, or how it would...
Jay walked into the clinic and was immediately stricken by the gothic ensemble before her. It was a lot more her style than the building's outer walls were, and made her feel much more at home here. She walked towards the receptionist's desk for her appointment. She looked over the woman there. She was dressed in black and red, with black lipstick to match. She also had on a pair of dagger ear rings. And to top it all off, she had on an eerily disturbing smile. She was the kind of person most people would shy away from, labelling her as a freak. Jay was not most people. She gave a smile of her own and offered a friendly wave to the girl. "Hi, I'm Jay Furor. I had an appointment for a physical. Is the doctor in right now?"
(~(Stunningly, I got out half of what you did, and still doubled my usual output. xD)~)
Jay Furor- MDA'S MASCOT
- Posts : 842
Points : 4
Location : Wherever I Am
-Case File-
Level: ∞
Rank: 2nd in Central Command
Writer: Jay
Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Guest Tue Mar 22, 2011 1:56 am
((No worries. It's all in the name of fun, no?))
"You just have to wonder sometimes. Exactly what happens when two monsters come across one another? Has the thought ever crossed your mind? I mean, this world is just so big…"
Cossette reacted in an almost mechanical manner, which had been practiced several times over throughout her professional tenure with the Good Doctor; she gave a brief bow of her head and flashed a small wave with her dainty little hand. "Bonjour!" Even if unfamiliar with the language, even deaf ears could tell that Cossette's undeniably French accent was undoubtedly fake. And it wasn't that she didn't give it her best effort, but because the girl's thick Amestrian blocked out any attempt at anything else, be it Xingese, Aerugese, French, or otherwise. However, her smile beamed with authenticity, however disturbingly charming as it was. And, at some point, it appeared that she and Jay shared in some unspoken moment – where their unnerving smiles spoke volumes. Two unusual people had met on equal ground and regarded each other accordingly: like pit viper politely engaging a mongoose at striking distance, wary of the rodent's rapid reflexes and ability to dodge.
"There's no way such encounters are avoidable, is there? Far too many have sailed off the edges of the map, seeking what devious creatures lay beyond. But the truth is like glaring into the mirror, really…"
"Jay Furor…Jay...Furor, hmm. Let's see here…Furor…" The lolita didn't tarry for a second, quickly rifling through the file-cabinet beside her until she could find and fish the woman's appointment paperwork out. She skimmed it swiftly with a slightly bemused expression before pasting her award-winning smile back on and speaking in that squeaky, helium voice of hers. "Aha! Here you are!" Cossette could have induced cavities with her sugary sweetness and overall enthusiasm. It was like having a kitten nuzzling your face for far too long; it became highly annoying before long, especially when the fur began to shed. Unfortunately, Cossette never seemed to notice. "You're in luck, mademoiselle! The Doctor has been in all morning and has an open schedule for today. Allow me to buzz you in, oui?"
" So why do I see another's face now, one whose features are nothing like my own?"
With a slight analogue buzz from the other side of the desk, the door leading to the examination room creaked open with a gust of strawberry scented incense rolling out from the mysterious held within. And with the lovely aroma arose a set of strikingly expensive leather shoes. They jutted from the pinkish smoke awkwardly, almost as though kicking an imaginary foe out of the way, and they hung there on outstretched legs for a few seconds before suddenly descending to the floor without so much as a sound. A figure slowly followed, raised on unbelievably long and slender legs that fit black slacks almost too well. The Doctor lurched from the doorway, having first ducked down to avoid knocking his forehead on the frame. He was tall, remarkably so, but that was not what made him stand out – nor was it the immaculately fashionable way the man dressed. No. It was his skin. It was gray, as ashen as soot. He looked more like a zombie than anything else; a remarkably handsome zombie with gorgeous wavy black hair down to his neckline and nearly golden eyes…but a zombie nonetheless. Not unlike a blue-blooded noble, Dr. Goodnight rose in regal posture and quickly swept an all-too-grandiose bow with his right hand folded across his chest.
"There is another serpent in my midsts…and I can only stand and ponder. 'Does it see me standing here?' Do I attack first and risk losing my advantage? Do I stay my fangs here and wait?"
"Good morning, mademoiselle. 'Tis a pleasure to have you choose my humble establishment above so many others…you have my sincerest gratitude, fair lady." His delivery was perfect, as was the rest of him. The sheer confidence he exuded from every pore threatened to rip free of the clothing which could scarcely restrain it, yet thankfully didn't. When he straightened to his full height, he met Jay's eyes for a brief second and remained locked there a while, as though fixing the woman with a predatory glare hidden beneath the guise of proper etiquette and poise for a true gentleman. He was flawless, honestly. Even beyond his physical beauty, there was something about Ever Goodnight that made him stand out, even in the dead of night. "So, a physical, was it?" When he spoke, his body language engaged the dialogue, seamlessly flowing into a montage of spoken word and poetic gesture. His hand graced across her shoulder in the gentlest way, ushering her closer to his chest only to step away at the last second, deftly avoiding a hug and allowing her entry to the room beyond. "Right this way, if you please."
"I want to sate this horrid desire, to appease the cravings of the flesh…for I NEED this…I've YEARNED for this…to taste the passion of another one who is like me…"
The hand that had never left her shoulder gradually moved as they walked down the narrow hall leading to the examination. At first, it had merely been a thoughtless gesture of courtesy, but as it remained there, it became increasingly awkward as time wore on. He just walked; smiling sweetly, with his hand bolstered there, fingers nearly massaging her collarbone with a hand that was fully capable of snapping her neck. Was this some sort of sexual harassment? It seemed like it, especially when his fingers slithered past her shoulder, down her back, and past where a bra strap might have fastened. His golden glare turned more serious as he did this, saying nothing at first if the woman offered any startled protest, but finally spoke up before anything profane could be uttered in annoyance. You see, Ever was a professional. Just his methods were unorthodox.
"I want to kill…another killer. One who is trying to kill me."
"Ms. Furor…" His voice was fairly deep, but it dropped an octave when he was serious. It was like being reprimanded by a father you never knew you had. "I'm assuming you're in a profession that requires a great deal of manual labor," he mused, "Like the military, perhaps? Your shoulder feels very tense, you see…like metal." the doctor explained before politely moving his hand away and gesturing to the last room on the left. There was very little of notice inside: a medical table, a pair of chairs, a mobile lamp, and some machines few knew the purpose of. Upon entering the room, the ashen-skinned doctor took Jay's hand, dramatically dropping to one knee to sweetly kiss the woman's knuckles as part of some out-dated gesture of courtship – which was odd, considering she was a client, and a stranger no less. But as his delicate lips brushed softly over her digits, his thumb ran along the underside. It felt hard, as though callused. She was either used to handling weapons for a living, or was one hell of a gardener in her spare time. The discovery only added to his intrigue. He loved puzzles with every fiber of his being, and what better puzzles were there to unlock than the mysteries of the human psyche?
"…this dark desire overwhelms me, even now. Her neck, only inches away, her blood throbbing within her veins—I feel almost like a vampire yearning to drink."
"…your hands are quite…rough, if you do not mind my saying so. Is this also an occupational occurrence?" He felt he was right; although guessing her profession was a moot venture, honestly. He just liked being right; name one egoist that didn't. Fanning away the question before she could answer, Dr. Goodnight slipped behind a mask of professionalism and placed a hand on his hip, eyes dulling with growing boredom already. This girl didn't seem too difficult. He could summarize her in one glance, he theorized. Her personal appearance was average at best and he couldn't see that she wore much, if any make-up at all. Her hair was kept in a virtually contemporary style that appeared to favor freedom and functionality over any sort of style. And her choice of attire was so bland that Ever toyed with the sarcastic notion of sprinkling the poor girl with hot-sauce for dramatic effect. Jay screamed militant, street-urchin, book-worm, or some combination of the aforementioned. But there was something else, something that didn't quite fit the description to the letter. He took a closer look.
"Another monster, this way comes …so close, too close to my grasp. But I, under my mask that must not shatter, am too cautious to act just yet…"
"…ah, I see. Automail. No wonder the skin-texture felt a little off. Let me guess, custom polymer flesh-tone latex? Your mechanic is quite skilled, my dear." Ever leaned down, almost touching his nose with hers to meet the shorter woman at eye-level. Those eyes, steely gray and almost devoid of anything he could recognize as emotion; they looked so very familiar. "My experience with Automail is severely limited. However, I will do my best to accommodate…" He reached over and retrieved his stethoscope from the nearby countertop, placing the earpieces into his ears. Taking up the chestpiece between his fingers, he urged Jay to have a seat comfortably onto the examination table. "I am going to ask you sit here, s’il vous plaît. I am going to listen to your heart. Just try to relax, oui?"
"You just have to wonder sometimes. Exactly what happens when two monsters come across one another? Has the thought ever crossed your mind? I mean, this world is just so big…"
Cossette reacted in an almost mechanical manner, which had been practiced several times over throughout her professional tenure with the Good Doctor; she gave a brief bow of her head and flashed a small wave with her dainty little hand. "Bonjour!" Even if unfamiliar with the language, even deaf ears could tell that Cossette's undeniably French accent was undoubtedly fake. And it wasn't that she didn't give it her best effort, but because the girl's thick Amestrian blocked out any attempt at anything else, be it Xingese, Aerugese, French, or otherwise. However, her smile beamed with authenticity, however disturbingly charming as it was. And, at some point, it appeared that she and Jay shared in some unspoken moment – where their unnerving smiles spoke volumes. Two unusual people had met on equal ground and regarded each other accordingly: like pit viper politely engaging a mongoose at striking distance, wary of the rodent's rapid reflexes and ability to dodge.
"There's no way such encounters are avoidable, is there? Far too many have sailed off the edges of the map, seeking what devious creatures lay beyond. But the truth is like glaring into the mirror, really…"
"Jay Furor…Jay...Furor, hmm. Let's see here…Furor…" The lolita didn't tarry for a second, quickly rifling through the file-cabinet beside her until she could find and fish the woman's appointment paperwork out. She skimmed it swiftly with a slightly bemused expression before pasting her award-winning smile back on and speaking in that squeaky, helium voice of hers. "Aha! Here you are!" Cossette could have induced cavities with her sugary sweetness and overall enthusiasm. It was like having a kitten nuzzling your face for far too long; it became highly annoying before long, especially when the fur began to shed. Unfortunately, Cossette never seemed to notice. "You're in luck, mademoiselle! The Doctor has been in all morning and has an open schedule for today. Allow me to buzz you in, oui?"
" So why do I see another's face now, one whose features are nothing like my own?"
With a slight analogue buzz from the other side of the desk, the door leading to the examination room creaked open with a gust of strawberry scented incense rolling out from the mysterious held within. And with the lovely aroma arose a set of strikingly expensive leather shoes. They jutted from the pinkish smoke awkwardly, almost as though kicking an imaginary foe out of the way, and they hung there on outstretched legs for a few seconds before suddenly descending to the floor without so much as a sound. A figure slowly followed, raised on unbelievably long and slender legs that fit black slacks almost too well. The Doctor lurched from the doorway, having first ducked down to avoid knocking his forehead on the frame. He was tall, remarkably so, but that was not what made him stand out – nor was it the immaculately fashionable way the man dressed. No. It was his skin. It was gray, as ashen as soot. He looked more like a zombie than anything else; a remarkably handsome zombie with gorgeous wavy black hair down to his neckline and nearly golden eyes…but a zombie nonetheless. Not unlike a blue-blooded noble, Dr. Goodnight rose in regal posture and quickly swept an all-too-grandiose bow with his right hand folded across his chest.
"There is another serpent in my midsts…and I can only stand and ponder. 'Does it see me standing here?' Do I attack first and risk losing my advantage? Do I stay my fangs here and wait?"
"Good morning, mademoiselle. 'Tis a pleasure to have you choose my humble establishment above so many others…you have my sincerest gratitude, fair lady." His delivery was perfect, as was the rest of him. The sheer confidence he exuded from every pore threatened to rip free of the clothing which could scarcely restrain it, yet thankfully didn't. When he straightened to his full height, he met Jay's eyes for a brief second and remained locked there a while, as though fixing the woman with a predatory glare hidden beneath the guise of proper etiquette and poise for a true gentleman. He was flawless, honestly. Even beyond his physical beauty, there was something about Ever Goodnight that made him stand out, even in the dead of night. "So, a physical, was it?" When he spoke, his body language engaged the dialogue, seamlessly flowing into a montage of spoken word and poetic gesture. His hand graced across her shoulder in the gentlest way, ushering her closer to his chest only to step away at the last second, deftly avoiding a hug and allowing her entry to the room beyond. "Right this way, if you please."
"I want to sate this horrid desire, to appease the cravings of the flesh…for I NEED this…I've YEARNED for this…to taste the passion of another one who is like me…"
The hand that had never left her shoulder gradually moved as they walked down the narrow hall leading to the examination. At first, it had merely been a thoughtless gesture of courtesy, but as it remained there, it became increasingly awkward as time wore on. He just walked; smiling sweetly, with his hand bolstered there, fingers nearly massaging her collarbone with a hand that was fully capable of snapping her neck. Was this some sort of sexual harassment? It seemed like it, especially when his fingers slithered past her shoulder, down her back, and past where a bra strap might have fastened. His golden glare turned more serious as he did this, saying nothing at first if the woman offered any startled protest, but finally spoke up before anything profane could be uttered in annoyance. You see, Ever was a professional. Just his methods were unorthodox.
"I want to kill…another killer. One who is trying to kill me."
"Ms. Furor…" His voice was fairly deep, but it dropped an octave when he was serious. It was like being reprimanded by a father you never knew you had. "I'm assuming you're in a profession that requires a great deal of manual labor," he mused, "Like the military, perhaps? Your shoulder feels very tense, you see…like metal." the doctor explained before politely moving his hand away and gesturing to the last room on the left. There was very little of notice inside: a medical table, a pair of chairs, a mobile lamp, and some machines few knew the purpose of. Upon entering the room, the ashen-skinned doctor took Jay's hand, dramatically dropping to one knee to sweetly kiss the woman's knuckles as part of some out-dated gesture of courtship – which was odd, considering she was a client, and a stranger no less. But as his delicate lips brushed softly over her digits, his thumb ran along the underside. It felt hard, as though callused. She was either used to handling weapons for a living, or was one hell of a gardener in her spare time. The discovery only added to his intrigue. He loved puzzles with every fiber of his being, and what better puzzles were there to unlock than the mysteries of the human psyche?
"…this dark desire overwhelms me, even now. Her neck, only inches away, her blood throbbing within her veins—I feel almost like a vampire yearning to drink."
"…your hands are quite…rough, if you do not mind my saying so. Is this also an occupational occurrence?" He felt he was right; although guessing her profession was a moot venture, honestly. He just liked being right; name one egoist that didn't. Fanning away the question before she could answer, Dr. Goodnight slipped behind a mask of professionalism and placed a hand on his hip, eyes dulling with growing boredom already. This girl didn't seem too difficult. He could summarize her in one glance, he theorized. Her personal appearance was average at best and he couldn't see that she wore much, if any make-up at all. Her hair was kept in a virtually contemporary style that appeared to favor freedom and functionality over any sort of style. And her choice of attire was so bland that Ever toyed with the sarcastic notion of sprinkling the poor girl with hot-sauce for dramatic effect. Jay screamed militant, street-urchin, book-worm, or some combination of the aforementioned. But there was something else, something that didn't quite fit the description to the letter. He took a closer look.
"Another monster, this way comes …so close, too close to my grasp. But I, under my mask that must not shatter, am too cautious to act just yet…"
"…ah, I see. Automail. No wonder the skin-texture felt a little off. Let me guess, custom polymer flesh-tone latex? Your mechanic is quite skilled, my dear." Ever leaned down, almost touching his nose with hers to meet the shorter woman at eye-level. Those eyes, steely gray and almost devoid of anything he could recognize as emotion; they looked so very familiar. "My experience with Automail is severely limited. However, I will do my best to accommodate…" He reached over and retrieved his stethoscope from the nearby countertop, placing the earpieces into his ears. Taking up the chestpiece between his fingers, he urged Jay to have a seat comfortably onto the examination table. "I am going to ask you sit here, s’il vous plaît. I am going to listen to your heart. Just try to relax, oui?"
Guest- Guest
Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Jay Furor Tue Mar 22, 2011 10:59 pm
(~(xD How strange... On V1, there was a nation of my own called Frostdeath, where Frostdeathian was French... ^^)~)
Jay smiled at the girl's french greeting, although with an obvious Amestrian accent. "Bonjour`, mademoiselle! So nice to make your aquanttance, no?" Jay kept up her almost spit-shined and polished smile, which although genuine in this case, was often used falsely. Jay had spent most of her life using it to manipulate her enemies into whatever she wished them to do. She had also used it to gain friends, people who would have her back in any case. Jay noticed as well that the girl had the same smile as her, two people the same in different forms looking into the other's eyes, as if in a mirror into another world. Life was certainly a strange creature, full of coincedences and fate-inspired events, often of the strangest magnitude...
Jay was snapped from her thoughts as Cosette found her paperwork. She had an unnerving voice and persona, as if to compliment her appearance. Again, most would fear this girl for being different. Likewise, they would fear Jay for her own differences. As a matter of fact, Jay actually liked Cosette's sugar-overdosed tone and her gothic appearance. Jay herself had a voice seemingly dripped in the sweetest rose nectar, with the physical appearance of a woman in child's clothes, with her tube top and black miniskirt. Then there was the desert eagle at her hip and her Xerxian Jade katana at her back. She looked as if she was constantly in battle.
Jay watched then as the doctor himself came from the room nearby. She was attacked at once by the scent of strawberries again but it was a sweet one, one to be enjoyed. The doctor was very tall and had gray skin, making him look almost like a statue or a monster than a man. But he was a man nonetheless, and Jay looked over him, as she did everyone she met. He had black hair and nice clothes of course but what stuck with her wasn't the skin or height, but his eyes. he had Darkamaru's eyes, eyes belonging to, as Jay knew, people with Xerxian blood. It wasn't anything important of course, but it was still intriguing to her. Jay watched again as he bowed very courteously, and she in turn gave a bow, as if she were a miming student, attempting to mimic her teacher.
Jay listened also to his charming voice as he spoke. It was rich and familiar to any stranger who may walk into his office. "Bonjour, et bonjour a vous, mon bon monsieur." She smiled gracefully, matching his charm flawlessly, with a lovely french greeting as well. As he rose and stood back to his fullest height, several inches at least above Jay, if not several feet, she replied to his question of her business there with a simple yes. Jay continued her polite, gracious smile even as he placed a hand on her shoulder. With his appearance, most women would have blushed or acted like most women would. But of course, Jay was different. Always the stand-alone. She simply stood there as if she didn't notice it. As they walked on, Jay noticed also that his hand was moving slowly further down her back. Although Jay never wore a bra, for no real reason other than her preference, she was amused at the fact that he may have tried to undo it if one had been there. Of course she wasn't worried about anything, and indeed Jay was almost fearless in all cases.
As the doctor predicted her career, she smiled still. "Yeah, you guessed right. Former Lieutenant Colonel at Certa, current Staff Seargeant at Central." As they entered the room and the doctor kneeled down to kiss her hand, Jay laughed, though not the romantic giggle of a girl fallen for a man, but in a casual sort of way, as if it were a joke or something almost commonplace. She had always found ancient chivalry amusing, and had always wondered why more knights bowed down for ladies, than they did slaughtering their foes. maybe she was just too bloodthirsty... The doctor then examined her rough hands, correctly of course. "Got me again. I guess I'm not you're average little girl. More like a gun-slinging battle-hungry warrior. In my blood I think." She smiled again, wondering what Goodnight was thinking.
Again, he had guessed spot on about her. "Oui, oui, the finest automail you will find in any land on earth. I'm positive you've heard of Roy De Royaume` of Frostdeath, Darkamaru Invidia V? He's amazingly a pretty well known mechanic. Has a shop in New Optain. You should meet him. He speaks french hundreds of times better than me. His native language even." She smiled pleasantly again. She always enjoyed bragging about her friend. She then removed the automail coverings, exposing her forest green metallic legs and left arm. "Crafted from Xerxian Jadestone. Basically priceless even. And don't worry, there shouldn't be much to accomodate for." She then laid back and relaxed on the table. "Ready when you are, Doc."
Jay smiled at the girl's french greeting, although with an obvious Amestrian accent. "Bonjour`, mademoiselle! So nice to make your aquanttance, no?" Jay kept up her almost spit-shined and polished smile, which although genuine in this case, was often used falsely. Jay had spent most of her life using it to manipulate her enemies into whatever she wished them to do. She had also used it to gain friends, people who would have her back in any case. Jay noticed as well that the girl had the same smile as her, two people the same in different forms looking into the other's eyes, as if in a mirror into another world. Life was certainly a strange creature, full of coincedences and fate-inspired events, often of the strangest magnitude...
Jay was snapped from her thoughts as Cosette found her paperwork. She had an unnerving voice and persona, as if to compliment her appearance. Again, most would fear this girl for being different. Likewise, they would fear Jay for her own differences. As a matter of fact, Jay actually liked Cosette's sugar-overdosed tone and her gothic appearance. Jay herself had a voice seemingly dripped in the sweetest rose nectar, with the physical appearance of a woman in child's clothes, with her tube top and black miniskirt. Then there was the desert eagle at her hip and her Xerxian Jade katana at her back. She looked as if she was constantly in battle.
Jay watched then as the doctor himself came from the room nearby. She was attacked at once by the scent of strawberries again but it was a sweet one, one to be enjoyed. The doctor was very tall and had gray skin, making him look almost like a statue or a monster than a man. But he was a man nonetheless, and Jay looked over him, as she did everyone she met. He had black hair and nice clothes of course but what stuck with her wasn't the skin or height, but his eyes. he had Darkamaru's eyes, eyes belonging to, as Jay knew, people with Xerxian blood. It wasn't anything important of course, but it was still intriguing to her. Jay watched again as he bowed very courteously, and she in turn gave a bow, as if she were a miming student, attempting to mimic her teacher.
Jay listened also to his charming voice as he spoke. It was rich and familiar to any stranger who may walk into his office. "Bonjour, et bonjour a vous, mon bon monsieur." She smiled gracefully, matching his charm flawlessly, with a lovely french greeting as well. As he rose and stood back to his fullest height, several inches at least above Jay, if not several feet, she replied to his question of her business there with a simple yes. Jay continued her polite, gracious smile even as he placed a hand on her shoulder. With his appearance, most women would have blushed or acted like most women would. But of course, Jay was different. Always the stand-alone. She simply stood there as if she didn't notice it. As they walked on, Jay noticed also that his hand was moving slowly further down her back. Although Jay never wore a bra, for no real reason other than her preference, she was amused at the fact that he may have tried to undo it if one had been there. Of course she wasn't worried about anything, and indeed Jay was almost fearless in all cases.
As the doctor predicted her career, she smiled still. "Yeah, you guessed right. Former Lieutenant Colonel at Certa, current Staff Seargeant at Central." As they entered the room and the doctor kneeled down to kiss her hand, Jay laughed, though not the romantic giggle of a girl fallen for a man, but in a casual sort of way, as if it were a joke or something almost commonplace. She had always found ancient chivalry amusing, and had always wondered why more knights bowed down for ladies, than they did slaughtering their foes. maybe she was just too bloodthirsty... The doctor then examined her rough hands, correctly of course. "Got me again. I guess I'm not you're average little girl. More like a gun-slinging battle-hungry warrior. In my blood I think." She smiled again, wondering what Goodnight was thinking.
Again, he had guessed spot on about her. "Oui, oui, the finest automail you will find in any land on earth. I'm positive you've heard of Roy De Royaume` of Frostdeath, Darkamaru Invidia V? He's amazingly a pretty well known mechanic. Has a shop in New Optain. You should meet him. He speaks french hundreds of times better than me. His native language even." She smiled pleasantly again. She always enjoyed bragging about her friend. She then removed the automail coverings, exposing her forest green metallic legs and left arm. "Crafted from Xerxian Jadestone. Basically priceless even. And don't worry, there shouldn't be much to accomodate for." She then laid back and relaxed on the table. "Ready when you are, Doc."
Jay Furor- MDA'S MASCOT
- Posts : 842
Points : 4
Location : Wherever I Am
-Case File-
Level: ∞
Rank: 2nd in Central Command
Writer: Jay
Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Guest Wed Mar 23, 2011 4:39 pm
((A pity I was not around for V1. I would have enjoyed exploring this concept of yours.))
"If you dared only to indulge my ego, I could invite you into my world…a place full of wonders, the likes you've never seen. You need only peel back the closest scab and see just how deeply the wounds go."
Ever could have been a snake-charmer for all his worth; when Jay failed to succumb to it, the man shifted naturally into a more casual tone without ever once dropping his demeanor. If this were alchemy, he'd have just done away with the rule of 'equivalent exchange' altogether, ignored a transmutation circle, and simply performed a feat of miracle while hopping on one foot. Instead of pouring more thick and likely unnecessary prose onto his client, only to have it bounce clean off, Ever took a moment out of their dialogue to press the head of his stethoscope just beneath her collarbone. He listened carefully for a few moments, observing his findings and periodically etching them upon a small notepad with sharp handwriting that sounded as though a mouse were gnawing on aluminum foil. Only when he had finished recording did he address the conversation again with a faint air of severity lingering beneath his otherwise jovial tone.
"...but as curious as you may or may not be, I am certifiably more eager press my fangs into this creature before me. This jaguar-like huntress who does not even recognize the eyes of another killer."
"Your pulse and heart rate seem well, as does your breathing. I assume that is but one of many things you can accredit to an illustrious military career, hm?" It was more of a casual compliment to Jay, meant as more subtle flirting to ease the mood. It was how Ever preferred to conduct business, male and female alike. He found that the more comfortable and well-received his clients were, the more likely they were to return in the near future. And what person out there would refuse a fine compliment that Dr. Goodnight conjured up from the depths of his rotten soul? Regardless, however, he found himself marveling upon her Automail. As he'd admitted, he knew very little about such things and when she asked about his knowledge of a certain mechanic named Darkamaru, Ever could only shake his head apologetically. He'd never heard of the man, honestly, as he had no real interest in the field of Automail research. But as he took in the sleek, polished features of her jade ensemble, Ever found himself slowly engulfed with a sensation he could only describe as awe.
"She is flawless, my jaguar. Her claws are sharpened to a razor's edge, her fangs bare not even the slightest hint of remorse for her prey. If this is not perfection, it must certainly not exist in this world. And it precisely this fact…that makes me want to ruin her with these two hands of mine."
At the sight of the metal limbs, Dr. Goodnight could only imagine how many lives were claimed on the battlefield thanks to her enhancements. All sorts of questions flooded his mind like a torrential monsoon. Had she crushed another's throat with those hands? He could imagine, really. The sound of cartilage crumpling deftly beneath the mechanical might of her fingers, flexing inward with a sickening crunch not unlike a muffled soda can. Ever shuddered to imagine having such murderous strength at his disposal—it would have put any wet dream to shame. Before he knew it, his fingertip trailed idly along the polished jade-steel, exploring the length as delicately as one would his lover's tender flesh in retrospect. If this Darkamaru truly existed, then he must have been a god amongst men to have designed something so perfectly flawless, for a woman made just as similarly. Looking at her now, how could he ever allow such a perfect specimen to leave his operating table without simply having a little peek at the wondrous things that made her gears turn? Literally and figuratively.
"It's like having the power of God at my disposal, the explicit and complete ability to make even a monstrous killer feline into little less than a mewling kitten when placed beneath my knife. Already, I want to cut her…to drench my hands in her…to feel her from the inside...and yet..."
His hands strayed from metal to flesh, the tips of his slender fingers pressing carefully yet firm; they traced along the collarbone, then just beneath her breasts (cautiously avoiding sexual harassment), and finally the diaphragm. His expression scarcely changed from point to point, instead leaving his eyebrows doing all the work. Occasionally, they would knit together – an evident thought in mind – or one would raise, then drop, and then the other. But he paused for a moment, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Hmm…" He sat back for a second, leveling his golden-tinted gaze upon the half-metal woman. "Tell me, have you had any respiratory problems lately, such as strained breathing? Headaches or fainting spells?" He leaned away for a moment, gesturing for the woman to carefully sit up while he reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small bottle and a cotton ball. He soaked the small thing in some unknown chemical and then turned back to her with a sort of mixed expression that dripped with genuine concern. "…generally, these things are particularly common amongst soldiers – considering the harsh conditions they face. What I have here is a chemical agent that, when inhaled, should do nothing…best case scenario. However…if this is what I think it is…" Although Jay wouldn't have known any wiser, the small cotton ball would be like inhaling pepper-spray no matter WHAT condition she was in. It was like a bee-sting to the sinuses. And he pressed it close to her nose. "Tell me if this stings."
"The timing is not right."
"If you dared only to indulge my ego, I could invite you into my world…a place full of wonders, the likes you've never seen. You need only peel back the closest scab and see just how deeply the wounds go."
Ever could have been a snake-charmer for all his worth; when Jay failed to succumb to it, the man shifted naturally into a more casual tone without ever once dropping his demeanor. If this were alchemy, he'd have just done away with the rule of 'equivalent exchange' altogether, ignored a transmutation circle, and simply performed a feat of miracle while hopping on one foot. Instead of pouring more thick and likely unnecessary prose onto his client, only to have it bounce clean off, Ever took a moment out of their dialogue to press the head of his stethoscope just beneath her collarbone. He listened carefully for a few moments, observing his findings and periodically etching them upon a small notepad with sharp handwriting that sounded as though a mouse were gnawing on aluminum foil. Only when he had finished recording did he address the conversation again with a faint air of severity lingering beneath his otherwise jovial tone.
"...but as curious as you may or may not be, I am certifiably more eager press my fangs into this creature before me. This jaguar-like huntress who does not even recognize the eyes of another killer."
"Your pulse and heart rate seem well, as does your breathing. I assume that is but one of many things you can accredit to an illustrious military career, hm?" It was more of a casual compliment to Jay, meant as more subtle flirting to ease the mood. It was how Ever preferred to conduct business, male and female alike. He found that the more comfortable and well-received his clients were, the more likely they were to return in the near future. And what person out there would refuse a fine compliment that Dr. Goodnight conjured up from the depths of his rotten soul? Regardless, however, he found himself marveling upon her Automail. As he'd admitted, he knew very little about such things and when she asked about his knowledge of a certain mechanic named Darkamaru, Ever could only shake his head apologetically. He'd never heard of the man, honestly, as he had no real interest in the field of Automail research. But as he took in the sleek, polished features of her jade ensemble, Ever found himself slowly engulfed with a sensation he could only describe as awe.
"She is flawless, my jaguar. Her claws are sharpened to a razor's edge, her fangs bare not even the slightest hint of remorse for her prey. If this is not perfection, it must certainly not exist in this world. And it precisely this fact…that makes me want to ruin her with these two hands of mine."
At the sight of the metal limbs, Dr. Goodnight could only imagine how many lives were claimed on the battlefield thanks to her enhancements. All sorts of questions flooded his mind like a torrential monsoon. Had she crushed another's throat with those hands? He could imagine, really. The sound of cartilage crumpling deftly beneath the mechanical might of her fingers, flexing inward with a sickening crunch not unlike a muffled soda can. Ever shuddered to imagine having such murderous strength at his disposal—it would have put any wet dream to shame. Before he knew it, his fingertip trailed idly along the polished jade-steel, exploring the length as delicately as one would his lover's tender flesh in retrospect. If this Darkamaru truly existed, then he must have been a god amongst men to have designed something so perfectly flawless, for a woman made just as similarly. Looking at her now, how could he ever allow such a perfect specimen to leave his operating table without simply having a little peek at the wondrous things that made her gears turn? Literally and figuratively.
"It's like having the power of God at my disposal, the explicit and complete ability to make even a monstrous killer feline into little less than a mewling kitten when placed beneath my knife. Already, I want to cut her…to drench my hands in her…to feel her from the inside...and yet..."
His hands strayed from metal to flesh, the tips of his slender fingers pressing carefully yet firm; they traced along the collarbone, then just beneath her breasts (cautiously avoiding sexual harassment), and finally the diaphragm. His expression scarcely changed from point to point, instead leaving his eyebrows doing all the work. Occasionally, they would knit together – an evident thought in mind – or one would raise, then drop, and then the other. But he paused for a moment, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Hmm…" He sat back for a second, leveling his golden-tinted gaze upon the half-metal woman. "Tell me, have you had any respiratory problems lately, such as strained breathing? Headaches or fainting spells?" He leaned away for a moment, gesturing for the woman to carefully sit up while he reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small bottle and a cotton ball. He soaked the small thing in some unknown chemical and then turned back to her with a sort of mixed expression that dripped with genuine concern. "…generally, these things are particularly common amongst soldiers – considering the harsh conditions they face. What I have here is a chemical agent that, when inhaled, should do nothing…best case scenario. However…if this is what I think it is…" Although Jay wouldn't have known any wiser, the small cotton ball would be like inhaling pepper-spray no matter WHAT condition she was in. It was like a bee-sting to the sinuses. And he pressed it close to her nose. "Tell me if this stings."
"The timing is not right."
Guest- Guest
Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Jay Furor Wed Mar 23, 2011 8:27 pm
(~(xD Nice comment about Dark. xD He truly was... Literally, since he was V1 Pride. But he was also teeny tiny. >xD)~)
Jay laid back calmly and surveyed the room around her. It was plain, a bit like a regular doctor's office but it seemed a bit too... Different. She would have to figure out why eventually. She felt the cold touch of a stethoscope as her heart rate was examined. Goodnight seemed to be in pretty deep thought as he worked and Jay could only just wonder what he was thinking about exactly.
Jay laughed at his compliment. "Yes, you guessed right again. You should be a fortune teller. I try to keep my organs functioning." She smiled as she replied. She was making a good attempt to be polite, part of her readjusting. She had to go from street criminal to civilized person, which to be honest was harder than the war in her opinion. Of course it was possible to do and if there's a will, and a luck of patience, there's probably gonna be a way. So she would have to find a way.
Jay noticed Ever looking over her automail, and grinned, proud to possess the one of a kind set. "Stricken with awe, are we? My reaction when I had them installed. Took me 6 weeks in the Ruins just to find the material, so it was worth it I guess. Bullet-proof, Insulated, Durable, Weather-proof, and essentially forest camoflaughed. Helped me so many times in my... job..." She said job lingeringly, as if with a slightly implied pleasure. indeed, she was speaking not of military work, but of the murders of 17 of the people that had invaded her home and taken her family. Their heads were mounted in her trophy room as a reminder that she was the best scumcollector on Earth.
At his questions, Jay responded, with a smile, "Nope. I'm feeling just fine. Breathing good and I think the one time I've ever fainted was when I had three of my limbs blown off." She then eyeballed the cotton ball he had. It seemed harmless, but Jay didn't know for sure. Whether or not it was, she would have to trust the good doctor to know what he was doing. He then held it to her face and she took a deep whiff of it. It stung like a mouthful of nails, but Jay didn't choke or flinch or even express discomfort of any variety. She simply flashed another smile and cheerily said, "Yeah it stung a bit I guess. Anything wrong from that?"
Jay laid back calmly and surveyed the room around her. It was plain, a bit like a regular doctor's office but it seemed a bit too... Different. She would have to figure out why eventually. She felt the cold touch of a stethoscope as her heart rate was examined. Goodnight seemed to be in pretty deep thought as he worked and Jay could only just wonder what he was thinking about exactly.
Jay laughed at his compliment. "Yes, you guessed right again. You should be a fortune teller. I try to keep my organs functioning." She smiled as she replied. She was making a good attempt to be polite, part of her readjusting. She had to go from street criminal to civilized person, which to be honest was harder than the war in her opinion. Of course it was possible to do and if there's a will, and a luck of patience, there's probably gonna be a way. So she would have to find a way.
Jay noticed Ever looking over her automail, and grinned, proud to possess the one of a kind set. "Stricken with awe, are we? My reaction when I had them installed. Took me 6 weeks in the Ruins just to find the material, so it was worth it I guess. Bullet-proof, Insulated, Durable, Weather-proof, and essentially forest camoflaughed. Helped me so many times in my... job..." She said job lingeringly, as if with a slightly implied pleasure. indeed, she was speaking not of military work, but of the murders of 17 of the people that had invaded her home and taken her family. Their heads were mounted in her trophy room as a reminder that she was the best scumcollector on Earth.
At his questions, Jay responded, with a smile, "Nope. I'm feeling just fine. Breathing good and I think the one time I've ever fainted was when I had three of my limbs blown off." She then eyeballed the cotton ball he had. It seemed harmless, but Jay didn't know for sure. Whether or not it was, she would have to trust the good doctor to know what he was doing. He then held it to her face and she took a deep whiff of it. It stung like a mouthful of nails, but Jay didn't choke or flinch or even express discomfort of any variety. She simply flashed another smile and cheerily said, "Yeah it stung a bit I guess. Anything wrong from that?"
Jay Furor- MDA'S MASCOT
- Posts : 842
Points : 4
Location : Wherever I Am
-Case File-
Level: ∞
Rank: 2nd in Central Command
Writer: Jay
Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Guest Sun Mar 27, 2011 11:50 am
((LMAO. I love tiny-badasses.))
The doctor's brow cinched together in a way that could have only suggested complications abound. He jotted something else down on his notepad, cryptically murmuring something under his breath that tasted of a derogatory note. When his golden eyes once again fell upon his poor client, he pressed his lips thin and attempted to at least retain some professional objectivity in the matter. It wasn't anything grave, but left untreated it could prove far more cumbersome in the future. He supposed that in all her travels and gung-ho adventures, Ms. Furor was hardly the type to concern herself about trivial matters of the flesh. She was mostly machine now, anyhow, and he could tell that she was a proud woman who was fond of her automail most of all. As he turned and faced away from her to retrieve a small bottle of pills, his face contorted – only within a split-second – to a grim mask of loathing and hatred. Few ever saw it this close and lived to tell the tale; luckily, Jay couldn't see it. His lips pulled painfully apart, tugging almost to his ears to reveal far too many rows of polished white teeth, leaving the apparent wrinkles in his face twisting into a sadistically chaotic grin.
"There is nothing wrong with you."
"It's nothing grave, Ms. Furor. It's common to soldiers, actually." He whirled back around in a somewhat grandiose fashion, sweeping one arm out to his side in that oh-so-theatrical way of his. In his hand, he extended a small pill bottle that virtually read 'eat me' in bold red font. Of course, the label said otherwise, but one could only envision the Mad Hatter offering Alice the proverbial magical drug with a hint of glee. "Tell me, have you ever heard of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease? There are a lot of factors that go into developing this condition: smoking, air-pollutants, common contaminants that soldiers are often introduced to on a daily basis. However, luckily, we were able to catch it at early onset…meaning that we can treat it before worse symptoms exist." He took her metal hand, gently stroking his thumb across her knuckles sweetly before turning the palm side up and placing the bottle in her palm.
"You are perfect. And that's why I want you so badly…"
"What you have there in your hand is Prednisolone, a corticosteroid. It should reduce any inflammation you might feel. If at any point, you feel faint throughout the day, take two of these with food and water. It should enable you to get through with little or no pain." He gestured that he could help her off the table, despite her clear capability to do so herself, without aid. He couldn't explain it really – he just wanted to touch her, in the same manner a cat could toy with its prey for hours before finally succumbing to dimmed interest. But only then could he allow himself to sink his fangs into the side of her neck, allowing the girl the sweetest bliss imaginable…for there was no greater high than the intoxication of death. Of course, the medicine wasn't what he said it was. In fact, it was something of his own design, manufactured for a misdiagnosed disease that suited his sinister scheme best. It was a medicinal farce that, when taken, would boost all of Jay's senses to the point she would feel utterly incredible…but with a price. Although the medicine boosted all of her natural senses with absolutely no harmful side-effects, it came with an addictive quality that would undoubtedly bring Jay back for more.
"…and simply cannot let you go."
With that order prescribed and filled, the doctor swept another of his grand bows and carefully went over to the nearby hand-sink to wash his hands. As he spoke, the subtle hiss of rolling water could be heard just above the low lilt of his deepened voice, beckoning the young soldier. "Ahem. If you don't mind a slight break in formality, may I ask what your plans are for lunch?" He dried his hands, carefully making his way back over to the shorter woman, whisking his slender digits through his hair to brush it back. "If you're free…would you mind accompanying me for a bite to eat?" This was Ever Goodnight's true essence; as professional as he tended to come across to others, his true charm was revealed in his casual grace and charm outside of the office.
"I'm going to eat you up."
The doctor's brow cinched together in a way that could have only suggested complications abound. He jotted something else down on his notepad, cryptically murmuring something under his breath that tasted of a derogatory note. When his golden eyes once again fell upon his poor client, he pressed his lips thin and attempted to at least retain some professional objectivity in the matter. It wasn't anything grave, but left untreated it could prove far more cumbersome in the future. He supposed that in all her travels and gung-ho adventures, Ms. Furor was hardly the type to concern herself about trivial matters of the flesh. She was mostly machine now, anyhow, and he could tell that she was a proud woman who was fond of her automail most of all. As he turned and faced away from her to retrieve a small bottle of pills, his face contorted – only within a split-second – to a grim mask of loathing and hatred. Few ever saw it this close and lived to tell the tale; luckily, Jay couldn't see it. His lips pulled painfully apart, tugging almost to his ears to reveal far too many rows of polished white teeth, leaving the apparent wrinkles in his face twisting into a sadistically chaotic grin.
"There is nothing wrong with you."
"It's nothing grave, Ms. Furor. It's common to soldiers, actually." He whirled back around in a somewhat grandiose fashion, sweeping one arm out to his side in that oh-so-theatrical way of his. In his hand, he extended a small pill bottle that virtually read 'eat me' in bold red font. Of course, the label said otherwise, but one could only envision the Mad Hatter offering Alice the proverbial magical drug with a hint of glee. "Tell me, have you ever heard of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease? There are a lot of factors that go into developing this condition: smoking, air-pollutants, common contaminants that soldiers are often introduced to on a daily basis. However, luckily, we were able to catch it at early onset…meaning that we can treat it before worse symptoms exist." He took her metal hand, gently stroking his thumb across her knuckles sweetly before turning the palm side up and placing the bottle in her palm.
"You are perfect. And that's why I want you so badly…"
"What you have there in your hand is Prednisolone, a corticosteroid. It should reduce any inflammation you might feel. If at any point, you feel faint throughout the day, take two of these with food and water. It should enable you to get through with little or no pain." He gestured that he could help her off the table, despite her clear capability to do so herself, without aid. He couldn't explain it really – he just wanted to touch her, in the same manner a cat could toy with its prey for hours before finally succumbing to dimmed interest. But only then could he allow himself to sink his fangs into the side of her neck, allowing the girl the sweetest bliss imaginable…for there was no greater high than the intoxication of death. Of course, the medicine wasn't what he said it was. In fact, it was something of his own design, manufactured for a misdiagnosed disease that suited his sinister scheme best. It was a medicinal farce that, when taken, would boost all of Jay's senses to the point she would feel utterly incredible…but with a price. Although the medicine boosted all of her natural senses with absolutely no harmful side-effects, it came with an addictive quality that would undoubtedly bring Jay back for more.
"…and simply cannot let you go."
With that order prescribed and filled, the doctor swept another of his grand bows and carefully went over to the nearby hand-sink to wash his hands. As he spoke, the subtle hiss of rolling water could be heard just above the low lilt of his deepened voice, beckoning the young soldier. "Ahem. If you don't mind a slight break in formality, may I ask what your plans are for lunch?" He dried his hands, carefully making his way back over to the shorter woman, whisking his slender digits through his hair to brush it back. "If you're free…would you mind accompanying me for a bite to eat?" This was Ever Goodnight's true essence; as professional as he tended to come across to others, his true charm was revealed in his casual grace and charm outside of the office.
"I'm going to eat you up."
Guest- Guest
Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Jay Furor Sun Mar 27, 2011 5:40 pm
(~(xD If you didn't, you would not be human. xD BTW, I think Jay is about to be raped. o.o lol)~)
Jay smiled calmly as he studied his findings. She didn't think she had any diseases, but if she did, it was nothing she couldn't handle. She was a Furor, proud and strong. Her mother was the famed Silver Arm Alchemist, her father a great soldier. She'd never had a disease or ailment for more than a day or two. In fact, she was up and recovering after a record 5 weeks after her automail was installed. She wondered merely, would the doctor find anything wrong with her at all? She doubted it very seriously. But then, he turned around with a very chesire grin plastered to his face. Oh boy... That's the famous 'Doctor is about to get paid' smile...
She continued her smile as he described her ailment. She had never heard of Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary disease, so she was intrigued slightly. At the list of causes, Jay beamed a slightly wider grin. "Ah, they blame everything on smoking these days... I tell you, I've been a smoker 3 years, never had a single thing wrong, except maybe this. Hehe, cause you broke my streak. So what are the symptoms, Doc?" She smiled casually again, her dull gray eyes not showing the cheeriness that her words conveyed. In fact, they only seemed capable of displaying apathy and blank detachment. But looks can be decieving.
Jay glanced over the medicine curiously. Up to this point, she had fully trusted the dc=octor, but one thing she was completely skeptical about was medicine. She wasn't in the pharmaceutical profession, o she had no way of knowing what she was taking. She didn't even take aspirin or Tylenol... But she didn't betray the slightest distrust in the pills. She would simply have Darky examine them later. Maybe he would find out if they were what they were supposed to be. After all, doctors can be mistaken on occassion. "Okay, I'll make sure to take them then." At his gesture, he politely inclined, not denying his unneeded help in climbing off the table. Jay had deduced that he was a bit of a chivalry nut, or perhaps that he had slightly darker intentions... Jay had a knack for personality diagnosis...
Jay started to exit, but was halted by Goodnight as he asked her plans for lunch. "Well, I was going to head back to Kanama and get something from the buffet there, but it's getting kind of late, so I might just find a bar in Central. Get a few steaks and have some drinks." She smiled again. Jay smiled a lot. It was a habit, though a good one. Brightened the mood a bit. Jay of course, accepted his offer, albeit, with the rugged grace of hers that seemed more as that of a bandit king or a mountain man than of a young girl. "Sure, I'd like that. Want to hit up the bar, or did you have any suggestions?" She smiled once more. Jay of course, wasn't considering some romantic evening or anything. She wasn't the type for that. Besides, Ever was very far from her type anyways. But she was looking forward to a sort of friendly hangout or something. That would be fun.
Jay smiled calmly as he studied his findings. She didn't think she had any diseases, but if she did, it was nothing she couldn't handle. She was a Furor, proud and strong. Her mother was the famed Silver Arm Alchemist, her father a great soldier. She'd never had a disease or ailment for more than a day or two. In fact, she was up and recovering after a record 5 weeks after her automail was installed. She wondered merely, would the doctor find anything wrong with her at all? She doubted it very seriously. But then, he turned around with a very chesire grin plastered to his face. Oh boy... That's the famous 'Doctor is about to get paid' smile...
She continued her smile as he described her ailment. She had never heard of Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary disease, so she was intrigued slightly. At the list of causes, Jay beamed a slightly wider grin. "Ah, they blame everything on smoking these days... I tell you, I've been a smoker 3 years, never had a single thing wrong, except maybe this. Hehe, cause you broke my streak. So what are the symptoms, Doc?" She smiled casually again, her dull gray eyes not showing the cheeriness that her words conveyed. In fact, they only seemed capable of displaying apathy and blank detachment. But looks can be decieving.
Jay glanced over the medicine curiously. Up to this point, she had fully trusted the dc=octor, but one thing she was completely skeptical about was medicine. She wasn't in the pharmaceutical profession, o she had no way of knowing what she was taking. She didn't even take aspirin or Tylenol... But she didn't betray the slightest distrust in the pills. She would simply have Darky examine them later. Maybe he would find out if they were what they were supposed to be. After all, doctors can be mistaken on occassion. "Okay, I'll make sure to take them then." At his gesture, he politely inclined, not denying his unneeded help in climbing off the table. Jay had deduced that he was a bit of a chivalry nut, or perhaps that he had slightly darker intentions... Jay had a knack for personality diagnosis...
Jay started to exit, but was halted by Goodnight as he asked her plans for lunch. "Well, I was going to head back to Kanama and get something from the buffet there, but it's getting kind of late, so I might just find a bar in Central. Get a few steaks and have some drinks." She smiled again. Jay smiled a lot. It was a habit, though a good one. Brightened the mood a bit. Jay of course, accepted his offer, albeit, with the rugged grace of hers that seemed more as that of a bandit king or a mountain man than of a young girl. "Sure, I'd like that. Want to hit up the bar, or did you have any suggestions?" She smiled once more. Jay of course, wasn't considering some romantic evening or anything. She wasn't the type for that. Besides, Ever was very far from her type anyways. But she was looking forward to a sort of friendly hangout or something. That would be fun.
Jay Furor- MDA'S MASCOT
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Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Guest Mon Mar 28, 2011 11:49 pm
((*gasp* Perish the thought!))
"A bar, hmm?" Ever's grin spread even more infectiously at her mentioning of such an establishment. After all, Ever knew a few places around town that weren't entirely savory. True enough, given his past, he had to know them—once upon a time, he'd been down and out on his luck and had to make ends meet in the slums. More often than not, he'd find himself lodged in the saturated dregs of humanity, struggling to scrub two cens together for a decent meal to eat. Oh, Ever remembered that period of his life all too well, especially now that Jay unknowingly touched upon the subject. Now, ordinarily, Ever never would have thought about taking a woman to such places, especially not for lunch, but Jay let off a certain kind of aroma that hinted of desert spices and freshly gleaned mountain grass. It was pleasant to those who knew how to savor such details; Ever was no slouch to such matters. Every breath of her was made more intoxicating than the last, to the point Dr. Goodnight felt entirely too absorbed. However, his face made no sign of such things—only the calm, cool, and resolute confidence of a nobleman in his prime.
"Me? A Noble? Not anymore."
Ever grasped his stove-pipe hat and walking cane upon leading Jay out of the office. He stopped only momentarily to advise Cossette that he was temporarily closing shop for lunch, to which her reply was an overly enthusiastic nod and a high-pitched: "Oui, monsieur!" With that, they two were quickly trotting along their way. Ever lead Jay briskly, walking with a sort of anxious gait that seemed like he eagerly awaited where they were heading. He wasted no time with small talk, initially, instead walking quietly as though on a leisurely stroll through town. And it would have been, were their surroundings not becoming darker and more sinister as they went. The quaint stalls and vendors of Ever's boulevard were gradually replaced with dilapidated shacks and hovels that had shady individuals glowering at the two from the inside. The scent of the lovely bakery was soon drowned out by the stench of nearby urine and body odor lingering down dark, decrepit alleyways. And the cheerful people along the streets that would usually nod and smile as a greeting, were forfeit to the roughest of hooligans and thugs Central had to offer. It didn't even seem like they were in Central any longer, especially since fewer and fewer military officials or law enforcement could be seen in sight. Nonetheless, it was apparent that the Good Doctor must have knew where they were going: They were heading into Kanama, the Slums of Central City. And Ever seemed remarkably calm, despite the fact.
"Not anymore, not Ever."
((Let's jump to another location, yeah? - The Bad House - ))
"A bar, hmm?" Ever's grin spread even more infectiously at her mentioning of such an establishment. After all, Ever knew a few places around town that weren't entirely savory. True enough, given his past, he had to know them—once upon a time, he'd been down and out on his luck and had to make ends meet in the slums. More often than not, he'd find himself lodged in the saturated dregs of humanity, struggling to scrub two cens together for a decent meal to eat. Oh, Ever remembered that period of his life all too well, especially now that Jay unknowingly touched upon the subject. Now, ordinarily, Ever never would have thought about taking a woman to such places, especially not for lunch, but Jay let off a certain kind of aroma that hinted of desert spices and freshly gleaned mountain grass. It was pleasant to those who knew how to savor such details; Ever was no slouch to such matters. Every breath of her was made more intoxicating than the last, to the point Dr. Goodnight felt entirely too absorbed. However, his face made no sign of such things—only the calm, cool, and resolute confidence of a nobleman in his prime.
"Me? A Noble? Not anymore."
Ever grasped his stove-pipe hat and walking cane upon leading Jay out of the office. He stopped only momentarily to advise Cossette that he was temporarily closing shop for lunch, to which her reply was an overly enthusiastic nod and a high-pitched: "Oui, monsieur!" With that, they two were quickly trotting along their way. Ever lead Jay briskly, walking with a sort of anxious gait that seemed like he eagerly awaited where they were heading. He wasted no time with small talk, initially, instead walking quietly as though on a leisurely stroll through town. And it would have been, were their surroundings not becoming darker and more sinister as they went. The quaint stalls and vendors of Ever's boulevard were gradually replaced with dilapidated shacks and hovels that had shady individuals glowering at the two from the inside. The scent of the lovely bakery was soon drowned out by the stench of nearby urine and body odor lingering down dark, decrepit alleyways. And the cheerful people along the streets that would usually nod and smile as a greeting, were forfeit to the roughest of hooligans and thugs Central had to offer. It didn't even seem like they were in Central any longer, especially since fewer and fewer military officials or law enforcement could be seen in sight. Nonetheless, it was apparent that the Good Doctor must have knew where they were going: They were heading into Kanama, the Slums of Central City. And Ever seemed remarkably calm, despite the fact.
"Not anymore, not Ever."
((Let's jump to another location, yeah? - The Bad House - ))
Guest- Guest
Re: Dr. Goodnight's Clinic
by Aurelius Schwartz Sun Apr 24, 2011 2:40 pm
[PM someone when a thread ends please =3]
Aurelius Schwartz- SWEAT MY RUST
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Level: 4
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Writer: Aki
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