12712/The Cure: Healing Broken Lives

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The Cure: Healing Broken Lives
Date of Scene: 06 February 2021
Location: Bushwick (Mutant Town), Brooklyn
Synopsis: Logan visits the clinic to get his groove back.
Cast of Characters: Pixie, Wolverine
Tinyplot: Mutant Cure


Pixie has posed:
Bushwick has been busy lately, what with recent terrorist activity, attacks on mutants that cost them their powers and a few attempts on Dr Brightman's life. But thanks to the Xmen and Avengers, things are starting to quiet down a bit. Starlight clinic is the central focus these days and ever since he set up shop here to administer an antidote yesterday, there have been long line ups outside the clinic.

Wolverine has posed:
"Well hell, if you're planning to live there until you retire... I'd say for sure to go with the metal roof. Otherwise, you'll be replacin' those asphalt shingles probably... once, maybe twice before ya croak."

Stuck in the line of normal-looking people, sandwiched between the normal-looking middle-aged man and the normal-looking young couple, is a man who seems normal enough, albeit on the short and hairy side.

He also looks a bit sickly, with noticeable bags under his eyes and a gaunt, haggard look about him. It's almost the kind of pallor that people get when they're on some version of chemotherapy or radiation treatment.

The young couple listens politely, as the short hairy man regales them with tales about one of the few normal subjects that he is able to talk about. It's much better to lead with carpentry rather than lead with stories about the different assassinations one remembers doing.

"Oh ho! Looks like you're up next, eh bub? Let me know how it goes, I'm suspicious of the whole process."

Pixie has posed:
Now that Brightman has hired some help, the line is at least moving along more smoothly than last night. It helps that mutants are no longer angry, suspicious, afraid..Most of them are really just hopeful, optimistic going forward. The couple smile and nod patiently to Logan, wishing him luck as he is led inside.

The receptionist is young, ever patient and friendly, smiling warmly to Logan as he enters. "Welcome! If you are here to get an antidote injection, please fill out this form and kindly wait here until your name is called." she hands him a couple of pages pinned to a little board with a pen attached.

Oh hey, there's Pixie, waiting in the lobby too. She smiles cheerfully to Logan. "Hii Mr Logan! Where you been? Glad you could make it, last night was pretty crazy but looks like things are finally calming down.."

She for the most part, looks well. Not quite back to her old self although her ginger hair seems a bit more pink today, and white her wings are not visible, the way she keeps scratching her back suggests they may be on their way back.

Wolverine has posed:
Nothing makes Logan unpleasant more quickly than paperwork, and he's especially not a fan of filling out forms. But the persistent ache in his muscles and feelings of tiredness are a constant reminder that he's slowly dying from Adamantium poisoning. So... he does his best filling out the damned forms.

The doctors are going to have a lot of fun trying to decipher his medical charts, but for the most part he simply lies on the forms to keep things moving along. Don't want to answer questions about how old he actually is when he doesn't remember any of it.

But, a familiar face. Logan's demeanor brightens up a tiny bit.

"Hey there, Half Pint... heard this dump's got the best green Jell-o this side of Westchester. Figgered I'd see for myself."

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn smiles as she watches him filling out those forms, tilting her head with some curiosity. "Sooo...How old are you, anyway? I mean...That might be an awkward question, but I think Dr Brightman can be trusted. Really! Did you know he and Dr McCoy go back some 15 years or so? Wow,I wonder how old that makes him, I mean it's like I'm the only young X-girl around..No wonder no one gets my jokes! I'll bet you old folks don't even know what an iPad is!" she giggles as she rambles on, occasionally sucking on her bright pink lollipop as she waits.

"Oh yeah, I got my jab yesterday, they said it'll take a few days for the mutations to come back..Mostly cuz if they came all at once it might be dangerous. I really hate needles but they thought I was so young they gave me a lollipop and a sticker.." orrr maybe she stole those when no one was looking...

""Oh yeah, they'll make you come back the next day to check for any side effects but no biggie! " she's still rambling on and on..Good grief, did she get into the extra dark coffee again or what?

Wolverine has posed:
Nodding politely as the young woman rambles on, and grunting occasionally, Logan looks a bit like an overworked parent listening to his kid telling him all about their Minecraft exploits. Or... whatever it is that kids are playing in the not too distant future...

But little bits of her monologue sink through from time to time.

"Hey now, I got my first iPad before you was even born, squirt. I... didn't end up using it much."

Probably another victim of Logan's neverending battle against doodads. The piles of scrap he's made over the past few decades could probably fill a couple of landfills.

Something beeps on Logan's wrist, and he grumbles.

"Time ta take out the hockey puck... hold this for a second..."

Handing the clipboard to Megan, Logan untucks the front of his shirt, and lifts it up a few inches over his beltline. There, inserted into his stomach, is some sort of mechanical port with a couple of buttons and a small display. He presses one of the buttons, and a small puck is ejected from the port, steaming a bit.

It takes a few seconds for him to stick another one in, and then he looks around for someplace to discard the old one.

"Speakin' of Dr. McCoy, I can't wait to yank his blood-scrubbin' doodad out of my guts. But... I guess it beats dialysis..."

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn is only too eager to hold his documents (And sneakily peek at his personal information,action like age, eight, his greatest fear, most embarrassing moment etc etc...No wait that's not really on there is it!?)

But when he literalky shoots a hockey puck out of his friggin' stomach, then inserts another thing, she just...Stares at him, jaw dropping. "Wuh, wait.,What the heck? is that literally a hockey puck? In your stomach?! Whyyyy!?"

Okaaaay, that's totally new..And kinda..Disturbing...

Wolverine has posed:
"Looks like one, don't it? But... nah... it's full of blood or somethin'."

The puck lands in a nearby trashcan with a heavy thud. It's really more squarish, with rounded edges, but Logan's Canadian and somewhat notorious for managing to sneak hockey references in as often as possible.

Rejoining the spritely figure on the uncomfortable doctor's lobby furniture, Logan takes back his clipboard. The documents are mostly free from profanity, but that's probably because the majority of it was simply checking boxes.

Apparently he's been having trouble with a lot of things since getting 'cured.' The inevitable result of a hundred plus years of damage, no doubt.

"I don't know how it works, really. Scrubs the Adamantium crud out of my blood. Radiation or... bits of metal... whatever it is, it kills a human pretty quick if'n they don't have themselves a healin' factor. So... don't go off gettin' yer bones laced with an unbreakable metal just because yer fav'rit superhero did."

"And... also, don't do drugs."

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn wrinkles her nose in obvious distaste as he tosses the puck thingie in the garbage. "Oh. Ew! Really? That's....Kinda not fun, but, I guess I can see the need for that.." she sighs, "Sooo, uh..Does it hurt..?

Well...Hes not dead Soo....That's a good sign, right? She laughs nervously and shivers. "That's gotta be hard but...I'm sure they'll patch you right up!"

Well, the waiting room is clearing up quickly and the receptionist is watching and waiting patiently for Logan to finish his questionnaire, even as new patients flock in. "Think you're up next!"

Wolverine has posed:
Sure enough, Logan's name is called soon. Just as he finished filling out the form, too, what impeccable timing.

"Lookit that. Must be my lucky day or somethin'. After this I think I'll swing by the DMV and finally get a license."

Getting up from his seat, Logan looks much older than usual, stooped over a bit from the aches and pains of age. But he holds his back as straight as he can, and walks with some of the familiar swagger back past the receptionist and follows the nurse down the hallway to get his shot of the cure antidote.

Here's hoping he'll be back to his grumpy, feral, usual self within a few days.