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Post by Callypso on Mar 5, 2010 18:16:40 GMT -5
It took a few seconds for the realization to sink in that the mouse really had taken off that abruptly. Iso glanced wearily around her before following Marsallo. The thugs she had spotted earlier seemed to have slunk off down other back alleys, so she deemed it safe to continue on their journey without too much trouble. She wrinkled her nose and took off at a trot to make up the distance the vermin had already gained. Though Marsallo had seemed, for the first time during their encounter, rather sure of himself, Iso couldn’t help but question the reliability of his snout.
The ferret was momentarily tempted to turn the other way and slip down a side road to make her way to the inner bazaar on her own, but another protest of her stomach highlighted the reality of the situation. Even if she had made it to the inner city it wouldn't change the fact that still wouldn't know exactly where to go to eat. Perhaps the scattered Card would lead them somewhere interesting, and she did have to admit a mild curiosity for the other research the Marshland man had done. It would be nice to have made the acquaintance of another scientific mind, though the man seemed so scattered and nervous she wasn't sure how he could keep track of the numbers he had rattled off earlier.
One quick glance behind her situated the location of the apothecary in her mind. If she met too many more twitchy Cards she may have to make a trip to that shop sooner than she had anticipated. As it was, the pills she had taken earlier had mellowed her mood a bit and allowed the current events to seem a bit more entertaining than they might have been otherwise.
Iso finally caught up to Marsallo and looked down at the scurrying, seemingly excitable fellow and slightly raised an eyebrow.
Are you certain this is the correct direction?
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Post by Jaryn Frostwing on Mar 10, 2010 1:58:45 GMT -5
Binks scurried ahead without thinking to look back for quite some time. It wasn't until the ferret overtook him did it occur to him that perhaps a more calm approach to social settings would benefit him in the future. He stopped abruptly to speak to her. Too abruptly. He rolled 3.7 times before coming to a stop. Actually, he only managed two complete rolls, but he would have made another 1.7 if he had not come to an abrupt and painful rest against the base of one of the trees that lined the city streets. Dazed, Marsallo stood and shook the fuzziness from his head.
"I, uh, I am 85% certain..." he said. Then looked up at the shop he'd crashed in front of. He squeaked once at the sign. He'd arrived!
"Ah, here we are!" he said, "after you miss!" He tried to stand on his hindlegs and bow before her, gesturing toward the door. In his mind it was perfect. In his mind. Also in his mind was the number of cheesewheels and plywood boards it would take him to create a functional downhill racer, the cost of such wheels, and the total sum of the fines he would incur if he attempted to navigate such a vehicle to work as well as the number and total sum of fines he would incur if he crashed said vehicle. Cake was also present. Though there were no numbers immediately attached to this idea, only that he would very much like some. Again, it was perfect in his mind. In reality there was no cake. In reality he couldn't afford the cheesewheel car's fines. In reality he couldn't afford the car even. In reality he had stumbled forward and crashed face first into the ground beneath Iso's nose in what was perhaps the most unflattering attempt at humanoid emulation he'd made all week.
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Post by Callypso on Mar 12, 2010 22:38:50 GMT -5
Her question had evidently startled the neurotic Jossigian. He stopped abruptly, causing the Corvie to nearly trip over herself and sent the vermin tumbling down the street to crash into a nearby tree. Iso corrected her footing and visibly winced at Marsallo’s collision. His quick recovery time thoroughly surprised her- he didn’t seem to take much stock into the fact that he had just incurred an injury that would daze and confuse even the heartiest of Cards.
Iso was now convinced that the mouse must have some sort of brain damage.
Her eyebrows furrowed as he invited her to enter the establishment; she glanced down at his eyes to see if she could ascertain any signs of concussion but he moved too much to be able to tell for certain. Various patrons of the deli that had already been seated peered curiously at the pair as they made their way to the counter. More than one customer had witnessed the most current event. The 8 of Spades wasn’t exactly embarrasses per se, but it didn’t do much for her credibility as a sane citizen to be seen with someone so jumpy and accident-prone. She rolled her eyes briefly when Marsallo wasn’t looking and glanced at the menu before venturing a suggestion.
That was quite the impact you made- I could examine you for head trauma?
Iso was assured such an examination would be pointless, but perhaps she could do follow-up studies on how his brain recuperated from constant jarring. It was interesting how Marsallo was still able to complete such rapid calculations after being pummeled thusly. He might prove to have fascinating brain matter…
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Post by Jaryn Frostwing on Mar 18, 2010 1:08:34 GMT -5
Quite embarrassed, Marsallo was quick to get all four paws planted firmly on the ground and rose to look up at Dr. Iso.
"Head.. trauma...?" he asked, his mind swimming with the possibilities that perhaps some more severe injury from his childhood could be the reason for his constant lateness and clumsiness. He attempted to calculate this probability, but found himself lacking the necessary information to do so. "Insufficient data..." he mumbled quietly to himself. He assumed, however, that the probability of such an injury being the cause of his socially awkward nature was in all likelihood, much lower than his problems being simply attributed to his awkward personality, and tendency toward attempting to speak as quickly as he could think.
"Well, if uh, if you think it would help, then I don't see why not...?" he offered, all the while quietly wondering how much such an examination would cost him.
((Sorry for the long draught! I had midterms and then was out of town for a few days))
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Post by Callypso on Mar 21, 2010 22:49:28 GMT -5
Iso blinked slowly again as the vermin fumbled to regain proper balance with all four paws. Perhaps it hadn’t been the wisest decision to offer an examination. Though her lab wasn’t complete by any means, she had no desire to test her equipment’s durability or strength by letting this Card tumble around her lab. Currently, there was no recollection in her mind of ever having a patient with as deficient an equilibrium as this fellow had.
Her impression of his possible injury reaffirmed itself as the Card began mumbling to himself. If Marsallo had a thick Hisstor skull the constant hammering wouldn’t amount to much, but this Josiggy seemed much too prone to accidents than seemed natural. Perhaps it was related to the inner ear? Not enough fluid? Punctured ear drum? The gleam crept back into her eyes as she catalogued the potential maladies that could be affecting the mouse.
His tentative agreement shook her from her thoughts and she looked back to respond. A thorough examination would be proper. With regular follow-ups.
It was invigorating to have a future project waiting for her. When she finally finished the renovations to her late-brother’s laboratory, there would be no time wasted in embarking on new research.
They had just made it to the front counter to place their order. The ferret briefly glanced toward the menu.
Reuben sandwich.
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Post by Jaryn Frostwing on Aug 5, 2010 13:05:57 GMT -5
Eh, heh, I'll also take a reuben sandwich please, Marsallo giggled nervously. After a moment he looked back at Iso. And this.... examination... would it hurt? he asked, twitching his tail sharply. Pain was something he was used to but not, by any means, something he sought out.
And of course I am not to be treated as some sort of frequent test subject. No ma'am. I've done that song and dance before. No-ho sirree not doing that again. This declaration came decidedly out of thin air. It was not a job that Marsallo looked back upon with fond memories, those times that he did in fact have the memories. He tried briefly to calculate what percentage of time this would be, but found himself befuddled. One could not calculate the percentage of time one had a fleeting memory because those times when it was gone one did not know that it was gone... As the young mouse perused this thought something very new happened: Marsallo was quiet.
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Post by Callypso on Aug 5, 2010 18:20:06 GMT -5
Iso eyed the vermin from her peripheral vision to mask her surprise at the revelation. Oh. Oh. That explained it. Perfectly, in fact. Her excitement sunk at his statement, which clearly indicated that some other Card had already… The thought trailed off as the doctor struggled with unpleasant reality. Marsallo Binx was the direct result of extensive experimentation and the most likely culprit was a fellow Corvie. She rolled the idea around in her mind as one would masticate a bad cut of meat; slowly and with precision as if to quell the incoming tide of revulsion and disappointment. Her compatriots were more often than not simultaneously the cause AND effect of any scientific breakthroughs. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.
I should think not, she replied, her voice even despite the recent decimation of her hopes for a new project. Although you may experience mild discomfort, as do some patients who generally dislike medical environments. She paused awkwardly as an internal debate ensued. Was it worth the effort promising an examination now that there was no benefit to be had in terms of her personal research? The doctor couldn’t turn away a patient, regardless of how they had acquired their various infirmities, but it was an obvious waste of time considering the Jossigy’s history.
Perhaps she could question him on his experiences? Mayhap could contact the other... physician… (an inappropriate term for an individual who wrecked havoc on others’ lives, in her opinion) and ask for copies of their notes on Marsallo’s physical and mental condition prior to the experiments? Iso could easily request the documents under the guise of a private practitioner seeking information on a new patient. It might be worth the inquiry since she didn’t know what the study was for, so mayhap the situation was salvageable. She cleared her throat awkwardly.
Marsallo? Would you mind… relating… your experiences? How did you come to be in that… situation?
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Post by Jaryn Frostwing on Aug 10, 2010 14:01:42 GMT -5
Why yes of course, I... no... no I cannot. The young mouse looked baffled. His face twisted up strangely in the manner of one that had just seen something impossible and unpleasant or realized that the entire beef dinner they'd just had was prepared from the neighboring family's pet. (Which, incidentally, was exactly what had happened that caused Marsallo to last make such a face.) He mumbled quietly to himself for a moment and rubbed his forehead with both paws.
I'm sorry... he said at length. I honestly can't remember the experience. I can't even remember when it was precisely. After I left home I'd imagine. It's all sort of.... blurry... About this time his sandwich arrived and the young mouse was very quick to begin eating, hoping that such a mundane, simple task would help to hide his eccentricities.
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Post by Callypso on Aug 10, 2010 18:58:41 GMT -5
Iso’s brows furrowed significantly as she regarded the Josiggy. There was something very, very wrong with the poor vermin, and this time it had nothing to do with Iso’s predisposition to categorize most Cards as “lacking in mental capacity”. He had very abruptly switched from graciously preparing to divulge to perplexed insecurity. She eyed her sandwich thoughtfully before taking a bite, then watched from the corner of her eyes as Marsallo nervously wolfed down his own lunch.
The ferret felt her body tense as though steeling itself against some unseen enemy. As much as Iso would’ve liked to slap a mental label on the mouse and send him on his way to therapy or whatever nonsense psychologists were up to these days, she couldn’t. There was undeniable evidence that someone had tampered with this fellow’s mind. Whoever this person was, they had not only the knowledge to cover their tracks, but also knew how to do so within their victim’s own head. Someone had erased Marsallo’s memory. Or at least part of it.
And it infuriated her to know that someone, probably someone who called themselves a doctor, someone who took a Hippocratic Oath to do no harm, had purposefully damaged this person in the name of science. It was one thing to test on Aces or volunteers who knew they had nothing left to lose, but to lure an innocent into harm’s way? That was unacceptable.
She found herself slipping out from underneath her mask of indifference into genuine concern, the kind that only a patient seemed to uncover. To be sure, not all patients were desirable, friendly or even grateful for her assistance, however, Iso could not ignore her deep-seated need to heal, to make well a sick Card. The Corvie’s eyes softened as she peered down at her companion.
Marsallo? Are you all right? Her voice dropped to a gentle murmur. Do you remember who did this to you?
She would have their license, if she could help it.
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Post by Jaryn Frostwing on Aug 16, 2010 11:27:38 GMT -5
He shook his head slowly. Oh yes, I am quite fine and I am very sorry, but I truly don't remember. It feels as though it was very very long ago.... and then, all at once, his demeanor lifted.
My my, this is the best sandwich I've had all week. do you like yours? he asked jovially, then shoved an exceptionally large bite into his mouth. One large enough that the average person might choke, though he seemed to handle it quite easily. Despite his companion's concerns, to him this was just another ordinary day, and the conversation had only mildly drifted beyond the typical fare. He did find himself wondering why she was so concerned, he -felt- fine after all.
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