Post by Duke Bippwatt on Dec 2, 2013 22:43:09 GMT -5
Ivanava Borishna - Head Trama Surgeon, Red Blood Memorial Hospital. Personal Office.
Ivy sat in front of the computer and clacked away on her reports, made notations on the hard copies in front of her, signed documents and requests.
In short, she was doing paperwork.
Not the expected fare of a gunslinging, black-belt aikido, genius surgeon...who was also a pregnant revenge killer.
Okay, so that last bit wasn't on her resume, but hey...when an assassin puts a fifty caliber bullet in your lover's shoulder and another in their throat, you're gonna react...poorly.
Ivy had returned the favor, calling in a favor to a wizard she knew. The man had taken a shortcut into the police evidence locker through the nevernever and had lifted the Barret M107, returned it to her and then returned it half an hour later, slightly more used than before.
The assassin, en route to her jail cell for eternity, had mysteriously been the victim of a sniper attack. And no one could figure out how. The car had been on the freeway, in between two tall walls, which were patrolled by guards 24/7.
Ivy, however, had been higher than that. She'd been a few thousand meters above the car, suspended by her friendly wizard's spell.
She'd fired once and once only. The shot had taken the assassin in the top of the skull. Death was painful, apparently, because really all the bullet did was paralyze her from the torso down....and then it took her five hours to finally die. In the end, blood loss was too much for her system to cope.
When Ivy had returned, she had thrown up. It had been the first time she'd willfully, intentionally, maliciously, and coldly harmed a human being. She had broken her oath that she held dear for revenge.
First, Do No Harm.
Ivy's jaw clenched and she felt a twinge from her belly. Suddenly, her pencils and pens started floating up out of the jar on her desk.
Oh, yeah. And her baby's father, now dead, had been a psion of considerable power. So, given the strange sh*t happening around her - like floating writing implements - it seemed likely that her kid was going to inherit that power.
She slammed the file closed and the pens and pencils fell back down into the cup, as though they'd never been disturbed. The doctor then set herself to wrapping up.
Ivy had just locked her computer and was about to get up to leave, when a knock came at the door.
"Open.", she called, pinching the bridge of her nose. The door swung in to admit one of her premier surgeons, Claire Randall.
"Yes, Claire?" The woman was several years older than Ivy was, mostly due to a late start in her medical training. However, she wore those years well and seemed genuinely happy with her life.
"Ivy, you need to go home...you've been here for seventy-two hours straight...at least! You're running on nothing more than coffee and energy shots."
"I know, Claire. I was just about to gather my things and call it quits...for maybe a week. Need to sleep like the dead."
"Good. I would hate to have to call security and have them escort you to your car."
"Oh, dear. That serious?"
As if in answer, a knock came at the door and Claire opened it to reveal Frank Halbert, the security chief for the Trama Wing.
"It's that serious.", Claire said. "Go home."
"Yes, ma'am!", Ivy said in jest. "I know when to accept defeat." She turned to Frank. "And you. We'll discuss this betrayal when I get back...after I've slept for a month straight."
She quickly exited the building, her purse on her shoulder and keys in her hand.
She walked through the parking garage, seeking her car, the only sound the clack-thump of her military-issue boots.
Sent from my SCH-I535 using proboards
Ivy sat in front of the computer and clacked away on her reports, made notations on the hard copies in front of her, signed documents and requests.
In short, she was doing paperwork.
Not the expected fare of a gunslinging, black-belt aikido, genius surgeon...who was also a pregnant revenge killer.
Okay, so that last bit wasn't on her resume, but hey...when an assassin puts a fifty caliber bullet in your lover's shoulder and another in their throat, you're gonna react...poorly.
Ivy had returned the favor, calling in a favor to a wizard she knew. The man had taken a shortcut into the police evidence locker through the nevernever and had lifted the Barret M107, returned it to her and then returned it half an hour later, slightly more used than before.
The assassin, en route to her jail cell for eternity, had mysteriously been the victim of a sniper attack. And no one could figure out how. The car had been on the freeway, in between two tall walls, which were patrolled by guards 24/7.
Ivy, however, had been higher than that. She'd been a few thousand meters above the car, suspended by her friendly wizard's spell.
She'd fired once and once only. The shot had taken the assassin in the top of the skull. Death was painful, apparently, because really all the bullet did was paralyze her from the torso down....and then it took her five hours to finally die. In the end, blood loss was too much for her system to cope.
When Ivy had returned, she had thrown up. It had been the first time she'd willfully, intentionally, maliciously, and coldly harmed a human being. She had broken her oath that she held dear for revenge.
First, Do No Harm.
Ivy's jaw clenched and she felt a twinge from her belly. Suddenly, her pencils and pens started floating up out of the jar on her desk.
Oh, yeah. And her baby's father, now dead, had been a psion of considerable power. So, given the strange sh*t happening around her - like floating writing implements - it seemed likely that her kid was going to inherit that power.
She slammed the file closed and the pens and pencils fell back down into the cup, as though they'd never been disturbed. The doctor then set herself to wrapping up.
Ivy had just locked her computer and was about to get up to leave, when a knock came at the door.
"Open.", she called, pinching the bridge of her nose. The door swung in to admit one of her premier surgeons, Claire Randall.
"Yes, Claire?" The woman was several years older than Ivy was, mostly due to a late start in her medical training. However, she wore those years well and seemed genuinely happy with her life.
"Ivy, you need to go home...you've been here for seventy-two hours straight...at least! You're running on nothing more than coffee and energy shots."
"I know, Claire. I was just about to gather my things and call it quits...for maybe a week. Need to sleep like the dead."
"Good. I would hate to have to call security and have them escort you to your car."
"Oh, dear. That serious?"
As if in answer, a knock came at the door and Claire opened it to reveal Frank Halbert, the security chief for the Trama Wing.
"It's that serious.", Claire said. "Go home."
"Yes, ma'am!", Ivy said in jest. "I know when to accept defeat." She turned to Frank. "And you. We'll discuss this betrayal when I get back...after I've slept for a month straight."
She quickly exited the building, her purse on her shoulder and keys in her hand.
She walked through the parking garage, seeking her car, the only sound the clack-thump of her military-issue boots.
Sent from my SCH-I535 using proboards
