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Blood Hounds - Ch. 3 : First Day on the Job


Jeroscope

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"We were just finishing up if you want to go next." Doc says to Lennox.

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[[ANNOUNCEMENT: Dont worry guys, we're gonna finish this chapter up soon. Once everyone's been examined, we'll skip to morning and the first assignment will begin]]

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"Well, then the quicker the better..." He made sure his papers didn't dwell too much in his backstory and only focused on strict medical details.

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"Alright then." Doc looks through his medical history. "Lennox Satsura. A Jaguar at 26 years of age. A couple of hospital stays, a pathological liar  by several psychologists' accounts and some fur damage from excessive use of dyes. Nothing major so far."

 

Doc looks down the list "And an extensive history of nasty diseases. Gonorrhea? Yes. Syphilis? Yes. Herpes? Enough for all the ship and all the alphabet worth of Hepatitis. Amazing since that is possibly more Hepatitis than is known to modern medicine."

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"Appendix, some bones and an endocrinologist for excessive sweating, nothing unusual..."

"Those reports date from a long time. 8 to 10 years old..."

"Yes, Lots of dyes were experimental at first. It shouldn't be an issue now since I perfected my formula..."

He was caught off at that last statement. "Now you don't go using my jokes on me! Get original material!"

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"The hospital stays weren't too out of the ordinary. But the reports are near-lifelong. Well, let's hope that doesn't extend to this examination. As for the dyes, making your own could prove even more hazardous than using commercial brands. Fair enough if you want to make your own but do make sure to practice moderation. Otherwise, you may very well go bald later on in life."

 

Doc gets his tools ready. "Anything else I should know? Or anything you have noticed lately?"

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"The Doc doesnt lie, cupcake," said Hackett as he was reading the mission parameters on his tablet, never looking up as he spoke. "It's a little thing called justified irony."

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"Oh I'm going to hack this Hackett's head off..."

 

"Well..." he showed his long hair "I'm handling myself pretty well, but anything else I'll let you know. The pee in a cup ritual next?"

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Hackett started having suspicions when he noticed increased tension after he said something. "Kid, you need to learn when to take a minute and figure what you did wrong."

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(Zephir just walked to the door but since the post was edited I have nothing to interact with the characters about.)

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"We still have to do the check-up. So before you go peeing in any cups, I need to see if everything else works. Now just do what I tell you and you can be out of here sooner." Doc says evenly. Doc does his checkup while dealing with any more whining Lennox might've had. "Now for your favorite part. Pee in the cup and return the sample." Doc turns but then turns back "And don't fill it with someone else's urine. I'll know."

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"All quacks are all the same... I'll be over soon. Be thankful I still got class" Lennox got up and waived to Zephir on his way to the toilets. "You're up!"

 

"There shouldn't be an issue, I haven't taken any hardcore stuff in months..."

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Zephir raised an eyebrow. And just stood there for a moment. He got his shoulder off the wall and walked briskly inside the clinic. "Alright then. Hello Doctor." He tried to stay semi-conscious. Alcohol and drugs aren't the best for a serious disposition. 

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"Hello, Professor" Doc said. "Zephyr" Doc clears his throat. "Forgive me. Zephir Sokolvskii, at 36 years of age. There's mention of some burns and cuts somewhat early in your life followed by a fairly healthy life. Up until your work with the CDF. Interesting. Well, fairly standard cuts, bumps and shake-up for a pilot." Doc picks up his tools and is about to ask his normal What Should I Know question only to give Zephir a quizzical look. "Are you alright? You look tired."

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Zephir was waking up but still wasn't fully there yet. At first he responded "Yes." but then realized that answer made no sense and tried again. "Yeah yeah I'm alright ... just need some caffeine or ... something." He rubbed his forehead and made a sudden slap that, for the moment, woke the devil out of him. "So Doctor what would you like me to do?"

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"I do need to know if there is anything you wish to tell me. Other than that we can begin the test."

 

Something about this didn't sit right. Doc decided to make a mental note of this for now.

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"I have nothing to admit." Zephir said. He kept his cool, there was nothing to admit ... well ... "If you find something, more power to you. But I can't say there's anything more than you already know." As he dons a smug.

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"Very well then. Let's begin." Doc does his examinations and takes a few notes on Zephir's odd behavior. After everything is said and done, Doc produces another cup. "I'm sure you know the rest. Send the next person in. And tell Lennox to return with his sample. He's taking much too long."

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Speak of the devil; Lennox came in and whsitled to the doctor as he left his sample in a table nearby. He couldn't help but to notice Zephir.

 

"Ambien? Vicodin? Prozac? I just KNOW he's into something. He'll so fail the piss test..."

 

He went to the main hall to grab a huge pitcher of water and browsed what was on TV.

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"Damn I'm going to fail this piss test ..." Zephir thought to himself. Still, they're all mercenaries. Like any of them would follow the law here. "Alright." He turned for the toilet and saw Lennox. He smiled a large grin and tilted the urine cup in hand. "I guess bottoms-down." He said as he passed and shut the door behind him. 

 

 

 

 

It's tinkle time. 

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Doc takes Lennox's sample, caps it and labels it before putting it away. Seeing as Zephir didn;t let anyone in he just picked at random.  "Mr.SImson, if you would?"

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Ian, still wide eyed and still in shock from the unwanted sight, returns his book to the confines of his jacket ad pads over to the examination chair. He sits without a word his mouth still slightly ajar.

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"You do realize I've gone through more than a few examination since that display?" Doc says.

 

Either way, he reads the medical history. "Ian Simson, a Gorilla at 38 years of age. You've lived a mostly healthy childhood, but have lived with an allergy to bananas. The effects of the bananas are rather.... extreme. But more important, there is mention of bionic replacements for your trachea, liver and right lung. A weapon backfire incident heavily damaged your entire right side. You are lucky to be alive."

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"There aren't enough examinations in all creation..." Ian mumbles as he shakes his head of cobwebs.

 

"Hmm? Oh yes, I have had quite a few escapades involving that biological quirk." Ian sighs in fondness over a distant memory, letting his mind touch memories he held dear. He snaps back to reality after a moment. "And dont think yourself clever, i have heard every single joke about the condition. I personally favor the one about the Banana and the bastard."

 

Ian chuckles as his accident is brought up. "Ah yes, i was manning a street corner when i was blindsided by a zealot. Nasty thing it was..." Again he slips into memory, only this time he doesn't come out, staring ahead with his expression hardening.

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