The Most Agressive Anti-Smoking Campaign Ever

Brief Title:
AntiSmoking

Characters:
Morbius, Human Torch

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
2009/08/17 22:00

Location:
Bellvue Hospital Parking Lot

Summary:
Dr. Michaels has a conversation with Dr. Marinos. And then he's having to save Dr. Marinos. (time jump converted)

Social or Plot:
Social

TS:
No

Log:
----==[ Bellvue Hospital - Midtown ]==---------------------------------------



This complex is the largest of the Manhattan Area. It offers health care to cover many needs. The broad field of this facility offers helipads, ambulance bays, as well as parking for many thousand within immense parking garages. Various buildings from this area are open to service the differing needs of the patient. Doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff can be seen throughout the area.



==============================================================================

Contents:

Dr. Michaels

Obvious Exits:

[HL] - Hematology Lab - Bellvue Hospi [O] - Midtown - New York


It is a dark and reasonably pleasant night. Man, that sounds dorky. No wonder mystery writers prefer the stormy night. Kind of adds to the fear factor. But, well if this scene was set like that it would be lies! ALL LIES! And what kind of scene set would this be if it eliminates all of the trust from the reader to begin with?

Now where was I? Oh right...

*Ahem...*

It is a dark and reasonably pleasant night. The temperature is pleasantly warm, but not to the point where humidity can rear its ugly head and try to strangle the air out of someone's lungs. The stars in the sky are, well, not visible due to the light pollution of the street lamps nearby, and with the exception of a cloaked figure sneaking away from the parking lot, there is not a soul in sight for anyone else who may be keeping a watchful eye on the hospital staff parking lot.

Yes. Peaceful. Or is it?

.

.

.

Ok there's no screams going on, yes it's pretty peaceful.

Dr. 'Morgan Michaels' steps out into the parking lot. It's on the way to the street and then, the subway. It wasn't too bad of a night. The city seems calm. A few injuries in the home, a sanitation worker with an infected cut, then a few hours of quiet labwork, running serum tests, white cell counts...it was all refreshingly normal. He even ate with a few colleagues in the cafeteria, though he's unused to small talk, nothing strange came up.

He actually pauses for a moment, looking up to the clear night sky. A sky he won't be taking to tonight. His 'condition' is fairly stable tonight, and Dr. Weisenthal thought their latest alterations to his treatment might be helping...the hyperbaric chamber and dialysis.

Still, he notes to himself he's going to have to be more careful. Getting 'drafted' into the mission against Ultron, in space unnerved him a bit. He's just thankful he was tracked and approached as the Living Vampire.

A few beats behind him, there is the jingle of keys as another one of his coworkers is making his own leave from work. The greying older Doctor looks towards the younger man, pausing as he allows time for the night light to help his recognition. One of the city's conveniently supplied gusts of wind likely makes recognition a bit easier for Michaels as he gets treated to the scent of Dr. Marinos prior to the man supporting the smell with the sound of his voice, "Ah. How was your shift, Morgan?"

"Surprisingly light today." the younger man replies, "No GSWs, no vigilante actions, no auto wrecks...I actually got to almost catch up on all those serum tests that had been sitting in the lab. I even had time to -eat-." He sounds pleased by that, of course Dr, Marinos couldn't understand exactly why.

The elder man chuckles, "Oh yes. A missed meal can make one VERY grumpy. It's very good that things were not so hectic." The small talk is very formulaic, all that's missing is a-

"Weather's very nice today."

Okay, we have the complete package.

Most people would be utterly disinterested in such. But Michael Morbius is -not- most people. It's been -so damn long- since he even made small talk with anyone, let alone a medical colleague. A part of him is still a bit buoyed by what had happened in space. Hercules told him he did his heritage proud, he helped -save- millions of lives. Maybe...maybe that's helped make up for...things...just a -little- bit.

"Surprisingly so. I was thinking of walking down a few stops, just to enjoy it."

Marinos pauses, looking in the direction of the nearest bus stop. "Well, if you were planning to do such a thing, tonight's the night." His keys lift up in display of his own transportation plans, "But, I think I'm going to head home to the missus and have a nice, quiet evening with her."

Ouch. Well, -that- was a harsh reminder that not all has gone well in Morbius's life lately. But he crushes thoughts of his late fiancee down savagely. It's not something to face right now. "Have you ever thought about when you might retire?" he asks, "Not an ageist question, mind you, but more one of time to do what you want."

There's a small, pleasant smile coming upon Dr. Marinos's features as he hears the question, giving a nod. "It has come to mind but it's more, the conditions where I'll retire." The smile relaxes, "If I feel like I'm not doing the field good by remaining active, that's when I'll do it."

Doing good...Morbius's thoughts turn to what he did recently again, "Do you ever wonder if the good you do makes up for anything bad you may have done? Any...mistakes you've made over the years?" he asks.

Marinos is quiet, considering the question. The pause is long enough to possibly suggest one answer before he gives a small nod. "I did. But, there's a difference between learning from mistakes and being so focused on them that it holds you back from doing the good you can do now." His stance shifts, glance moving towards his car, "Well, I should head on now. Enjoy your walk, Dr. Michaels."

"And you, Dr. Marinos...and have a good night with your wife." Michael adds, a bit wistfully. His thoughts turn, unbidden, to his mistakes. One in particular, that led to so many others. But he also thinks of the view of the Earth below, bright blue and white, and how delicate it seemed from up there.

With the reminder of his wife, Marinos's expression perks up as he nods, scooting off towards his car before his colleage can have a chance to think of another question to pose to him.

Morbius lets the man go, after all, he has someone to go to, and begins to think...he has -time- tonight, what in the world does one -do- with free time?

SYS: Human Torch rolls 1d10: 6

Perhaps one day, Morbius will get to find out.

As Marinos turns his car key, there is a click of the lock granting him access. Happy and pleased with his prospect for the evening, he takes his time buckling up, turning on the ignition and then adjusting his mirrors for the night driving. That done with, he reaches into the middle storage box and pulls out a box of ciggarettes. BAD doctor. BAD. Don't you know that smoking will kill you?

Grabbing a cancer stick and placing it between his lips, he pats his pockets before muttering a curse. Shaking his head he reaches over and pushes in the button for the cigarette lighter in order to heat up the coil.

And heat up it does, along with the rest of the car as the engine block blows with such force, parts of it goes flying into the passenger portion of the car as well as the sides of other cars. The visual is quite bright with the delayed sound coming just a brief moment later. Boom.

Hope he's got AAA.

Morbius turns instantly at the sound of the explosion and immediately begins running towards the flaming wreck. He knows that -has- to have been heard inside, but he's first-responder. His mind working clinically to stave off the horror of what he's just seen.

As Morbius comes closer, the extent of the damage becomes clear. Other cars nearby, although not decimated, have additional bits of other car embedded into their sides. Within the center of the blast zone, Marinos sits still in the driver's seat of the car, although, more reclining now. His ciggarette has since been knocked out of his mouth and instead smokes itself in the passenger seat. He is, miraculously, in one piece. But with a couple more, growing redder by the moment, holes in his body. To add to the gruesome nature, the garrish light cast by the glow of fire coming from the engine is far from comforting.

Not as bad as he'd feared, he's intact, and bleeding...flowing blood means a heartbeat. Morbius's mind seizes on these details. First thing...he races to the side of the car, heedless of the fire, and tries to get the door open.

Dr. Marinos, the elder doctor is a firm believer of locking the door. Never know when you're about to go into a bad neightborhood after all. However, fortunately, in his need for a nicotine fix, he skipped the important task of hitting the lock button, or he was waiting for a socially awkward time to hit the button when people were standing next to the car while he was at the light. Either way, the door does open, the shrapnel not doing anything to stop the function of the door either. This is quite good indeed as the flames nearby are not waiting and getting larger fast.

Murmuring to himself "Moving the patient...that or the flames." Morbius notes thankfully that the seatbelt isn't damaged either...he labours to get the man out onto the pavement, and on his back. Deprived of his inhuman strength at the moment, it's more work than he's used to, but adrenaline is a wonderful thing sometimes...he almost doesn't even notice the scent...almost.

By the time Morbius gets Dr. Marinos to the pavement, the fire starts to go beyond merely the engine block, the red and yellow flow starts to crawl towards the front seat area, claiming where his coworker once sat. But it does not linger there long. As the night sky gets abnormally brighter, the flames upon the car actually leap off in a pillar, extending skyward as a greater force commands it away. The humanoid figure of flame hovers in the sky, one hand extended towards the growing pillar while the other hand gestures up towards the sky as he continues the upward path of the flame. Oh what a FANTASTIC addition to the evening.

The fire is moving? Barely any time to look, Morbius has retrieved his first-aid kit from the shoulder bag he carries nights, but that might be a threat to...and he feels a familiar shudder of alarm race through him before he realizes that like -this-, he is -not- a target. Fine, let the glory-hound do his part, a man's life is on the line.

The fire is gradually stripped away, leaving the charred smouldering car alone for whoever will be cleaning this mess up later. There is the fluttering of a solitary, charred, somewhat bloodied post card, falling down due to the loss of the heat that had assisted in it's initial lift from where it was.

As Dr. Michaels works on Dr. Marinos, there is the sound of others approaching from the hospital. Initially drawn by the sound of the explosion and emboldened by the removal of the fire, by the passing by hero, another doctor shouts to another to fetch a gurny as he runs over to provide what assistance he can.

Marinos's cindition is relayed quickly, clinically, by a man who, at this moment, is purely a doctor. Morbius is amazed at the 'good fortune' that whoever set the explosive didn't realize the engine block would absorb and redirect so much of the force of the blast. "I can't tell if that left lung's perforated or not, shrapnel might be acting as a plug. Not an accident either, deliberate. Police should be on their way."

The other, concious doctor nods as he helps himself to the kit to tend to another of Marinos's wounds, "One of the nurses is making the call."

Fire taken care of, the Human Torch comes down towards the ground, flaming off as his feet reach the ground. Instead of his Fantastic Four uniform, Johnny is dressed in his more specialized FDNY shirt and pants. Tendrils of steam still waft from him as he walks over, warming up the general area around him as he looks to the patient being tended to. "How is he?" Someone wasn't listening earlier it seems.

Another, tinged postcard flutters down, drawing Johnny's attention from the Doctors prematurely.

*Fadey Mc Fade fade.

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