Was he playing dumb? In denial? Unsure what she meant? Perhaps Ravaora would have to speak as slowly to him as she did a few patience that had earlier appointments. How wide spread was this epidemic and which one were they spreading?? So fascinating yet tragic. The bodies would begin piling up if she didn't get to work. "The stress, Love. Get rid of aaaalll that anxiety. Feel your muscles loosening." And on that note, why was he not following?

Hmm, clearly it was a cerebral malfunction. He truly wasn't processing a thing she said, was he. Parasites in the brain, most likely or the stress eating away at the neurons--

HANG ON!! "No no no." Ravaora clutched tightly to the handles of the elderly man's wheelchair. "This one is gravely ill, knocking on death's door and will be seeing no one but ME. How long has he been unable to walk?" She turned to old man and spoke exaggeratedly slow once more. "It. Is. Alright. SIR." In case he was hard of hearing too. "We'll get you walking again in NO TIME." No walking meant a muscular problem obviously brought on from a lack of exercise and poor diet. They'd get this one up and about in no time. Ravaora began wheeling him toward the room, no time for protests. "And I suggest you come too unless you want to drop dead." Unless he diiiiiiiiid. DID HE???? Clearly OOPS struck again.



Was that an involuntary tick? Was it? Ravaora noticed the wincing and knew immediately that this man's nervous system was failing. Pretty soon he'd be in a wheelchair too or carted off to St. Mungo's if they caught it quickly enough. This was even more serious than she thought--no, than she DARED to imagine.

"Repetitive speech with the use of 'whoa' twice." Had he already forgotten he'd uttered it? An advanced stage of the disease. Merlin's beard help them all if he got into the wider public. His sudden draw back had her eyeing him even more seriously. "Afraid of contact as well...." She muttered, drawing on little ideas here and there as to what would definitively be the cause of his melt down.

"And rambling." She noted as they got into the room. Offering explanations where there need not be any. The dark circles under his eyes as well......"How well are you sleeping?" And while she asked she reached for the closet thing on her table and hurled it at him. Just like that. Throwing missiles.



Minister's Office, Level 1, central point of the chaos she was willing to bet. That was where decrees came from, such a STRESSFUL job it was and it would break most people, in fact, it had broken this man right here. His internal self was long shattered but he did not know. What a shame in life this was.

"Yes, I'll be seeing you right now. Please step into the room. Have no fear, we've seen worse cases than your own. In no time we should have you fixed, just have to pinpoint what's wrong first."

Because something was wrong, did he know? DID HE KNOW HE WAS DYING???



Such. Short. Sentences.

Ravaora walked right up to this one, giving her a once over. Short sentences could only mean 10 things and one by one she would figure out what! Could be anything from too much sugar to a brain degenerating disease that was slowly ruining speech function. Tut tut, the woman might find it a little harder to fulfil her tasks if she could hardly give directions. "Emily Browne, yes? Department Head? Those have priority, step right this way Ma'am." Toward the room where your fate would be sealed.

She had caught her looking around earlier as well. Possibly feeling trapped, like the walls were closing in--or a fear of people, yes! It made sense! The short sentences too in an effort to be done with it. This woman had been scarred. It was heart breakingly tragic at the very least and the healer took the woman's hands in hers. "We will help you get through this. I promise you we're the best at what we do. You will be a new woman." Now chop chop the reformation needed to begin and it couldn't without a diagnosis!



Why was she looking at her like that? With those craaaazy eyes. It was setting in, wasn't it? Perhaps this one would need restraints while they got the evaluations done...just in case. "We will be here all day." Ravaora commented idly as she began patting at the woman's cheeks. "And will continue to be here until you are all healed and reformed." She sighed heavily, lowering her hands again. "It's just as I thought. Your face is changing colour. We'll need to prescribe you something for it." True. It was all red now. Would she need a mirror?

The healer reached for the clipboard across from her and began scribbling. "Denial as well..." She muttered as she scribbled. "But yes, I like your enthusiasm. You will not die so long as we are here! Now tell me, how have you been feeling lately? Stressed? Over worked? Under paid? Unfulfilled? Hmmmmm?" Leaning closer she pulled an eyelid down to check. It wasn't green. Huh. That ruled that out.



The nonchalance on this one was a telling sign, oh yes it was. He didn't understand the grave nature of this situation. He wasn't comprehending or perhaps he simply didn't know what was going on. The man had said his name, he knew that much but the healer had her doubts.

"I do believe you have an appointment yes, please come with me and we can have you sorted out." And poked and prodded and anything else she saw fit.

The examination room was all hers.



STARE.

Was this one stress reading?

Ravaora had seen that condition before. The woman was scared before her wits, terrified of what she would find out today and for that reason she was choosing to read. But what was it? What could possibly make people so utterly terrified that they would revert to witch weekly of all things??? Terrible thing this was and she would have to act fast.

"I'm afraid the situation is worst than your reading will be able to handle." She tsked as if disappointedly in life and all of this woman's choices. "Nothing to be done about that now though. You'll have to come with me and we'll see what we can find--pray to merlin we've caught it in time."