Oh dear sweet Merlin, Circe above, was the woman scratching?? She was! The way her hand moved across her cheek like that surely couldn't have been coincidence! Ravaora wracked her mind, trying to remember if this was contagious but of course it couldn't be or she would have been scratching too by now. The healer wagged her finger in reprimand. "Don't scratch it, Love, you'll only infect the area further." Then they would be in some serious trouble. Didn't want that, right?

She noted the disoriented look of the woman, like she was looking for something but there was nothing to be sought in this room. Sigh. It truly was setting in, wasn't it-- hdsfkvjf and that rambling she was doing!! Nevermind it had only been one question, it was one question too many!!!

"There is nothing wrong with your face that we cannot fix." Such a trooper she was, denying the inevitable in the face of death. It was almost sad. Tragic really. "But things are most certainly not alright. You have acute Pruritusism, confudosis and the beginnings of what can only be classified as Loquentes Ieiuniumtis categorized by scratching, disorientation and rambling respectively--NOT TO WORRY, we've seen worse cases." Ravaora reached for her clipboard and made a few jottings then thwacked a blue sticky post it on her forward followed by a purple. "There, now you can begin receiving the adequate help you need." Weren't colours FUN? "Any questions before you go?"



The nonchalance was going nowhere with this one and she noticed it clung to his outer person even as he made his way behind her into the examination room. With a flick of her wand the door slammed shut forever at which point she gave him a once over. Still, this nonchalance...he might have been one of her most serious cases but he had no idea. Ravaora took a device and pressed it to his neck. "Normal heart rate..." Her hand smacked lightly against his cheek next. "Rough texture..."

Oh yes, she saw, she saw very clearly and it was no wonder she hadn't picked it up earlier. The Healer circled him once, given him another once over before, "How do you feel about clowns?--I need you to tell me a joke, Sir." Yes, got on it. Make her laugh, prove her wrong.

Or perhaps prove her right, there was an injection for everything afterall.



"A break you say? No better break than giving me the chance to get your check up underway. It won't take long and surely you know you can't check yourself." Professionals such as themselves were above that level of thinking so yes Mr. Cresswell, we'd LOVE to have a go at you.

So tense, he seemed and she already had a few conclusions she'd drawn on. Just needed him alone in a room with a couple prodding equipment and the truth would be uncovered in no time.

"Right this way if you will." But really he had no choice.



And here the confused look persisted. If the young woman kept this up, Ravaora wouldn't need an entire check up to tell her what was wrong. This poor POOR dear. Still so young. She bet she hadn't had the opportunity to live her life to the fullest yet she was already losing brain function. What a cruel world they lived in inside this graveyard in disguise. That's all this place really was.

Better start out simple, speak slow enough so her brain could keep up. "Can you tell me what year the Mole People invaded New York City?" With the confused, you always needed to know how aware they were of current affairs. Perhaps the damage was not nearly as extensive. "And who is the current Minister for Magic....in Czechoslovakia?" Hmmmmm?

While she questioned, she prodded lightly at her arms, her face, her stomach. Just checking for nervous system responses, don't mind us.



Did no one else SEE how slowly she put away her reading material?? Her motor function was decreasing. How tragic! Never to walk the lonely road again because she wouldn't be walking. Despite the decrease happening in the arms, everyone knew the legs would ultimately be the first to go. Perhaps one day while in those heels....those heels. "Why do you wear those?" Important question.

Ah but here they had another confused one as well. Asking an abundance of questions, rambling on as she did as if she couldn't help herself. The processes in her mind must have been going too fast!! DEFINITELY COULDN'T WAIT, NOPE, THIS ONE WAS A TICKING TIME BOMB.

"This situation, yes." Ravaora explained as she led her into the room. "You must first understand how serious this is. How long have you been rambling? Childhood? New found habit? Why do you think you do it?" Would her brain process all those? Perhaps she should have slowed down. Mid questioning she reached forward and flicked the woman in the head once....twice...thrice...what was the reaction time here?



Eeeeekkkkkkkk!!!!

Such rapid and uncontrolled limb motion!! Ravaora watched with a wide eyed fascination as the man's frustration built. Quick tempered. Easily irritated. Obviously stressed and in need of sedation--those reflexes........"You must be on edge." She started slowly as she made a slow advance toward him, syringe posed in hand. So tense this one. It was obvious what he had and becoming obvious of a second symptom as well. "Here, let me help you. This job can be so stressful." Sloooooowly drawing closer, syringe with green liquid inside that would make him HAPPY for a loooong time. "Come now Mr. Grumpykins."

WHOOOAAAA sound the alarm! He was BABBLING rubbish! "MERLIN DIDN'T HAVE FLUFFY SLIPPERS SIR!!!" See why this needle in hand was necessary? If he wasn't careful the one with yellow would be next.




Could she find the door? Would she have to lead the way? Because she would you know. Ravaora was here to HELP and if people within the Ministry were starting to lose their sight one was expected to be extra helpful. Not much of a talker she noted as well. Closing the door behind her she looked to the hesitant young woman--that was it, wasn't it?? The hesitancy, the uncertainty....Merlin why didn't she see this sooner. "How long have you been working here?" It could already be too late but she still had to TRY.



Just as she'd gotten through with another of the dying she heard her name above the hum and buzz of the room. Oh, Wandastian! The Healer smiled, making her way over. "I thought you'd be offering your assistance to those on the lower levels." Was it that they didn't trust the Healers at the Ministry? Absolutely.

"I like to think I've made excellent progress up here." As proven by all the people who now knew for a fact they were dying. They were most welcome. She was here to help.



The short responses only continued despite Ravaora's BEST efforts to stir up a riveting conversation between the two. Such a shame it was, it seemed her speech function really was being run down to nothing. There might have been a shot for that...or a potion but they were hardly prepared for a case such as hers.

Aaaand she was a none toucher. "Fear of contact." She noted with a scribble to her board as she entered the room. While they were on this, for someone that didn't say much in any one go, she spoke a lot....rambled even...went off on tangents. Ravaora was lucky to keep up!!! Yessss, quite alarming to say the least. "Would you prefer to sit? Weak in the knees? How long has this problem persisted?" But by all means the woman could sit. It would make the injection go by easier if it came to that. Just a thought.

"How often do you come in contact with people?" Or did she run for the hills the moment it was initiated. Could be anything. Anything so just in case Ravaora began preparing a syringe. "This has been known to cure even the most dead of men." She promised, giving the needle a light flick. If your legs didn't want to wake, they obviously needed a waker upper.

"So, tell me, do you eat at the food court here?"



Ravaora's radar was aaaallll over this one. The way she kept eyeing her, all the leaning away she was doing. Telling signs indeed and the moment she got back into the examination room she was taking notes. "Would you consider yourself suspicious of most things and most people? Hmmmm? Suspicious of me? Of this needle?" No worries, we won't be using it on you....unless of course...the woman became uncooperative, then they would run into some problems.

Interruption indeed. The Healer glanced up from the syringe and toward Miss Pushy. "Rambling as well....." Scribble scribble scribble. So much to discover with this one and so little time before she had to save yet another from dying. A Healer's work was never done, now was it?

"Would you say you get enough sleep in?"



Wasn't this one a doll? Literally, such nice blonde hair and those cheek bones. Half plastic she was. Not safe for the environment at all--AND NOT SHARING. Why? That was the most important question as Ravaora walked over to the couch. If she had to guess, the young woman was a conspiracy theorist with the idea everyone in this room was infected and she was next. "You don't have to worry. I'm on YOUR side." The Healer whispered loudly, her hands cupped around her mouth and her tone slow as if the girl were either hard of hearing or hard of understanding. Had to get the message out.

"I'll need you to come with me. I can save you from the death chamber if you hurry." Otherwise Ravaora would dutifully turn out for the funeral. Once you met someone you couldn't just NOT attend, it was rude. [b]"Do you need a hand getting up?

Ah hah! Trick question! Bet she never saw that one coming.



These two Protested FAR too much. Honestly, how did they expect her to do her job? She couldn't save lives if the lives were clinging to the reaper and telling her she may be excused and Ravaora would be damned if she let these two slip through her well manicured fingers. It simply wouldn't be happening on her watch...that...she left back in her office. Huh. Wow. Bad omen right there.

Once inside she turned first to the rambler. "You talk a lot, like A LOT. Classic sign Sweetheart but I know what to do in such a case." Without warning she stuck something in his ear, "Say 'ahhhhhh'" Walking around his chair, she skilfully ignored the walking cane the old man had been on about. If he used the cane, it wouldn't be HER bloody miracle now would it? "This stuttering, have you always had it? How do you feel about dying? Don't you think my job is important?" Sometimes...it was nice to feel appreciated while you worked.

Which brought her to the next one. Mr. Hero Complex. "You don't like being alone do you? It's why you INSISTED on coming in with Mr. Clarke here--it's okay, no need to explain. I understand. You've got deeply routed trust issues stemming from all the horrors you've seen in this place."

Her heart went out to him, with every beat she could feel his anguish and was right her with the sedating syringe once he took a seat because those arms, those muscle, rawr. Had to get a feel before he was a goner, you know?



Oh wow! This one was changing colour without her having smacked him first!!

!!!

!!!!!

How exciting!!--Yet tragic, so so tragic. Was he another lost soul come for the little help he may receive? She knew the type well, she'd seen enough of them since the morning began. if you asked her, he looked nothing but uneasy, even more so after yelling happened somewhere in the room. Wait...she knew that look.

"MERLIN'S GREAT GROGGY BEARD HE'S HAVING A HEART ATTACK!!" Nooooooo!!! Ravaora rushed over to the man and tackled him to the floor. "Not to worry Sir, I know exactly what to do." She began pumping at his chest aggressively, like they did in those muggle movies where every second counted.

"You will LIVE dammit!!"



Hold the snitch! That shrill screeching!!! Loranys!! Ravaora whipped around at the sudden call to action and practically FLEW over to her bestfriend and the patie---"Hopping hippogriffs!!!" The Healer's eyes were WIDE as she leaned forward with all the care in the medical world. Just look at him. Hardly able to move, the poor dear. His motor skills must have been going too. She'd seen a few like that since morning. This place got more tragic by the hour.

"So many.....so.....many....." DISEASES. She turned to Loranys. "Have you told him he's dying as yet?" Because that was HER job best friend or not. Eyes still wide, she turned to the obviously disoriented--or delusional if he was asking for help when help was RIGHT HERE--man. Ravaora placed her hand to his face and sighed deeply. "If it's the last thing I do. You will LIVE! Living is what we DO, OKAY??"

She just needed to get him to the room and he would be properly taken care of, him and all his lovely muscle. Oh yes, this one was nice, he would have to live for sure. "Do you mind giving a watch for me?" She asked as she prepared to leave. No time to waste!