savetheearth | Sometimes there's only one place you can go.

Who: Vanessa and Aaron Strider
What: With memories she never had coming up, talking notepads and the revelation that she might have been dragged into something way over her head Vanessa heads to the safest place she knows to try to figure stuff out.
When: June 27th, late evening.
Where: The LSR clinic.

The LSR clinic was a familiar place to Vanessa. She'd been there many times since she was just a young kid new to the streets, since she had first dragged herself in, half dead with a fever. She'd half-expected to be turned away since all she had to pay with was a meager few dollars she'd scraped together but Doctor Strider had treated her anyway. Since then, she'd been there several times usually with a few bruises and scrapes, the occasional black eye and at least one time when a would-be mark had gotten the drop on her and nearly twisted her arm off in retaliation. Each time she paid as much as she could, never talked about herself and was never asked any questions, exactly how she preferred it.

Her last visit to the clinic had been a long time ago now, which was only natural. She had grown older, gotten faster and smarter and so she was hurt a lot less and having a roof over her head and real food meant she didn't get sick nearly as often or as badly. Still, it was a familiar place to her as she went through the motions, explaining her visit as a hurt wrist and took a seat to wait her turn.

That was a lie, of course, she was really just here because she needed to get her head around everything that had happened the past few days. She needed to make sure it was real and she needed to hear it from somebody she knew.

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Aaron walked into the waiting room about fifteen minutes later, walking the last patient out and giving her some final advice. After the door closed, he turned to look at Vanessa.

One eyebrow went up -- he recognized her at once. "Come on back, Vanessa," he said, beckoning for her to follow him through the door he came from, down a hallway and into an examining room. "What seems to be the trouble?" He picked up a clipboard hanging on a nail beside the door. "A hurt wrist...?"

Vanessa stood wordlessly when her name was called, holding her right arm close to keep up the illusion that she was actually injured somehow while she followed Dr. Strider to the examination room. Once there she waited until the door was closed before letting her arm drop to her side.

"Not really." She paused for a few seconds, debating how best to approach the subject before she made up her mind. She had come here for confirmation face-to-face and there was no point in beating around the bush. Either it was real or she had imagined it all. "842617935. I found the network."

He regarded Vanessa for a long moment, a deep frown crossing his face. "I see," he said, and his tone was that of someone who had just been given bad news. "Welcome to our ranks. You're in for a rough time of it, I'm afraid. How rough it will be remains to be seen."

He pulls in a breath, then blows it out again. "I assume you came to me for answers. I do not have as many as I'd like, but I'll gladly share what I know."

Vanessa on the other hand, was almost relieved to hear that it was real. Or at the very least, a smidgen of tension went out of her shoulders. She could deal with a rough time, it was the idea of seeing and hearing things that weren't there that had bothered her.

"Nobody I talked to on there had any answers either." She glanced around the room as she spoke, just to see if she could spot any of the strange items she'd seen in his video. "I think I just wanted to hear that it was real from somebody who wasn't talking to me from a sheet of paper."

None of the items in question were there -- the lost-and-found was kept in the small office next to the waiting-room. But if Vanessa stuck her head in there on the way out, she might see a sword-hilt sticking out of a milk crate.

"You're as sane as I am, and saner than some on that network," Aaron told her, shaking his head a little. He understood that she'd been asking questions of the people on the network already, but felt he should still offer: "Was there anything you wanted to ask me?"

Vanessa let out a long breath and leaned back against the examination table, folding her arms around herself. What else was there to ask? It was already some small comfort just knowing that it was real but that didn't make those phantom memories much easier to deal with. She could hardly close her eyes without remembering that... thing coming after her in the dark, staring at her with those spike-head eyes.

She shivered a little bit as the image reasserted itself, but that was the only indication she gave that it was bothering her when she spoke again.

"Do you have anything to drink here? I think I could use one."

"If you're looking for anything stronger than water or juice, you'll have to look elsewhere," Aaron said with a laugh. Of all the questions! It was entirely understandable, though. "This is a clinic."

And he didn't keep the weed here. That would just be unprofessional.

Vanessa sighed, that had been a long shot anyway. Booze was still one thing that was tough for her to get since apparently a skinny five-foot-nothing girl like her wasn't going to pass for anything but underage no matter what ID she got her hands on. Not that she wanted to get drunk (or high for that matter, she didn't tough the stuff) but being able to have a drink now and then would have been nice.

"Nevermind. Has anybody ever mentioned remembering something called 'Allomancy'?"

Aaron shook his head.

"Not yet. Not to me at least."

Alright, so no help there. Whatever it was, it seemed that she'd have to work it out for herself.

"Alright, then what have they been getting back? Is there some kind of pattern?"

"Memories, objects, and skills, as far as I can tell," replied the doctor. "Paranormal powers. And...I'm not sure--the situation was complicated--but I believe creatures might appear, as well."

The creature in question had been invisible and attached to a mentally unstable homeless boy. Aaron still didn't know for sure if it was a creature or a manifestation of uncontrolled telekinetic powers.

Creatures? That was the last thing she needed, to look up and find herself suddenly sharing an apartment with some... thing that had popped out of someone else's memories.

No, focus. She had to deal with the problems she had now, not the ones she was imagining.

"Okay, so no pattern yet." She frowned, staring at the floor in front of her like she was demanding it open up and start spitting answers out. "But that doesn't make any sense. Even for this, I mean. If that Sage thing was for real and we're supposed to save the world or whatever then why have us all remember different stuff? Why not just give us what we're supposed to know?"

"I don't know," Aaron admitted. "We don't even know for certain if there's a conscious power behind this. But if there is, it may only be possible for us to recall things piece by piece, or...it may be for the best." He took a breath. "Twice, I've relived memories of another life. Each time, when I came back, I was thinking more like him than myself. If I were to experience a whole lifetime at once...I don't know if I'd be me anymore.

"And besides," finished Aaron, "I'd be suspicious if all this were too easy."

That sent a shiver down her spine. In many ways the only person she'd ever really had had been herself and now this idea that somebody or something might be trying to, what, erase her? Replace her with this other person these memories belonged to?

That scared her far more than the idea of monsters or invaders.

"Maybe. Something just feels off." She rubbed a hand over her eyes. God, how long had it been since she'd gotten more than a few hours of sleep? "It's probably nothing. It's not like I have any idea what's going on, forget about how it's supposed to work."

Sometimes there's only one place you can go.

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