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one | voice, cell phone

My name is Strider. I run a small clinic just south of the Dead District.

It's the brick building with the broken sign that says LSR. You can't miss it.

Not exactly inspiring, I know. But it's clean, and I'm licensed -- which is more than you can say for most doctors you can afford without insurance.

[A pause.]

Many strange things have been happening lately.

If you come to me, I won't ask questions.

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It's been a bad decade.

I am sorry to hear it.

But you needn't concern yourself on my account. I'm well aware of the risks I take.

How has business been exactly?

Edited 2013-04-10 11:52 (UTC)

Lately? Busier than usual.

I can only imagine. Anyone of particular notoriety come to visit?

[Aaron's laughing again.]

First you ask me if I'm armed, and now you ask if I'm treating famous criminals! Are you trying to get me killed?

I suppose I can only assume that the lack of denial is an affirmative response.

I take confidentiality very seriously. Make of it what you will.

I suppose having a medical professional among us is an asset.

Don't sound too pleased.

You don't consider yourself an ally?

Of whom? I've taken no sides.

I am an ally of the sick and the injured. I'll treat anyone who comes through my door. That's all.

Neutral then. Interesting stance. I suppose you have your reasons.

I do. Experience.

I see. I'll leave you to it then.

....wait.

What side do you think of yourself as on, miss?

The right one.

[He thought that once, too. But now he's not sure there ever is a right side.]

I hope so.

[If she doesn't say anything more, he'll cut the feed.]

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