Claressa Nissa
Goldenrod General Hospital, Goldenrod City, Johto
Affecter RPers: None. This is getting redundant, yes.
Preparing a pretty pitiful post is a particularly powerful putdown.
Brushing open the door, Claressa was almost trampled by an overly eager orange blob of scales. They hugged her tightly, making her wince from the pressure and, with a heave, she managed to convince Dragon Barney to let go. Don't ask her why Dragonite, in the Pokedex, were classified as "brown" - she believed whoever had done the classifications had been colorblind, because Stark was very far from that color. There was very little she could do, however, so with a shrug she wandered over to the blender on the table, a lovely shade of blue that added a splash of color to the otherwise drab room. Apriblenders were great for trainers on the go, using the natural power of exercise to fuel their blades, but for home or the lazy bum who had a robot fetch their drinks, a normal kitchen blender with a reinforced blade did as good of a job. Better, actually, since you didn't have to wait bloody forever, running around like a nutcase to get a drink.
"HELLO NURSE!" She nearly cringed at the silky, oftentimes described as "ravishing", voice that was thrown her way. She ignored the pilot, instead plopping in one red, two yellow, and three blue apricorns. Pressing the button, it began to whir and grind the fruit together, before she finally decided to deal with the annoying pest that was staring at her back. At least, he better be staring at my back and not any lower if he knows what is good for him. Tony Shoatter, age fourty-eight and still stuck in his teenage years. He was out looking for love, and while he thinks he may have found it, she wasn't really convinced. Claressa was far too focused on her work to deal with a casanova with a hero's complex.
"Nuuuuurse~"
She turned around, sending him a sharp glare. "I am a doctor, not a nurse. The fact you disregard my credentials in favor of trying to sound cute really annoys me." Without hesitating, she picked up the clipboard and looked over his history. He was a fighter pilot, and his jet - he had named it Romeo as it liked to romance its opponents with a "fireworks display of passion" - had been shot down near Tohjo Falls by anti-air missiles set up by Kanto. He has safely ejected, but the resulting flames and shrapnel had riddled his back with plenty of wounds. Getting shot as he fled to safety didn't help much either, but thankfully it had only impacted the arm and had been easy to remove.
Granted, with Tony, you would have thought he had lost a leg the way he favored it and wailed about his appearance being ruined. He was, admittedly, handsome, with jet black hair and a masculine figure decked out in army gear. He was fond of boots anyway, as he had bought a nice pair of black leather boots for normal wear. Men and their boots, honestly. She wasn’t really aware of what else he wore outside of his uniform – she sure as hell wasn’t going to ask the obnoxious flirt, as he would no doubt see that as an invitation. Claressa didn’t do invitations; she dragged your butt where she wanted it to go regardless of complaints filed.
“So, here to give me my medicine?” No, but she would love to give him a tranquilizer. Picking up the top of the blender, she poured the liquid into two cups, handing one to Stark and the other to Tony. While the dragon appeared to greatly enjoy the batch, his trainer crinkled his nose. “Needs more sugar, darling.” Next time, Claressa decided, she was going to add a Spelon berry to the concoction for spite. This man was just grating on the nerves.
“How have you been feeling? The last test was a week and a half ago, and even though I utterly despise you, I need to make sure you are okay.” He reported nothing unusual, and the same went to Stark. The cold cut to the Burst Heart seemed to have greatly helped their bodies, and both were functioning correctly. Stark had taken to practicing his moves on the rooftop, trying to keep in tip top shape while his trainer recovered. It was apparent Tony could return to combat any time he wished, however, he was proving to be very useful with research.
Speaking of research… Pulling out a key and approaching the nightstand beside his bed, she unlocked it and removed a palm sized piece of glass. It was colored red, almost as if someone had taken the “heart” part literal, and honestly remained her of stained glass. In that regard, it was beautiful, and she examined it closely, barely making out the machinery inside. It was most certainly manufactured, but there was a lot more going on than just simple machinery. She wasn’t an engineer and couldn’t hope to figure it out, but there had to be something wrong.
And then she had the bright idea to shake it lightly.
There was a rather notable rattling sound as she did this, and she nearly dropped the device at that moment. Asking both Tony and Stark to listen, she repeated the motion, and they both agreed they could hear it. When asked what it meant, she simply stated that she believed it was a malfunctioning Burst Heart, but since she did not have a genuine article she could not be sure if the noise was normal or not. Considering it was a device with gadgets and junk on the inside, rattling was not something that should be heard.
“You made me use a malfunctioning device?” He was incredulous, to say the least.
She quickly held up a hand. “I didn’t know. I only realized it earlier today, as I was thinking about the results. I intend to get a genuine article…somehow…and test it that way. I would like to test it on someone else, since I can’t risk you and Stark anymore with the side effects. There is the chance…if you kept going…that you wouldn’t be able to come undone. As much as you annoy me and make me lose my mental stability, allowing a patient to slip into an unhealthy condition is against my policy.”
He grinned. “Well, glad to know you care about me.” She rolled her eyes, groaning. He was never going to change. Still, she had to find a way to get an actual Burst Heart. This meant a variety of things, but the difficulty would be to find one that was not manufactured. She might have to go to the one who created them in the first place, and in fact had an unsent email that had been sitting for quite some time, ready to be go on its epic internet voyage. She'd have to add on some details to it, but she had to consider the risks. The government was more than likely keeping a close eye on him, and if they read that email... Well, to put it bluntly, she might suddenly have a blade to her throat. They didn't exactly take well to research being done on their precious military items.
Everything is so complicated. Greed is such a pain in the gluteus maximus.



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