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xp_logs2004-04-19 11:10 pm
x-tarot.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2004-04-19 11:10 pm
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Around five this evening, Doug comes to check on Marie-Ange, and takes care of her. He's good like that. Also, he does a pretty good impression of Spike from Buffy. This serves no purpose other than to let him make silly quotes later.
Doug tapped hesitantly at Marie-Ange's door. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of her for most of the day, and not many of the other students had either, apparently. "Angie? You in there?"
Marie-Ange poked her head out from under the pillow, identified the voice as Doug's, and decided that, after all the other crap that had happened today, it wasn't worth it, so she pulled the pillow -back- over her head.
Doug tapped again at the door, worried. He'd checked the sunroom, the library, and most of the other places Marie-Ange usually went to relax. The only remaining option was her room, and the fact that she wasn't answering the door didn't bode well. Doug grimaced and knocked more loudly.
More knocking. More noises. Marie-Ange mumbled quietly, reached up, and threw a spare pillow in the general direction of the door. It that was Clarice, again, she was going to just retreat -under- the bed. Which sounded like a pretty good idea anyway, now that she thought of it.
"Angie? If you're in there, please open the door?" Doug was going to feel very stupid if he was knocking and talking at the door of an empty room, but he just couldn't think of anyplace else that Marie-Ange could have gone. Besides which, he knew she had a tendency to retreat to (or under) her bed.
Marie-Ange sighed, and sat up, covering her eyes with her hand. The light was still painful, and her head still felt like someone had been prodding it with many small forks. Into her right eye. Also into her left, but not quite as much, and she wasn't even really sure why she was thinking of the difference between how much each side hurt. Except that it was really hard to concentrate on anything else. She looked at the door, hoping to develop telekinesis, to avoid getting up. When -that- didn't happen, she sighed. "It is unlocked." she said, tiredly.
The door opened immediately, and Doug read the pain rolling off of Marie-Ange instantly. "Angie?" he asked quietly, suddenly hesitant. "What...what's wrong? Is...is there anything I can do?" he asked, afraid that the answer would be 'go away'.
"Head hurts." Angie said in French, too exhausted to even attempt English. "Manuel's broken, and sick and not dead, and my head hurts so much." She curled up, laying back down on her bed, still covering her eyes with her hand. "Sun is too bright. Hurts."
Doug quickly (and quietly) shut the door to the hallway, and rushed over to shut the blinds as best he could. A small amount of sunlight leaked around the edges, but there wasn't really anything he could think of to deal with that. After that, he looked around the room, unable to think of what to do next.
As the light in the room dimmed, Marie-Ange peeked through her fingers. The shade didn't make the headache better, but it at least made it feel like it wouldn't get -worse-. She sighed, too tired to sit up again, and wanting just to be held, and far, far too upset to think about asking. "What time is it?" she asked in a whisper.
Doug brought his wristwatch up to his face and looked. "Getting on toward five o'clock. Almost dinnertime." He spoke in a very soft tone of voice, but his worry for Marie-Ange shone through.
"Slept all day. Not good." Marie-Ange sighed. "Did 'manda and Angelo come home?" She asked, trying to avoid the -other- subject, the one she'd dragged down to the infirmary, and hoping Doug wouldn't notice that she'd mentioned it before.
Doug shrugged. "Scott said that Ms. Frost and Mr. Wisdom picked them up and that they're on their way back. Don't know much more than that," he replied. Finally, the previous comment clicked in his brain as his "must do something" urge slowly subsided. "And Angie? Why's Manuel broken?"
Marie-Ange whimpered, hearing Manuel's name, and struggled to find an answer that made -sense-. "I think he drowned a little" she finally said, after a long moment of silence. Very little was making sense. She knew there was no reason for Doug to be upset with her, but she couldnt' shake the fear that he would be.
Doug blinked. "He drowned? How would you have..." he trailed off, realizing what the headache meant. "You saw it, didn't you?" he asked. "Can I do anything? Do you want painkillers?"
"Saw it, and stopped it and now he's just sick and not dead." Angie said, not able to meet Doug's eyes. She curled up on her side, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Aspirin. please. I think I haven't had any... not sure." She go of her knee with one hand and gestured towards her desk.
Doug fished through the desk for the bottle of asprin, and then grabbed a convenient bottle of water. He sat down next to Marie-Ange, and prodded her. "C'mon, love, sit up for just a second so you can take these."
Marie-Ange pushed herself up to a seated position slowly, and took the asprin with a slightly shaking hand. Once she had taken it, and finished half the bottle of water - more thirsty than she had realized - she let out a sigh, though the noise was closer to a suppressed sob, and leaned on Doug's shoulder. "Slept all day, and still -so- tired."
Doug gently directed Marie-Ange to lie back down on the bed and lay down behind her, spooning against her back and wrapping one arm around her waist. He had a very stern discussion with his libido for a moment, keeping it firmly reined in, even though the softness of Marie-Ange's skin played havoc with his self-control.
Just feeling Doug next to her helped some, and Marie-Ange relaxed slightly, closing her eyes and hoping that the aspirin would kick in -soon-. The throbbing in her head was starting to lessen, but she wasn't sure if that was due to the painkillers, or the warmth at her back, or just knowing that Doug wasn't angry, which she still didn't understand. "I don't want to sleep anymore today.. " she said. "Slept -so- much, and it didn't help."
Doug had another argument with his libido and self-control about things that could be done in lieu of sleep, and kept his arm firmly around Marie-Ange's waist to keep his hands from going anyplace else. "Okay," he answered quietly. "Is there something you'd like to do instead?" he asked.
"Anything that is not loud, or brightly coloured." she answered. "Just need not to think for a little while."
"Sunroom?" Doug asked. "We can just go and sit there and be quiet, and I can cheerfully dismember anyone who interrupts us?" He chuckled. "But quietly, of course. And out in the hallway where you don't have to see it." He stroked her hair gently.
Though, she was still tired, and sore in the head and tense beyond belief, Marie-Ange laughed. "You would dismember people for me?" She wiggled a little, trying to sit up, fearing that if she remained laying down, she would drift off to sleep again, and return to the odd nightmares about lizards and pudding and Manuel's eyes.
Doug noticed the tension in Marie-Ange's body, and smiled. "I really would. No interruptions for my lady love. And a backrub. Definitely a backrub."
Her sense of humor recovering slowly, despite the stress, Marie-Ange giggled. "That is very.. I do not know, perhaps, very Angelus of you. Which would explain the brooding, I think?" She managed to sit up, frowning down at her stomach when it protested the movement, and its lack of contents. "Sunroom, and maybe eating, and backrubs. I like that plan."
Doug smiled. "Hey, at least I don't wear a bunch of 'nancy-boy hairgel'," he replied, doing an uncanny imitation of Spike's Cockney accent. "And I think I like the idea of pampering you a bit. Get you all installed and stuff in the sunroom, and then I'll go get whatever you'd like to eat. How does chocolate ice cream sound?"
Later, Moira finds Doug and Angie in the sunroom, and since Doug missed his appointment, she has them both go to her office for a checkup. There, Doug finds the rock Cain gave Moira, and translates the writing on it.
Frowning, after finding both Marie-Ange's room and Doug's room (where else do you find a precog if not with a translator?), she decided to try the sunroom. Both seemed rather partial to it and besides, it couldn't hurt. As Moira approached, she decided to call out. Best not to startle her, or them. "Angie?"
Marie-Ange looked up from where she was louging in the last rays of the setting sun, resting her head on Doug's leg, and finally mostly over her headache. Thank God, and whoever invented aspirin and chocolate ice cream. "We need a better place to hide." she said quietly to Doug. "People keep expecting us here."
Doug nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right. I did promise dismemberment if there were interruptions. But I _like_ Doc Mactaggart. Do I have to dismember her?" He grinned.
"No. I think my headache is better enough that I can let you not dismember anyone." Angie grinned back. "Besides, I think Nathan would get upset." She moved to sit up, then decided that it wasn't worth moving yet, and shifted to put her head back down on Doug's leg. "We are in here, Dr. MacTaggart." she called back.
"O' good," Moira replied, walking through the door. "Wit' ye two bein' some o' our more quiet students, 'tis almost impossible ta locate ye sometimes." Her tone is light but she looks worried. "Scott asked me ta come check on ye, Angie. Worried tha' usin' yer powers 'urt ye or...well, in general, worried."
"Did he say which one?" Marie-Ange said, wincing. Then, she caught herself, and frowned. "I had a rather bad headache, though, most of it seems to have passed, I believe." Despite her words, the girl's face was still pale and tight, and her voice was tense, like she was forcing most of the pain -out- of it.
Doug sighed. He was still worried about Marie-Ange's condition, but he didn't think it would be right to contradict his girlfriend in front of Doctor Mactaggart, even if it was pretty obvious she was faking.
The frown on her face deepened. "Still, there's some tea in me office, I'd jus' like ta make sure ye're okay. Besides..." Her gaze flickered to Doug. "Someone was supposed t' come see me today."
Marie-Ange's eyes flickered up to look at Doug, and she frowned. "You skipped your appointment.. to make sure I was okay, didn't you?"
Doug shrugged. "It seemed a bit more important to me, love. I was worried." He glanced up at Moira. "Sorry, Doc, I was a bit preoccupied. I forgot."
"So I get two birds wit' one stone?" Moira asked, smiling at the couple in front of her. "Nay, 'tis okay, but I think it may be good if'n I see ye bot' now."
Marie-Ange frowned. "We have to get up, yes?" She was comfortable. She didn't -want- to get up. .. She knew quite well she would have to because Doug's headache had been probably as bad as hers were normally, and it was a problem, and she could always go back to being comfortable later.
"Unless ye convince Doug ta give ye a piggy back ride...aye, I believe so. Besides, me office is quiet, dark an' 'as a surprisin' amount o' tea an' chocolate..."
Doug stroked Marie-Ange's hair gently. "I'll make it up to you later, love."
Marie-Ange smiled at the idea of Doug giving anyone but Artie or Miles a piggyback ride.. "I think maybe walking would be better. I am a bit -tall- for those." She shook her head. It was really a very silly idea. Reluctantly, she sat up, and stretched. "Tea would be good. Chocolate, .. I think I may have had too much of that already."
Doug grinned. "No such animal, Angie. You can never have too much chocolate." He stood up and offered his hand to Marie-Ange.
"Then shall we? An' if either o' ye say 'Lead on, McDuff' I shall be forced int' violence."
The trio quickly made their way to Doctor MacTaggart's office, where Doug and Marie-Ange waited for Moira to precede them in.
"Right, ye two 'ave a seat on th' couch. Tea an' asprin, comin' up for ye Angie. Unfortunatly, Doug, various testin' doesnae come in different flavors."
Marie-Ange curled up on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her. "Sometimes it has a cute bowtie though." She grinned, remembering the emails from the night before.
Doug grinned. "Yes. If I have to have my own little brain machine, I get to give it a funny name and dress it up, too."
A raised eyebrow and a shake of the head was the only answer. It was obvious that Moira was trying to play off the stress of the day. Luckily, she had two willing people to take care of. "I'm jus' goin' ta run ye through some physical tests first, Doug, an' then, if needed, brin' out one o' th' machines." She went over to her desk, looking for some paperwork.
Doug wandered over to Doctor Mactaggart's desk, drawn to the fairly large rock that was holding down some papers. He looked at it curiously.
Marie-Ange blinked as Doug got up silently, and wandered over towards the desk. "Doug?" she said quietly, as he peered at what seemed to be a .. big rock. "What are you looking at?" She asked.
Doug grinned at Marie-Ange. "It's a big rock," he replied in a Cockney accent. "Can't wait to tell my friends. _They_ don't have a rock this big." He snickered at the joke, then cocked his head at the rock. Slowly, he kept turning his head, until it was nearly upside down. Finally, he reached out and flipped the rock over so it was right side up. He squinted at what appeared to be text on the side. "Um, Doc? Who's 'the dread god Cyttorak', and why should we be falling down on our faces before him?"
Blinking, Moira looked up from what she had been gathering from her desk. "Wha' are ye talkin' 'bout? Tha's jus' a...ye read those scratches?" The look on her face could only be described as confused. "Cain got it for me..." She looked at her computer and then walked around Doug. Gently, she grabbed his shoulders and steered him towards the computer. "Think ye can do a wee bit o' research, lad?" she asked, before gently plonking him down in the chair.
Doug shrugged and cracked his fingers. "Roger wilco, Doc," he replied, curiosity piqued. He began typing rapidly at the keyboard, paging through various sites based on the keyword "Cyttorak".
Finally, after a few minutes, he leaned back from the keyboard. "Here you go, Doc. The Dread God Cyttorak." The slightly mocking capitalization was evident in his voice. "The god of destruction. The unmaker of creation. Feared and worshipped by an ancient civilization in the Vietnam region. Looks like a sort of analogue to Shiva. Aaaaand..." He clicked a couple of times. "Right. There's an image of his avatar." He turned the monitor to where Doctor Mactaggart could see it.
"Wha' th' bloody 'ell is tha' doin' on me rock?" She paused. "Wha' th' bloody 'ell is tha' 'ave ta do wit' Cain?"
Marie-Ange, who had been watching from comfortable spot on the sofa, made a tiny startled -squeak- when Doug turned the monitor. She walked over to get a closer look at the screen, convinced she was seeing things. Shaking her head, she whispered in French. "That.. cannot be right. That cannot be the real one." She frowned, and touched the screen with a finger. "Doug, .. are you sure? That is the avatar of that name you said?"
Doug nodded. "That's the avatar of Cyttorak." He looked curiously at Marie-Ange. "Why?"
Marie-Ange's face grew paler, and she sighed. "I drew that." She looked over at Dr. MacTaggart. "You have copies still, yes?"
The image on the screen *looked* familiar but Moira's mind was not in the best of places currently. "Aye, in me drawer." It only took her a few seconds to locate them and she handed them over.
Marie-Ange flipped through the photocopied pages rapidly, with the ease of someone who knew her own work intimatly. She put three pages down on the desk, and pointed. "Those. I drew those on the same night. It .. ruined my entire red pastel." One picture was a red skeleton, in what appeared to be armor, eyes glowing hellishly through a domed helmet. Another was nearly identical to the picture Doug had pointed out on the website, a large muscular male figure in the same armor as the skeleton. The third was eeriely familar, the red hair and scowling face of Cain Marko atop the same armor as the first two.
"Well. *Shit*." Moira said, feelingly.
Doug blinked. "That's...hold on a second." He checked some text on the screen. "Right. The legend describes the avatar as a sort of...it translates as 'juggernaut'. That reminds me of..." He trailed off and opened a second window. Quickly typing, he brought up a site which, judging by its headers, was devoted to urban legends. "I remember there being something in here about..." he mumbled under his breath.
"Ah. There." He pointed to the screen. "A 'human juggernaut'. The picture's kind of grainy, but who does that look like to you?"
Marie-Ange blinked, nearly audibly, and coughed. "That explains a lot. I told you he worked for Sauron." She said, dryly.
"Ye know, all I ask for is a comfortable bed, a good roof over me 'ead an' Nathan. I dinnae remember askin' for lon' dead elder Gods ta show up bein' talked 'bout on me rock." Sighing, Moira looked at the two in front of her. "Can ye two compile me a report on wha' ye find an' wha' ye drew? I...dinnae know wha' Cain's reaction ta this is goin' ta be an' I'd rather I broke it to 'im."
Doug nodded. "I think we can whip something up for you, Doc." He crossed his fingers hoping she was distracted from all the tests she wanted to run, so that he could go back to snuggling with Marie-Ange.
Without missing a beat, Moira continued. "An' dinnae believe this lets ye off th' 'ook fer a wee second, me lad. I can start up th' tests while we search."
Doug sighed. He couldn't even curse feelingly in Askani and get away with it, because Doctor MacTaggart might have picked it up from contact with Nathan. He grumbled under his breath. "Right. Lead the way, Doc."
Marie-Ange rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Mr. Marko already knows that I know about the big red eye. I asked him. When I had detention." She said quietly. "He seemed a little surprised, and tried to say he was not a big red skeleton."
"Well, 'e *is* a wee bit fleshier than a skeleton, I'll give 'im tha'. But we'll see where this information leads, aye?" She smiled, relaxing a little for the first time. "Good job, ye two."
And, last, for the record - the page that Doug found - is here
Doug tapped hesitantly at Marie-Ange's door. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of her for most of the day, and not many of the other students had either, apparently. "Angie? You in there?"
Marie-Ange poked her head out from under the pillow, identified the voice as Doug's, and decided that, after all the other crap that had happened today, it wasn't worth it, so she pulled the pillow -back- over her head.
Doug tapped again at the door, worried. He'd checked the sunroom, the library, and most of the other places Marie-Ange usually went to relax. The only remaining option was her room, and the fact that she wasn't answering the door didn't bode well. Doug grimaced and knocked more loudly.
More knocking. More noises. Marie-Ange mumbled quietly, reached up, and threw a spare pillow in the general direction of the door. It that was Clarice, again, she was going to just retreat -under- the bed. Which sounded like a pretty good idea anyway, now that she thought of it.
"Angie? If you're in there, please open the door?" Doug was going to feel very stupid if he was knocking and talking at the door of an empty room, but he just couldn't think of anyplace else that Marie-Ange could have gone. Besides which, he knew she had a tendency to retreat to (or under) her bed.
Marie-Ange sighed, and sat up, covering her eyes with her hand. The light was still painful, and her head still felt like someone had been prodding it with many small forks. Into her right eye. Also into her left, but not quite as much, and she wasn't even really sure why she was thinking of the difference between how much each side hurt. Except that it was really hard to concentrate on anything else. She looked at the door, hoping to develop telekinesis, to avoid getting up. When -that- didn't happen, she sighed. "It is unlocked." she said, tiredly.
The door opened immediately, and Doug read the pain rolling off of Marie-Ange instantly. "Angie?" he asked quietly, suddenly hesitant. "What...what's wrong? Is...is there anything I can do?" he asked, afraid that the answer would be 'go away'.
"Head hurts." Angie said in French, too exhausted to even attempt English. "Manuel's broken, and sick and not dead, and my head hurts so much." She curled up, laying back down on her bed, still covering her eyes with her hand. "Sun is too bright. Hurts."
Doug quickly (and quietly) shut the door to the hallway, and rushed over to shut the blinds as best he could. A small amount of sunlight leaked around the edges, but there wasn't really anything he could think of to deal with that. After that, he looked around the room, unable to think of what to do next.
As the light in the room dimmed, Marie-Ange peeked through her fingers. The shade didn't make the headache better, but it at least made it feel like it wouldn't get -worse-. She sighed, too tired to sit up again, and wanting just to be held, and far, far too upset to think about asking. "What time is it?" she asked in a whisper.
Doug brought his wristwatch up to his face and looked. "Getting on toward five o'clock. Almost dinnertime." He spoke in a very soft tone of voice, but his worry for Marie-Ange shone through.
"Slept all day. Not good." Marie-Ange sighed. "Did 'manda and Angelo come home?" She asked, trying to avoid the -other- subject, the one she'd dragged down to the infirmary, and hoping Doug wouldn't notice that she'd mentioned it before.
Doug shrugged. "Scott said that Ms. Frost and Mr. Wisdom picked them up and that they're on their way back. Don't know much more than that," he replied. Finally, the previous comment clicked in his brain as his "must do something" urge slowly subsided. "And Angie? Why's Manuel broken?"
Marie-Ange whimpered, hearing Manuel's name, and struggled to find an answer that made -sense-. "I think he drowned a little" she finally said, after a long moment of silence. Very little was making sense. She knew there was no reason for Doug to be upset with her, but she couldnt' shake the fear that he would be.
Doug blinked. "He drowned? How would you have..." he trailed off, realizing what the headache meant. "You saw it, didn't you?" he asked. "Can I do anything? Do you want painkillers?"
"Saw it, and stopped it and now he's just sick and not dead." Angie said, not able to meet Doug's eyes. She curled up on her side, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Aspirin. please. I think I haven't had any... not sure." She go of her knee with one hand and gestured towards her desk.
Doug fished through the desk for the bottle of asprin, and then grabbed a convenient bottle of water. He sat down next to Marie-Ange, and prodded her. "C'mon, love, sit up for just a second so you can take these."
Marie-Ange pushed herself up to a seated position slowly, and took the asprin with a slightly shaking hand. Once she had taken it, and finished half the bottle of water - more thirsty than she had realized - she let out a sigh, though the noise was closer to a suppressed sob, and leaned on Doug's shoulder. "Slept all day, and still -so- tired."
Doug gently directed Marie-Ange to lie back down on the bed and lay down behind her, spooning against her back and wrapping one arm around her waist. He had a very stern discussion with his libido for a moment, keeping it firmly reined in, even though the softness of Marie-Ange's skin played havoc with his self-control.
Just feeling Doug next to her helped some, and Marie-Ange relaxed slightly, closing her eyes and hoping that the aspirin would kick in -soon-. The throbbing in her head was starting to lessen, but she wasn't sure if that was due to the painkillers, or the warmth at her back, or just knowing that Doug wasn't angry, which she still didn't understand. "I don't want to sleep anymore today.. " she said. "Slept -so- much, and it didn't help."
Doug had another argument with his libido and self-control about things that could be done in lieu of sleep, and kept his arm firmly around Marie-Ange's waist to keep his hands from going anyplace else. "Okay," he answered quietly. "Is there something you'd like to do instead?" he asked.
"Anything that is not loud, or brightly coloured." she answered. "Just need not to think for a little while."
"Sunroom?" Doug asked. "We can just go and sit there and be quiet, and I can cheerfully dismember anyone who interrupts us?" He chuckled. "But quietly, of course. And out in the hallway where you don't have to see it." He stroked her hair gently.
Though, she was still tired, and sore in the head and tense beyond belief, Marie-Ange laughed. "You would dismember people for me?" She wiggled a little, trying to sit up, fearing that if she remained laying down, she would drift off to sleep again, and return to the odd nightmares about lizards and pudding and Manuel's eyes.
Doug noticed the tension in Marie-Ange's body, and smiled. "I really would. No interruptions for my lady love. And a backrub. Definitely a backrub."
Her sense of humor recovering slowly, despite the stress, Marie-Ange giggled. "That is very.. I do not know, perhaps, very Angelus of you. Which would explain the brooding, I think?" She managed to sit up, frowning down at her stomach when it protested the movement, and its lack of contents. "Sunroom, and maybe eating, and backrubs. I like that plan."
Doug smiled. "Hey, at least I don't wear a bunch of 'nancy-boy hairgel'," he replied, doing an uncanny imitation of Spike's Cockney accent. "And I think I like the idea of pampering you a bit. Get you all installed and stuff in the sunroom, and then I'll go get whatever you'd like to eat. How does chocolate ice cream sound?"
Later, Moira finds Doug and Angie in the sunroom, and since Doug missed his appointment, she has them both go to her office for a checkup. There, Doug finds the rock Cain gave Moira, and translates the writing on it.
Frowning, after finding both Marie-Ange's room and Doug's room (where else do you find a precog if not with a translator?), she decided to try the sunroom. Both seemed rather partial to it and besides, it couldn't hurt. As Moira approached, she decided to call out. Best not to startle her, or them. "Angie?"
Marie-Ange looked up from where she was louging in the last rays of the setting sun, resting her head on Doug's leg, and finally mostly over her headache. Thank God, and whoever invented aspirin and chocolate ice cream. "We need a better place to hide." she said quietly to Doug. "People keep expecting us here."
Doug nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right. I did promise dismemberment if there were interruptions. But I _like_ Doc Mactaggart. Do I have to dismember her?" He grinned.
"No. I think my headache is better enough that I can let you not dismember anyone." Angie grinned back. "Besides, I think Nathan would get upset." She moved to sit up, then decided that it wasn't worth moving yet, and shifted to put her head back down on Doug's leg. "We are in here, Dr. MacTaggart." she called back.
"O' good," Moira replied, walking through the door. "Wit' ye two bein' some o' our more quiet students, 'tis almost impossible ta locate ye sometimes." Her tone is light but she looks worried. "Scott asked me ta come check on ye, Angie. Worried tha' usin' yer powers 'urt ye or...well, in general, worried."
"Did he say which one?" Marie-Ange said, wincing. Then, she caught herself, and frowned. "I had a rather bad headache, though, most of it seems to have passed, I believe." Despite her words, the girl's face was still pale and tight, and her voice was tense, like she was forcing most of the pain -out- of it.
Doug sighed. He was still worried about Marie-Ange's condition, but he didn't think it would be right to contradict his girlfriend in front of Doctor Mactaggart, even if it was pretty obvious she was faking.
The frown on her face deepened. "Still, there's some tea in me office, I'd jus' like ta make sure ye're okay. Besides..." Her gaze flickered to Doug. "Someone was supposed t' come see me today."
Marie-Ange's eyes flickered up to look at Doug, and she frowned. "You skipped your appointment.. to make sure I was okay, didn't you?"
Doug shrugged. "It seemed a bit more important to me, love. I was worried." He glanced up at Moira. "Sorry, Doc, I was a bit preoccupied. I forgot."
"So I get two birds wit' one stone?" Moira asked, smiling at the couple in front of her. "Nay, 'tis okay, but I think it may be good if'n I see ye bot' now."
Marie-Ange frowned. "We have to get up, yes?" She was comfortable. She didn't -want- to get up. .. She knew quite well she would have to because Doug's headache had been probably as bad as hers were normally, and it was a problem, and she could always go back to being comfortable later.
"Unless ye convince Doug ta give ye a piggy back ride...aye, I believe so. Besides, me office is quiet, dark an' 'as a surprisin' amount o' tea an' chocolate..."
Doug stroked Marie-Ange's hair gently. "I'll make it up to you later, love."
Marie-Ange smiled at the idea of Doug giving anyone but Artie or Miles a piggyback ride.. "I think maybe walking would be better. I am a bit -tall- for those." She shook her head. It was really a very silly idea. Reluctantly, she sat up, and stretched. "Tea would be good. Chocolate, .. I think I may have had too much of that already."
Doug grinned. "No such animal, Angie. You can never have too much chocolate." He stood up and offered his hand to Marie-Ange.
"Then shall we? An' if either o' ye say 'Lead on, McDuff' I shall be forced int' violence."
The trio quickly made their way to Doctor MacTaggart's office, where Doug and Marie-Ange waited for Moira to precede them in.
"Right, ye two 'ave a seat on th' couch. Tea an' asprin, comin' up for ye Angie. Unfortunatly, Doug, various testin' doesnae come in different flavors."
Marie-Ange curled up on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her. "Sometimes it has a cute bowtie though." She grinned, remembering the emails from the night before.
Doug grinned. "Yes. If I have to have my own little brain machine, I get to give it a funny name and dress it up, too."
A raised eyebrow and a shake of the head was the only answer. It was obvious that Moira was trying to play off the stress of the day. Luckily, she had two willing people to take care of. "I'm jus' goin' ta run ye through some physical tests first, Doug, an' then, if needed, brin' out one o' th' machines." She went over to her desk, looking for some paperwork.
Doug wandered over to Doctor Mactaggart's desk, drawn to the fairly large rock that was holding down some papers. He looked at it curiously.
Marie-Ange blinked as Doug got up silently, and wandered over towards the desk. "Doug?" she said quietly, as he peered at what seemed to be a .. big rock. "What are you looking at?" She asked.
Doug grinned at Marie-Ange. "It's a big rock," he replied in a Cockney accent. "Can't wait to tell my friends. _They_ don't have a rock this big." He snickered at the joke, then cocked his head at the rock. Slowly, he kept turning his head, until it was nearly upside down. Finally, he reached out and flipped the rock over so it was right side up. He squinted at what appeared to be text on the side. "Um, Doc? Who's 'the dread god Cyttorak', and why should we be falling down on our faces before him?"
Blinking, Moira looked up from what she had been gathering from her desk. "Wha' are ye talkin' 'bout? Tha's jus' a...ye read those scratches?" The look on her face could only be described as confused. "Cain got it for me..." She looked at her computer and then walked around Doug. Gently, she grabbed his shoulders and steered him towards the computer. "Think ye can do a wee bit o' research, lad?" she asked, before gently plonking him down in the chair.
Doug shrugged and cracked his fingers. "Roger wilco, Doc," he replied, curiosity piqued. He began typing rapidly at the keyboard, paging through various sites based on the keyword "Cyttorak".
Finally, after a few minutes, he leaned back from the keyboard. "Here you go, Doc. The Dread God Cyttorak." The slightly mocking capitalization was evident in his voice. "The god of destruction. The unmaker of creation. Feared and worshipped by an ancient civilization in the Vietnam region. Looks like a sort of analogue to Shiva. Aaaaand..." He clicked a couple of times. "Right. There's an image of his avatar." He turned the monitor to where Doctor Mactaggart could see it.
"Wha' th' bloody 'ell is tha' doin' on me rock?" She paused. "Wha' th' bloody 'ell is tha' 'ave ta do wit' Cain?"
Marie-Ange, who had been watching from comfortable spot on the sofa, made a tiny startled -squeak- when Doug turned the monitor. She walked over to get a closer look at the screen, convinced she was seeing things. Shaking her head, she whispered in French. "That.. cannot be right. That cannot be the real one." She frowned, and touched the screen with a finger. "Doug, .. are you sure? That is the avatar of that name you said?"
Doug nodded. "That's the avatar of Cyttorak." He looked curiously at Marie-Ange. "Why?"
Marie-Ange's face grew paler, and she sighed. "I drew that." She looked over at Dr. MacTaggart. "You have copies still, yes?"
The image on the screen *looked* familiar but Moira's mind was not in the best of places currently. "Aye, in me drawer." It only took her a few seconds to locate them and she handed them over.
Marie-Ange flipped through the photocopied pages rapidly, with the ease of someone who knew her own work intimatly. She put three pages down on the desk, and pointed. "Those. I drew those on the same night. It .. ruined my entire red pastel." One picture was a red skeleton, in what appeared to be armor, eyes glowing hellishly through a domed helmet. Another was nearly identical to the picture Doug had pointed out on the website, a large muscular male figure in the same armor as the skeleton. The third was eeriely familar, the red hair and scowling face of Cain Marko atop the same armor as the first two.
"Well. *Shit*." Moira said, feelingly.
Doug blinked. "That's...hold on a second." He checked some text on the screen. "Right. The legend describes the avatar as a sort of...it translates as 'juggernaut'. That reminds me of..." He trailed off and opened a second window. Quickly typing, he brought up a site which, judging by its headers, was devoted to urban legends. "I remember there being something in here about..." he mumbled under his breath.
"Ah. There." He pointed to the screen. "A 'human juggernaut'. The picture's kind of grainy, but who does that look like to you?"
Marie-Ange blinked, nearly audibly, and coughed. "That explains a lot. I told you he worked for Sauron." She said, dryly.
"Ye know, all I ask for is a comfortable bed, a good roof over me 'ead an' Nathan. I dinnae remember askin' for lon' dead elder Gods ta show up bein' talked 'bout on me rock." Sighing, Moira looked at the two in front of her. "Can ye two compile me a report on wha' ye find an' wha' ye drew? I...dinnae know wha' Cain's reaction ta this is goin' ta be an' I'd rather I broke it to 'im."
Doug nodded. "I think we can whip something up for you, Doc." He crossed his fingers hoping she was distracted from all the tests she wanted to run, so that he could go back to snuggling with Marie-Ange.
Without missing a beat, Moira continued. "An' dinnae believe this lets ye off th' 'ook fer a wee second, me lad. I can start up th' tests while we search."
Doug sighed. He couldn't even curse feelingly in Askani and get away with it, because Doctor MacTaggart might have picked it up from contact with Nathan. He grumbled under his breath. "Right. Lead the way, Doc."
Marie-Ange rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Mr. Marko already knows that I know about the big red eye. I asked him. When I had detention." She said quietly. "He seemed a little surprised, and tried to say he was not a big red skeleton."
"Well, 'e *is* a wee bit fleshier than a skeleton, I'll give 'im tha'. But we'll see where this information leads, aye?" She smiled, relaxing a little for the first time. "Good job, ye two."
And, last, for the record - the page that Doug found - is here