Willow's Rather Eventful Shopping Trip, and a lot of Blood.

[Suzthulhu]

<@AnE> The city of Salem was home to numerous strange and interesting individuals. Some with good intentions, some foul, but that was just how it went. Just beyond Crowley's Row, near the typical shopping areas, a young man stumbled out of an alleyway, shambling in a zombie-like state. He looked to be around twenty or so, and was clutching his stomach. Druggie? Hard to tell -- he certainly looked as though he'd seen better days, judging by the dark bags under his hazel eyes, brown hair disheveled. A few people weaved around him, muttering their disgust. He couldn't stop from vomiting over the curb, coughing and hacking wildly. He was dressed in a plaid overshirt, wifebeater and jeans, and carried a brown satchel at his side that was falling off of his shoulder.

<Suzthulhu> "I'm just going to pick up a few things for dinner tomorrow, love. I'll be home in an hour or two." Willow has parked her car along the curb near one of the shopping areas, intend on visiting a couple of the specialty stores for some different spices and whatnot to use tomorrow evening when she makes dinner. She's got her phone up to her ear, talking to Conrad, most likely. She pulls the strap of a brown suede purse over her head and across her body and nudges the door to her Prius closed with her foot. "Okay! Love you too! See you soon." Ending the call, she drops her phone in her purse and starts up the sidewalk. The sounds of people muttering and the ragged coughing catches her attention. She asks a few passerby what the deal is, but they just gesture toward the alleyway. Ever the Mama Willow, she furrows her brow and starts toward the coughing, sandals clicking softly on the sidewalk. The hem of a long brown skirt brushes her ankles, and she pulls a blue sweater more securely over a cream colored shirt. In spite of the nice weather during the day, Salem is still fairly chilly at night.

<@AnE> Hrgh. He gagged, then doubled over, clutching his stomach and crying out in pain. He began to fish around in his bag now, likely searching for a phone. His weight was resting against a nearby car, braced on his free hand. Out clattered a few things -- a notebook, camcorder and phone, the latter of which shattered as soon as it hit the pavement. "Sh...shit..." He grunted, snapping to attention at the sound of footsteps. He looked over toward Willow as she approached, "Lady--" The man called out gruffly before turning to have himself another vomit, this one marked with bright red. "Please. An ambulance. C-call..." All that vomiting was certainly making him weak, and he fell to one knee, promptly crying out in pain while a sharp series of cracks rang through the air, almost as if he'd broken his leg.

<Suzthulhu> "Oh my God. No, no, sit down! Are you alr-" But clearly, the young man is not alright. Willow can't help but make a face at the sight of blood-tinged vomit, and she rushes to the man's side, trying to catch him before he falls down. "Okay, okay, just hang in there, I'll call 911. Just sit still!" The cracking of what sounded like breaking bones makes her cry out with him, and she reaches a hand out to steady him, the other one digging in her purse for her phone. She looks around at all the other people just walking past them. "Someone, please, help me keep him still! You can't be seriously just walking by!" When she manages to pull her phone out, she unlocks the screen and dials 911, dropping to her knees on the sidewalk next to the very bad off youth. "I'm calling right now. Just hang in there. What happened to you?"

<@AnE> Trying to steady him was likely not the best idea, but it wasn't as though Willow knew! There were a few people who stopped, of course, but it was mostly just... to watch. The man tried to lean on Willow for support, but this only resulted in a second loud crack. His arm bent at a sickening ankle, bone jabbing through skin and grazing his heroine's arm as she tried to support him. Only when Willow pulled out her phone did a few others do the same -- real helpful sort they were. "D-don't kn-- hnnggh. Week... j-just gettnnngghh wors-" He tensed up, then began to seize wildly. The blood that ran from his twisted arm was so dark a red as to seem black, even under the bright street lights.

<Suzthulhu> "Shit." Willow, who so rarely swore, did so at this most appropriate time. When the 911 operator picks up, she starts firing off things like where she is, who she is, what's happening, etc. "Yeah, I'm just past Crowley's Row, on Crowe Street, right in front of the Spice Rack, that alley that coms out right there..." Crooking her neck to cradle the phone against her shoulder, she tries to assess the damage, and then -crack- again! "Ow! WHat the.. oh God!" Even with her medical training, she's in no way prepared for this. The bone grazes her arm through her sweater, and she's soon got more than a little blood on her. "Just hurry the hell up!" She drops her phone on the ground next to her, luckily not damaging it, but her main focus now is to try to stop the young man's bleeding. Hauling her purse off her shoulder, she yanks her sweater open and off, ripping one long sleeve off to wrap around the gushing arm wound. Then he starts to seize, and the only thing she can do then is try to hold him down to keep him from injuring himself even further.

<@AnE> It wouldn't be long before an ambulance would come blazing down the street of Salem! Unfortunately, the man's condition hardly seemed to be improving. Foaming at the mouth, he flailed and flailed, some more sickening cracks coming from his body -- all over, in fact. And while Willow's efforts to try and stop him from bleeding were certainly valiant, it only took one wrong crack before the man stopped moving entirely and went limp in the woman's arms. By the time the paramedics arrived, he was already dead, and quite the crowd had gathered. His body was twisted and bleeding, with shards of bone protruding from his skin and blood freely running from his wounds -- Willow had likely endured a few more scratches during the ordeal. His belongings were still on the curb nearby.

<Suzthulhu> Try as she might to both keep him from hurting himself more and from bleeding to death... it was all for naught. When he goes limp, she sobs, paying no mind to the blood, and just sort of cradles him in her lap. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry... I tried." There are cuts on her hands and arms, and even a scratch or two on her face from the man's flailing and breaking. She goes to wipe her face with the back of her sleeve and winces at the amount of blood on her arms. When the paramedics come rushing out of the ambulance, Willow releases the man and stands, looking around for some hint as to where he'd come from. Spotting his belongings, she wipes her hands on her skirt as best she can and goes to gather them up. She puts the camcorder and phone back in his satchel, along with the notebook, but takes a second or two while the EMTs scrape the guy off the sidewalk to look in his bag for anything else, like a wallet... something that would identify him.

<@AnE> They were puzzled. And once he was identified as DEAD, there was nothing but confusion. He had a wallet, but it was in his pants at the moment, probably drenched in blood. However, the notebook did have a name on it -- 'Jeremy Wilde'. Likely something for college or similar. Nobody had bothered to ask for the satchel from Willow, too concerned with gathering up the young man's body -- it was a difficult task, because moving him seemed to cause bones to break. Before they could load his body, that black blood had begun to pulse in his veins, creeping up along his skin and crystallizing noisily. Now, getting out of there before a crowd formed was top priority.

<Suzthulhu> She let the EMTs do their work, answering questions as they asked. No, she didn't know him. No, he wasn't dead when she got there. Yes, this had all just -happened- and she had been trying to save him! Since they hadn't asked her for his things, she carefully stuffs the notebook back in the satchel and puts it over her shoulder before going to pick her purse and phone up off the ground. The EMTs suddenly seemed rather in a hurry to get the body out, and she just catches sight of the pulsating, and the crackling crystalization is sickening in her ears. "What's happening?" It has yet to occur to her that the cuts and scrapes on her skin have come in contact with the man's blood. "Are... am I done...? Do I need to talk to the police or something too, or can I go get this blood off me..." So much for going to the store! Her lavender eyes are still full of tears, and her voice cracks when she speaks. WHoever this poor young man had been, he'd died horribly and in a lot of pain.

<@AnE> "The police will need you to fill out a witness report.." One of the guys nodded his head, still looking a little in-shock. You know how it is -- you've seen everything, but you haven't seen this. This was what Willow got for intervening! We can assume that the cops would come by, too -- later than the ambulance, since that's what cops do (KIDDINGmaybe). Willow would be questioned, asked to fill out some paperwork ... they'd probably reccommend she get some bloodwork done since she was cut up! But all of that could be handwaved and she'd be sent on her way once said report was filled out, likely with cards to 'YOU JUST SAW A DUDE DIE' counselling centers.
<@AnE> Because those exist, dammit.

<Suzthulhu> "Right..." She waits for the cops to finally show up, 6 hours later... (KIDDING). When they show up she answers all their questions, telling them where she'd been and why she'd been on that street, when she'd seen the young man, and everything up until the cracking crystallization sound. Bloodwork was a good idea, and she thanks them for the suggestion, since it hadn't occured to her yet. You know, seen a lot, hadn't seen this and she's likely in a bit of shock. It had been a shocking experience!! She manages to beg a blanket off the EMTs just before they skidaddle, and wraps it around herself to try to avoid getting blood all over her car. When she's finished with the police, she heads back to her car, setting both her purse and the young man's satchel down in her front seat. Hadn't there been a camcorder in there? She fishes it out and inspects it to see if it's still working. If so, she'd turn it on and see what's recorded, if anything.

<@AnE> The video camera was practically full of footage! He might have been one of those film student types, or maybe he was just a voyeur! The screen was slightly cracked, but it seemed to be in perfect working order otherwise. The most recent footage was from one week ago -- walking around Salem, interviewing people about numerous things related to the city's history. Most individuals were rather cooperative, or just plan dismissive, but near the end of the video, he chose to interview a decrepit old woman who reacted with outright hostility, shouting things about how he was a monster who ruined her life. He, of course, had no idea. Just before the camera was turned off, surges of black energy poured from her fingertips and she could be heard shrieking in ... some foreign language! Latin, maybe? Hard to tell.

<Suzthulhu> Willow watches the film quite attentively, not recognizing anyone in it. When it gets toward the end, and that final scene shows, she damn near throws the thing on the floor. What the hell was that??? Creepy. Closing the camcorder's screen, she sets it down in the seat next to her and just heads the hell home.

[Suzthulhu]

<Suzthulhu> Willow is... not doing well. The confounded itching continues in all the cuts and scrapes on her arms and face, and the pain, while manageable, means she's taking painkillers to boot. Without being able to effectively rest in a tree or in the ground to heal, she's a little worse for wear and frankly, pretty concerned right now. Unable to sit still for any length of time, she's out and about in the Sanctum, heading out of Foodcourtia with a nice steaming cup of chamomile tea, hoping it will help calm her. Dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants, sandals, and a long sweater over her bandaged arms to try and discourage her from scratching, she heads toward the lounge in the rec center with the recently deceased young man's brown satchel over one shoulder and a book tucked under her other arm. The book is on medicinal plants, and she hopes to be able to find something in it that will help. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and she looks tired and disheveled. The wounds continue to seep and refuse to close up and heal, and she's already had to change the bandages multiple times today.

<Brad> Conrad follows behind her, obviously concerned. She doesn't look well, not at all. "I think you should be resting." He says to her as he quickens his pace to come up to her side, a frown on his face. "You should check yourself back into medical." Maybe he's just a worry wart, but usually wounds like this close after a solid day of being bandaged. He wears his normal clothing, being off duty tonight, a black long-sleeve shirt, blue jeans, and black boots. He doesn't look particularly happy, but then Conrad never does. Suffice to say, he looks even less happy than he usually looks.

<Suzthulhu> "I have tried to rest. I can't. They itch too bad to let me sleep, even in a tree or in the ground." She looks back at him, lavender eyes red from lack of sleep. Shrugging, she sips gengerly from her cup of tea, mindful of the temperature. "WHat would they do for me there? Other than just sedate me, and I don't want that. It's not restful for me." Worry wart or no, she doesn't look well, and he has every right to be concerned. "Besides, there's something I want you to see." Heading into the lounge, she sets the satchel down on the sofa, her tea on the table, and has a seat, putting the book down beside her. She reaches into the satchel and pulls the camcorder out, handing it over to him. "Here, watch this. I think the young man that died was in serious trouble. Maybe... UGH!" She winces and clenches her hands into fists as another fresh bout of itching starts up. To quote Annie: The video camera was practically full of footage! He might have been one of those film student types, or maybe he was just a voyeur! The screen was slightly cracked, but it seemed to be in perfect working order otherwise. The most recent footage was from one week ago -- walking around Salem, interviewing people about numerous things related to the city's history. Most individuals were rather cooperative, or just plan dismissive, but near the end of the video, he chose to interview a decrepit old woman who reacted with outright hostility, shouting things about how he was a monster who ruined her life. He, of course, had no idea. Just before the camera was turned off, surges of black energy poured from her fingertips and she could be heard shrieking in ... some foreign language! Latin, maybe? Hard to tell.

<Brad> He frowns again at her as she speaks, but knows better by now than to try and argue the point. It pains him to see her in such obvious discomfort, though. Perhaps it's merely some allergic reaction, and will pass. He sighs, and nods as she hands over the camcorder. "What is this?" He looks down at the device, and watches the brief video feed on the viewing screen. It doesn't make a great deal of sense, but the final segment of the feed is certainly... interesting. It certainly doesn't mesh with the rest of what's been recorded, and the final shot looks fairly distressing. "Who is this woman?" He looks back over at Willow, as if expecting her to know the answer to the question. She'd told him, in great detail, what had happened to her the previous night, a man literally falling to pieces in her arms somehow. Not behavior you normally see, even in Salem. "Did you see her last night?"

<Suzthulhu> She shakes her head, sipping her tea and beginning to rock back and forth, arms crossed hard against her chest. "I don't know. No, I didn't see her. He said... something about a week, and it just kept getting worse. At least that's what I think he said. He was pretty incoherent, and then... well..." She shrugs. He knows the story. "The young man's name was Jeremy Wilde. Doesn't ring any bells... he's not one of Cobalt's. I don't even know if he was a mutant to begin with." She sips her tea again and continues to rock, brow furrowed. "These really itch, and hurt."

<Brad> He rewinds the footage, and replays it, obviously more interested in the old woman than in the name of the young man. What was she doing there, at the end? He narrows his eyes, rewinding and replaying the last bit of footage one more time, and then shuts the camcorder back down and sets it to the side. He looks back over at Willow, and his expression softens, back to one of concern. "I know it hurts." He says, a frown on his lips, wishing that there was something he could do for her. He's no doctor, though, and he wouldn't even know where to begin beyond field first aid. It doesn't look like any infection that he's ever seen, not as widespread as it is. "Are you sure they cannot do anything for you in medical? You know they are very good."

<Suzthulhu> "I know they are. But they are just as puzzled as I am. They've taken blood to test and see if there's some sort of strange infection, but other than the pain killers, they can't seem to get them to close and heal either." It's driving her nuts. She sets her tea down and yanks the sleeves of her sweater up, then begins to pull at the bandages, tearing them off along the underside of her left arm, between her wrist and her elbow. Her eyes widen in horror when she finally manages to get them off. "Conrad... something's wrong..." Holding her arm out, it's easy to see that branching out from the seeping wounds are ugly black veins. And they're spreading.

<Brad> His black eyes widen slightly, and his frown deepens. "Yes, something is wrong." He looks back up to meet her gaze, and it's obvious from his expression that he's deeply concerned by whatever is happening to her. "Willow, I really think you should go back for observation. It is not much, but it is probably better than wandering around as you are." His voice is soft, but there's a somewhat stern intonation to it. He sighs again, and looks at the satchel. "Those are his things? What else was he carrying? Needles?" Perhaps this was some new designer drug, one that interacted adversely with x-gene biology. "May I see?" He holds his hand out for the satchel.

<Suzthulhu> "You might be right..." This isn't good. Something have problem. She covers the cut up again as best she can and pulls her sleeve down. The itching seems to have been superceded by her fear for the moment. Shoving the satchel over to Conrad, she nods. "Yeah, he was carrying this with him. It's just a notebook with some school notes, and his broken phone." She takes a long gulp or two of tea. It's not helping. "I was hoping to find JJ or Jameson so they could look at it, since it broke when he dropped it."

<Brad> He nods, and opens the satchel. He retrieves the notebook, and starts leafing through it. It appears to be history notes of some kind. He scans a few pages, trying to see if there's anything in particular that stands out. Conrad is very observant, he was trained to be that way, so if there's anything out of the ordinary, he might be able to spot it. "I do not know if this is of any use." He says, tonelessly, regarding the notebook. The phone might be more useful, if one of the technopaths could get some inforamtion from it, she's correct on that. Still, something about this strikes him as very off, even moreso for this kind of thing. His mind goes back to the old woman in the footage, and whatever she was doing before the video feed was cut. Mutant? Something else? She seemed to be speaking some kind of dead tongue, perhaps Montblanc might have some insight into it, he seems versed in the more arcane side of things, if that is indeed what this is.

<Suzthulhu> Willow sighs as he finds the same thing she did in the notebook: nothing useful. "I don't know what else to do. This is... getting worse." She crosses her arms over her chest again. "So much for trying to help someone. I wonder what they did with his body after they took him away? What if there are more people like... me? Like this? We should tell someone something."

<Brad> "I do not know." He says, leafing through a few more pages in the notebook. He looks back over at Willow. "I do not know what is happening to you." He frowns, and shakes his head. He closes the notebook back up, and puts it in the satchel, along with the camcorder. "I will take this to someone, maybe there is some clue that I am missing." He sighs, and sets the satchel on the ground, and then moves over to Willow. He puts one hand on her shoulder, gingerly, and looks her in the eyes again. "Please go back to the med center. Something is wrong."

<Suzthulhu> Nodding, she sighs again, defeated. "Alright... I'll go back. I don't know what they can do, but if it will make you feel better, I will." She leans in to put her head on his shoulder. "I'll leave it to you to look into the other stuff. No sense in me running around like this if I don't have to. I just don't get it.. I feel fine otherwise." She sits up and reaches for her tea. "No fever, I don't feel sick, nothing. You'd think... I mean, I get sick just like everyone else."

<Brad> "It will be alright." He says, and then leans forward to plant a kiss on her forehead, quarantine possibility be damned. "We will figure something out, you will see." He stands again, and picks up the bag. "I will see if anyone can tell me anything about these things. We will find out what is wrong. Maybe this is just an allergy you did not know you had? It is too early to say anything for sure." He frowns again, just slightly, and lets out another sigh. "I love you, Willow. I will not let anything happen to you."

<Suzthulhu> Her frown is sad as she submits to having to spend her time in medical. "Maybe. But even so... resting would heal me, if I could do so." She stands up with him, picking up her tea and book, and starts out of the lounge. "Can you bring me some clothes from the apartment? And one of my plants... the orchid is fine. I don't like being without them." She looks up at him and offers a dimmed smile. "I love you too, Conrad." He may not have a choice in what happens to her though. "Alright, I'm going."

<Brad> "Yes." He nods, his face a bit more somber than he intends. "I will go get them and bring them to you right away." He leans forward and kisses her forehead again, then stands straight. "Try to get some rest, love." He manages a weak smile, and then heads off, satchel in hand, to go gather the items she'd requested.

<Suzthulhu> "I will..." With another heavy sigh, she watches him leave, and then takes herself back to the med center to check in. It's going to be a long night.