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Medical Maladies (IC)


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Agnes managed to answer Jubatus’s question just before the entered the office.

“I’m not sure I’ve never tries, let’s hope we never have to find out.â€

She listened to Dr Highflower and even gave a little smile, it was nice now and again to get a little a respect and she just wished they had the time to enjoy the complement fully.

“Unfortunately it may have gone beyond just a theoretical idea and people lives are seriously in jeopardy. If it helps I can give you a rundown of all the patients I’ve seen, though it was a pretty mixed bag.â€

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Warren slowly climbed to his feet, keeping well away from Silvia. "Um. I, I, I started a website called that, yeah. I was in the high school, and really angry about... about some things at the time." He walked behind his desk and righted his chair, then sank into it. "I was just a stupid kid, you know? I mean it's on Geocities, for Christ's sake. The only reason I keep it up is because of the forums. I made some friends there, and it's the only place we have to hang out. Like our own private club house, you know?" He picked up a pen and fidgeted with it absently. "I don't know anything about a, a disease in the city! It's not serious, is it?" His eyes started filling. "When that Proteus stuff got released, I was turned into a shadow under my desk. I was afraid to call anyone, because what if the light from my cellphone killed me?"


Dr. Highfollow blinked at the information. "Wait. You think someone actually made my meta-virus? And released it, in Freedom City? Wow, that would be... wow." He blinked. "Very, very bad indeed. But... but it's just a theory! That all virus evolved from one ancestor, so if we could identify that ancestor and study it for a weakness that survived to the modern era..." He shook himself out of lecture mode and back to the matter at hand. "I'm not really sure what you would need to create it. Gene-modifying equipment, of course, and a good viral history. But if that's why you wanted to know, why did you come all the way up here? Why not talk to that bright young man at FCU, Vincent what's-his-name?"

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King of Suits leaned back n the chair, eyes narrowing at this revelation. "So...you are saying you have no actual ties to the doings of this Cult? They're just friends of yours? Well in that case" he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table "I will need to ask you who they are. We suspect they(or possibly associates of theirs) have sincerely adopted the belief that viruses are the true masters of this planet, and are using this particular illness to impress that upon the people of this city. The illness is a deadly conglomerate of several sicknesses; most of them thought eradicated, I might add, so you can imagine why that might cause a few problems"

That said, he took a more neutral stance, watching Warren with care. This sounded entirely plausible, but it was also likely that Stills was just trying to save himself.

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As this exchange goes on, Silvia waves one of her crew over who was watching from the ship. The girl's just a swabby, but she isn't needed for anything important. "Please go see if Lord Giles has a cup of tea to spare, Miss Vanessa."

With a nod and a, "Yes'm," the girl darts off for the ship as Silvia gets more comfortable in her seat.

"And tell Mister Bosque to make sure the cannons are ready," she adds from across the room before Miss Vanessa can leave. She offers Mister Stils a smile, looking quite serene and unhinged.

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Agnes gave one of her full megawatt smiles and turned on the charm. She was a little out of practice but she still knew how to charm people when she put her mind to it.

“If we wanted the second best we’d have stayed in Freedom City. But we wanted the best man in the field so we came all the way to Boston, to you Dr Highfollow.â€

She filed the name away, or at least what he’d gave them, in case he could be useful or was important to the case.

“So this Archaevirus how would you go about curing it? And with some speed as well, we don’t have the luxury of time…â€

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"There.... there was this one guy, a few months ago," Warren said, calming down somewhat. "Said he was a student at Freedom City University. He said he was doing a report on cults and stuff, had a lot of questions. We weren't really very nice to him, kind of drove him off. If you'll wait a second, I'll see if I can find his IP address." He turned to his computer and began navigating through the web browser to the proper page. "Ah, here we go. Tory Vetto. Does that help?"


Highfollower scratched at his nose as he considered the idea. "I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. It was all very theoretical work. I'd have to look at the actual bug itself before I could really venture an opinion." He smiled at the two, though rather more brightly at Young Britannia. "Really, I was surprised when young Vincent called me! I didn't expect anyone to really care about my work enough to expand on it."

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"Tory Vetto?" echoed the King of Suits, who was scribbling this new factor into a slim book with red-lined pages "An odd name. But yes," he said with god cheer, closing the narrow book with a snap, depositing it in one of the myriad pockets of his belt "the name is a great help. I wish Voltage was here," he muttered as he got to his feet "he'd be able to find our man in seconds with that electro-brain or whatever it is he's got. Now then, all we need is to go meet him, ask him about this sorry business, and find out what we can" he turned back to Warren "If you find any further information that would be helpful, don't hesitate to" Oh right! No communicators... "speak into this" he concluded, placing a small flattened metal device on his desk, clicking a small bar on one side to show how it was activated and deactivated. "I will be able to pick it up what you say into it. A bon day to you, Mr. Stills" he added as he moved towards the window and its gangplank, "you have been a great help to us!" He waved captain Silvia ahead of himself, wondering if there was a specific protocol to getting on a space-galleon.

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King of Suits finishes right as the Vanessa returns with the tea, and Silvia promptly waves her aboard the ship. Plenty of space for tea over there. She cuts ahead, simply walking aboard, and her young crew member follows without any special protocol.

"Take us to Freedom City University," she announces once everyone is safely on board, then sips some tea as the ship lurches upward, just getting some distance from the building. "We shall consult the student registry for further information on this Mister Vetto."

She doesn't seem particularly hesitant to make this decree without any input.

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“If we wanted the second best we’d have stayed in Freedom City. But we wanted the best man in the field so we came all the way to Boston, to you Dr Highfollower.â€
Jubatus nodded. "What she said."

He smiled at the two, though rather more brightly at Young Britannia. "Really, I was surprised when young Vincent called me! I didn't expect anyone to really care about my work enough to expand on it."
"That's the thing about pure research: It has a way of being applicable to real problems and issues. Now, if I understand you, building this bug would require reconstructing the DNA of the ur-virus, the ell-you-see-ay from which all contemporary viruses are descended, right?" Highfollower nodded. "Okay. And that would require, I don't know, taking mass quantities of sequenced viral genomes and running them all through BLAST, for starters..?" Jubatus was fairly certain that his question was elementary, to a person of Highfollower's level of biological expertise; that was alright. With any luck, he'd just triggered the doctor's 'educator reflexes', and Highfollower would expound further, in great (and useful!) detail, on the specifics of How To Build A Meta-Virus.
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As Jubatus laid out all the technical detail she played back over what was just said, something was praying on her mind “Wait back up a minute. You had someone else was asking you about this Meta-Virus? And someone from Freedom City to boot!â€

She rattle around in her bag, which she summoned back from where ever her stuff when she sent her stuff away, and pulled out the Communicator Jubatus had given her.

“Hey guys do you have a chance to swing by the University?†she on the communicator “We might need to speak to someone there a Vincent… what was his full name Doctor Highflower?â€

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"Ah, well, give me one moment." Highfollower turned to his computer and worked there for a minute. He brought up the email and scanned it quickly, reading off information. "Okay, here we go. Vincent MacBride, Freedom City University. Undergrad, double-major of biochemistry and virology. Seemed very interested in my work, and quite knowledgeable." He turned back to the heroes. "I can't imagine that he would be doing something wrong. He seemed quite, well, quite eager to learn, but very nice!"


Back in Freedom City, the Ages Lost floated over the city, serenely cutting through the clouds and making a spectacle for a city that lived on such. King of Suits was able to make a hurried call to the records department, which saved it from another dramatic entrance from Strombreaker. Instead they descended upon a block of student housing on the southernmost tip of the campus. The pair hurried through hallways until they came upon the correct room. Inside there was the usual clutter of young people who are living outside their home for the first time, exacerbated by a young man running, positively sprinting, from room to room. A hard-sided suitcase sat before the door, coincidentally at the heroes' feet as they entered. The inhabitant didn't seem to notice them until he ran up, arms loaded with clean and not-so-clean clothes; before he could dump them inside the luggage, he skidded to a halt as he took in the pair of heroes. He face paled even further as he backed up from them, letting the laundry fall to the ground. "W-w-w-w-w-what can I h-h-h-h-help you with, superheroes," he asked, trying and failing to bring off an air of nonchalance.

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Silvia strides confidently through the campus, stopping only to demand directions from a passing skateboarder who conveniently faceplanting right next to her. After that, she marches on her way like she owns the place.

Upon reaching the room in question, she looks the young man up and down, seeming to soak up his fear. "Good afternoon, Mister Vetto. We should like a word with you, and this display," she gestures to the man... boy, really, and his packing, "You have already told us you know why, so I suggest you talk. Otherwise, this meeting may need to become... 'interesting.'" She lets the word hang and offers the man a toothy grin. A bright, full mouth of teeth bar one that looks like it was cut out roughly with a saw.

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The King of Suits kept in step with Stormbreaker without trouble on his long legs, but having to wind around the people displaced by the captain made things a little slower for him, not to mention cleaning and treating the scrapes on the unfortunate skateboarder. Glancing at Silvia with a look of slight exasperation he shrugged and said to Tory.

"Mr. Vetto(if that is who you are), please tell us everything you can about the Cult of the Dripping Pox, and allow me to relieve you of that" he pointed at the suitcase "which must be quite cumbersome, and likely to cause harm to certain people" he added meaningfully with a narrowing of his blue eyes behind the cowl.

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The young man stared at Stormbreaker and King of Suits for a moment, then barked out a laugh. "Vetto? No no, Tory's my roomie! He's, uh, I think he's out at his job. He's a bartender, down in Riverside. Here, wait a sec." The young man fumbled in his pockets and came up with a matchbook with the name of a club on it; 'The Drunken Mule,' showing a donkey walking on two legs, a bottle in one hand. On the flip side was an address near the docks. "My name's Vincent MacBride. I'm just, uh, going to visit some family out of town! You know?"

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This... may just be the most transparent lie Silvia has ever heard. Either he is, in fact, the roommate, who conveniently happens to be rushing like all Hell is about to break loose to get out of town, or he's Tory Vetto and a horrible liar. Either way, he obviously knows more than he's saying.

But first, time to figure out which it is. She grabs the man by the scruff of his neck and orders him, "Don't say a word." She drags him outside to the housing area proper and shouts loud and clear, "WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME THIS MAN'S NAME?"

She seems to have forgotten that most humans in this part of the planet carry identification, but that could be faked anyways.

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"My name's Vincent MacBride. I'm just, uh, going to visit some family out of town! You know?"

"You are indeed? Well, I can understand the rush, but you must know that it looks a little suspicious to us if you're hurrying during an outbreak like this" Marceau smiled kindly at the younger man, approaching him and offering his hand "I am the King of Suits, this grand l-" he was interrupted by Stormbreaker grabbing the man by the neck, commanding him to be silent, and hauling him out of the room in a rush of displaced air. Staring at the place where Vincent was a second ago, Marceau bit back a furious curse and raced after her, thinking This is getting IMPOSSIBLE!

He leaped to her side just after she delivered her thunderous question to the campus at large. Slamming the palm of his left hand against his face he growled "Why was this your first idea, Captain? All we had to do was just ask one of the faculty about a Vincent McBride living in this dormitory, and we would know for sure" removing his hand from his head he continued wearily "But this way is faster, and more prone to confusion."

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Silvia isn't particularly off-put by the outburst. She merely scoffs- something she's very good at- and rebuts, "Speed is our priority at the moment. And you must have a rather low opinion of your fellow Earthlings; is your kind really so easily baffled that asking a man's name would sow confusion?"

She's quite calm through all of this, addressing her fellow investigator's points as a matter of courtesy. Her grasp on their latest lead is no less rough for the distraction. Can't risk a potential perp getting away, after all.

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"It is not so much the 'asking the name' as the 'asking it very loudly while holding him' part" the King of Suits explained in a low voice, with a trace of irritation "If they know who he is, and think he's in trouble(which, I guess, he is), they may try and disavow knowledge of him, to keep from being suspected of being in league with him somehow" he looked around at the students in the hall "besides, he might be recognized as some he isn't, or a friendless lad nobody knows even by reputation. That isn't impossible, even in such close quarters and with such a low population as this planet has" he added, wondering vaguely how many people must live on other inhabited worlds. "I...might have some personal experience with such situations" he said awkwardly.

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A few dazed and scared-looking faces poked out of their dorms at Silvia holds the undergraduate aloft. "That's Vinny," a woman said. "Vinny, what's going on? Should we call the cops?"

Vincent, for his part, seemed more interested in just getting away from the pirate. "See, I told you! Tory isn't here, he's at work. I already gave you the address, dammit, now let go of me!"

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Silvia offers her companion a look. She doesn't say it, but it conveys all it needs to; her way worked. "Thank you, Miss," she says to the helpful stranger. "That will be all.

"Well, then, Mister McBride. It seems you have become caught up in matters larger than yourself. Your roommate is caught up in some dangerous business, which may spill over to those close to you. For your own protection, and the protection should these events come to your home, I'm afraid we must take you into protective custody." Her delivery is flat, matter-of-fact, with little concern as to whether he believes her or not. Nor does she care if he'll believe her when she says his stay in the brig is to protect him from any accidents involving the ship's advanced technology.

"King of Suits. Please retrieve Mister McBride's belongings, and ensure his room is properly secured, then return to the ship. Oh yes, and Mister McBride, where do you keep your cellular phone? I am sure you shall want to call your family."

With that, she sets off, carrying the man to her vessel.

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Marceau hoped Stormbreaker would be more graceful in victory than Aloysius was She isn't-yes, yes she did he thought wearily as he saw the all-too familiar look on her face I think that's the 700th time or so I've seena look like that. Where did my life go wr-OH WAIT I KNOW WHERE. Contorting his own face into an expression of helpless anger for the sake of form when she looked for it, he waved discreetly to the young woman who had resolved the issue, flashing a genuine smile at her when Silvia's back was turned.

When Stormbreaker told him to get Vincent's luggage and secure his room, he shrugged "Alright, but only because he's hiding something. One moment" so saying, he leaped back into the room, grabbed the suitcase, closed it, and did what he could on such short notice to secure the room, sealing dresses and closets, putting everything he could under wraps.

Rejoining the captain he fell in step, mentally checking off what he would need to ask Vincent about, being very careful to keep from jostling the suitcase more than he could avoid.

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Like the vast majority of all other scientists, Highfollower proved to be more than happy to talk about his work to anyone who might be able to appreciate it; Jubatus had asked in hopes of gaining some information that was relevant to the question of Who Made The Meta-Virus. Unfortunately, Highfollower really had done nothing more than speculate about the possibility of a meta-virus, and so his words, however fascinating they were to Jubatus, were basically irrevelant to the case that the cheetah and Young Britannia were investigating. At least we've got some assurance that Highfollower himself isn't involved, Jube told himself. And now we do have a lead, namely, Vincent MacBride at FCU.

"…parity of the amino acid moieties," the academician said, finishing up his impromptu information-dense mini-lecture on theoretical bioengineering.

"Interesting," Jubatus replied. "I think we've heard all we need to, Dr. Highfollower. Once all the mysteries are solved, I'm going to make a point of keeping you in the loop." To Young Britannia: "Let's regroup back at FCU; I want to check with the registrar about Vincent MacBride." Returning his attention to Highfollower: "Good-bye, sir, and thank you very much for being so generous with your time." And with that, Jubatus upshifted and was blurring down the highway back to Freedom City…

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Jubatus and Young Britannia had learned a bit in their trip to Boston, but now they were returning to Freedom City to put this information to use. The pair rendezvoused at the Freedom City University campus, where they could already see the Ages Lost hovering in the sky. They couldn't possibly know what Strombreaker and King of Suits were doing here, but they had other priorities. They had to find Vincent MacBride, and discover what he was doing!

Aboard the ship, the pair of superheroes made sure to keep an eye on Vincent while ordering the crew to cast off and set sail for the Drunken Mule.

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Before heading off, the ship picks up Jubatus and Young Britania, and shares information. Particularly, that of her 'guest,' Vincent MacBride. "We were looking for his roommate," Silvia explains, "And found him instead. He wasn't eager to share information, and was quick to try and get rid of us. He did, however, give us either a lead on his partner-" a presumptuous term, but Silvia had already decided he was involved. "-or bait for a trap. Be ready. If you wish to question the man for yourself, Miss Vanessa shall show you to the brig." She gestures to her young aide.

The captain, herself, starts issuing orders for the ship to head to Riverside, for this 'The Drunken Mule.' Surely an establishment of both class and charm.

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Once Vincent was aboard, the King of Suits sent word to the faculty about their suspicions of the student Vincent McBride, and that he had been taken along to assist in the investigation of the mysterious plague.

The message given, he went down to the lower decks that seemed quite similar to the brig recreation he had seen as a child at a museum. Finding the reinforced room Vincent had been taken into, he said the multi-headed(and very orange and hulking) guard "I need to ask the man inside a few questions, I won't be long." With a surly nod, the jail-guard tapped a button that caused the heavy door to shimmer, deactivating the forcefield around it before unlocking the cell and ushering the costumed vigilante in, slamming it shut behind him almost before Marceau rescued his long cape. Checking the hem briefly before letting the garment swirl back around him, he turned to face Vincent. Turning to the younger man on the long bench, he began.

"Vincent McBride, I have come to ask you a few questions, and once I have my answers I will leave you be." Wandering over to one of the walls he leaned against it and went on "You have helped bring terror, panic and likely death to people in this city. The word that will be used to describe what you and your friend Tory have done will hound you to the rest of your days if this is not stopped before lives are claimed by the plague. To the end of your days, you will be seen as this, and all the goodwill you have gained will crumble to dust. So you will answer what I ask," he concluded, rounding on Vincent with a fire in his cold blue eyes "or else the life you will live shall be tainted forever! Where did you and Tory get the equipment and materials needed for this? What do you know about the Cult of the Dripping Pox? Who else is behind this scourge?!" he stood over the university student like a towering statue, face grim and remorseless in purpose, belying the furious anger in his voice.

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