Wardens Chronicles

Current Campaign Date:  1/26/2008   

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The Real Johan Doyle - Stories

Post-Session: 25

A look at what happened during and/or after Session 25.

Story - The Infirmary

Game Date: 2/20/2006
Location: San Francisco, California

Who: Prime

Prime twitched his nose as he sniffed the harsh scent of antiseptic cleanser. A dull pounding filled his head with every heartbeat as he struggled to sit up and blinked gummy eyes. Lime green walls. An absurdly small TV mounted in the ceiling in the corner showing reruns of 'Dinner Impossible' with the sound turned off. And, a dozen wirey and tubey thingies stuck to his body in uncomfortable places. Yep. Must be a hospital.

Prime was considering whether to pluck off the various bits of medical gear when a middle-aged woman in a starched white nurse's uniform wheeled in a wobbly cart. Perched atop the cart was a large platter concealed by a cheap white plastic cover. In an only mildly snide and sarcastic tone of voice, the nurse announced, "Your dinner, sir. Enjoy." With that she turned and left, closing the door just a bit too loudly for Prime's aching head.

Prime tried to focus, closing his eyes and imaging his headache flowing down his body and out of his fingertips. A relaxation technique he often employed when he was tempted to start hurling around random blasts of cosmic energy. With his eyes closed, he failed to see the shimmering in the air that reached out from his fingertips to envelop the cart or the white plastic transforming into elegant silver. His head somewhat cleared, he reached over the plucked up the tarnished silver cover. Prime stared down at the platter as the small kitten sitting atop it managed to pry a plum free from its mouth and looked up at him with a plaintive meow. Prime quietly put the cover back down and pressed the 'call' button.

A few minutes later, the door cracked open as the nurse briskly strode into the room. Glaring down at Prime, she demanded, "What now, sir?"

Prime carefully cleared his voice, then, with surprising patience, "May I ask why you thought this was an appropriate repast for a superhero?" as he gestured towards the white plastic cover.

The nurse reached over and lifted the now restored white plastic cover, eyeballing the bowl of tomato soup resting atop the platter, she turning back to Prime and inquiring, "And what's wrong with it? Good nutritious soup. Just what an injured 'superhero' needs to regain his strength."

Prime stared for a moment, considering the possibilities. Then blinked. Of course. It all made sense now. "This was a merry little prank by the Wardens', was it? They thought, well, poor Prime almost fell into a great big gaping dimensional rift, so lets make him think he wound up in a dimension where folks eat live kittens for supper. Ha, ha. Quite a laugh at my expense. So. Um. You DON'T eat kittens here, right? This isn't a new anti-kitten dimension, right? Um. Right?"

The nurse merely quirked one eyebrow as she regarded Prime for a moment. "No sir. The cafeteria does not serve live kittens. In fact, as you will note, that is a bowl of soup. You can tell the difference, sir, by the distinct lack of fur and meowing. May I suggest you finish your lunch, then get some more rest? It appears that you are still recovering from that unfortunate incident in the lab." With that, she turned and left Prime with his dinner.

Prime reached over and hesitantly tapped the scum floating atop the soup with his spoon, listening carefully for any wayward meows. Something was not quite right here...

Record Last Changed Date: 6/25/2008

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