[googlefont=Charmonman:400][googlefont=Open Sans:400]

[attr="class","tits"]

[attr="class","imagez"]

[attr="class","title1"]Monster

[attr="class","subtitle1"]How should I feel?
Creatures lie here
Looking through the windows

[attr="class","wordz"]
Raisa had not expected to find an epidemic when she'd exiled herself away.

Maybe she should have seen a Seer, cast some Arithmency of her own, practiced a higher-level Divination. Why had she focused more on Astronomy? Why had that been her choice? It wasn't quite that Raisa shrunk from her duties, she just really would have like a little more time to prepare, to learn the ways and spells that were done here before she was to work as a team facing a brand-new epidemic. But she was a graduate of Bayt al-Hikma, and the only one she knew in this godforsaken island who was trained there. She couldn't let her university down, especially not after how hard she'd worked to be there, to stay there.

No, she was trained, and trained well. She had studied epidemics across history, categorized them, had seen ancient the ancient bodies of victims, kept in their stasis charms and wrapped in in spells, potions, and linens. She had been a Healer for two years, she could do this. She could resist this, she could be strong, she could--

she could continue to lie, and claim she was. .  .there were only so many days she could take off the full moon. She'd claimed familial visits in the past, schedule out ahead of time, and had been careful to take other days off so that it wouldn't be noticed it was surrounding the full moon. Weariness and exhaustion could be claimed by the exhilarations of youth. Her reports from Gondēshāpūr had called her stoic, she knew, serious and focused. She'd rarely taken time off, and had never shown up late. She was sure her changed performance would be mentioned, and she would only be able to spin the yarn about the change for so long. Luckily, with the madness of the epidemic, the day-a-month she'd taken off was of little enough ntoice. 

But now things were calming down again, and Raisa's continued good health and magic was necessary. Healer Buchanan wasn't precisely her superior-- that was an older mage, Bulstrode. She still wasn't precisely sure if she was supposed to call him Lord Healer or something of the like. Her mother had certainly put on very few airs of her own, and had expected Raisa to be equally frank. There was a difference of birth, that was all. There was another between herself and Healer Bulstrode, as he was in a better position than she at the moment, for all that she'd kept her magic and he'd lost his.

There was. . .no, she was being suspicious, but it would do well to raise the thought. A Healer, trained for years and well-used to this-- he would know if there was any merit to her thought. Her shift had ended earlier than his, but waiting around was no matter. "Healer Buchanan?" she took a breath, trying to stand tall. She was a graduate of Uagadou and of Bayt al-Hikma, and she would not disgrace her schools. "I have . . . the sickness, there's something I was toying with. . ."  

[attr="class","tags1"]☆Artunakara Buchanan , 517 words, out of robes☆

[attr="class","credz1"]❤fai

[newclass=".tits"]background-color:#000;width:420px;border:1px #323232;border-style:solid;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".imagez"]max-width:120px;max-height:120px;margin-right:240px;margin-top:25px;outline:2px grey double;padding:5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".title1"]width:215px;font-family:Charmonman;border-bottom:5px double #323232;font-size:20px;text-align:center;color:#bdacd9;line-height:90%;padding-bottom:5px;margin-top:-110px;margin-left:150px;text-transform:none;[/newclass]
[newclass=".subtitle1"]width:175px;height:70px;overflow:auto;margin-top:8px;line-height:100%;padding:5px;text-align:center;font-size:12px;font-family:Open Sans;color:#bdacd9;margin-left:150px;padding-bottom:2px;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass]
[newclass=".wordz"]text-align:justify;font-family:Georgia;font-size:11px;color:#dbdbdb;padding:10px;padding-top:15px;width:400px;letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".wordz b"]color:#bdacd9;font-size:12px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".tags1"]width:400px;font-size:11px;font-family:Georgia;color:white;text-align:center;text-transform:uppercase;letter-spacing:3px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".credz1"]font-family:Oswald;text-align:right;width:420px;font-size:10px;[/newclass]

[attr="class","backgmungo"]

[attr="class","lyric1mungo"]monster

[attr="class","lyricbgmungo"]

[attr="class","lyric2mungo"]I was never one for pretenders,
Everything I tried to be,
Just wouldn't settle in

[attr="class","textbodmungo"]It had hit them all, and now it was dissipating away. Sort of. The aftermath of the epidemic was still strong as ever--as had been the intention. By most accounts, it was a success. Art would not deny that. The virus had worked perfectly. It had taken away magic, and no one had died. Admittedly, the symptoms had been a tad more severe than Art had hoped they would be--but it had worked as intended, at the end of the day. Another part of him, though, couldn't help but feel that it was anything but a success. That maybe he and Wendy had been... ill-prepared. After all, this had escalated so much from what it had first been. A thought experiment, turned into a controlled project. And then... their lives had changed. The government had changed. His children had lost friends to the muggleborn registration and Wendy had grown even more shunned by Liza and Kyle and their father. Then, the anger had gotten the best of them. Art had still pushed to have a cure on hand before they released anything, back then.

But with Wendy's disappearance, he had grown desperate. He had been brash.

Now that the dust was starting to settle and that Wendy had returned, they needed to regroup. To decide what their next steps were. Wendy especially, as well as Art, were making their own movements to impede the research going on at St. Mungo's. But his sister wanted to deepen the effects of the epidemic. Reach the immune, somehow. Art wanted to... find a cure. Because that was leverage, in case things went south for them, and he also thought it was a weapon. Having the power to give certain people magic or not others--Art felt that it could change the game, finally. That it could set things right again.

Coming clean to Titania had been the hardest part. Art had felt it early on in the process. He wasn't doing something right or good--but at least he was doing something. That was more than their Minister could say, after all. Maybe he had been brash. Maybe his sister brought out the worst in him. But at least Art had plans to move forward. And he truly believed that, if anything, the journey might be able to change things. Change opinions, even. And if not... he would have the power of a cure in his hands. And no one else's.

Art looked up from the chart in his hands at the familiar voice. One of his fellow Healers, a younger and newer one. But she was definitely bright, from what Art had seen, and her words certainly made him curious to know just what she had been looking at. The virus' combination of magical and muggle science definitely made it more evasive to the magical eye. One of its strengths. But Wendy had been actively working to impede most of the Healers' efforts. Still, it was impossible to impede someone from coming up with a theory. "Healer Shehzad," Art greeted in return, tucking the chart under his arm. "What's been on your mind?"

@ healer shehzad | 519 words | outfit - scrubs

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]
[newclass=.backgmungo]width:410px;background:url('http://www.designbolts.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Black-wood-photoshop-pattern-for-website-background.jpg');border-top:10px solid #a4e2a7;border-bottom:10px solid #a4e2a7;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyric1mungo]color:#a4e2a7;text:2px 0px #a4e2a7,0px 2px #a4e2a7,0px -2px #a4e2a7,-2px 0px #a4e2a7;font:30px Dancing Script;font-weight:bold;margin-bottom:-20px; text-align: left;text-transform:lowercase;margin-left:23px;padding-top:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyric2mungo]font:9px Verdana;line-height:9px;text-align:justify;color:#e6e6e6;text-transform:uppercase;float:left;margin-top:-8px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyricbgmungo]padding:20px;background:#262626;margin-left:20px;border-bottom:2px #a4e2a7 solid;[/newclass]
[newclass=.textbodmungo]width:300px;font:10px Verdana;text-align:justify;padding:20px;background:#262626;color:#e6e6e6;line-height:14px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);[/newclass]

[googlefont=Charmonman:400][googlefont=Open Sans:400]

[attr="class","tits"]

[attr="class","imagez"]

[attr="class","title1"]Monster

[attr="class","subtitle1"]How should I feel?
Creatures lie here
Looking through the windows

[attr="class","wordz"]
"I might very well be very wrong, or surely this is something you have already considered and likely disproved." Raisa took a breath, keeping her hands flat. She wished she was covered more suddenly-- she always felt more confident with her hair covered, but she'd foregone it today. Maybe she shouldn't have, because she really felt like she could have used it. No, best she didn't. More preparation for later, after all. It was always so easy to lapse when alone.

"But this. . .this Epidemic X, it does remind me of the Lavender Pox in Persia." Her eyes flicked around, trying to find if there was recognition of it. Six hundred years back, a local healer of some renown in Dezful had attempted to make a potion to help bring women to the ideal stature. It had failed miserably, and rather than disposing of the experiments properly, the healer had stuffed the potions in their walls, hoping that would be the end of that. Rather than succeeding, however, the vials had over time cracked, the solutions leaking out and mixing with the nearby well. Thankfully the well had been well-made and well-warded, so the potions did not leak through sand and stone, but whenever mages came for healing, they drank the water and became ill themselves.

Lavender pustules had swelled to the surface and burst, victims had shit and pissed themselves, insatiable appetites had developed, and patients had sickened and died after days of fevered raving. There was no clear link as to what the cause was for weeks, as water was shared often enough between travelers, and yet, the only ones who sickened were mages or lived with mages. Once enough sages had put their heads together to find the link in the healer's home, the well had been destroyed, only for the poison to travel and continue to infect local mages. It had taken cursed fires-- the name was FiendFyre here, was it not?-- to burn the water clean.

Present your case. Defend it. "The Lavender Pox, was, after all, mysterious and mostly impacted mages, though that was merely coincidental, thanks to how it infected others as that was but it clung to fever and diarrhea. I have not heard of a . . a Muggle becoming ill with this, though there are mages who wed them. Nor has there been. . ." she paused, trying to make the word seem natural, but the hitch in the word could be interpreted as accent, or as prejudice, "werewolves. I would think then, to check other magical creatures, as Veela blood seems to outlast those of mere mages, but they all live together, no? Werewolves with others or so I have heard, and there are few enough full Veelas, and it is not often they live with mages. Still, to my knowledge-- certainly not so much as yours!-- it has only struck those of magical blood, who has magic themselves."

She was getting off-track. "But it clung to certain symptoms that seemed to shape was was going on, as this epidemic clings to the fever, enough so that we have noticed the pattern and became accustomed to it. It is always the fever first, and then the magic fades by a month. What if this sickness was created to defeat, say, the usual flu once and for all, yet the two combined in this cruel way?"

Patient Sefr worked here, she almost said. Near-all of us Healers were struck down by the third day. After all, with no university to lean on, where else might experiments be made other than the hospital itself? Zero might have stumbled upon someone's work and thus it broke out, much as the first victim brought water from the Healer's to partner and children. Not, of course, that Epidemic X Patient Zero would have taken such a dramatic role as the Lavender Pox Patient Zero. If her thought was correct, then they would have all sickened soon enough anyway. Still, if she was correct, then perhaps a cure might be more easily found.

[attr="class","tags1"]☆Healer Artunakara Buchanan , 677 words, out of robes☆

[attr="class","credz1"]❤fai

[newclass=".tits"]background-color:#000;width:420px;border:1px #323232;border-style:solid;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".imagez"]max-width:120px;max-height:120px;margin-right:240px;margin-top:25px;outline:2px grey double;padding:5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".title1"]width:215px;font-family:Charmonman;border-bottom:5px double #323232;font-size:20px;text-align:center;color:#bdacd9;line-height:90%;padding-bottom:5px;margin-top:-110px;margin-left:150px;text-transform:none;[/newclass]
[newclass=".subtitle1"]width:175px;height:70px;overflow:auto;margin-top:8px;line-height:100%;padding:5px;text-align:center;font-size:12px;font-family:Open Sans;color:#bdacd9;margin-left:150px;padding-bottom:2px;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass]
[newclass=".wordz"]text-align:justify;font-family:Georgia;font-size:11px;color:#dbdbdb;padding:10px;padding-top:15px;width:400px;letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".wordz b"]color:#bdacd9;font-size:12px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".tags1"]width:400px;font-size:11px;font-family:Georgia;color:white;text-align:center;text-transform:uppercase;letter-spacing:3px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".credz1"]font-family:Oswald;text-align:right;width:420px;font-size:10px;[/newclass]