So the evening ended with surgeries. That’s always fun. Doc worked with the organic side of things, patching up Scott, which I’m sure was fascinating but entirely too….“squishy” for my tastes.
I thought I’d take apart a radio instead and see about patching it in to police broadcasts, and wouldn’t you know it but Odile had this beautiful antique looking thing that would work perfectly. It was playing some news broadcast when I popped it open…and the broadcasters started mentioning me by name. O….kaaaayyy. And then there was mention of me being hunted. O…KAAAAYYYY. Ignoring the unpleasant tingle going down my spine I reached, as if compelled, for the shiny glowing diode that seemed to be just what I’d need. And then Odile stopped me, closed the radio, and shuffled me back to the group where I absolutely wasn’t hearing sinister whisperings in my ears the entire time.
Nope. Wasn’t hearing anything. Nuh-uh. Not at all.
I steadfastly continued not hearing things until Jimmy took me back to his place to work on Ashley’s radio for better results. She seemed nice. Weirdly standoffish though; I wasn’t being THAT loud to the voices. Eventually I got her radio working like I wanted it to and promptly went to bed to pass out and dream about death. Weirdly enough, I felt better in the morning.
So tonight was Dr. Agard’s little gala and he was concerned about his safety. So Jimmy and I were put on bodyguard duty. But before we headed out, I had Doc and Scott help me with a little jiggery-pokery on my scope. The operation was a success, and it could now serve as a chimera-identifier by making any shapeshifter viewed through the lens look really, really gross. Like, spoon-gag gross.
Doc and Scott meanwhile would be keeping an eye out on Dr. Agard and check out his lab at Lasombre Laboratories while Jimmy and I got situated upstairs in the ballroom. I bet those two would have all sorts of fun discussing cancer and biology and things, but again….“squishy.”
After Jimmy and I got set up in our vantage points, the party began as all sorts of well-dressed suits, lab coats, and shoulder pads for days piled in to eat, drink, and be merry. One guest in particular really stood out: Dr. Agard’s good friend Dr. Oran, who looked like he burned his friendship bracelet long ago in a fire made out of envy and hate. Something that Dr. Agard himself seemed utterly oblivious to and had actually enhanced his own friendship bracelet with sequins and fluorescent string.
The friendship bracelets are metaphorical representations. They weren’t actually wearing anything. Bracelets, I mean. They were wearing normal clothes. For medical doctors.
Doc tried to strike up a conversation but got the brushoff until he was much more insistent (oh yeah, Doc and Scott came up with Dr. Agard), and once Oran learned who he was he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else…even more so than before. Jimmy also ingratiated himself into the conversation with his usual sledgehammer-like social graces, which finally prompted Dr. Oran to leave the festivities altogether.
Did I mention he was acting suspicious this entire time? Because he was. And now him leaving was even more suspicious.
I think he might be up to something.