Felicity turns, regarding the masked man with unseen, yet questioning eyes. There were few who needed the aid of medical professionals ( self proclaimed at that ) on the cut throat planet of Pandora, &. fewer still who actively went seeking her out. But how was she to complain when someone would wander within her fold on such a suggestion! Best not disappoint!
She turns to him with open arms &., if not for her own mask, he would have been met with a grin. It was one all too excited - be it for company or for that of a new patient or something else, no one would truly know. Either way, a patient was a patient, &. Felicity was all too happy to accept an interesting task.
Striding up to him quickly, she happily yanks at his arm as if to pull him toward a chair ( or anything to sit on in the drab little base she called home for now ). Motioning with her other hand, Felicity begins to speak, ā Of course! Creative is what I do! ā WhatĀ ācreativeā was, she didnāt say - nor did Zed from the sounds of it, ā Iāll happily help you, happy as a no born skag! Provided you arenāt scared of creative. ā It didnāt matter either way. Now that she had a patient needing something different, she wasnāt about to let him get away. ā So, give me all the details, elaborate as poetically as you can, I say! I need all of the symptoms, all of the problems! Tell me now, so I might take a peek!Ā ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Urick gives this purported doctor the benefit of the doubt and allows them to pull him along by the arm, letting out a lively chuckle in the process. "It's what you do, eh? I definitely came to the right place then!" Urick truthfully wasn't sure how 'creative' or even what kind of 'creative' Felicity was yet, but he could tell right off the bat that they were an undoubtedly exuberant person, and that was a breath of fresh air here on Pandora.
Plopping himself down in his seat, making himself as comfortable as he could be in what was likely a piece of makeshift furniture, Urick goes on to jest a bit with the stranger, "Me? Scared of creative? Not a chance! Unless you're 'Hyperion' creative, then I might start screaming like a Varkid on fire."
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Urick doesn't exactly go on to elaborate in great detail about what's wrong with him (yet), but as he talks, he unconsciously points to the area of his chest where one's heart would be, "The problems I'm having started after I had a run in with Hyperion, actually. You know that slimy, purple stuff that comes out of the Eridium mines? Slag? Let's just say they used it on me, extensively." Urick would have flat out said 'Hyperion captured and then experimented on me with slag for months' but he felt that he implied it well enough. "The slag, it altered me in a few ways that I can't begin to understand. I'm not even sure where to start if I'm being honest." Urick knew he had to start somewhere if this would-be doctor of his was going to offer any degree of help with his problems though, and so he looks up at the stranger, and poses a arguably peculiar question,
"You arenāt easily grossed out, are you?"