“ i can see it, right behind your eyes … ” the cigarette between her lips is pulled away and pressed into an ashtray and she purrs with a voice so gentle, yet so tired and rough around the edges. fingertips, toughened with callouses and dissolving stitches, press against lisbeth’s temples and tilt her head forward to get a closer look. anissa barely emotes. she just looks, and hums a simple ‘ hmmm. ’
anissa, the ripperdoc … her office has always been less than inviting. it smells of cigarette smoke and bleach, it’s dingey and has this sickening green glow to it … but in a city full of scammers, liars, biohackers, she shines like a diamond in the rough. curt, brief, nonjudgmental, with surgical precision and an almost warm smile … she hums again, and leans back in her chair. “ you’ve picked up a nasty bug, and you’re probably lucky all you’ve got is a bit of a migraine, so far … tell me, when did the symptoms start? ”