Arrival

Marcie would have been thoroughly interested in their conversations entailing "third legs," but she was too busy fighting Marcus for his thin sticks! Marcie was disheveled from that outburst of violence and had to adjust her grey lab coat and fix her already messy hair. Vanity wasn't high on her list of priorities. The sour attitude shifted to fascination when Kazadus lit his thin stick. How did he do that? Where was the source of his ability? Was it linked to his brain? His nervous system? Was he somehow discharging high levels of energy and manipulating the matter around him to--

Right, Smudge wanted pork. Marcie made a quick stop at a tall, grey box and opened it up. There was a pork shoulder wrapped up in paper, which she grabbed, and she closed the door with her leg.

"We get more supplies tomorrow morning!" Marcie snapped at Tom, who put his hands up in surrender.

Marcie cleared some space on the counter just as Smudge crawled up her leg and perched atop her shoulder. The scientist felt it odd to have him sitting there in range of her peripheral vision, but so long as he did not cause a fuss, she would tolerate it. The paper wrapped around the pork shoulder crinkled, but she did not remove it just yet. Her nose wrinkled, and she side-glanced to Smudge. A wound behind his head was seeping, still not scabbed over. The scent itself wasn't foul, just noticeable. 

"It would break needles?" Marcie spun to face him. Hopefully Smudge was hanging on, else he may fly off! "How? Scar tissue doesn't have that kind of--" Marcie cut herself off. Instead of grabbing a syringe to get samples, she decided to take a more hands on approach by testing the consistency of the scar tissue with her fingertips. "By Yahweh, it's very tough!" Kazadus had to put up with her manipulating his arm to check the other exposed scars, but she was gentle about it.

Marcie let his arm go and decided to get going on obtaining samples. "Right, onto procedure. Have you felt any bizarre symptoms, i.e., stuffed nose, nausea, headaches, vomiting--the lot?" She pressed two fingers against his wrist to take his pulse and stared at a watch on her free hand.