Déjá Vu ((closed Rp-Nuscian, Violet and Tristram))

It is late, though the city rarely truly, slept there was some lull in the number of patients and or colleagues towards the late evenings. Nestled within the GTC medical bay suit, a soft aria softs about the bay plays from one of the medical interface computers.. Violet as usual prowls about the medical bay, she was quite protective it seemed. He chuckled lightly, he had spent enough time in her company to know that in truth this ran far deeper. Strangely, it was a trait they both shared, they became bored easily. Though perhaps Violet more so, she did have something of a child’s demeanour. It made her a delightful specimen, the cold merciless creature with the mind of a child. Truly fascinating! But alas such times like these one could easily slip into boredom. Mandrayk ran the usual checks upon his personal haunt and Violet crept about the medical bay. Without any given tasks and when not practicing her skill she did so insist upon being with a distance of him at all times. Though in truth, he had grown used to the companionship of sorts.

However the usually peacefulness but alas tedious boredom had been shattered by the grand entrance of one Tristram Kell. Well grand was not the proper phrase; horizontal would be more fitting under the circumstances. He was soon stripped of his armour and quickly assessed. A male Rattataki, standing at 6’4 tall, current state: blaster shot to upper right torso, glancing blaster shot to lower left torso, numerous burns, scrapes and bruises and a small concussion. All which had already been treated naturally, as now Tritsram covered in various bandages. A fine specimen of his kind, a warrior. Bounty hunter no doubt, though the equipment was somewhat of clue, the mentality of the species did mean they converged on such profession. He was a new face about here. Well it was about time they met he purposed, would be a welcome change of pace. As he approaches the light hanging over the unconscious Tristram flares into life, illuminating Mandrayk’s various tools of trade and the patient in question. Standing in his stark white medical uniform, his hands hover over the various implements finally clasping a small injector and a vial of blue liquid. Leaning over is places it to his patients neck and injects a small amount of stimulant. He awaits for a signs of consciousness, small grin spreads across his face, revealing his mouth of sharp pointed teeth. Maybe this would prove a bit more interesting.

“Welcome, Mr Kell.”

The first thing that greeted Tristram upon regaining consciousness was the smell of burnt flesh. Almost every part of his body ached, particularly his upper body which burned as if it were on fire. An aria reached his ears from somewhere, the sublime female vocals crescendoing into the climax of the piece, lending an almost sacred air to the situation.

Where the hell am I?

Tristram slowly opened his eyes, his vision was immediately assaulted by blinding white light. Everything swam nauseatingly in and out of focus, beginning to clarify slowly as his mind reached its usual operational state. Everything was white...the sterile walls that lined the room, the light that hung above him, the bandages wrapped around his body. For a second, he entertained the thought that he'd died in combat. And let out a small chuckle.

No, I'm in too much pain to be dead. And all this blinding whiteness would mean I've been sent to the wrong afterlife. Clerical error on the part of whoever's upstairs

As a man's voice rose above the aria, Tristram turned his head to discover the hem of a doctor's coat next to his head. He raised his gaze to study the man's face. Long white hair was drawn back and tied out of the way. His pale milky eyes unmistakably characterised him as an Arcanian. His teeth were sharpened to points, giving his grin an almost shark-like quality that was decidedly unpleasant. This was all set in a face with strong, aquiline features, that was strangely familiar. Vision swimming into focus, Tristram squinted as he tried to place the odd familiarity.

No... It can't be

Rising from the table in a fluid surge of power, Tristram grabbed the man by the neck - ignoring the fresh surges of pain that shot through his body. He extended his arm to lift the Arcanian off the floor, causing the man's feet to dangle in the air. Despite the clear discomfort, the doctor seemed to maintain an impressive amount of composure, only serving to infuriate the bounty hunter further.

"You! How are you still alive?"