08.26.3013: Weaning
Summary: Devon is called in to help Rook as she starts to go into shock.
Date: 28 August 2013
Related: Directly follows Aftermath
Ithaca Devon Nitrim 


Nitrim's Apartments, The Blackspyre
A small two-step set of stairs lead into this recessed room that is lit by hooded, indirect lighting that casts a somber, golden glow over its mostly red and black features. Various pieces of art, both photography and moving hypervisual, line the walls. Darkly shaded marble flooring stretches out to a small seating area with a pair of sofas in front of a mounted InfoSphere videoscreen that serves as the centerpiece of the room. To the left of the entryway is a comfortable chair seated next to a table and bookshelf that rest near a wide balcony that overlooks Volkan below. Along the far right wall is a snake habitat on a raised platform tht is protected by a mostly transparent energy shield.

The rear of the room supports another small two-stair reach that leads up to a lavish bedroom setting with a draped four-post bed in black and red dressing. Lastly, a small double door off to the side of the bedding section leads to a washroom with a walk-in shower and a large soaking tub set next to a window.

August 26, 3013

There has been a medical emergency called throughout the Blackspyre. Those with medical expertise have been directed to the apartments of Nitrim Khournas. Inside those quarters is a bustle of people swarming around his bed. Closer inspection reveals a small, slight woman in said bed, unconscious, and being worked on by several members of the medical staff of the House. Her hair is brown, her skin, pale, and there are tattoos visible on her upper arms of hermetic symbols. Rook is in cardiac arrest due to Red Eye withdrawl.

"You have three seconds to get out of my way," comes Devon Grantham's firm voice as she steps into Nitrim's apartments. She is still in her gym clothes, and the slight dampness to her pale orange hair suggests she had been sweating it out in the barracks when the call came in. She had been smart enough to stop by Vic's apartments on her way to grab her gear, and when she steps into the apartments, she had expected to find Nitrim in a state. She blinks as her pale eyes fall on Rook, and she immediately starts forward as she grabs her tablet and a pair of slender, silicone circles — defibrillator patches. She immediately starts initial assessment — pulse, breathing rhythm, and pupil test.

Having been move out of the way by the staff to avoid interference, Nitrim stands in the corner wearing a shower-soaked pair of drawstring pants and no shirt. Fingertips trembling, he stands with a dark look on his eyes and a cigarette unsteadily ampules ring between his fingertips. Despondent and quietly panicking, his eyes dart to Devon as she enters. "Oh fucking thank the six…"

There is damage to the heart, but it looks like not all of it is new. Rook's vitals come across as those of a longtime drug addict, mingled with recurring malnourishment. The current heart attack appears to be from drug withdrawl. As Devon examines her, she seizes again, her whole body shaking as her eyes roll back in her head.

Devon has put Nitrim on ignore, but primarily because she is focused on Rook. She looks stern, lips held in a straight line, glass-colored eyes moving over Rook as she deftly starts to hook her up to the emergency readouts. The defib patches are applied right over her naked chest. "Pulse in 3…" She keys up the defib interface on her tablet, watching as the current is established, and the little flatline of her ECG monitor. "2… 1. Clear!" And she compresses the button on her tablet screen, sending a jolt through Rook's body.

With a friend potentially dying in his midst, Nitrim nearly turns to kick at his table, but it would cause an unnecessary distraction. Instead, he starts to pace, his shoulders twitching as the voltage is sent through Rook's body. Murmuring curses to himself under his breath, he stops to watch with a hand flattened over his forehead.

Rook's back arches off the mattress with the jolt from the device, and she stops seizing as her heart rate smooths out somewhat. Her breathing is ragged, her pulse weak and thread, and her skin clammy with shock. Sweat beads on her skin and her eyes open to slits, trying to focus on Devon's face.

"We have rhythm," Devon announces to no one in particular. She immediately starts taking system readouts — temperature, heart rate, and the like. She frowns a bit as she looks over toward Nitrim. "When was her last dose?" She asks in that knowing voice. She glances over to someone who is hanging around, not being useful, and snaps for him or her to fetch her cold towels, fresh clothes, and to prepare a bed for the woman in the infirmary.

"Last night around…two in the morning. I think." Nitrim grimaces through the words. He's been in the Spyre all night, which places her last dose in the room where he was. "She woke up and she was out. She started twitching. She was born from an addict, Devon she's been on this shit her whole life…"

Rook's head turns towards the sound of Nitrim's voice, nodding very slightly, giving him permission to tell Devon about her situation. Then her eyes slip shut again, exhausted.

"Then she shouldn't have just gone cold," Devon replies to Nitrim as she starts to peel the blankets off Rook, removing the layers of damp cloth with professional ease. "It is one thing for someone like you to cut the habit… your dependency on the drug has been limited by a variety of factors…" She frowns over at Nitrim. "We will need to get her a dose… if we don't, there's no way to properly stabilize her without putting her out."

"No," Rook rasps out with a voice that sounds like she swallowed broken glass. "No more. Want to be free," she mumbles.

"I can still get more." Nitrim says flatly, revealing something he'd rather not as he prepares to send a message. "I thought she'd be fine I…" Nitrim sighs, pressing send and turning away to speak into his earbud. "Yeah. It's me…I need you to pick me up some groceries fast. Money is no issue."

"Death is the only freedom that awaits you if I allow you to break the habit without a weaning process," Devon says, her voice soft if not a touch maternal. She glances over at Nitrim, and for the briefest moment, there is a hint of weariness in her eyes. It always comes back to Red Eye. "There are ways to legally obtain it… I don't need to go through your supplier." There is a moment's pause, and she returns her gaze to Rook's. "What's your name?" She asks quietly.

"Rook," she murmurs quietly. "Just Rook." Two people know her real name, and one of them is standing in this room. She looks pale and miserable, glancing with apologetic eyes towards Nitrim. "Keep it away from him," she implores Devon in a gravel whisper.

"My supplier is fast, Devon besides its already —" Thinking better of it, Nitrim steps away a bit to press redial, speaking to his dealer with his fingers digging into the skin at his forehead. A little clammy and pale himself, he's gritting through the worst of the moment as best he can.

"Cut it," Devon says to Nitrim in regard to his call with the supplier. "I will handle acquisition and distribution." She glances toward Rook, and she offers her a gentle smile that just barely touches her pale eyes. "The environment will remain controlled, Rook." She inclines her head. "Devon," she finally offers to the woman. She glances toward Nitrim, and then back to Rook. "I will," she promises her softly.

Rook's expression is a grateful one as Devon speaks to her. "Work," she murmurs with her brows furrowing in concern. LucCorp doesn't take absences lightly.

Severin the connection with his supplier, Nitrim lets out a loud sigh and peels the earbud from his ear. With an underhand motion, he tosses the earbud across the room and scrubs at his face. Daring to near the others, he steps across the floor to stand behind Devon. "She is…indentured, lifelong addict. If she's missing people are going to come looking for her." Nitrim offers, slipping the cigarette between his lip and folding his arms to cover his twitching fingertips. He's smart enough to turn his twitching eyelid to Devon's far side. "She's been in a lot of danger, Devon. She's a good friend of mine. What are we supposed to do?"

"Let them come," Devon says without missing a beat. "She has taken ill under the care of House Khournas and it is the duty of the House to see after its guests." Which is a backward way for the Grantham to offer the woman the security of guestright even if she had not been officially given it before. "Anyone who questions that will be questioning the honor and respect of the Paramount of the Crescent." She then looks down toward Rook, resting the flat of her hand against her forehead to provide a touch of pressure. She breathes out a slow exhale, and her eyes whiten as that angelic white aura laps up around her. Her hand becomes cold, offering the woman some equilibrium as the fever rages on. She did this for Nitrim too, once upon a time. "I will look after her, but she will be moved out of your room."

Rook lets out a sound of relief at the cold of Devon's hand, but her expression goes to a panicky place at the mention of being moved somewhere else. Her eyes flit to Nitrim as that dislike of things she can't control and doesn't know well turns to cold fear in her stomach.

Something about moved out of your room sounds suspiciously to Nitrim like this might be your fault. The man makes long eye contact with Devon before he turns and rubs at his eye socket while she distracts herself with her care for Rook. "She will have to leave eventually, Devon. I'm not saying we shouldn't care for her, we should, but she has a brother out there, too. The longer she stays away the more risk she takes when they can find her." Brushing a hand through his damp, blonde hair, he stops by the bed and reaches down for Ithaca's arm. "She's led a hard life…she deserves the chance to get free of this." Nitrim looks to Devon. "She's a part of the team."

"Rook," Devon says softly as she notes the slight panic. "You will be kept in the Blackspyre, and Nitrim will always be close to ensure that nothing happens to you." She is quiet for a moment as she considers Nitrim's words, and she breathes out a soft exhale. She glances over toward him after a moment. "You asked me what we should do to help her, Nitrim… I am giving you the answer. She needs someone who has not even tasted the effects of Red Eye looking after her and helping her with the weaning process. If you rather, I could see if the Ring could support her rehabilitation." There is a hint of impatience in her voice at the young Khourni.

Rook nods weakly at Devon's promise. "Here, not Ring," she requests. They won't look for her here. "Tired. Sleep now," she mumbles, and then her eyes clothes and she drifts into an exhausted sleep.

"No. She's safe here." Nitrim replies with a pair of furrowed brows to the blonde. "I get it, Devon. I've been through this before but not like she's going to go through. It looks like getting off of the stuff might kill her." With a squeeze to Rook's forearm, he leans up and averts his eyes from Devon as he turns to stub his cigarette out. Racked with tension, he has to walk a few steps and bury his hands behind his neck as he collects his thoughts. "Thank you, Devon, for doing this. She's gone without for a while before, when she knew I couldn't handle being around it. I think she dumped her dose last night and —" With a soft toe-kick to his sofa he turns back to Devon. "What do you need from me to help this along? I've already notified her brother. He is going to be furious."

"It will if she drops it cold," Devon explains to Nitrim, and she breathes out a bit of a sigh. "I will need to move her to the infirmary where we can closely monitor her vitals and begin the weaning process." She keeps her hand on Rook's forehead for a long moment more before she gently withdraws the palm, and starts to stand. "Be a friend," is all she says to Nitrim at his question. She frowns a bit as she looks at Rook before she speaks to someone in the room to get her a gurney to transport Ithaca safely. "She doesn't trust you around Red Eye, and that is a hard trust to earn, Nitrim."

"She's stopped me from it before." Nitrim replies with a tired, raspy voice as he rubs at his eyes once more. "She's poured it out, she's padlocked her bag, she's worked hard to keep me off of it where I —" Nitrim holds his voice, choosing his words carefully as he rubs a hand over his pale cheek. "I've been funding her to keep her safe and alive, in return she's been my eyes and ears. She's a good one, Devon. Better than I am." He frowns deeply and looks to the empty bed as Ithaca's transfer begins. He looks up suddenly to Devon, looking as if he wants to tell her something, but at sight of the others he chooses not to. "When you have time, could we speak?"

Devon watches as Rook is moved carefully from the bed to the gurney so that she can be transported to the infirmary. She is quiet for a long moment after his question, and she breathes out a steady exhale. "You always know where to find me, Little Drake," she says after a moment. She scans over him briefly before she starts to step away.

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