#anywhere

D'Lorean has dressed rather modestly for the visit to the hospital in Water town

"Place actually looked nice online" She says to Bluebell. She's nervous. This is not her jam, but a knight is sworn to valor

And joust Club never says die

Bluebell - well, Mrs. Bindhi Georgiou - or whatever name she has chosen to go by today- fusses with her hair, patting already her perfectly neat bun as Dee pulls into the visitor's parking lot at the Samaritan Medical Center.

"Hmm. It's clean, well organized... I like the little trees in the medians." Clearly just looking at the parking lot. As she gets out of the car and offers an arm to Dee. "M'lady."

"Call me Trina..." A smirk "Figured it might get me a way in? Or should I go with Lori?"

"Lori is lovely, because Trina only gets to the door until her dad doesn't recognize you." A soft giggle. "A lorikeet is a pretty little bird, can you sing a song to match the tune I'll peddle?"

"Lori it is," Not sure if that was the answer but ggoing with it and they head towards the hospital

They head in. Bluebell sneaks a hand into Dee's, holding with fingers interlaced.

As Bluebell squeezes, Dee feels a flicker of glamour, a very light brush, and when they walk through the glass doors, she catches a glimpse of their reflection in the window - Dee's hair is several shades darker and longer than usual, and Bluebell's skin is a bit lighter, and she's put on a few pounds - but one has to squint to recognize her delicate dancer's form under the 'padding' of the now heftier woman.

The slightly altered duo proceeds, and they find a rather tired looking matron at the front reception. "Can I help you?" This early in the day, it might still be the night shift.

Bluebell speaks up. "Yes, hi! I'm Betty White, and this is my wife, Lori Loughlin. We're here for a tour of the maternity ward."

"Just wanting to check it out, you know?" 'Lori' feigns shy nervous energy. Not entirely a feint but looking more personal

"Mmm hmm." The reception lady punches a few buttons, and tags that say VISITOR are spat from the printer. "Wear these while you're on the property, and masks once you pass through the hallway into the ward proper. Wait at the main desk, and one of the nurse coordinators will be with you. You're early, it may be a wait."

Bluebell beams and reassures, "No worries, we're just so excited to see the facilities." Putting on one of the stickers and motioning for Dee to do the same.

Dee does with a vapid smile "Heard good things"

"By the way, I just wanted to ask. Is it normal for there to be a pickup truck parked in front of the emergency room doors?" Blinking innocently, her gaze trailing towards the doors.

"Why - no. Gosh darnit..." The lady grumbles, hefting herself out of her chair and, "Down the hall to your left." As she moves out the front door.

Bluebell leans across the desk and plucks a namebadge from the sweater that is on the back of the chair. Her sticker is dropped in the trash, and now she affixes the badge that says 'Marla'. She hops up and down three times... and then Dee is holding hands with who looks rather like the woman who just walked out.

"Hurry now, she'll be back in two shakes of my missing tail." Bluebell, now wearing the face of the nurse at reception, starts walking quickly down the hall. "It's time for our TOUR!"

"I see why our friend suggested you" And the satyress keeps up looking about for any signs of Thistle's family

"Now, of course, you know all my secrets. I am afraid you must die, Mister Bond." As they walk down the hallway - they get a few glances, but 'Marla's' presence deflects most curiosity. Not that there was much - everyone is busy, and as they aren't causing trouble, they are overlooked.

They reach a directional sign - they can head to the main nurse's desk, or to the labor and delivery wing, or the recovery wing with private rooms - there's also a small church chapel, and down that way is the cafeteria. Bluebell considers, then looks to Dee for direction.

The atmosphere is... neutral. It's not warm with glamour, nor especially cold. Business like, at least in this hallway.

"By now she should be in the recovery rooms right? " A guess but she motions that way

Bluebell follows her lead, and the head down that way. They pass a couple who is standing outside of what appears to be the nursery! Lines of little cots set up almost as if on display in a department store window, with little raisin-faced infants carefully swaddled and labeled.

The pooka pauses, her nose twitching in a way that Marla's probably could not, and hesitates to look at the wee ones. "So ugly." She murmurs, getting a glare from the couple.

"She's a master of positive sarcasm" Lori adds

"Hmmph." The mom says, and the dad says, "That's my boy, isn't he the most perfect thing you've ever seen?" Pointing to raisin number 4 on the left, with a blue tag around his chubby little wrist.

"He's adorable. I hear this place does good work too. I have a friend who is here now in fact, " She names the step mother and Trina's father (Which the player has utterly forgotten thier names but I'm assuming she remembers)

When Dee mentions Janice and Greg Smith, the response is...

"Oh. Oh." The mom starts to tear up, and dad puts an arm around her. "We're so sorry." He murmurs, as he leads his emotional wife away.

Bluebell's eyes widen in alarm.

"Wait, please... what's going with Janice and Greg?" She wheedles, almost begs

"No, I'm sorry. She's... new mom, you know." He shakes his head firmly, and protectively removes his emotional wife out of the conversation.

"Check at the chapel." He offers, before closing the door to the room with the couple's name on it.

H. Henderson, on the chart in the little folder outside the door. Looks like all the occupied patient rooms are marked similarly.

She looks over the babies, for any with the name SMITH... Mind you, that's hardly a rare name

If she doesn't see one, she'll go right to the chapel

The row of babies are all carefully labeled. The tags are wrapped around wrists in plastic that cannot be easily removed, and there is a similar small device attached to each little ankle, like a little criminal baby tracker.

SAUNDERS, K
YANCY, W
HENDERSON, G
OSTERMEIER, J
POTTER, H
SANDERS, C
KLEIN, A
GREGORI, U
MOHAMMAD, A

There are many rooms... or the Chapel is down the hall, according to signs.

"Oh god" Worried now . Then to the chapel she goes, down the hallway. A look at Bluebell "This is bad"

Bluebell is wringing her hands, and follows.

The chapel is more of a 'room' than a church, but the lights are dimmed and the sounds of the hospital, the bustle and chatter, and beeps are all muffled. There is a small altar at the front of the room and candles that can be lit, padded seats and benches, and the Good Book for those who may turn to prayer in times of worry or sorrow. Several good books, in fact, the room is, while mostly leaning towards Christian, there is also an area off to one side where prayer mats can be laid, and a sign on the wall indicates which direction is East.

A somber feeling in the room, and right now, it is occupied by...

Only two people. A older woman in a wheelchair with oxygen, it looks like she dozed off reading a book of psalms. And a white man, middle aged, sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. His shirt is rumpled, it looks like he may have been wearing it for several days, and there is a layer of stickers, one atop the other, the dated daily visitor stickers.

She moves closer to the man, trying to see if he bears a resemblence to Trina's mortal mein

It's hard to tell, her hair is a different color every day! But she can get a glimpse of his visitor sticker... Greg Smith.

Well, I found him She looks to bluebell and nods.

Bluebell whispers to Dee, "Shall I leave you to speak with him, wife of mine? I can look onward for wife of his?" Offering to go in search, or to stay.

Dee whispers "Text me every ten minutes, even if it's only with OK? until you find her? "

"I won't be late, for a very important date. No time to say 'hello, goodbye'..." Bluebell nods and slips out of the room.

Dee sits near Greg.

There is a hint of glamour lingering about him... unusual, as far as she's been told, he is straight vanilla mortal. Not even Kinain, Thistle thinks her Nocker blood came from Mom's side.

THAT catches her off guard. FOlks in distress are normally supposed to be , well, tragedy may have a glamour according to sluagh but... wait, has he been cantripped? ANd how the hell can she find out? Something is going on here

A thought hits her, a dangerous one, but she can't willowhisper the lingering glamour, beyond her ability. "You want a kleenex?" She reaches into her purse, ready to enchant it, and then him if he says yes or makes a positive gesture

As he turns to look at her, she can see that his eyes are deeply lined - lack of sleep, worry, and yes, reddened from crying. But beyond that... an unpleasant, sinking feeling in her gut, she recognizes something in his expression. She knew it well, before. A dulled edge, something gone foggy - someone has messed with this mortal's mind. Dee is familiar with Chicanery, and recognizes the signs. Someone was in his head.

"Sorry... what? I - I'm sorry. I didn't hear. Can I help you?" He has a handkerchief already, wrinkled and wound into knots between his fingers.

Of COURSE he does As her plan is shot to heck, but the chicanery has her wondering. Worrying.

"You might be able too. I'm a friend of Katrina, your daughter? " She says "Call me Lavender"

He looks over, and wonders at how this woman knows his daughter, and... "Lavender. I'm Greg."

She IS wearing a nametag proclaiming that she is 'Lori', but he doesn't seem to notice. Offering his hand.

"Sorry... Trina's friend? She must be worried, to send you. I told her.. not to come. Not to bring Frankie. God, how are we going to tell them?"

"That bad, huh?" She shakes, no takes his hand. Someone messed with this guy's head. Can she counter it?

He lets his hand be taken. "I thought... it was early, but Jan is strong. She's strong, and healthy. But there was no crying. I've had two children before. They're supposed to cry. The nurse said... she said it wasn't our fault. Sometimes this just... happens."

A troubled look, "I'm sorry. The baby didn't make it?"

He nods, then shakes his head. "Don't know how to tell the kids."

Bing! Text buzzes in Dee's pocket.

"Don't worry, that's not your daughter" She takes the phone and says "Pardon I.. have a friend she has some problems too, nothing compared to your loss"