dylansutton:
âWhatâs gonna happen, heâll lose his leg?â she asked him with a wrinkle of her nose before she looked him over and then sighed. âHow about you tag along because thereâs no way I can drag him out on the curb and keep him busy long enough for an ambulance to get here.â
âDepends. If heâs lucky, itâll just be the toe but if the infection has spread to his bone, itâll be the whole leg or worse.â Heath continued speaking as if the man wasnât paying attention. âYeah, sure.â He tapped the manâs shoulder and pointed towards the door as a guide. âYou spend a lot of time on medical rescue mission or is this a first?âÂ
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renata-ortiz:
Renata was positive that she wasnât the only one who thought his job was fascinating and she suddenly felt like an annoying burden interrupting his day. She nodded and maintained eye contact as she listened to what the man had to say about his career. âDo you prefer working with the police and working on cases or working with archaeologists and their digs?â she asked. She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at the forensic anthropologist. âIâm sorry for asking all these questions. If umâŚyou donât have anywhere to be, can I buy you a cup of coffee? Iâd really like to hear more about your career, but if you have to go, I get it.â She glanced over at the door to the coffee cafe right next to them. âIâm Renata by the way. Renata Ortiz.â
He let out a breath as he mulled over his answer. He thoroughly enjoyed conversations like these, in fact it was his own curiosities and willing professionals that set him on this path in the first place. âHmm, thatâs a tough one. I enjoy my job, I think it serves an important purpose but not much can beat a good field season. The stories are some of the funniest moments in my life.â The work he ended up with was entirely different from what he had expected when he was younger. âNo, no. Iâm free if you want to talk more but donât worry about the coffee.â He stuck his hand out for introduction. âIâm Heath Aldoretti. Nice to meet you. Are you from Westport?âÂ
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dylansutton:
ââ What?! Is that contagious?â The brunette asked as she removed her hands from the male who sheâd picked up in the corner of the bar. When sheâd heard someone was a doctor, she went for some advice about whether she should put him in the back of her car or call an ambulance.
Heath couldnât help the chuckle that left his throat. âNo, no. Donât worry. Your friend over there probably has diabetes.â He peered over the person he was talking about. âYou should probably get him to a hospital, it looks like heâs been letting that go for far too long; and drinking doesnât help.âÂ
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renata-ortiz:
Renata nodded as she took in the information that was being fed to her. She pursed her lips and glanced at the ground. She would need to talk to some other people about her mother. A forensic anthropologist wasnât going to get her many places with the information she wanted, but she couldnât deny that she was interested in the subject. For so many years, it was always sports, training, boxing, camps, sponsors, and whatever else came with the package deal of being a professional boxer. She hardly ever had time to think about other subjects and anything else that interested her. âThanksâŚthatâs good to know. Iâll look into it more later. I have another question, if you have time. Itâs not related to what I was talk about before. So, I know that forensic anthropology deals with figuring out how people died based on their remains. Do you work with the police or like with archaeologists and whatnot?â
Heathâs career always seemed the easiest way to break the ice; and he had no issues sharing the information and details involving his work. Or at least, to the legal extent that he could. âI have all the time. Yes-weâre able to aide investigators in their cases by providing information about skeletal remains.â It was almost difficult for Heath not to shift into his lecture mode. The voice he used for their educational programs. âI work out of Westportâs Medical Examinerâs office. I oversee all of Fulton County skeletal cases; so I work closely with the districtâs medical examiners and detectives on the case.â He shared a smile as he continued. âI donât work with archaeologists very much anymore; though I was involved in a few excavations during my time at school. Usually if thereâs any remains found at an archaeological site, theyâre required to stop digging.â
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cheyennemesserschmidt:
âAnd you didnât tell him?â Cheyenne asked, shocked that the person on the plane had gangrene. âI donât think youâre supposed to fly in that condition ever-youâre supposed to stay at home and donât move at all, right?â
âI donât think thereâs any way he didnât know; it was clearly discolored. Iâm surprised it wasnât more..uh-fragrant.â The circumstances of the situation should not have been a laughing matter itself, but Heath was always one to share strange stories. âHe should be at a hospital. Iâm sure they would have amputated his toe right away before the infection spreads to his bones.â Â
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victoriahawthorne:
âA gangrene?â Victoria made a face at the thought, shaking her head quickly. âNo â no way, really? Thatâs just⌠no, youâre definitely not supposed to fly with that, I think. And itâs not great for anyone else flying with you, either.â
âIt wasnât. Iâm surprised no one else complained, though I was the only one sitting next to him. â The image didnât necessary bother him, it was more worry than anything else. Perhaps a bit of astonishment at the situation. âHopefully he was on his way to a surgery center in another town. Anyways, anything new with you since Iâve been gone?âÂ
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renata-ortiz:
âActually, I wanted to know something elseâŚalthough it might be sort of a similar question. Not sure if youâll be able to help and Iâm sorry if Iâm wasting your time.â Renata replied. Sheâd been doing some of her own investigating lately, trying to figure her mother out without asking her anything. âI just figured that since youâre a forensic anthropologistâŚyou might know. Has anyone ever died from Munchausen syndrome?âÂ
Heathâs eyebrows furrowed at the thought. âHmmm, canât say thereâs ever been a direct correlation unless the disorder caused the person to inflict self-harm. As in, taking too many pills thinking it would cure their feigned illness.â His arms crossed as he continued, happy to share information he had. âThatâs something that we canât really prove with just an Autopsy. Weâd need patient history, and witness reports to support a theory like that. Though, to be entirely honest with you my expertise doesnât lie within wet autopsies.âÂ
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d-avidcorvin:
David looked between them, swallowing hard as he looked down at his dick. It was strange enough to hold a conversation at the urinal, but as it took this turnâ he was starting to feel a little ill. He hadnât noticed anything odd; but really, who was to say what was going on with his body. âWhat the fuck is gangrene?â
There was a mistake somewhere in their communication, but the fall of Davidâs smirk only influence Heath to run with the situation. âYou know, when an appendage starts to loss blood circulation? The skin starts to die and rot.â He raised his eyebrows and stepped away. â You wouldnât have diabetes, would you? Although, maybe itâs an advanced stage...have you been checked recently?âÂ
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âLook, Iâm not that kind of doctor,â Heath readjusted the bag slung over his shoulder. The weight pressed wrinkles into his shirt as his other hand raised to block the yawn that escaped. âbut anyone would be able to tell it was gangrene. I donât think youâre suppose to fly in that condition; sitting for hours already limits your blood circulation. â
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abellocke:
Most of Abelâs time was spent in the tattoo parlor just drawing things. Some of the sketches were tattoo ideas for him. The others were just drawings. As an artist first, he barely had time to just do things that werenât tattoos. Right now, he had taken the time to do what he normally couldnât find time to do. That was until he heard the bell faintly which signaled that somebody was coming into the shop. When he looked up and saw Heath, he nodded his head. âYeah, Iâve got time.â A chuckle left his mouth at the suggestion. âOh, buddy, I donât know if you wanna give me that kinda freedom.â
âYou know, as long as I donât leave her with a dick permanently etched onto my forehead, I think Iâll trust the system.â Heath found his way to the counter, examining the artwork that was presented on the walls for customers. âWhatâs something you always wanted to give someone but never did? Iâve got half arm full of space.âÂ
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@abellocke
Ration decisions during stress? It was an Aldoretti classic passed down through generations and generations of the Italian family. Heathâs arm was already covered in designs, a few having been completed since his arrival in Wesport; but today he wanted to add to the artwork. The only issue...he had absolutely no concept constructed in his mind. The clinging bell of the front door sounded throughout the parlor as he entered. âLocke, you got time today?â His features held a grin. âIâll let you do whatever piece you want.â
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addisonxyates:
That she wasnât. But at this point, she was not being picky. âIâm an anything that burns kind of person.â Seeing that he was already ordering himself another, she took the liberty of keeping his drink for herself as she settled into the seat beside him. It was no secret that Addison really hated this town and a lot of the people she grew up with. Of no fault of their own and rather because she just preferred forgetting her past and everyone around her felt like they were stuck in time, stuck back in her childhood and so at every turn, she was faced with some new reminder, some new memory. It had been one of those kinds of days for her. Not that she felt the need to divulge such information since the woman was far too good at pretending everything was alright. âRough week, rough month, rough year. But whoâs counting?â There was only a slight tug of her lips. âHowâs it looking for you. Must be busy being the new superstar of town charged with cracking this case wide open.âÂ
Everyone was haunted with demons, and in this town it seemed all the more true. Heath hadnât been one to pry. A bar was a place where you came to drown your obstacles, not broadcast them...and the few that did usually borrowed the ear of the nearest bartender. He left it be, perhaps one day, sheâd let it all spill. âOh? I count. Definitely.â A mocking smile tugged on his lips. âIâve got this little calendar at home, red âXâsâ for every shitty day.â He took a sip of the new drink as it arrived, saluting her a short cheers. A short intake of breath at the change of topic before blowing air out through his teeth. âYeah, well. I didnât exactly realize that our current situation with employees would place me in an interim position should anything have happened to the chief. Itâs more than busy.âÂ
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Heath had been in a rush returning from picking up lunch for the entire office. He wanted the fresh air anyways, and the break was all the more necessary. Though, now, he felt time slipping away and waited impatiently at a cross walk before the light turned green. The approach of the care would have gone unnoticed, had the looming shadow not grown closer and closer. A mistake, wrong place, wrong time. The contact with his leg could have been worse, but curses still flew. âCazzo! Stronza!â His hand slamming down on the hood of the car, before resting there to keep his balance. The pain was minimal but the shock had slipped through. âYeah, yeah. Iâm fine.â Embarrassed by his initial outburst he looked down to the small tear in his jeans. A surface scratch if anything. âItâs okay, itâs okay. Are you alright?âÂ
To say things were bad wouldâve been an understatement. No, her issues didnât particularly compare to what was happening to many people around her, but that wasnât to take away the overwhelming amount of stress she carried on her shoulders. Her time spent in a hospital bed had changed the course of so many things and left Danneel feeling far worse about herself than she had in months. And now she was taking time offâtrying to process all the news and come to terms with what was going to happen. It had her feeling spacy; unable to really focus on anything else. Which wasnât exactly a good thing when driving. Danneel was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she failed to really pay attention to what was happening in front of her, while seated behind the wheel of her car. Because of such, she ended up rolling through a stop sign and was just inches away from completely running over someone. Luckily, she stopped when she felt the minor crash and reality came storming through. âOh my god!â Her voice echoed inside the car before she was putting it into park and rushing out. âOh my god, oh my god! Iâm so⌠Iâm so sorry! Are you hurt?! Is there any pain? Bleeding!?â â @heathaldoretti
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It had been months, but the county had finally approved his request for new equipment. He was eyeing the macro lens heâd already researched before arriving when the womanâs voice caught his attention. âHmm..Oh..â Heath wasnât particularly private about his work, but he always felt some tinge of guilt bringing it up to strangers. They rarely expected such morbid details from asking a simple question. âUh, I guess you could say it falls under Environmental and Subject photography. Iâve been trying to get a hold of this macro lens for months.â Itâd help with photographing micro-abrasions and small substance transfers. âIâm assuming youâre into photography?âÂ
@heathaldoretti
     The camera store in town had quickly become one of Cassidyâs favorite places. It seemed almost shut off from the rest of the world. She wasnât sure how long it had been around, but every time she entered, she left with something unexpected. Except this time, she couldnât shut her mind off. This trip was supposed to stop her mind from racing with thoughts of the fire, Celeste, Rango, Axel. None of the equipment called to her. She lifted her head and looked around â her eyes settling on a man who was looking at a particularly heavy duty lens. She made her way over to him, smile already forming on her lips. âWhoa, thatâs a beautiful lens. What do you shoot? If I can get personal and ask that.â
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@heidibergen
âI apologize.â Heath breathed a heavy sigh as he handed over the copied document heâd been sending out to every official in town; or at the very least it felt that way. âI canât tell you any more than whatâs written in the initial report.â A hand brushed through his hair, it had been a little over a week since the positive identification of the victim. The pressure from such a public and high profile case had a quicker turned over than normal. âHonestly, weâre still waiting for tests to be come back completed. Thereâs nothing new, but when there is, we will be transparent as always.â
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