Izumi Curtis

Izumi glared at the woman behind the counter, who just smiled back. "I'm very sorry, ma'am, but there's nothing we can do. The next bus for Dublith will be through in four days. Why don't you and your husband take the time to see some of Central's sights?" She pushed a wad of pamplets over the counter, still smiling.

Izumi took a deep breath, counting backwards from ten. She was NOT going to destroy the bus station. She was going to remain calm. She WAS.

Izumi hadn't meant to break the phone. She'd just slammed it down a little too hard was all. She was angry, but rather determined to keep her promise to Sig and not beat up the doctors... no matter how annoying they were being.

She also hadn't really meant to traumatize the nurse... but sometimes these things happen.

Izumi was in the hospital. Again. She could tell, even without opening her eyes, by the stench of the disinfectant. Like they were battling to cover the smell of rot, and failing miserably. This did nothing to help her already bad mood.

And there was someone /poking/ her.

The alchemist opened a single dark eye to glare at her tormentor. He was one of those young, horribly keen doctors who thought they could save the world just by snapping their fingers. Right now, those fingers were pressed against her stomach in a way that was /very/ painful.

They say a doctor's hands are the eyes of God.

Izumi gave God a black eye.

She sat up in the narrow bed, listening to the bones of the doctor's hand creak ominously in her own. "Don't. Do. That." she snarled, her grip tightening. The doctor whimpered, tears leaking from his eyes.

Still gripping the offending hand, Izumi swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling decidedly chilled. They'd taken her clothes and put her in a paper thin hospital gown.