Part 3: Blackwell Legacy - Update 2 (Part 2)

Hospital Clocks



Rosa knocks on the door...

Come in.
Doctor Quentin?
Yes?
I'm Rosangela Blackwell.
Oh, hello. Come in. Come in.



For some reason, Doc Quentin strikes this dramatic pose whenever he stands up. No idea here, folks.

Throughout this conversation Rosa has a whole bunch of options of how to talk to the doctor. It doesn't matter which we choose, but each of them give a pretty good look into Rosa's psyche, so I'll go over all of them.

Yes I did.
Good. Good. My condolences on the loss of your mother.

Wait a minute, mother? Surely the doctor would know that Lauren was Rosa's aunt? As far as I can tell, Nishanthi might be the only competent person in New York.

Rosa has the option to get pissy, or try to correct the doctor smoothly. The first:

You mean my aunt.

And the second:

Thanks. My... aunt... is at peace now. Where ever she is.

Either way, the good doctor gets the message.

Ah. Quite right. Quite right.
So you wanted to talk to me about something?
Yes. Yes I did. But before we get into that, how are you holding up?

There are several dialogue forks in this conversation, though they all come back to the same point at the end. Rosa here can complain about her day:

Just having a really bad morning.
Oh?
It's.. I'll get over it. Just some stuff I have to deal with.

Give a paranoid response, complete with angry glare:

I'm... fine. Why?
Oh, no reason. Just asking questions. Goes with the job.
Right.

Or simply brush Quentin off completely.

I'm fine.
That's good to hear.

Quentin quickly changes the subject.

You received the ashes?
Yes. I scattered them this morning.
I imagine you must miss her.

You know, as much as I'm dumping on Rosa here, this conversation would be plenty awkward enough with the pointless comments Quentin keeps coming up with.

Three more options here. There's the honest response:

To be honest, I'm not sure what to feel. It's not like I knew her. Or even remember her from... before. She's like a stranger.
So why did you make it a point of visiting her all those years?

The callous response:

Not really.
Oh?
Nothing's really changed. Her body might have been alive, but her mind certainly wasn't.
That's a... pretty severe attitude, wouldn't you say.
Maybe.
But if she weren't "alive", as you say... Why did you make it a point of visiting her all those years?

And the pissy, petulant response:

Why does it matter?
There I go again. Asking too many questions. You're not a patient. You came at my request.
Right. Auntie was the patient.
And you made a point of visiting her for many years. If you'll indulge me one more time, could I ask you why?

Rosa can provide a reason for visiting, or just tell the doctor to fuck off.

Habit:

Habit, I guess. It was a place to go every week.

Family:

She was the only family I had. I guess I felt an obligation. Like I had to.

And the angry option:

I don't see why it's any business of yours.
It's all right. Forget I asked.
I wanted to come. I came. That's all.

Quentin continues to ask really awkward questions by following up with:

And now that you don't have to?



I have to say, I don't blame Rosa for lashing out here. She literally scattered her aunt's ashes an hour ago and the doctor is asking retarded questions of her.

Auntie's dead. Life goes on.
So you'll just keep living, is that it?
Yes.
Keep writing your little book reviews in the paper, right?

"Little book reviews?" What the fuck is the matter with this guy?

...
You know about those?
It's hardly a secret. A number of the staff have read them, yes.
I didn't think a West Village paper would interest anyone up here.
I have to be honest, Miss Blackwell.



I love the shit-eating grin he wears here as he seemingly deliberately pushes the buttons of Rosa's social phobia.

Rosa has three ways to throw a tantrum about it. The deadpan response:

Oh?

The response:

That's... really creepy, Mr. Quentin.

And the defensive response:



Why am I here?
Their intentions were purely benign, I assure you. It was your aunt they were primarily interested in. They wanted to know more about her family, and you proved to be... shall we say, less than eager to comply?
That's their problem.
Indeed. It was your choice to make.

Not satisfied having thoroughly creeped out and pissed off his dead patient's grieving niece, Quentin decides to be an even bigger prick.



And now that she's gone, I was hoping you'd be more forthcoming with me. Just an informal chat. We can discuss her condition. And yours too, of course.

Wait, what does he mean, "yours too"?

Wait. What do you mean by "my condition"?
Hereditary dementia is my speciality, Miss Blackwell. And in my opinion, there is significant cause for concern.

You have got to be fucking kidding me. This is the worst psychiatrist I've ever seen.

Sorry... did you say "hereditary"?
Yes. Two generations. Your aunt, and your grandmother before her.
My... grandmother?
Yes. Patricia, I think her name was. Right?
I never knew my grandmother.
Auntie Lauren was it. There was nobody else. She couldn't exactly provide me with a family history.
Oh, I see. I had no idea.



I like Rosa more when she's yelling at someone who actually deserves it.

Did anyone else come in to visit her, besides me?
No. You are correct. I should have read the family history more carefully. I do apologize. I just assumed... Well, nevermind. It doesn't change the fact that you should be concerned as well.
Go on.
Patricia Blackwell suffered her mental collapse at the age of fifty-five. Lauren Blackwell underwent hers at the age of forty.
What are you saying?



No. I am saying that there is significant cause for concern.

No, you were pretty much saying what Rosa thought you were saying, doc.

You never could find out what was wrong with her, huh?
No, we didn't. But she still remains a fascinating case.
Fascinating? I don't understand.
Forgive me. I speak from a purely professional perspective. I didn't know your aunt personally.

"HEY ROSA, SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR DEAD MOTHER AUNT. BOY THAT CRIPPLING DISORDER SHE HAD SURE WAS FASCINATING, WASN'T IT?"

Seriously, fuck this doctor.

Neither did I. But... fascinating?
It might come as a surprise, but yes.
But she was practically catatonic.



Rosa raises a good point here.

She'd sometimes twitch or mumble something incoherent, but I wouldn't call that fascinating.
Well, as you know, she wasn't exactly catatonic. We kept her sedated.
Right... she had outbursts.
Yes, and we had to sedate her heavily to keep her calm. Especially in preparation for your visits.
What are you trying to say?
Miss Blackwell, we are not a nursing home. We're not content to merely keep a patient comfortable. We are, after all, in the healing profession. We were trying to heal your aunt, and to do that we had to speak to her.
Wait... you spoke to Auntie?
We tried to.
Did she answer back?
After a fashion, yes.



Another good point.

Miss Blackwell, do you remember what brought your aunt here in the first place? Her screaming? Her hitting herself?
I...I was only five years old at the time. But I kind of remember.
In order to prevent her from doing harm to herself or to others, we were forced to sedate her.



That's creepy as shit, and his stupid ass smile is not helping matters.

Her natural state, I am sorry to add.
What did Auntie say?
Nothing that made any sense.



"Oh, and by the way, you're probably going to get the same disorder. Have a nice evening!"

Pain? What kind of pain?
It's difficult to say. But it was... immense.
How immense?
When we reduced her medication, the transformation was dramatic. Her eyes flew open. She thrashed. Her screams... well. We had to gag her, eventually.
My God...
I know.

I seriously can't think of one good reason why the doctor is telling Rosa this now.

Did she still... feel it... when she was sedated?
We don't know. But there's no way of knowing.
Twenty five years.
I know.
Poor Auntie.

Finally having had enough of this horrifying conversation, Rosa decides to change the subject.



Hahaha, yes, Rosa. Unlike every other living person in history.

Apparently, yes.
How do you know about her?
It was in your Aunt's case history when she was brought to us. Patricia Blackwell's symptoms were the same. Word for word. Patricia's case was severe, and she was young, but it was chalked up to being an ordinary case of dementia. Until...
Until it struck her daughter.
Until twenty five years later, when it struck her daughter. Yes.
It seems impossible.
Perhaps it's genetic, but we've detected no abnormality.

This is just fantastic.

So what should I do.
Right now? Nothing. This type of thing is unprecedented.



"Basically, you're screwed! "

I'll admit it, I'm being unfair to Doctor Quentin here. His animated portrait goes through several emotions, so he's not just grinning like an idiot non-stop. It's still there often enough to make it look like he's far happier about having this conversation than he should be.

You couldn't find any other link between the two cases?
None, aside from the family connection. And... a name.
A name? What name?
The documentation we had on your grandmother is minimal, but there was one interesting item noted.



That's a rather odd symptom...

Your Aunt, too, would cry out that name on occasion.
Joey?
Yes.
Who's Joey?
We've been wondering the same thing for twenty five years.

So wait, let's get this straight. You've known about this all along, including the very high likelihood that Rosa is going to be affected by the same disorder, but waited until now to tell us? Jesus Christ.

Is there anything else you need to tell me before I go?
Your Aunt had some personal effects in storage. As the next-of-kin, you're the beneficiary. It's just a folder. Some documents, and so on. It's being sent to your address via messenger.
Oh. Well, thanks for that.
It is not problem at all. Good bye, Miss Blackwell.



Oh, yeah, we'll get right on that. Quentin decides to drop one more creepy-ass comment as Rosa leaves.

I'm always happy to discuss my favourite patient.
Sure.



In a daze, Rosa stumbles back to the elevator to ponder this ludicrously awful news she has just been given. If nothing else, Bellevue has just guaranteed a new psychiatric patient for years to come!!




We'll stop there after that plot dump and continue Rosa's slow plunge into hideous madness tomorrow. Your comments/questions/whatever are welcomed