OPEN ★

[asouthron]

Characters: Ms. Leonard McCoy asouthron and you!
Date: During the Swap Event
Location: Dr. Natu's clinic
Situation: Come woe, wallow and panic with an equally panicky woman!McCoy
Warnings/Rating: Swearing and alcoholism I'm sure

Action and prose are both welcome!

The day had such potential--And maybe that's his problem. He has grown complacent in this place as if it's an ordinary life. And maybe it's starting to look like that, but, no, not his life. Not knowing Jim. McCoy should have prepared harder for the inevitable crazy that always hits them.

And it certainly hit the doctor with a giant voodoo stick. It doesn't take long after he wakes up to realize something's definitely wrong. He has breasts and his voice has changed. Great. Just fucking great. So, the first thing he does is call--Well, yell at is a better term--Jim on his communicator before hightailing it to the clinic. On a bright note, he doesn't have to shave this morning.

The clinic is, of course, packed with people freaking out, and nothing McCoy can do about it, goddamnit! So, he takes samples from everyone and tries to find a link outside of "Oops, magic happened!" with dark age technology.

"God help me," he grunts melodramatically onto his desk, the very definition of petulance and impotence.

Comments

[starcharter]

Well this had been... something. Chekov was used to weird, but this was a pretty different kind of weird. There was a little panic, pinching himself a few times to make sure this wasn't a dream, and then resignation. He saw that the network had lit up with people complaining of changes.

When he saw Dr. McCoy as a woman, it was somehow more shocking than waking up as a woman himself. Once the shock (sort of) wore off, Chekov decided the clinic was his first stop. Until his clothes fit horribly to the point of being uncomfortable. Then the market was his first stop, then a bakery (he still needed to eat) and then the clinic.

Which is why, about an hour and a half later, a woman in a simple sundress (hey, it was convenient) and sandals (again, convenient) is walking over to Doctor McCoy's desk, holding out a savory breakfast bun like a peace offering.

"I think this is the definition of 'chaos.'"

Well Chekov's accent survived the transformation, at least.

[asouthron]

"One of 'em anyway," McCoy mumbles without even looking up, too focused on finishing writing out a sentence--God he is actually reduced to scrawling in this goddamn world! How unbelievable!--to actually look up.

Once he does, though, his hazel eyes hit the girl's face, then her pretty dress, and right back up to her face again. That trademark eyebrow raises up into the soft curls of his long hair after a moment. "Nice dress, Ensign," he deadpans before finally resting his pencil on his desk. "Glad to see I'm not the only boy with female troubles..."

[starcharter]

Chekov isn't even bothered. He simply shrugs.

"I had trouble with my clothes, and this was the easiest solution."

He winces slightly.

"It seems a lot of people are having trouble, some more serious than others. I am just glad I'm still in my own body, even if it has changed."

[asouthron]

McCoy grunts at that and simply ignores the fact that he stubbornly put on his Starfleet uniform despite them not fitting at all. His bust brings the tunic up above his undershirt and wist line. And don't even get him started about how long it took him to cram his hips and ass into his pants. He will have to do something about it, but for now he's just trying to do his damn job.

"Yeah, tell me about it. One of my nurses--The poor woman. She got her body swapped with a man she barely knows. Can you imagine?" The doctor shudders at the very idea of being in another person's body. The violation of it all is just sickening.

"Anyway..." Getting up from his desk, he motions for Chekov to follow him further into the clinic. "The sooner we get started, the sooner you'll be done." He leads them both to a private room in the back and closes the door behind them. "Take a seat," McCoy grumps as he opens up his medical kit.

[imaginate]

Being a kid doesn't mean Kyle's going to skip his responsibilities at the clinic, even if he can't say the word responsibility at once and has to break it down into syllables. He comes in, dutifully carrying a few towels, and comes up to McCoy, prodding him (her?) curiously. His physical features are all the same, he's just seven.

'Whassamatter?'

[asouthron]

At the sound of the front door opening, McCoy is kind enough to grunt something that resembles a welcome. The alien sound of his voice makes him scowl all the harder into his work. When nothing comes of his acknowledgement he soon forgets anyone came in at all.

That is, until he feels someone poke him in the goddamn kidney! Flinching back with an undignified yelp, McCoy turns his head to glare at the cocky bastard who dares to put a hand on him! What he finds is a little kid, and God help him, but he can't actually slap a child. Not yet, at least.

"Listen, kid, I'm kinda bus--" It's something in his eyes and the confidence that he's supposed to be there that catches the doctor off guard. "Jesus Christ on a cracker..." Yeah, alright. He finally puts his pencil down and pays attention. "Ah hell, son. Yer... yer a kid!!" McCoy shouts, as if that isn't obvious enough.

[imaginate]

McCoy always called him kid, that endeared and annoyed Kyle in equal measure. He'd earned the right to be his own person, and the word reminded him too much of his rookie years, and all the mistakes that had come with being one. Even so, those that used it now were aware, and sought to protect rather than belittle him. McCoy had earned the right to be there, as his other doctor. He was gruff, but Kyle knew a mother hen when he saw one. He attracted them like moths to flame.

'Isn't it cool?' he says, cheerfully, attempting to put the good country doctor at ease. 'As long as we're stating the obvious: you're a lady!'

Because alas, ageing down only made him more of a troll.

[asouthron]

"I am, though I dunno if I'd call it 'cool'. Maybe more like obnoxious, infuritatin', or goddamn inconvenient." But sure, if cool works for the kid, then McCoy is more than happy to feed his delusions.

"What're you doin' here, kid? I pray it's because you want a physical and not because you think you should be workin'."

[asoothingvoice]

Look at it this way, at least you're still in your body, doctor; Bianca woke up in the body of one (1) Tony Stark. Her only interaction with the man up until this morning had been to shout at him over the network for telling a poor girl that technology was magic and everyone was a witch in the future.

Unpleasant surprise and introduction aside, she was still determined to go in to work, even though he didn't trust her with his body and she didn't trust him with hers. She didn't trust herself with his body either- what had he done to himself?!- but it wasn't going to stop her, especially since others appeared to be having the same problem.

After seeing Dr. McCoy's video on the network, she headed straight over to his desk and the forlorn doctor the moment she entered the clinic.

"Dr. McCoy? It's Bianca." Guess who isn't enthused about this either.

[asouthron]

The pencil in his hand actually falls out of his grip and rolls dramatically across the table. His shocked face takes in what had once been a mother, now a tall man with facial hair. Great.

"Ah hell, Ms. Reyes," he sighs with sympathy. "Not to get too personal, but if you... need some extra clothes, just let me know."

[asoothingvoice]

Not a good day to be either of them, clearly. Or many others in Keeliai, for that matter.

At least she had the heads up from seeing the good doctor's network post first.

"I don't think I'll have a problem as far as clothing goes. This is someone else's body, and he's in mine." As far as she's concerned, Tony Stark is staying in the Reyes suite until this is fixed.

"If you need anything, though, I think we're around the same size. ...Usually. There's no point in buying more than you have to when this isn't going to last." There's a definite expectation that it better not, at least.

"Is there anything I can do to help around here right now?"

[asouthron]

"Jesus!" His hazel eyes boggle at her statement. My God, he can't even imagine how uncomfortable that must be. It's one thing to have only your sex changed, but to be in a completely different body. And someone in yours? Yeah, that sounds like the worst violation ever. "Well, congratulations, yer the first I've seen today under this category." With an insufferable sigh, he leans back in his chair with a petulant creak.

Her offer almost goes unanswered while the doctor chews on the idea like cud in a cow's mouth. His first instinct is to play the gentlemen and get through his under his own steam, not let her worry about loaning out clothing. Hell, he's pretty confident they can get this fixed rather soon. But, knowing full well how horrible his current uniform fit, he finally relents with a sheepish look. "That's... Mighty kind of you, thanks. I'll have to take you up on that."

Until then, he's fine in his uniform, even if he looks anything but a professional right now, and the seams of his pants were firmly wedged into his ass. Whatever, he'll live for a few more hours!

"Right now... I'm currently catalogin' all complaints and walk-ins into categories. Regressions or progressions in age, sex changes--Body changes we'll hafta add to that list now. Some've been complainin' about contractin' new abilities too. It's a damn mess.

"Since yer my first subject in the body swap category, I'd love to get some readin's off ya--Or, hell, if you wanna do it yerself that's fine. You know how to use my tricorder. Obviously, I have questions, but those can wait..." Eventually, he stops pacing after having run out of things to say. He brings his hand up to his face, scowling all the harder in case it helps eek out any remaining information he hasn't already laid out.

"The one thing I do need are patients who aren't affected by this spell. They may have a common resistance that we could use... Maybe. Hopefully."

[wintershepherd]

As much as Jack wasn't sure how this would help explain what was obviously a magical transformation... and one that he was sure Zatanna would find a fix for... he knew that Doctor McCoy's insistence in gathering information was only born out of a desire to try and help and Jack respected that. If he'd had any such skill that would help, he'd have been doing the same thing.

Physically he looks very similar to his normal appearance... his features are still slight, his hair is considerably longer though he did make a half attempt to tie it down back before flying over here and the loose material of the hoodie only revealed anything when he turned certain ways. The biggest change was his voice which had gone up several octaves to a gentle alto which became evident when he knocked on the frame of the open door to let McCoy know he'd arrived.

"Doctor?"

[asouthron]

"Jack." He didn't bother looking up until he finished his last thought on paper. "Good timin'..." Once he was done, McCoy got up from his chair and rounded the large desk in front of him, trying not to look like a total grouch. It wouldn't do to give the kid any time to second guess his decision.

"This'll just take a minute. We'll go in the back." Most of the hysteria had calmed down now that word was getting around the network about the mishap, leaving their clinic blessedly empty or very nearly. Still, even with all the vacant beds, he took Jack in the back to a private room. The fact that the kid went out of the way to ask for confidentiality told him all he needed to know, even without those bizarre readings the first time they met.

Grabbing his medical kit along the way, the doctor closed the door behind them with a soft click. "Hope up on the bed for me."

[wintershepherd]

He appreciated the private room, leaning his staff aside against the wall and settling lightly on the edge of the bed as instructed. He didn't feel the same anxiety as he had when Doctor Natu had examined him, though whether that was because he was here by choice and not by illness or because McCoy wasn't a Lantern, Jack couldn't say for certain.

He thought for a moment, then pulled the blue hoodie off over his head, so that he was just down to a loose fitting wool shirt, several centuries out of date and shaking unfamiliar and errant strands of long white hair out of his face where they ended up. "Jeez," he said, raking them back with his fingers, "girls make this look easy."

[asouthron]

"God, tell me about it!" He began combing through his own curls that fell across his shoulders. "You should see what happens to this when it gets humid! It's like a goddamn mane of frizz!" Growling at the cruel world, he turned his scowling gaze back on his medical kit. He took out both his medical and regular tricorder, as well as an empty vial. Then, out of his pocket, the doctor turned on a small flashlight. Might as well get through the basic stuff first. Three months of physicals and check-ups and he still had to huff at doing many of these simple tests the old fashioned way.

She stood in front of him, his thighs pressing lightly against his knees as McCoy looked down at Jack. "Tilt yer head back for me, please. Now, about what time this morning did you realize you'd changed?"

[violetsedanchair]

Walter finds his way to the clinic, wearing his white labcoat and a scarf tied around the lower half of his face like a bandit in an old western. He does his best to stay away from the people clamoring for his attention - he does look like a doctor in his coat! - but he's not been infected by whatever it is, and he'd rather keep it that way.

"Look, ma'am, I don't work here! That's what I am here for, to offer my services! No, I have no idea what's going on!"

He did, after all, have extensive experience dealing with bizarre biological phenomena and strange pathogens, even if people were never too impressed by his bedside manner. People were much easier to deal with when they were dead and you could do an autopsy on them in peace. Except that one time someone rose from the dead on the slab.

Walter waves at someone who looks like they might be working at the clinic. "Hello! I am Doctor Bishop and I wish to speak to whoever's in charge!"

ohh this is gonna be beautiful ;D

[asouthron]

Who the hell's yelling? Scrunching his face into a tight scowl, McCoy turns his head away from his paperwork to find the source. No one yells in here, except him! That's his one God-given right, sir!

Rising up from his chair, he leans over the lacquered wood. He gets one look at the guy--At that scarf!--and his eyebrow shoots straight up his forehead. "That'd be me. I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy. Look, before you even start--" McCoy holds up a hand to stop anything this man has to say so he can recite his well-rehearsed prologue to counter the inevitable hysteria he is about to receive. "We're doin' all we can to reverse this spell. I'm sure we'll be able to turn you young again soon."

Re: ohh this is gonna be beautiful ;D

[violetsedanchair]

Walter stops in his tracks and blinks a few times, not sure what to make of the woman yelling at him. His first instinct is to cower, but there's science to be done here!

His voice is slightly muffled by the scarf: "Look, ma'am - excuse me, Doctor McCoy, I am perfectly fine! That's why I am here, to help you figure out what's going on and cure it! I saw your message."

Not that he wouldn't want to be 30 years younger, but that might also restore his brain to its former shape and that might not be such a good thing. He had some of those brain cells excised for a reason.

[asouthron]

Ma'am. McCoy sighs, ponders correcting him, but he is just too tired to fight that battle. Technically, he's a woman now and a social construct isn't going to get his panties in a twist. At least not right now. He's got more important things to deal with--Well, they do, apparently.

"Oh. Well, hell, pull up a damn chair then! We could use all the help we can get!" Sitting back down at his desk and tried to organize his papers. His papers! It might as well be a goddamn curse word. "What're your fields?"

[ironface]

Isabeau hadn't actually said she'd go, but she may as well have. She knows this.

Unfortunately.

She's still not sure how much help someone not affected would be, but this never was her area of interest - not that it could have been, but still. She's wary, even though she doubts there's any sort of threat. Either way, it doesn't stop her from opening the door (is that the right protocol?) and knocking on the doorframe.

[asouthron]

After a moment, he looks up from his desk and beckons the girl inside. "Well, come on in. What can I do for you?" By the time she arrives, the clinic is fairly quiet. The only hustle is a few nurses helping with research. Most of the hysterical population has been herded out of the office, which has helped McCoy's stress levels exponentially. he can actually respond to people without snapping.

[ironface]

She wraps her hand around her gauntlet, a nervous habit that she can't quite break herself of.

"You said you were in need of... samples from everyone, in light of the magic?"

[dashesanddots]

This morning is an experience that Robert never wants to repeat ever again. The struggle of getting Rosalind to sit down for breakfast was real enough, her having some... clairvoyant complications with her meals only made matters worse. Sausage, eggs, some toast, and the closest thing to coffee that Keeliai had to offer. A simple breakfast, wholesome.

And apparently traumatic, on top of the fact that coffee substitutes didn't seem to play well with Rosalind's young taste buds.

Robert hopped onto the network almost immediately to see if this was an issue for anyone else, and lo, it was! Relief came to him, and especially since those who were medically involved in the community here had put out a request for samples. As far as he was aware, he was unaffected by what was going on, so what better control for something than to have his samples with hers? There was that whole thing about their DNA being exactly the same save one having an X and one a Y, which wasn't usually the case for fraternal twins, but details...

After a brief conversation with Bones over the network, he talked with Rosalind and convinced her (no doubt with some tugging) to come with him down to the clinic.

[dotsanddashes]

If Robert never wanted to repeat that again, Rosalind was even less enthused. Every bite of breakfast had been a barrage of images that she did not want - sausage was especially terrible. She'd wound up choking down the toast and chasing it with the closest thing to whiskey Keeliai had.

And now she was being dragged to see a doctor. This irritated her because...everything was irritating right now, but honestly, if she could get some kind of answers, she was willing to deal with it.

She would just be cranky about it.