2012-07-10 Innocent Conversations Lead to...

Early morning, and Prabhakar is visiting a little café. He's been wanting to find a good one--which, for him, partly means "one that will actually serve him with a smile", and partly will mean he won't get the Friends of Humanity called. Mostly the former, really, as the latter--as yet--hasn't been a problem. At the moment, having obtained his chilled coffee, he sits outside in the clear and bright morning sunlight, wings folded over his chest to hang down like a cloak, and he sits a bit cockeyed in the chair to let his tail hang back freely. It swishes lightly to and fro, though he sits with his back to the building so it doesn't get in the way. He has a Braille newspaper in front of him, and he runs his right index and middle fingertips along the print, arching a brow now and then at what he reads.

Yesterday was a long day. Last night was worse. This morning... Donna's not doing so well. She's distracted, hungry, in need of caffeine... Dressed in a pait of distressed hipster jeans with a slight flare to bottom of the legs, a teal cami, black slightly heeled boots and a grey shoulder shrug, she makes her way through the outside seating area and towards the main doors of the café. The woman seems to be moving on autopilot. Left table - two people - step right. Left table - mother and stroller - Side step to the right. Empty table. Empty table. Right table - Gentleman with wings and a tail - step left. Three steps after Prabha, she's reaching for the door. And then she's stopping. There's a ten second pause where she blinks several times and turns her head over her shoulder to look at him. Three more blinks and she's back stepping. It's impolite to stare. She knows it is but... Oh! My! God! He has wings! Just look! Squeee!

A hairless brow arches when the woman backpedals, and Prabhakar looks up to the woman. He smiles at her, the expression warm and friendly, and folds the newspaper over. "Please," he says, indicating the seat across from him. "Sit down. I realize the establishment is--busy." Which is something of an understatement, and he knows it. While he might not be able to tell the details of her own features, he can all but "feel" the reaction she exudes--which is, really, a nice change of pace. Usually, the best reactions he gets are at the clinic, and even those are--restrained.

Donna smiles warmly at the man. "That's very kind of you, Sir." She looks back the door a moment. She really should get food and coffee but... Wings! The latter wins out and the young woman settles herself into a see across from him. "I'm very sorry for staring. It was rude." A light blush touches her cheeks.

Thankfully, Prabhakar is far too polite to react to the blush, even if the sudden spike in heat is--interesting. It's more of that rather unusual reaction he doesn't get very often, so he certainly isn't complaining. "No apologies are necessary," he tells her sincerely. "I am often stared at, but this is the first time by a young woman who is not about to throw something." Kind of a lame joke, even though it should be obviously a joke by his tone, but he's trying. Different cultures have different forms of humor, after all.

A little chuckle comes from Donna. "Their loss." Her hand is held out across the table. "I'm Donna, by the way and again, thank you for letting me sit." Another smile before her eyes are drawn to his wings again and her cheeks flame a deep pink. "I'm sorry. It's terribly rude but I just have to ask... Can I touch them??"

That makes his left eyebrow lift again, this time a bit higher. That's a first, it really is. Still, it's not like it's the worst or oddest thing Prabhakar has ever heard. Not even close. A beat's pause, then, "Well--I do not suppose it would be a bad thing." A wider smile, there, and his left wing lifts from him flexing once in a stretch, like one might stretch their arm, then it reaches around the table toward her. Given its length, it'll have no problem getting to her, and she can feel the bones of the finger-like "struts", the leathery aspect to the membrane.

Tentatively, as if she's afraid of hurting him, Donna reaches out and draws her fingertips lightly across the bone and membrane, eyes growing wide at the feel. "Oh damn." A bright smile stretches from ear to ear and it takes all she has not to actually squeal. She glances back at him, still smiling before looking back at the wing. "That's so cool!" There /might/ be a little bouncing there. "Can you fly with them?" She finally retracts her hand, clasping it tightly with the other on the table lest she try to touch again.

A soft chuckle from the mutant, then Prabhakar retracts his wing, shaking it to get it settled, then he curls it over his shoulder again, to the hook at the apex interlocks with the hook at the apex of the other wing. "Yes, I fly with them. And my, ah--rudder." His tail peeks up behind his shoulder, waving a little before disappearing downward out of view again. The smile widens to a grin, showing the four sharpened canines, though he quickly thinks of that and lowers his lips once more. No need in seeming--aggressive.

The tail is seen and Donna just can't help herself. She giggles! "Oh wow! Fangs too." There's a single clap before she catches herself and promptly sits on her hands. "I am so sorry. I don't mean to make you feel awkward. This just so damn awesome!" Alright, so she's a pretty easy going girl for the most part. There's a clearing of her throat as she tries to compose herself. "If you'll excuse me a moment... I'm going to go get a bite and some coffee to bring out after I squeal like a school girl somewhere you can't hear." And with that, she stands.

The mutant chuckles again, then says, "You do not make me feel awkward, believe me. And please, allow me to accompany you.  The least an old man like me can do is pay for a young woman's coffee." Another grin, then he gets to his feet and uses his tail to grab the newspaper--and fold it, even. That gets tucked under his arm, then he motions for Donna to precede him. "Ah, by the name, my name is Prabhakar Bhattacharya, but you may simply call me Prabha if you prefer." He holds the door open for her like a gentleman should, then goes to accompany her to the counter.

Heading in, she walks right up to the counter. "Caramel vanilla iced latte, please." While it's being made, she turns to look over his wings again before grinning. "I would love to see them in action some time."

After paying and stepping aside with her, Prabhakar says, "I--believe that can be arranged, if you wish. I give my time to a clinic in Hell's Kitchen, and I'll be due there in a while.  I could--give you a lift, as they say?" Yes, he's offering to take her for a ride. Up in the air.

Okay... Now... The fair thing to do would be tell him she can fly but... but... Damn. "Well, I certainly won't argue with it at all but I should tell you that I can do it on my own so you don't have to add my weight." Her coffee is handed to her and the barista is flashed a distracted smile and thanks before she looks back at Prabha. "You're a doctor then? A nurse?"

"A doctor," says Prabhakar with a grin. "I was fully licensed after attending the All India Institute of Medical Sciences before moving to America, but I am having to attempt to get licensed /here/--which is very different, in many ways." A shrug, and he motions for her to precede him again so they can enjoy the morning outside. Naturally he'll open the door for her again.

"Really? How's it different?" Donna grins as she steps through the door. "Thank you." Her seat is taken back up and the coffee brought to her lips and sipped at. "Mm. By the Gods, that's good." After savoring the sip a moment, her eyes go back to her 'breakfast' companion. "Physical or psychological doctor?"

"Processes, though it is also that the United States as yet does not recognize the Institute, at least not enough to automatically transfer licenses." A shrug as they head back to the table. "I /believe/ I may only have to make my rounds, as they say--obtain residency hours, but that is /after/ all of the paperwork, and attempting to speak to people on the telephone." He pulls her chair out for her, as he sets the newspaper back on the table with his tail. Having an extra limb is rather handy.

Another smile goes up to him when her chair is pulled out. "Thank you again." When they settle in and he begins explaining, she lets out a soft 'ah' sound, showing she understands. "And that's what's giving you such a hard time?" Another drink of her coffee is taken as she leans back in her seat and crosses her legs. "I'm sure the clinic finds your help invaluable. Do you plan on staying on after you get your license?"

"Mmm, somewhat," Prabhakar agrees as he pulls out his own chair. "I sometimes think they are making up forms as I require them, just to have more hoops to jump through." A lift of his brows, there, at the little joke. He's still trying to get American humor down, and sarcasm doesn't much come naturally to him. "And yes, I do plan on staying. India is becoming very much a first-world nation, including medical knowledge--but there is still so much more to learn /here/.  Further, there are so many people to help--one of the worst crises that India faces is an A.I.D.S., but that is not my area of knowledge.  I am a general practitioner."

Donna grins, taking another drink of her coffee. "It's really awesome that you'll be staying." A piece of shimmering black hair is tucked back behind her ear and she takes a moment to look around before her eyes return to him. "Is that what brought you over here then? The want to learn?"

"Very much so," replies Prabhakar with a nod. "There is only so much to learn, even at the Institute. The more one knows, the more one can help, too." A smile, there, then he takes a sip of his coffee. "It might be difficult to--get the ball rolling, here, as they say, but it will be most beneficial in the end."

"Mm. Very true..." For a moment, Donna's voice sounds a bit distracted before she refocuses herself, takes a drink of her coffee and once more looks up at Prabha. "Well... I don't know how much good it will do but I can see if my sister knows anyone that might be able to get things going for you..."

That makes Prabhakar's eyebrow arch again, and he sets his cup on the table so he can interlace his fingers, resting his hands near his cup. "If I may ask," he says, "whom may your sister be? I certainly will not turn down any help, but I must admit to being--curious."

"Diana, Princess of Themyscira. Also known as Wonder Woman." Donna smiles softly as she drinks, slowly, at the coffee. "If she, herself, can't help then she may know of someone who can." Donna's shoulders lift into a shrug. She sees no reason not to help the man if possible. Especially when she's failed to help another. "And if there's anything else..."

The mutant furrows his brows and tries to place that name. "That sounds--Greek, yes? I have not studied much of Greek geography, so I must admit I do not know of this Themyscira, but I will certainly not turn away the aid of a princess--or her most kind sister." Another grin, there, and he picks up his cup to lift in something of a toast before taking another sip.

"Themyscira is the home of the Amazons." Donna chuckles softly and lifts her glass in return. "And I thank you for the compliment." A long drink of the coffee is taken. "And yes, it's Greek. I was raised by the very titans that stories talk about."

"Amazons? The all-female warriors placed by Herodotus between Scythia in Sarmatia?" Prabhakar asks, obviously rather impressed. He smiles again and cants his head a little to one side. "Now, Greek mythology I know a little about, and I knew that the world was becoming filled with true marvels, true wonders, but I did not expect relatives of gods." He does believe her; while he isn't exactly a walking lie-detector, she displays none of the biological signs commonly associated with lying--and, frankly, it's not like it's unbelievable anyway. "To be raised by Titans--my. While I would not give up Kolkata for anything, I admit--given the choice, being raised by Titans would be--tempting." That smile becomes a grin, and the appreciation stays evident in his features.

Donna chuckles softly. "Believe me... Not quite as magical as it sounds. I was trained, killed and resurrected all in the name of conquering worlds for them." She gives a small shrug of her shoulders, trying not to show how much it bothers her. "I'm eighteen and have the memories of dozens and dozens of lives. I would rather have been raised by humans."

"There is an old expression," says Prabhakar, leaning back in his chair some--or at least as much as the necessarily-odd position allows him. So, not much, really. "I believe it speaks of lusting for the green of one's neighbor's lawn." A beat's pause, that smile widening again, then, "There are always things about our childhoods, our home, that we find--distasteful, yes? But in the end, I believe they are too much a part of who we are to be able to give up.  Were you raised as a mortal, you would doubtless be a much different person--and who is to say if that person would be a better one?"

"The grass is always greener on the other side." Donna chuckles softly and then finishes her coffee. "I suppose nothing, really. She wasn't any better than I am. We were just a little different." She speaks as if she knows exactly what she would have been like if she had been raised by humans.

All things considered, Prabhakar wouldn't doubt she does. After all, one imagines that someone would learn a thing or two after a few dozen lifetimes. Even so, he has sympathy for what he can only imagine it must have been like. "I think it's healthy to look at different perspectives, to--wonder, even, what it would have been like if we had taken the other option, been given the other choice. I think it is healthy because we can put our lives into perspective, if we can remember that a 'different' life does not always mean a 'better' one." A beat's pause as he retrieves his cup, then he adds, "Of course, remembering that is--the trick." Another grin, then he finishes his own coffee as well. He knows as well as anyone how difficult it can be sometimes to remember, so speaks from personal experience.

"It's easy to forget... I have all these memories of friends... People I know and bonded with. People that are special to me. And they exist in this life but they have no idea who I am." There's a wry smirk from Donna before she gives her head a quick shake, as if to dispel the gloom and looks back up at him. "So, if you don't mind me asking... Do you just look cool as hell or is there more to it?"

Another chuckle, then Prabhakar taps the outer corner of his eye with his index finger. "I also do not see things quite as others do, in a more literally sense," he says. "I--see in heat, mostly. It provides an--interesting--perspective on things." Another joke, and a better one--at least he thinks it's better. And accurate, too! Always a plus. "Other than that, I believe--I merely look 'cool as hell'," he adds. "I--hope that is not disappointing."

"Disappointing?? No! Not at all." Donna chuckles softly. "It's really amazing actually! What about things like seeing details, or reading and writing..." Her head tilts off to one side curiously as she pushes another piece of black hair behind her ear.

"I do not see the same details you do," Prabhakar says, lifting one shoulder a few millimeters. "But that is not to say I do not see detail." He smiles and motions toward her hair. "For example, I cannot see the color of your hair, but I can see the way the warmth from it flows off, blending into the air, carried away on the breeze..." He makes a little wiggly, wavy motion with his fingertips, as if to emphasize the warmth emanating from her hair. "I cannot see the color of your skin, yet I can see the way the warmth flushes just beneath the surface..." Another wiggly movement of fingers, this more a gesture to her face, as if miming the blood vessels that pump blood. "I do not understand color, I do not understand the look of skin basking in sunlight--yet I see so much beauty. There is still so much wonder to behold, and so few can see it.  I feel--blessed for it." A beat's pause, as he gathers himself. That's one part of his life he hasn't ever really been able to share, to discuss--so few people have seemed to care. It's nice to have someone truly interested. "But, ah--yes," he says, reaching for the newspaper, "reading--that is, perhaps sadly, not so interesting. It is merely Braille." A grin tugs at his lips as he slides the newspaper across the table.

Donna listens and one eyebrow slowly rises higher and higher as he speaks. "Prabhakar that's... Wow. That's amazing! I cannot even imagine being able to see on that level!" One can just hear the smile in her voice. Her hand reaches across, fingertips lightly running over the raised dots on the paper. "I never could figure out how it worked. I mean... They aren't in the shapes of the alphabet... So..." Her eyes lift to his. "Is it hard to learn?"

"It is its own language," says Prabahakar, "so it is no more or less difficult to learn than another, though it does require some--lateral thinking, at times. And yet, it is also easier than it may seem at first glance." Leaning forward, he puts his fingers on the paper, searching, trying to find the--there it is. "Ah, the Presidential address regarding the attacks. Once you start to get used to it, you can see how the letters are formed.  Here is the speech itself, for example." Another smile, and he adds, "It is like any other skill--writing in a language, reading, and so on. As with any skill, it only requires practice."

Donna grins, listening to his explanation of the language and how it works. "If you would be willing to teach me, I'd love to learn." Her fingers run over the page again before she smiles and sits back in her seat. "Would you care for another coffee or a bite to eat? My treat this time." She's rather enjoying the company after the night she had.

"I would be delighted to teach you," Prabhakar says, leaning back in the chair. "And--I suppose I could be talked into some more coffee, yes, or perhaps sharing a little bite to eat. I will leave it in your capable hands to decide.  That is the least I can do." And with that, he gets to his feet again, so he can help her out of her chair and accompany her into the establishment. He's finding it quite a nice way to spend a morning--sedate, relaxed even. Surprisingly pleasant.

Donna smiles up at him. "Thank you. We can arrange something after breakfast." When her chair is pulled out, she grins and stands.. "Do you have a favored pastry or breakfast food?" A piece of hair is tucked back behind her ear and then she stretches before heading for the door.

"Not as such," says the gargoyle-esque mutant, following her to the door, then half-turning so he can stretch his tail out to grasp the door handle and pull the door open for her. She seems to enjoy that kind of thing, and he's not above doing a little--impressing. "I have been curious about much of American foods, so I am willing to try anything you wish," Prabhakar tells her, offering another smile.

Donna laughs softly as he uses his tail to open the door, beaming up at him. "So cool!" She steps through the door, still giggling. "Really? Oh wow! Milkshakes, fries, apple crumble, garlic-butter shrimp scampi..." She begins listing off a myriad of foods and drinks. "We're so going to have to get you out and eating more!"

"I have actually had some fast food, so I am very curious about the delicacies, the--the unique foodstuffs." Prabhakar puts his hands behind his back, beneath the wings, cupping his hands. "Things like this shrimp scampi you mentioned, or 'grits', or pizza." A soft chuckle, then, "I realize it may not seem a unique foodstuff, but every place does it so very differently--you can walk down the block and find so many distinct versions." He shrugs his left shoulder a bit, canting his head toward that side.

One they reach the counter, Troia kneels and looks through the display case of various pastries available. "Sushi. You just have to try sushi... And pizza is certainly doable!" Her nose wrinkles a little. "Never tried grits. Couldn't get past the way they look." Finally, she stands. An order for the same coffees they had earlier as well as a chocolate éclair and a piece of baklava is placed. "Tell ya what, Prabhakar. You make a list of the foods you wanna try. We'll check 'em off one by one. Deal?"

That sounds pretty good to Prabhakar, really, and he gives a short nod. "This--sounds like a fair exchange, eh? Though, one could think I was taking advantage of your generosity." The last added with a grin, the tone of his voice hopefully making it clear that it's all in good humor. "I believe I will have to come up with something in addition to teaching you Braille. Most of my non-medical knowledge relates to history, so, hmm."

Donna grins up at him. "No wor.." And then she blinks. "Actually... There might be something but I'd rather not discuss it here if that's alright..." Their order is set on the counter and after Donna pays, she holds his coffee out and then collects the rest of it. "And I'll understand if it's something you'd rather not do." She once more heads for the door, gears obviously turning in her head about something.

Brow arching, Prabhakar takes the coffee with a thankful nod, then follows the young woman to the door. As he opens it for her, he says, "I must confess, I am most--curious, now." It's not often he hears that sort of thing, after all. He's definitely intrigued, and is trying to think of something she could possibly request that would be so secretive. A sip of his coffee is taken as they get back outside, and he waits for her to take the lead. Sit down and talk about other things, or find a better pace to discuss whatever thoughts churn in her head.

When they get outside, Donna scoots her chair around so she's sitting right next to him. "I have a friend who may... occasionally... Needs medical attention with a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy..." Her eyes lift to his and she watches him carefully, even opening herself up to monitor his emotions.

"This--'friend'--might or might not occasionally require medical assistance, kept off official records?" replies the gargoyle-ish mutant, making sure he's heard her correctly. Pursing his lips for a moment, Prabhakar thinks about it, then says, "It--would not be the first time." That's said carefully, though with no less a smile than usual. Switching the coffee to his left hand, he uses the right to fish in an inner jacket of his coat, pulling out a business card. "This is the clinic where I work. They do not need to make an appointment, though that would help them.  They do not have to give more information than they wish." The card is offered to the young woman, and on it is the address of the free county clinic in Hell's Kitchen.

Donna nods her head. "Very much off the records..." When he admits that he's done such before, her eyes close and she sighs in relief. They reopen to take the card and she turns a bright smile up to him. "I do not know that he would come into the clinic but he may call for you. If he insists that you come to him... I will compensate you to the best of my abilities." The card is slipped into her jean pocket and she smiles again. "Thank you. He's very important to me."

A small wave of his hand, then Prabhakar says, "I enjoy intelligent conversation, which you have already given me and yet have all but promised more in the future. That, and the aid you had already offered--I could not dare ask for more." Another smile for the young woman, to hopefully continue to show his sincerity. He's not one of those who went inti medicine looking for expensive cars and large houses. He went into it to help people, first and only.

Another sweet smile comes from Donna as she takes a sip of her coffee. The baklava is pushed towards him. "You have just got to try that! Some of the best stuff ever!" And as if to make her point, she rips a piece off and pops in her mouth.

A soft chuckle, then Prabhakar reaches out to gingerly take a piece off, complete with a slight lift of his pinky. He does have manners and a sense of decorum, after all. After popping the piece into his mouth, there are a few experimental chews, brow arching in thought. Politely covering his mouth with his hand, he says, "I must admit, it is most delightful. It is as advertised." Another smile, there, at that small attempt at humor, and he takes a sip of his coffee.

A light laugh escapes from Donna as she washes the drink down with her coffee. "I think it's one of my favorite desserts ever. The only thing that could make it better would be chocolate and I don't know that chocolate would actually go well with baklava. Honey and chocolate never seemed like it would be some sort of award winning combo, after all."

As he thinks about that for a moment, Prabhakar takes another sip of the coffee. Setting it back on the table, he says, "They might, if blended together beforehand; the sweetness of the honey is different than the sugary nature of commercial-grade chocolate, so it might be interesting, if nothing else." A grin, and he turns his palms upward in something similar to a shrug. "At least, it would be worth the experiment, I think. At the worst, you learn something new to /not/ do." His brows lift, there.

Another sip of her coffee is taken before she nudges the éclair towards him. "Also a wonderful a dessert! Or... breakfast food." Ahem.

A piece is cut from the éclair, then Prabhakar leans forward as he brings the piece up. A moment spent chewing, and his brows lift again, from enjoyment in the pastry. "Very good, I must say. And it /does/ make a wonderful breakfast food." He inclines his head a little, smiling at her.

Donna chuckles softly, taking another bite of the baklava. "Oh! I should give your address of the Embassy. That way if you need anything, you can reach me or my sister, Diana." This said as if it suddenly just hit her. She's, apparently, having one of /those/ days.

"That would be most convenient," Prabhakar agrees, then adds, "And I live above the clinic, so you can reach me or leave word for me there, day or night. Should you require--medical attention." Including the type at three in the morning, off public books. That kind. His smile is the knowing sort, meant to imply just that.

That brings Donna's eyes back to him and she smiles warmly. "That really does mean a lot to me." She leans up to place a quick, sister like kiss on his cheek before settling back down in her chair and grabbing a napkin. "You got a pen on you?" Not something she usually has need of so she doesn't have one on her at the moment.

"Actually, I am not sure..." says Prabhakar, patting his jacket. "I /believe/ I took one from the counter--ah." He reaches his left hand into his jacket, and comes out with a red and white ballpoint pen. "N.Y. County Clinic" is written along the side, and below that the address. "Ah, I did take it. It is not often I have to sign something, and I am one of those who forgets to put pens back..." A bit of a sheepish aspect comes to his smile, there, as he hands the pen to Donna.

The address and phone number of the Embassy is written down as well as her name and Diana's name. "You're the only doctor I know that doesn't always have a pen on them." This is said with a little chuckle as she shakes her head and hand both over to him. "You need anything, day or night, you find me."

The pen and napkin both are tucked away into an inner pocket, as Prabhakar says, "I will remember this, thank you. I will have it scanned and printed in Braille when I can--which should be this evening, I believe.  Also, I do not usually have a pen because I do not usually sign things." A flick of his brows, there, accompanying the wider smile. Though technically not blind, he comes across the need for a pen not much more often than a truly blind person would. A beat's pause as he purses his lips and looks up at the sky, then he looks back to Donna, saying, "It seems I have lost track of the time, even if for only wonderful reasons. Would you care for that tour of the clinic--and the chance to see my wings in use?" A grin as he rustles his wings a little, as if in emphasis.

Donna actually face-palms. "I should have thought of that. I'm sorry." Her cheeks flush brightly as she shakes her head. When he looks to the sky, she follows his gaze before his question makes her chuckle. "I'd absolutely love it!" And as if to show she's ready, the rest of her iced coffee is quickly downed and she stands to gather the trash and throw away.

"No, there is no need to apologize. I can think of no better reasons for tardiness," says Prabhakar, finishing off his coffee as well as he gets to his feet. Once everything is squared away, complete with his giving a quick wipe of the table with a napkin, he'll lead her to a spot not far away, so he can take her into his arms and spread his wings. A few people start backing away--who knows if he's one of those who shoot lightning bolts from his eyes and fireballs from his backside!--he crouches lowly--and with a strong beat of his wings, they take to the air!

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New York City - Midtown Manhattan - Hell's Kitchen - NY County Clinic

As one enters the free clinic from the street, there's a small waiting room to one's right filled with three rows of metal, padded chairs that look like they were already old decades ago. The carpet is an off-white, the kind to hide smudges and other stains. In the far upper corner is a television that hasn't worked in months. It matches the walls, showing an attempt at giving an over-all clinical yet welcoming feel. Directly across from the glass doors are a pair of swinging wooden doors that lead deeper into the building. To one's left is a curved reception desk, wooden with a blonde stain finish, that projects out from the wall for about five feet, then curls around and follows to the left for about fifteen feet. Behind the reception desk are chairs and computers for four people, and along the inner wall are shelves, another small desk, and a photocopier/fax machine combination. Following the reception desk, it stops about three feet from the side wall, allowing passage behind it. Nearby are two doors, one leading to a tiny employee lounge, the other leading deeper into the building.

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His launch into the air was accompanied by a squeal from Donna. She can fly on her own but there's something entirely different about it when you have someone else doing the flying for you. Needless to say, she was absolutely in awe of his wings and spent most of the flight trying to peek over his shoulder or around him to study how the worked.

There is a certain joy palpable in Prabhakar in the air, a certain elation in being in the air. He glides more than he flaps his wings, using the air currents to take them higher, to let the city be laid out below them like a model. The people become little dots, the cars become specks of color. People in skyscrapers look out the window as he banks around and between them. People are used to people flying in bright costumes, but--a gargoyle-esque one, in a /suit/, of all things (even if one obviously off-the-rack), now that's something a little bit different. He glides down into Hell's Kitchen, the dingy and dank streets slowly coming up toward them. He lands with gentleness born from years of experience, wings beating furiously at the last moments, to let him touch down with no more jarring than stepping off a curb. He pulls open the door for her, to let her precede him, and he stops at the front desk. "Sorry I am late," he tells one of the receptionists, "and I've brought a guest for a quick tour." "Not a problem, Doctor Bhattacharya," she says. "Your first appointment isn't for twenty-five minutes." Prabhakar nods and thanks her, and opens one of the doors for Donna. "I usually like to, ah, 'touch base' and make sure I am caught up on things," he tells her.

The landing is met with a smile and as she's led in, she gives a smile and a little wave to the receptionist. As she's led through the halls and the door is opened, she peeks her head around the corner to see into the room. "Understandable. I bet it gets pretty busy here. I can't even imagine how difficult it must be to keep up."

An agreeable nod, given with a smile, and Prabhakar says, "It can be quite--hectic at times, yes. But it is quite worth it in the end, I think." There isn't a whole lot to the place; it's mostly examination rooms, though the dispensary and laboratory might be interesting. The former is locked down with a lot of pills behind locked grates, but the former is large and open, with refrigerators for storing samples, a chair for the patient to sit in while blood is drawn, various bits of lab equipment that spin and shake and whir and vibrate. The nurses' station in the middle of it all is, as usual, a hotbed of activity, with nurses running around, getting preliminary work done on patients and taking records from this part of the building to that, answering phones, exchanging information mostly in acronym codes. The tour eventually gets to the employee lounge, where a young nurse dozes at a table, his arms serving as a pillow for his head. "This is where we try to relax, or--catch a nap," says Prabhakar humorously, nodding toward the dozing nurse. "These chairs are surprisingly comfortable when you have been on your feet all day. Would you care for a soda pop or a snack?" He indicates the vending machines near the door.

There's an amazing amount of attentiveness paid as he explains everything. Questions are, occasionally asked and answered. And when they finally come to the lounge and the offer is for food and drink, she gives her head a little shake. "No, thank you. I'm still full from breakfast." A smile is shot up at him. "What you do here is absolutely amazing." And she sounds, honestly, quite impressed and in awe of the man. "Thank you for letting me see it."

"It is nothing. Any more interest we can--drum up, the better." Prabhakar smiles and folds his hands behind his back, wings folding over his shoulders to interlock the small hooks at their apexes. "What is amazing is the help we receive--people donating time, money, and more. As is to be expected, medicines are--at a premium, here, and we mostly survive on the good will of patrons, or simply those who have a generous spirit." Another grin, there; he really is thankful for all the support the clinic receives.

Donna smiles. "I'd love to come down and help out some time. I am completely and utterly under qualified, though." She smirks and gives a shrug. "There might be other things I could do though... Take a few pictures of the clinic... See if, maybe, I could find someone to run an article on it. That would draw people attention and, hopefully, their generosity." She peers around a little more. "Or you could arrange events to help draw in money."

"Very good ideas all," replies Prabhakar with a nod. "As for your own help--you may be surprised how much aid you could really offer. We could always use someone to be a--a--what is the--ah, yes, a 'go-fer' for the receptionists, for example.  Even if you can indeed find someone to--run an article, that would be immensely helpful itself." That grin widens, and he adds, "There are so many ways to help--and you are more than qualified simply by being willing." Too many people aren't--but in Hell's Kitchen, that's not exactly a surprise.

A light blush touches Donna's cheeks. "Heh. Thanks." Black, shimmering hair is tucked back behind her ear. "I can run errands, certainly." And then she smirks. "Quite quickly, actually." To say the least. "I'm more than willing to do what I can." She turns to face him, grinning. "And it'll be a good chance for me to learn!"

"Then there you go," says Prabhakar. "There is so much that can be done--trust me, you will not find a shortage of ways to help. Especially if you do learn quickly." He chuckles softly, tail flicking lightly in casual comfort. He studies her a moment, watching the way the heat from the flush fades and dissipates, then catches himself and says, "You may well learn more than you expect, here. A free clinic is--a mad house, at the best of times." A lift of his brows, there, at the bit of humor that's also true.

Another warm smile is given. "I think I learn rather quickly." She gives a shrug of her shoulders before a light laugh comes from her. "I think you'll find I'm quite capable of keeping up. I can be very fast when I need to." At that, she chuckles a little and gives a small shake of her head. "I should be headed out soon. Your appointment will be here shortly if I heard right. Thank you for the wonderful company this morning though!"

"Ah, yes, you're quite right," says the mutant, unclasping his hands as he gives a short bow. "I--became distracted by one of the more intriguing conversations I have had in a while, and for that I thank you." As he smiles, he motions for her to precede him, and he'll walk her out of the lounge and through the reception area. "Your company has been most welcome, and I do so hope to get another chance to enjoy it." He glances out at the waiting area, where the people are starting to fill the chairs. Some will have appointments, but many won't. Another long day--but another fulfilling one.

Another blush flares on Donna's cheeks at the bow and she chuckles. "I know a couple guys who could take lessons from you." With his motioning, the young woman turns and makes her way to the doors. Once she gets there, she turns to give him a light hug. "I'll stop by and visit soon. With pizza!"

The hug is surprising, but not unwelcome. Prabhakar is just--decidedly unused to such things. It's not like, looking how he does, people want to get all that close to him. But, he does return the hug, complete with a light wrapping-around with his wings. When she steps back, he smiles at her, wings furling behind him. "Pizza does sound good," he says as he opens the door for her. "I will look forward to it."

The wings wrap about her and she giggles. Stepping through the door, she gives a little wave. "See you then. Take care!" And then she lifts up into the air and is gone.