Stacking the deck

Who: Jakob
Where: Eidolon General
When: morning

"Let's start slowly now," the doctor told him, making Jakob smile a touch at the personal meaning of the words. That was exactly what he intended to do; start slow, gather the odd pieces he could shape together for his own intentions, and in time? Craft a delicate sequence of events that would either succeed at actually undoing his own earlier manipulations against Brett Trent, or get him killed.

Seated on an examination table, Jakob gave a belated nod to the doctor as he watched the gauze wind away from his arm and shoulder. He didn't have to feign a little hiss of pain, the arm was still tender beneath the bandage that was peeled off to reveal five angry red divots in his flesh. He decided, once again, that he wasn't a fan of being shot. It definitely made it high onto the list of things to avoid in the future.

"Alright, show me your basic range of movement, starting with shoulder rotation," the doctor instructed, and Jakob nodded again, setting his jaw as he rolled his arm slowly. It still ached deep in the muscle, still felt weak, but the range was there. Jakob made it look worse than it was, though, thinking that an alibi for his arm could only help to cover the indiscretions he had planned.

And that line of thought? Well, it kept him feigning, telling little lies about pain, stiffness, weakness in his fingers as he sat through the doctor's evaluation and took the chances he had to glance around the examination office. It was while he was balancing a small weight in the palm of his outstretched arm and focusing through the real pain that stretching the muscles brought that he saw his prize: a prescription pad.

Jakob had need of that pile of blank pages, but he couldn't make a move for it yet. No, this needed patience, the same as any ruse. So he sat, he waited, he dealt with the aches and flares in his arm as the doctor droned on and on about a restricted lift capacity for at least a week, about cleaning the wounds, and a hundred other things Jakob figured he already knew.

The man was still talking, making some small joke about treating a genuine hero and how he deserves a medal as well as he put his back to Jakob, crossing to the counter where the prescription pad sat. Beneath his words, Jakob could hear the scribbling of a pen on paper, and the sound meant it was time to move. He slid off the table's edge, working the buttons of his shirt closed and slipping his shoulder holster on as he took a few steps towards the doctor.

"We can fill these at the pharmacy downstairs," the doctor told him, tearing the prescription free and turning to face Jakob, "They should help to alleviate any swelling and reduce the pain, but it's key that you keep the wounds clean and apply fresh bandages daily, even if there's no seeping." The moment the prescription sheet was offered up, Jakob made his move, reaching for it with his 'bad' hand and knocking his badge from his belt.

He smiled apologetically as it clattered to the ground, taking the prescription and sighing at himself. "My apologies, doctor," he said, starting to bend down for the badge and quelling a smile as the doctor stopped him. "It's fine, Mr. Hollis," he was told, "Just remember, take it slow. Recovery doesn't happen overnight, and if you push too hard, we'll be seeing each other again soon."

Jakob nodded in understanding, waiting for the other man to bend down for his badge and smoothly laying a palm over the rest of the prescription pad. He'd been a fan of magic ever since he was a child, and learning as he grew up that it was mostly misdirection and slight of hand? Well, it dashed the allure for some children, but not for him. So he'd learned, he'd studied, and it had paid off. Granted, it took him being a dirty cop for there to be any benefit, but there was.

The pad may as well have vanished, so smooth was his lift. His angle to the doctor made it easy to swing his arm back, tuck the pad into the waist of his pants, and cover it with the folds of his shirt without so much as a change in his posture. He chuckled softly as his badge was handed back over, the doctor pointedly pressing it into his good hand and chuckling with him. "Slowly," Jakob told him, "I'll make sure I stick with the idea."

He stepped back with his legitimate prescription pinched between his fingers, holding it up and mock-saluting with it. "Thank you, doctor, I'll be in touch if there's any problems. But I'm afraid I must hurry, there's doubtlessly someone else out there who doesn't require your services any more, which means they require mine. Good day." he said, plucking his coat from the hanger on the back of the door and bustling out into the halls with a pleased smile. The explanation was mostly genuine; he did need to get to work before Sam decided to start taking calls without him. But beyond the valid reasons? Well, Jakob had just picked up the first card of what he intended to be a house of them. The rest... Evidence lockers. A real challenge, he thought smugly, tossing his coat over his shoulders and leaving the hospital behind.