The young man sat in the lounge at the hospital, a magazine resting over his face as he tried to catch what little bit of rest he could. Starlight General wasn't a super busy hospital, but to say it was a slow clearly meant you'd never worked at one. Already having one surgery that morning, he was ready to retire for the day, but two days worth of follow ups and reviews to get done in<i>one</i>said otherwise.<br/><br/>"Dr. Lyrandar?"<br/><br/>A blue eye looked out from under the magazine slightly, before pulling it from his face. "Yes, Maggie?"<br/><br/>"Well, I was watching the news and was wondering if we should get a few rooms ready... you know, just in case..." The perky little nurse, pointed behind him at the television, causing the young man to lean back in his seat to look at the television in the corner of the lounge upside down.<br/><br/>"Robot..... attacking downtown," he said, almost in a confused tone. At first he thought was actually asleep, but his dreams were never this mundane. He let out a bored sigh, standing up. "Yes, Maggie. Get Bobby and a few of the orderlies to help you clear some of the rooms on the third floor. I'll go get on the line and tell the ambulances to get warmed up." Watching the nurse hurry out of the room, the doctor followed after her, but turned down the opposite direction of the hallway, heading towards his office. Claude Lyrandar, the name etched on the door, was the man in question. A piece of white paper was taped on the glass from the inside, with a crisp lettering reading "And Jack!" caused him to frown as he opened the door, tearing it off and dropping it in the trash as he fluidly moved behind the desk and pulled out a black messenger bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he headed back out of the office, beelining it to the elevator towards the garage. He briskly walked past the car that was in the parking spot named for him and opened the door to a rough-looking sedan in the quiet corner of the parking lot. His pristine white jacket was tossed inside and replaced with a padded black jacket more akin to a motorcycle rider. A pair of similar pants were pulled over his scrubs and the comfortable sneakers were kicked off in place of sturdy combat boots. Climbing into the driver's seat, he started the car and peeled out of the parking garage like a man on a mission.<br/><br/>Which he was.<br/><br/>This wasn't a very common thing for him, but he'd been doing it as a side venture every now and again. And seeing as it was a robot of some sort, he wasn't even sure he would be able to manage to do anything useful aside from assist from the sidelines and reduce casualties.<br/><br/>But he had to do something, right?