<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/81/6e/3e/816e3eecab099cc580f77c485e327814.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>Adrianne Lashbrook</strong></span><br/><strong>Location: </strong>Auditorium<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Everyone<br/><hr/><br/><br/>The past week had been a whirlwind of activity for Adrianne. It had started like previous weeks had, with Adrianne dressed in scrubs during an ER rotation at Cook County General Hospital as a third year medical student. She had been nearing the end of her rotation and was looking forward to her next rotation on the surgical floor of the hospital. That was not to be, as fate had intervened in the form of a new president who'd signed an executive order relegating any and all Futanari in the United States to a status as a third class citizen. Overnight, Adrianne had witnessed her status change from an accepted member of a medical team, to a suspect member of a group of people whose only crime was being born with a genetic anomaly. She couldn't control the fact that she had been born a Futanari. But she now had to face the fact that she was forever going to be seen as an outcast, and have fewer rights as an American citizen than an Undocumented Immigrant.<br/><br/>Adrianne knew she couldn't stay in her med school program, and she needed to find a place where people like her were welcomed, rather than shunned. Fortunately for Adrianne, her girlfriend Danielle had heard of a refuge for Futanari, and had offered to take Adrianne there using her family's transportation network. Adrianne had been surprised initially, as she hadn't known that Danielle's family was wealthy. She was even more surprised to learn that Danielle's father, a high powered lawyer in Chicago, had been working in secret on funneling money to the refuge compound, while also working on fighting for Futanari Civil Rights in court. When she asked about it, Adrianne saw Danielle smile and blush. It was easy to put two and two together. Since the two had started dating, Danielle had seemed so much more easygoing and carefree. She'd likely put a bug in her father's ear when she'd heard about the plight of the Futanari through Adrianne.<br/><br/>When she finally arrived at the refuge compound, Adrianne had been shocked to see an armed contingent of police near the entrance, stopping all vehicles requesting entry. Adrianne was worried that she'd be arrested within sight of sanctuary, and began to tremble. Danielle placed her hand on Adrianne's back and rested her head on the woman's shoulder. "Don't worry, Drea. This is still America. Money talks louder than you may think."<br/><br/>Danielle appeared to have been correct in her assessment. Their vehicle was stopped long enough for the driver to flash a security badge at the officer stopping them. When that didn't suffice, Adrianne watched the driver hand the officer an envelope. The officer checked the envelope, smiled, and waved the vehicle through. "Too bad for officer greedy, there," Danielle chuckled as the vehicle pulled into the gate. "That envelope contains a dye pack. He's got about 15 seconds before...." Danielle pulled her hands apart and made an exploding noise. Adrianne laughed, feeling the tension bleed out of her. She knew Danielle may have trouble leaving the compound, but she was the daughter of a wealthy, powerful attorney. Such people lived by different rules than people like Adrianne.<br/><br/>Adrianne was happy that the refuge allowed Danielle to stay long enough to see her through Orientation and Room Assignment. She was shocked when the refuge allowed Danielle to spend one last night with Adrianne before she had to leave. Adrianne made sure it was memorable for Danielle. And, with a tearful farewell, she'd watched the woman she loved get picked up by a private helicopter and fly away and out of her life. Adrianne became sullen, depressed, and withdrawn for a few days after that, trying to settle into her new routine while subsequently missing Danielle.<br/><br/>That routine was interrupted one morning by an announcement that all residents and staff were to report to the main Auditorium. In her short time at the refuge, they'd never gathered in such a fashion. Adrianne joined the crowd shuffling into the Auditorium, seeking out the few people she'd met that seemed to want to befriend her. Both were Futanari like her. One named Kim, and the other named Ricky. They'd worked to make Adrianne feel welcome, but it was a difficult transition for Adrianne. Still, she was grateful to them for reaching out, and she didn't push them away.<br/><br/>Before the announcement by the director could begin, Adrianne felt her cell phone vibrate inside the pocket of her pajama bottoms. Looking at the screen, she saw a text message from Danielle, which surprised Adrianne. Dani hadn't texted her, but had been sending nightly emails detailing her day, how her rotations were going, and what her father was doing. Adrianne looked forward to them with both joy and sorrow. Still, she was glad that Dani wanted to keep in touch.<br/><br/><em><strong>Drea, I'm so, so sorry. My dad just told me. He's going to fight this. Believe me, they can't do this! It's unconstitutional! God, I'm so sorry. I love you, and I'll discuss more in my email tonight. Dani</strong></em><br/><br/>Adrianne was confused by the text, and felt a foreboding sense of dread bubbling in her gut. She had a feeling something terrible had just happened, and her fears were confirmed as the director stepped up to the lectern and pronounced that Futanari were being classified as a genetic disease. As if that weren't bad enough, Adrianne listened in horror as the director announced that the UN had declared that any Futanari held in prison would be subjected to medical testing. Her stunted medical training rebelled at the very thought of infringing on the body autonomy of another human being. How anyone could so casually decide to engage in such a horrendous practice, Adrianne couldn't even begin to guess.<br/><br/>The news that an influx of Futanari refugees would be admitted did not surprise Adrianne. Under such draconian treatment, she'd have been surprised to hear that there wouldn't be an influx. The idea of sharing a room did not particularly appeal to her, but to learn that she could share with staff and not another Futanari helped alleviate that particular anxiety. And she welcomed the news that the centre would be a closed campus, halting any Futanari from leaving. Adrianne had no plans to do that any time in the foreseeable future.<br/><br/>Adrianne stopped listening when the director started talking about the day to day minutiae. The news about the medical testing had upset her far more than she could ever have expected. She thought of her former classmates and colleagues at Cook County General Hospital, wondering if any of them would ever violate the sanctity of the doctor/patient privilege to subject one of their patients to such an atrocity. The fact that she couldn't answer that question with 100% certainty shook her to her core.<br/><br/>Adrianne found herself unconsciously falling into step behind Ricky and Kim as the auditorium began to empty. She was lost in thought, grieving for those who were unable to make it to the refuge and could have been subjected to the type of tortures that were just deemed legal. As the trio sat down in the mess hall for breakfast, Adrianne grabbed her cell phone from her pocket and began composing a text to Danielle.<br/><br/><em><strong>Dani. This is a tragedy. An absolute, unmitigated disaster. I'm so grateful to your family for helping me get here. I don't know what I'd have done without you all. Tell your father that we all wish him luck in his legal endeavors. And if you run into any Futanari during your rotations, please, please send them our way. I love you, and I miss you. Drea</strong></em><br/><br/>Adrianne looked up as she heard Ricky's voice. Her tone of voice seemed rather laissez-faire, but Adrianne knew that the woman had to be seething with anger under the surface. "I don't think that'll happen, Ricky," Adrianne said. "Roberta has friends in some powerful positions. Besides, they wouldn't dream of unleashing such a horrendous plague upon the populace. Our 'disease' could spread." Adrianne spat the word disease with all the disgust and vitriol she felt. "But if they try, my bow and quiver will be on the front line. I only wish my parents were able to ship my rifle to me. Mustn't let the genetic freaks arm themselves.... Cowards."<br/><br/>At Ricky's question regarding potentially bunking together, Adrianne shook her head imperceptibly. "Much as I appreciate the offer, Ricky, I don't know yet. Frankly, I don't know if I could bunk with anyone, really. I'll let you know."<br/><br/>Adrianne nearly jumped when she felt her phone vibrate. She'd forgotten that she'd been holding it.<br/><br/><em><strong>Drea, You know I will. Just promise me you'll stay safe. Don't do anything stupid. I want to see you again when it's safe. And if you can't come to me, I will absolutely come to you. My dad is in court today, arguing the constitutionality of the latest executive order. And Crystal is in court in New York arguing the same thing. I won't lie, though. The medical testing shook me. I can't help but think of that compound as a concentration camp, anymore. Those who fail to learn from history.... I have to go. I'll write to you tonight. I love you. Dani</strong></em><br/><br/>Adrianne closed her eyes and, for just a brief moment, allowed herself to feel the grief and despair she'd felt when Danielle left once more. Still, Adrianne knew the woman couldn't have stayed. She had a life to live. "Good news, though. You remember me telling you about that woman, Danielle, that I was dating? Her father and her sister are in court today, fighting this. I hope they win." Adrianne stood slowly, stretching as she did so. "Kim. Want me to spot for for you? You know I can keep that bag from moving on you. I'd offer to spar, but you know I'm a ranged fighter." Adrianne was hoping that the physical activity would help keep their minds off the disaster they'd just learned about. In the end, though, she knew that it wouldn't. Nothing would.