<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/1rcNMma.png)</div>Varya wiped the sweat from her brow behind the clinic as she finished stitching up the knife to the gut of another ganger. It was looking like it was going to be a busy day. It was the third knife wound today. Getting up she stared at the ganger and sighed, kicking his foot as he walked by and taking off the surgical gloves to throw away.  “Get up you big baby. You’ll live. Now get out, I need the bunk from patients who are actually dying.” She ordered as she went by and returned to the front. She waved to one of the assistants as he went by. “Give him a single dose of pain killers and let him go. Don’t let him get anything else out of you. We can’t afford it. Besides maybe it’ll make sure that he stays out of trouble for a while.” She instructed as she walked by and arrived at the front desk.<br/><br/>Varya was the owner of the clinic. It was old, wasn’t very clean, and always running low on supplies but for anybody stuck in the 4th or 5th district it was the best they were going to get.  She was dressed simply, pants and bulky jacket, beneath which was a simple shirt and her concealed ballistic vest. She glanced through her papers with her golden eye to see who was next before promptly deciding to ignore them and make things easier on herself. “Alright, who’s next? And any idiot who I catch lying or trying to steal drugs is going to leave in a worse condition than they arrived in!” She called out. The one eyed ex-punk in dirty jacket and short hair did not look all that threatening but regulars in the area knew better. It took a lot to survive here, let alone run a business and enforcing her place as a neutral ground in the gang wars. More than one ganger had found themselves thrown out on their ass or with a few new holes in their body after trying anything funny at the clinic.<br/><br/>Tapping her foot she looked around. It had taken 10 years to get her clinic into what it was today but she was satisfied with it for now. Patching gangers and the rest of the down and out of the city wasn’t the most glamorous or safest job but it was good. The busy work kept her mind off of the rest of her past and let her put some of her training to use. That was if whoever was supposed to be next actually spoke up. “Right, if the person whose next doesn’t show up soon, they’re not that injured and can wait until the end of the line!” She thundered, starting to get a bit irritated as she tapped her fingers on the desk.