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Sorry for taking so long, I was waiting to see if @Habibi359 would post a response.

This, right here, is why I asked, and the main reason that one of the rules listed in the OP reads:
Communicate. If there is any doubt as to which player is the next to post, please address this doubt OOC as soon as possible; ask if the other player intends to post rather than waiting to see if they will. In fact if you have questions in general, don't hold back: a question asked is potentially a mistake avoided.
OOC OP, rules section

This isn't intended as a personal attack on you, Th3King0fChaos, and I don't want it to come across as such, but I have been trying to keep a discussion as to who is going to post when since the RP began exactly to avoid this kind of problem. It's not just that you didn't ask whether Habibi wanted to post first, but also that no one else reacted to the question; as I mentioned before, all I got in response was deafening silence. In my experience, this kind of confusion is one of the most common causes of inactivity in RPs, because people are so prone to just wait and see rather than actually try to plan things out and get things moving.

I don't want to seem unreasonable, but I also want this RP to do well, part of which is to keep it active rather than in a state of everyone waiting for each other. So if it's not too much to ask, can we please agree that from now on, if you're in doubt, you ask? This is addressed to everyone, obviously.

And finally, at risk of repeating myself: does anyone in the clinic scene want to post before I move things forward a bit?
I'll take the deafening silence in response to my inquiry about who was next in the clinic scene as an unanimous agreement that no one wants to post. I'll move things ahead in that scene soon, then, under the presumption that no characters do anything.
The ones given false Paleblood didn't know that they were getting it, no. For most part it has been a matter of the church contaminating isolated food and water sources to infect people with the disease, but they also straightforwardly injected anyone signing up for blood treatment around the time of the start of the RP with it.
People also weren't selected for receiving false Paleblood as much as they just spread it at random. It's an experiment as much as it is an attempt to actually produce immortal Hunters to cull the scourge of beasts; there has never been false Paleblood Hunters before, and the church wants as large a sample size as possible so they can tell how well it works.
What about in the clinic scene? DrabberRogue posted last, so he's probably not up next... Aren't anyone's characters going to react to Arcturus or the fact that the hoarse man heard and reacted to Joseph? If not, I suppose I will just progress events a little further.
Eh, as long as a post is produced it's probably fine either way.
What are the plans for posts now? I imagine there probably won't be anything until the weekend, but it's probably a good idea to start figuring out who is posting first in the different scenes.

Eastern Yharnam, relatively near the Hunter's clinic, at the top of the elevator

Hunters were resilient, that much was beyond question. Victor had seen Hunters recover from absolutely horrifying injuries in the past, and he knew they healed so fast and so effectively that he had never witnessed a wound bad enough to leave a scar. Likewise he had been wounded himself, as well, since he became a Hunter, and had never really been too bothered by it. Cuts and bruises mended themselves in an instant, broken bones reassembled in mere moments... as long as they had blood in their system, even if their regenerative powers were not as impressive as that of some beasts, they were borderline invincible in the eyes of a human.
Victor had been knocked down many times before and had never really had any trouble getting back up. He had even seen a Hunter get slashed by a giant's axe at one point, flinging the poor fellow through the air while leaving a bloody gash across his body, yet even that Hunter had only taken a second to get back on his feet. Bloody, beaten and broken, Hunters fought on.

Which was why it was so thoroughly aggravating to Victor that he could not seem to bounce back this time. In his head he ignored the pain, did a little forward somersault onto his feet and immediately rushed the damn beast that had done this to him... but his body would not move. He actually could not stand back up, no matter how he squirmed and struggled to get his arms and legs underneath himself. For a brief second he panicked, having flashbacks to the events that lead to him becoming a Hunter – his first encounter with a beast, and the subsequent damage to his spine – but a simple effort to try to move his limbs in small ways was all it took to assure himself that he was not paralyzed. He could move just fine, but somehow it felt as though he had no strength left...
It was not hard to figure out why that was, of course. The fall had knocked the air he had left out of him, and trying to breathe was excruciatingly painful, with every inhalation producing what felt like little bubbles in his chest and every exhalation filling his mouth with blood. There was little doubt that at least one of his lungs had been severely damaged.
Even lying there, coughing and struggling to try to get back up, Victor could feel the Old Blood working its magic, though. He felt his shoulder fixing itself back up, he felt the wounds on his back and chest – both of which had produced sizable blossoms of blood on the back and front of his clothes, respectively – closing at a rate that was unbelievable to a human.
Damn beast... these clothes were new, and now they're ruined.

Victor had a lot of things he did not want to think about right that moment, even as those unbidden thoughts kept coming to him. Thoughts of what would have happened if, after his helpless hurtle through the air, he had landed on his head instead of his shoulder? Doubts of whether a Hunter was even capable of regenerating vital organs in the first place, or if his lungs were permanently ruined now? Even if his lungs healed, what about the blood filling them? Would he not just drown in that? Would he regenerate fast enough to stop him from suffocating? Did he even have a high enough regenerative potential to get out of this situation?
His instincts told him to run away, put some distance between himself and his enemy and buy enough time for his body to hopefully recuperate from his injuries. Between fight and flight, his lizard-brain was definitely opting for flight. But Adelicia and Raine were still over there, with the creature. He had no time.
Pushing back against the inclination to flee, Victor instead delved deep into the innate craving, nay, the need to hunt that was so integral to being a Hunter. He turned his head and looked directly at the monster – whatever it was – and willed himself to concentrate on his desire to kill. Thoughts of blood and violence, pain and death. The things this creature would do if left to its own devices, and the things he would do to it. He let the rage consume him, letting the flames of fury burn away this accursed weakness, letting it blind him to his pain. He bared his teeth in a bestial scowl, pinkish, foamy blood dripping from his mouth as he breathed angrily through his wounds.
He got his feet underneath himself and, albeit much less quickly than he wanted, started to stand back up.

Over by the elevator, the creature's attention seemed divided, on one hand being distracted by Adelicia's scream and the other seemingly recognizing Raine as the real threat out of the two. It seemed undetermined until Raine spoke, upon which its blank white eyes fixed on him. Its teeth, bared in a permanent scowl from the creature not having any lips, parted in a hoarse exhalation, its entire body turning to keep facing the Hunter, content to ignore the panicking woman for now.
Taking a quick step closer to the elevator, the monster then let out a short, high-pitched cry before rushing straight at Raine, reaching out to grab him with its empty clawed left hand, while the right one raised above its head with its saber, intending to bring it down upon Raine in a cleaving strike as soon as he was in range.
“Hear voice,” the hoarse speaker close to the door announced. “Hunter wake. Open door, Hunter.”
You're clear to post as soon as you're willing and able, yeah.
As tall as the wall it helps to scale: sixty-five feet.
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