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Post by ollieander on Aug 30, 2017 16:21:29 GMT -8
Perhaps he was right, she figured. She hadn't placed those wounds there, nor the infection or broken bone. Her head nodded, then turned from Adeney.
"Right," she dropped her hands to her sides to stare toward the floor instead, "Of course..."
A pause.
"...Do you think that... the cause of a disease could be the cure to another?" Silvant questioned him with hesitation, curiosity in her voice. As smart as she was, her knowledge lacked in most parts of the medical field. "Maybe it's already true- we do use leeches for bloodletting, yet... infections are prone to the areas more often than not..."
The doctor took a breath and removed the mask from her head, strings of stray hair curled out from the sloppy bun on the back of her head.
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Post by black379 on Aug 30, 2017 17:08:51 GMT -8
Adeney splayed out his hands in a small shrug. He always kept his eyes fixed on Silvant's face, in case she ever looked up from her feet, to greet her with a congenial smile.
"There are plenty of doctors who wouldn't do anything to treat a patient. They're... safe."
He offered in answer, steepling his fingers as he stood confident before her.
"For all their caution, lives are still lost, sometimes. You should not fear to try something, if it may be the solution. And if you fail, then you learn. But-!"
It was a short enough lesson, though strangely ambiguous. He wondered if she pondered any particular 'affliction to cure an affliction'.
"The one thing we mustn't do... We cannot abide suffering. Torture. You understand?"
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Post by ollieander on Aug 30, 2017 17:26:06 GMT -8
Silvant caught the smile, and though it had meant well, it felt out of place for the doctor. Her eyes darted back down to the floor and she fidgeted with the fasteners on the inside of her mask.
"I do, but," she looked to Adeney with a hint of caution, "...what if it's needed to cure?"
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Post by black379 on Aug 30, 2017 22:25:33 GMT -8
He was unsure if the discussion they were having was rhetorical or not. The doctor was hesitantly curious to find out. Adeney sighed and rubbed his palms together, his face fell to a neutral expression.
"Let's put it this way: We cannot, in good conscience, permit a patient to be subject to anything worse than death."
As she looked up to him tentatively, he searched her eyes.
"What are you thinking?"
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Post by ollieander on Aug 31, 2017 16:34:12 GMT -8
That look made her turn her head downward toward her mask. She examined the cloth that covered the back of her head as if it was the focus of the conversation all along.
"...I don't think he's going to make it... I don't think a lot of people will make it," Silvant admitted, a glance passed at him. "And I feel bad they all... lay there, and just... die."
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Post by black379 on Sept 1, 2017 22:48:08 GMT -8
"We... all die."
He answered, with no pride in the fact. Watching Silvant fiddle with her headgear, Adeney took a step into the space beside her. It was important to him for the doctor to remember he was with her, whatever that looked like exactly.
"But it's good of you to remain sympathetic. At least inasmuch as you will do what you can for a patient until... well, until you can't."
Adeney thought he might change the subject, noting the girl's timidity.
"I met another physician, of sorts, just the other day. A man named Ibrahim? He said he knew you, spoke fondly. Though... he mentioned your first encounter was... 'personal'. He didn't say more."
His lips pursed and he watched her expectantly, as though eager for the answer to a question he didn't really ask.
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Post by ollieander on Sept 2, 2017 13:00:56 GMT -8
Of course the name struck her memory, how could she ever forget someone such as him? Her hand came to her stomach as she recalled the whole event. She met Adeney's eyes with little confidence, her brain already placed an implication on what Adeney thought "Personal" meant.
"I wanted to die, but he wouldn't let me," Silvant confessed, "...He gave me a second chance, and I sometimes still wonder why he bothered."
Immediately after she finished her sentence, she shook her head and closed her eyes.
"Sorry, n-no, I shouldn't talk like that."
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Post by black379 on Sept 2, 2017 22:15:53 GMT -8
Adeney still had questions. She had hardly cleared up anything, and yet introduced a whole new curiosity
Why would she want to die? Had she been in pain? Alone? Had she tried to kill herself?
"No, you shouldn't. He was right to save you."
The doctor's brow scrunched with concern. His greenish eyes looked over Silvant's face intently, like he could discern from that where she came up with all these self-defeating ideas, and quash them outright.
"Now that I know, I should thank him. But more importantly, how are you now? I did not know you had ever been so close to..."
He didn't grab her hand, but reached his own to rub her knuckles. He was never adept at showing affection, or even more innocent fondness.
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Post by ollieander on Sept 4, 2017 19:46:40 GMT -8
The doctor had grown comfortable enough with the other to let him proceed with the invasion of her personal space. Instead of reeling back or questioning him, she simply watched as the gentle and considerate motion take place. It even succeeded in calming her down; the doctor's shoulders slouched and she hummed a sigh from her nose, enough confidence built up to make eye contact.
"I'm," she stumbled over herself at first, as usual, "I'm fine now, don't worry."
Silvant removed her hand from Adeney's just long enough to tie the latches of her mask to her belt buckle, then both of them came to hold Adeney's fingers.
"He's the reason why I want to explore alternatives to medicine..."
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Post by black379 on Sept 4, 2017 20:53:14 GMT -8
As ironic as he found it, his past experience with those who said 'Don't worry' seemed always to lead to something worrisome. Adeney was amused however, as he had obviously succeeded in comforting the girl, and now allowed her to take his fingers. He even was comfortable in making a joke.
"Alternatives such as razor wire grenades?"
He allowed a smaller smile to form on his lips. Still Adeney was always careful with Silvant, and while he believed to some extent that she was 'fine', concern remained.
"What does this Doctor Ibrahim do unlike others? Unlike myself, even?"
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Post by ollieander on Sept 6, 2017 18:49:39 GMT -8
She kept her eyes from his and instead examined his fingers like a test subject; a critical brow with focused eyes, as if nothing else than Adeney was important. His joke, meant to be a playful gesture, made her face darken pink. Silvant couldn't recall a time when he wasn't speaking of a serious issue or attempting to keep her from berating herself, so such a small gesture meant more to her than she let on... She was glad to know that Adeney felt comfortable enough with her to joke, and it even softened her usual rough edge.
"Doctor..." Silvant repeated, then stifled a chortle, "I'm not sure you can call what he does... uhm... d-doctoring, doctor."
Then, her face fell from pleasant to troubled in an instant, memories from long ago rushed into her mind. With a shake of her head, they were blocked out, and she forced her attention back to the man in front of her, whose fingers she still kneaded, more out of anxiety than affection now.
"He... He brought me back, when I thought I," she trailed off a moment, spared a glance at his face then tucked her chin close to the red scarf around her neck, "I-I uhm... H-He... He has the powers of evil on his side, a-at his command even! If the abominations of Hell's deepest layers can be used to save people, then why can't-"
She cut herself short, her grip had grown tight on Adeney's fingers. Once she realized this, she softened the hold, and trailed her hands up his arms until they were slung around his neck and the side of her head could rest on his chest.
"N-Nevermind, I'm rambling again..." her voice dropped low, yet her smile returned, "The list of things you do unlike anyone else would be a better topic."
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Post by black379 on Sept 9, 2017 21:57:33 GMT -8
As he watched the girl play with and study his lanky, gloved digits, her almost cat-like mannerisms amused him. Adeney found it odd, in that nothing much truly amused him, but neither did he find it a condescending parallel. He tolerated cats, as it were. He nodded absently as the woman doctor started, but his expression lit up, brows raised in bewilderment at Silvant's accusation.
"He... commands the 'powers of evil'?"
Adeney failed to contain a sort of teasing grin. He wasn't about to propose, against all evidence, that there was no 'evil' corrupting the land just as a plague corrupts a body. But he preferred to remain grounded, lucid, and deal with inexplicable creatures and curses only as he was required to.
"I hardly think Ibrahim is-"
The taller doctor went rigid as Silvant's arms extended to hug his neck. He rarely shared his space, let alone such an intimate embrace. Their kiss - he still hadn't made heads or tails of it - overpowered his memory. His own arms placed themselves about her waist, even keeping her up as she stood on the tips of her toes to reach up to him.
"Do you really have a list?"
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Post by ollieander on Sept 10, 2017 20:32:25 GMT -8
Maybe she said too much? Perhaps she was deemed crazy enough to not be taken seriously? Whichever way, Silvant was glad for the distraction from the topic. Of course the list she had wasn't a physical one, but a mental one.
"Not an actual one..." she spoke into his shoulder before she broke her end of the embrace to replace her arms around Adeney's midsection. Here, she could stand flat on her feet again. "But... you hug better than anyone else... and you think about things before you do them..."
It felt surreal to say these things, yet her face wore a shy smile with rosy cheeks to match.
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Post by black379 on Sept 11, 2017 11:53:21 GMT -8
"I've never thought to qualify my hugging, so I'm glad to hear it."
Adeney let out a mirthful chuff and reaffirmed his hold on Silvant as she settled on her heels. He let his chin rest atop her head. A passing nurse reminded him that they were still standing in the hallway. Which was no issue, save for his own, and presumably Silvant's, social irritability.
"T-that's the problem, isn't it. If you can't think before you act, what are you relying on? It doesn't seem reliable."
Talking was enough of a distraction that he could still hug her, even as anyone who passed by may or may not have looked at them. And for the girl's sake, it wasn't so demanding a sacrifice.
"Tell me more."
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Sept 13, 2017 21:01:41 GMT -8
Villon had no idea what the boy was saying, and he grumbled as a response. He didn't know much languages except for English and Scandanvian, and he seemed a bit prejudice towards those that spoke a language he didn't know. He would assume he was talking behind his back, which in turn made his brow furrow. But, the boy was helping him, and he could only sigh and be grateful for his assistance. Taas's hooked foot around his the back of his knee gave him a sudden fright, causing him to limp slightly quicker before going at a quicker pace. "Bloody-! This ox can't move quicker than a wee turtle, lass!" Villon chuckled lowly at the comical action, bringing a smile to his face, a similar toothy smirk formed on his face, though it soon diminished as they slowly began waddling inside. (Switch to Sanatorium..?) /Ulysses/ Another time, he would've dropped the man calling himself Villon onto the ground and huffed off and away to leave the bleeder to his fate. German his foot. The second guess from the woman and his own common sense stopped him, and he looked up at her, his eye narrowed even as he shook his head at both of them. Close, closer, but no. He halted at the stairs, tired slightly from lugging the big man all on his own, and watched the white-hair's eye monitor him in exchange and- Oh he did not like the way this was progressing. It was like she was trying to figure something out about him, something that her wolfish smile seemed to suggest he would not like. And Ulysses didn't even know what it was, but he knew that something was going on in there. Logically, there was only one course of action he could take- get out and get out as fast as possible. He knew the boy was somewhere in town, and if he could just find him, he could get on with his day. And have an excuse to ignore this new woman. The hooking of his knees made him stagger for a moment at the steps, but he regained his footing easily enough, and looked at her shaking his head. No, they were fine, no need to trip them, really. His eye bored into hers as he started up the stairs carefully, trying to figure her out. He really couldn't, and it was starting to make him wary. Pulling aside to let two others pass, he habitually signed out a message for them both, as they arrived at the threshold. It was the start of his escape, and the shield on his arm glinted in the light, the wolf howling above some droplets of blood, and in the corner, a small blue belt, the emblem of a saint in the middle and engraved with words, seemingly French around it: 'Honi soit qui mal y pense.' Something like "I know the person up front, but should really get going after I see you in. Chores, laundry."[Entering from the Hamlet Streets : Taas, Villon, Ulysses] /Taas/ Taas clucked her tongue as she entered the Sanitarium, pointedly echoing in the chilling vastness of the stoney structure. Granted, that might well have been the queer agoraphobia kicking in from her innate fear of buildings so destined to hold the ailed and dying. Tended to the intellectuals of the world... It was never a reassurance to smell the acrid aromas of antiseptics and medicines and balms and all manner of thinly veiled poisons. Still, she was in good company. Admittedly, one stranger and a badly damaged comrade was hardly something to rely on in the face of White Coats and needles. But: Company, all the same. "Yeah-yeah, y'not convincing no-one, chummer." She scoffed giving a taunting jab at one of his wounds, just enough to make a point of her power at the moment, as she ambled up to the desk. She snatched the paper Ulysses gave her, though didn't bother reading it for some time. "Tell me, Mute: y'got anyone t'talk for ya? Making me bloody nauseous and annoyed." Taas grumbled as she cast an occasional glance to the paper before she arrived at the counter, jabbing a thumb behind her without looking at whomever may be there. "The big chuckle with the ax got bummed by an explosive: Shrapnel shards, big, small pieces. He needs patchin. Now-like." The Pale-haired Merc explained curtly, as she set a hand on the desk and flapped the piece of paper straight so she might read it proper. Giving a glance to Ulysses on occasion, her good eye lingering on the wolf's regalia for a moment longer before squinting at he man's scarred eye. "Chores? Co-ome on you bloody cyclopse--" She rolled her eye and bumped her wrist upside her temple, "-- The boy y'carryin's bleeding out's'got bits'o metal making him look like a wanna-be mountain chain and you're worried about your god-damned laundrey? Not. Likely." Taas stowed the paper in her shoulder pad. Looking to Villon, "Yeh, that's what was on the paper: bloke wants to trot after droppin you `ere--" She sighed and quirked her face in pain, wincing as she pulled away from the table to roll her shoulder; fixing to relieve a flare of a sore. "Ay-ay; sorry Mutes. I'm keeping you wiv me f'now... Once you got my bloody-bag set and patched, you can plod on whe'er you like. Fair? Fair." She assumed the judgement, though she new it was hardly so. // |
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