Professional experience and natural dexterity kicked in quickly. A shallow basin was in place and a gentle touch stroked the back of the woman's hair as she retched. A cool glass of water was handed over, to allow the women to rinse her mouth.
"Rinse, then a small sip." Metarie had always found that a cool drink of water seemed to help clear her head when she didn't feel well. Keris stepped in, replacing the basin with a clean one without a word. The hospital was efficient and worked well. Keris stayed behind as Metarie moved back to Tamaya's leg to apply the medicine and finish the stitching.
In response to Tamaya's comment, she said. "All citizens are encouraged to know basic self-aid. Some know more than others. As for your arrest and hearing. I encourage you to be honest and to be respectful. Our Tomes say Marn is a haven for all well meaning people, even if they are afflicted with magic."
With that comment, Metarie tied off the last stitch and began the process of wrapping Tamaya's leg. Metarie had not answered Tasza yet. She was intentionally making him wait for her reply.
When she had finally finished wrapping the woman's leg, she fixed him with a steady look and waited for the span of a few heartbeats before replying.
"Three days to allow the stitches to set. You can, of course, make arrangements to have her transported to Seventri at Omenbryn Clinc. We'll place in her in L-1 until the decision to move her is made."The "L" rooms had locks on the outside, making it easier for guardsmen to make arrangements for patient transfers to the Omenbryn clinic, without running the risk of the patient escaping from the hospital.
"Keris, if you would, please?"
The attendant nodded and moved to unlock the wheels of the bed.
"If you will follow me to the desk, Guardsman Tasza, I'll fill out the required forms."
The Doctor is in
Re: The Doctor is in
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Re: The Doctor is in
So, it seemed that the minister needed a little more convincing. How amusing that soft and chubby mortal would be such a hard nut to crack! Navarre would place the seeds of doubt in his heart, even if she had to work through a few layers of flab to get to it. Guile would be a valuable asset to her cause, and she wasn't ready to give up on him yet.
"A cockroach may be easy to crush, but infestations are a far more complicated matter," Navarre said with a chuckle as she crossed her legs. "The cockroaches may be few and far between now, but they'll multiply if left unchecked; and once they infest your home, they'll run rampant in the dark of night and slowly destroy it from the inside. Insects are far more courageous in greater numbers, believe me."
A confrontation was inevitable. Despite her propaganda, the insurrection wasn't dying out; and Marn's dissatisfied citizens would not back down without a fight. Even if the people feared the city guard and the battle mages, that wasn't enough to stifle an uprising. The insurrection needed to be a formidable thread if the government was going to consider her more extreme suggestions. A gardener might overlook a weed or two, but an infestation couldn't be ignored. And that would be her opportunity to start spraying the poison.
She put on her well-practiced smile. "Never underestimate the power of stupidity, minister. Consider the types of people who support insurrections: the destitute, the uneducated, the filthy gutter urchins - those too stupid to make anything of their lives. They don't have the mental capacity to understand the consequences of their actions, and those who do have nothing left to lose. If they see themselves as heroes fighting against an oppressive regime, do you think they'd care that their actions might mean a one-way ticket to the chopping block? We're dealing with desperate animals. Even if this insurrection dies down, it'll take as many of us with it as it can.
Allow me to be frank with you: I will soon be making a bid for official government backing to crush these cockroaches, and I can use as many extra boots as possible. The Marn Restoration Committee would greatly benefit from a few words of support from Marn's esteemed Minister of Health."
"A cockroach may be easy to crush, but infestations are a far more complicated matter," Navarre said with a chuckle as she crossed her legs. "The cockroaches may be few and far between now, but they'll multiply if left unchecked; and once they infest your home, they'll run rampant in the dark of night and slowly destroy it from the inside. Insects are far more courageous in greater numbers, believe me."
A confrontation was inevitable. Despite her propaganda, the insurrection wasn't dying out; and Marn's dissatisfied citizens would not back down without a fight. Even if the people feared the city guard and the battle mages, that wasn't enough to stifle an uprising. The insurrection needed to be a formidable thread if the government was going to consider her more extreme suggestions. A gardener might overlook a weed or two, but an infestation couldn't be ignored. And that would be her opportunity to start spraying the poison.
She put on her well-practiced smile. "Never underestimate the power of stupidity, minister. Consider the types of people who support insurrections: the destitute, the uneducated, the filthy gutter urchins - those too stupid to make anything of their lives. They don't have the mental capacity to understand the consequences of their actions, and those who do have nothing left to lose. If they see themselves as heroes fighting against an oppressive regime, do you think they'd care that their actions might mean a one-way ticket to the chopping block? We're dealing with desperate animals. Even if this insurrection dies down, it'll take as many of us with it as it can.
Allow me to be frank with you: I will soon be making a bid for official government backing to crush these cockroaches, and I can use as many extra boots as possible. The Marn Restoration Committee would greatly benefit from a few words of support from Marn's esteemed Minister of Health."
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Tamaya Ayashe
- Outsider
- Posts: 41
- Joined: Thu Dec 22, 2011 10:55 pm
- Name: Tamaya Ayashe
- Race: shapeshifter
Re: The Doctor is in
Fortunately it had been a while since she had anything but tea. There was nothing but liquids to throw up. Afterwards, with the glass of cool water in her shaking hands, she felt somewhat better.
"Oh, I'll be honest," she replied hoarsely to the doctor. "I have no reason to lie, never did. And I doubt there is a lie that would make my situation any better."
Her leg felt better once it was wrapped up again. The searing pain had subsided to a dull, throbbing ache. She was suddenly struggling to stay awake, not because of dizziness but because of pure physical and mental exhaustion. Through the haze in her head, she could hear the doctor and the guard discuss moving her, about different hospitals and whatnot. As things were clearly out of her hands, she closed her eyes and turned her head away. As long as she was allowed to sleep, she could not be bothered to care.
"Oh, I'll be honest," she replied hoarsely to the doctor. "I have no reason to lie, never did. And I doubt there is a lie that would make my situation any better."
Her leg felt better once it was wrapped up again. The searing pain had subsided to a dull, throbbing ache. She was suddenly struggling to stay awake, not because of dizziness but because of pure physical and mental exhaustion. Through the haze in her head, she could hear the doctor and the guard discuss moving her, about different hospitals and whatnot. As things were clearly out of her hands, she closed her eyes and turned her head away. As long as she was allowed to sleep, she could not be bothered to care.
Re: The Doctor is in
Tasza had let his prejudice get the best of him. Metarie Sehkhara was an important person to his captain. The longer the Doctor waited to reply, the more thin lines of sweat drizzled down his back and the more his stomach roiled. Acidic bile burned the back of his throat and Tasza stiffened further, if such a thing were possible, as the Doctor fixed her gaze on him. He was sure word would get back to the Captain about him. She had taken him to task with an phrase he'd heard from the Captain in the past. Though she had spoken to the prisoner, he just knew it was for him.
"Our Tomes say Marn is a haven for all well meaning people, even if they are afflicted with magic."
"Ma'am," he replied to the Doctor's instructions. Retreating into his training was a natural reaction. Tasza followed after Metarie and waited as she completed the requisite paperwork.
"Thank you, Guardsman Tasza." Metarie offered the Guardsman a smile. She knew, from her conversations with Cam, that the Guard were appreciated on one-hand and reviled on the next. "You do your duty well." It was the nicest thing she could think to say, considering she did not care for his attitude.
Tasza bowed stiffly and left as quickly as he could.
"Our Tomes say Marn is a haven for all well meaning people, even if they are afflicted with magic."
"Ma'am," he replied to the Doctor's instructions. Retreating into his training was a natural reaction. Tasza followed after Metarie and waited as she completed the requisite paperwork.
"Thank you, Guardsman Tasza." Metarie offered the Guardsman a smile. She knew, from her conversations with Cam, that the Guard were appreciated on one-hand and reviled on the next. "You do your duty well." It was the nicest thing she could think to say, considering she did not care for his attitude.
Tasza bowed stiffly and left as quickly as he could.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Re: The Doctor is in
"Dr. Sehkhara may be noted as having magically-leaning tendencies throughout her work at the Marn Hospital. Suspicions of pushing Astral-corrupted medicines toward patients when non-magical alternatives exist is evidenced by the lack of parikethanol with oxycilliton with relacements such as ineffective dosages of lone parikethanol and orakitin. Her obvious lack of comp--"
Guile's writing stopped there as Lady Navarre went on about the growing resistance movement. His inability to focus on smashing Metarie with an iron political fist was a first for him. Normally when patients spoke to him, very little information was retained in his head. He had always been very bad with names for instance while working in the hospital. If any person was introduced to him, he usually forgot who they were if he ever saw them again. If he remembered, one of the only things he remembered about a person was what ailment he had cured during their hospital visit.
Guile was not an individual who often cared for the public as a whole. He did not become a doctor to help people, although every government article that mentioned his name and the word "doctor" would suggest otherwise. Lady Navarre was talking about the safety of the heads of the city, the aristocracy and political kings and queens that were the only thing holding the city from a chaos that he liked to ignore. The way she told it, the city had gathered a fungus that was difficult to eradicate with one small action as he'd suggested. And, beyond that, she would be requesting government backing to take care of the problem.
The doctor turned to look at her, brushing a bit of dirt from his beige coat absently.
"Government backing? Hm.." It seemed a bit extreme from his perspective, as he was so far removed from the streets of Marn that he had tasted very little of the problem she spoke of. "Let me get you those inflammatories," was all he said, and he opened the door and shut it behind him.
He walked down the hallway toward the storage room where medication stocks were kept. Briefly he passed by Metarie and the guardsman, but he didn't notice them. Was the situation with the Marnian underground really so out of hand that the government would need to step in? Just how bad was it? Guile knew about the recent Vitiable Paragon editions being a bit... skewed, but he didn't have the patience to really read through them. He had a tendency to be blissfully unaware of the way the public felt about things, especially Marn's lower citizens. He was well aware that citizens who were not part of high society tended to dislike him and his actions, but he had always tried to explain to any who asked that his actions were for the good of the community and the good of Theogios. No matter what he seemed to say, there were those of little status that accused him of throwing his weight around. He'd been described as a "fat cat" who enjoyed his tuna fish a little bit too much.
It was a frustrating problem, but he had never thought it could come to violence. Lady Navarre sparked that idea into his head, and the thought of lowly rats creeping into his home to stifle his influence one night put something like fear into him. He grabbed a bottle of 350mL parikethanol and returned to the exam room in a couple minutes.
He sighed as he entered the room, a sign of mental defeat. "I must regret that this is a necessary measure, but consider me an ally to your cause. I may have some sway over other ministers, but I cannot promise a Judge to agree with what might seem extreme," he explained. "We will insure the safety of Marn's good citizens, and that is a noble cause, I'd agree." He handed her the bottle of pills, along with dosage information on a small piece of parchment.
Guile's writing stopped there as Lady Navarre went on about the growing resistance movement. His inability to focus on smashing Metarie with an iron political fist was a first for him. Normally when patients spoke to him, very little information was retained in his head. He had always been very bad with names for instance while working in the hospital. If any person was introduced to him, he usually forgot who they were if he ever saw them again. If he remembered, one of the only things he remembered about a person was what ailment he had cured during their hospital visit.
Guile was not an individual who often cared for the public as a whole. He did not become a doctor to help people, although every government article that mentioned his name and the word "doctor" would suggest otherwise. Lady Navarre was talking about the safety of the heads of the city, the aristocracy and political kings and queens that were the only thing holding the city from a chaos that he liked to ignore. The way she told it, the city had gathered a fungus that was difficult to eradicate with one small action as he'd suggested. And, beyond that, she would be requesting government backing to take care of the problem.
The doctor turned to look at her, brushing a bit of dirt from his beige coat absently.
"Government backing? Hm.." It seemed a bit extreme from his perspective, as he was so far removed from the streets of Marn that he had tasted very little of the problem she spoke of. "Let me get you those inflammatories," was all he said, and he opened the door and shut it behind him.
He walked down the hallway toward the storage room where medication stocks were kept. Briefly he passed by Metarie and the guardsman, but he didn't notice them. Was the situation with the Marnian underground really so out of hand that the government would need to step in? Just how bad was it? Guile knew about the recent Vitiable Paragon editions being a bit... skewed, but he didn't have the patience to really read through them. He had a tendency to be blissfully unaware of the way the public felt about things, especially Marn's lower citizens. He was well aware that citizens who were not part of high society tended to dislike him and his actions, but he had always tried to explain to any who asked that his actions were for the good of the community and the good of Theogios. No matter what he seemed to say, there were those of little status that accused him of throwing his weight around. He'd been described as a "fat cat" who enjoyed his tuna fish a little bit too much.
It was a frustrating problem, but he had never thought it could come to violence. Lady Navarre sparked that idea into his head, and the thought of lowly rats creeping into his home to stifle his influence one night put something like fear into him. He grabbed a bottle of 350mL parikethanol and returned to the exam room in a couple minutes.
He sighed as he entered the room, a sign of mental defeat. "I must regret that this is a necessary measure, but consider me an ally to your cause. I may have some sway over other ministers, but I cannot promise a Judge to agree with what might seem extreme," he explained. "We will insure the safety of Marn's good citizens, and that is a noble cause, I'd agree." He handed her the bottle of pills, along with dosage information on a small piece of parchment.
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Fathia Asim Mahiri
- Outsider
- Posts: 9
- Joined: Tue Jan 17, 2012 12:24 am
- Name: Fathia
- Race: human
Re: The Doctor is in
Navigating the kitchen was easy enough when the layout of the room as well engrained into her mind as it was. Two steps forward was the rack of dried and drying mugs that held any number of beverages that The Drunken Rat was well known for. To her left would be the washing basin for those mugs and beyond that would be her mother's carboys and stills bumbling away as the yeast from her father's bakery turned sugar into alcohol. Behind her were shelves of dried fruits, honey from Shimian farmers and cured meats that were brought in by hunters looking to trade for fresh pint. If she could concentrate, she could even identify the many ingredients by texture and smell, but on a day such as this when the noise from the busy front room spilled back into the kitchen making it hard to count her footing or avoid the very pregnant belly of her sister, Fathia kept bumping into things.
With a crash, some of those mugs went flying off the rack and hit the floor. They shattered into tiny pieces and her mother let out a swear in her native tongue, followed immediately with a prayer to Theogios for forgiveness. The cost would come out of her pay and as a result it would mean less food on the table or no new shoes for the little ones.
Before another costly accident could happen, her mother helped her properly adjust her hijab and sent her out into the city with a wicker basket and a handful of bishani. She could go to the market and see what fresh fruit was in. She could go see if her father or grandmother needed help or, if she so pleased, she could even go sweep floors at the temple, she just needed to get out of the way.
After pocketing the money to keep it out of sight from any would-be criminal that might think to rob a little blind girl, she turned her back to the glare of the bright sunlight that replaced the black of the tavern with a foggy whiteness and headed west down Main Street. She walked past the busy store fronts with customers coming and going. Various smells coupled with snippets of overhead conversations helped her to track her location. The butcher shop smelled of fresh blood and left a bad taste in her mouth. The banging of a hammer on steel identified the smithy. A couple of ladies gossiped in front of of the seamstress' boutique about the new blouses on display and how lovely they would look with a good hat. At the end of the street she could hear the hourly chiming of the great bell on the tower above the temple and she knew to turn once more.
She made her way south through the less crowded streets and into the center of the city. This was one of the quieter parts of Marn. Between the courts, Justice Hall and the Memorial Park people tended to find themselves far too busy with their own business to pay much attention to the lone child picking flowers and pocketing rocks in the pleasant smelling patch of grass.
With a crash, some of those mugs went flying off the rack and hit the floor. They shattered into tiny pieces and her mother let out a swear in her native tongue, followed immediately with a prayer to Theogios for forgiveness. The cost would come out of her pay and as a result it would mean less food on the table or no new shoes for the little ones.
Before another costly accident could happen, her mother helped her properly adjust her hijab and sent her out into the city with a wicker basket and a handful of bishani. She could go to the market and see what fresh fruit was in. She could go see if her father or grandmother needed help or, if she so pleased, she could even go sweep floors at the temple, she just needed to get out of the way.
After pocketing the money to keep it out of sight from any would-be criminal that might think to rob a little blind girl, she turned her back to the glare of the bright sunlight that replaced the black of the tavern with a foggy whiteness and headed west down Main Street. She walked past the busy store fronts with customers coming and going. Various smells coupled with snippets of overhead conversations helped her to track her location. The butcher shop smelled of fresh blood and left a bad taste in her mouth. The banging of a hammer on steel identified the smithy. A couple of ladies gossiped in front of of the seamstress' boutique about the new blouses on display and how lovely they would look with a good hat. At the end of the street she could hear the hourly chiming of the great bell on the tower above the temple and she knew to turn once more.
She made her way south through the less crowded streets and into the center of the city. This was one of the quieter parts of Marn. Between the courts, Justice Hall and the Memorial Park people tended to find themselves far too busy with their own business to pay much attention to the lone child picking flowers and pocketing rocks in the pleasant smelling patch of grass.
Re: The Doctor is in
The day had not particularly started out in Soneya’s favour and unfortunately, it seemed to continue in the same way. The young girl had done more than her normal daily workload due to one of the commander’s kids being sick and somehow having managed to sully every single surface in his room – it was a disgusting progress to clean it all up, to say the least. In addition, the girl usually helping out in the kitchen had fallen ill and thus, Soneya had had to take over some of her duties as well.
After having burnt her fingers a couple of times, the head of the kitchen had kicked her out and sent her on an errand instead. The fresh air was a blessing in Soneya’s opinion and she stretched her nose into the wind to profit from her time out of the house as much as possible. She wasn’t planning on hurrying with her task either, not wanting to return to the heat reigning in the kitchen any time soon. It had been more of a pretext to get her out of the way anyway.
Apparently she was completely useless when it came to cooking or anything related thereto. Soneya had merely shrugged at the news and tried to at least feign being focused on the discussion rather than letting her mind gallop off into the nethers of hazy headaches once again.
A small patch of green caught her eye as she wandered down the street and Soneya immediately went towards it, already rejoicing in the idea of simply lying down in the grass for a few moments, breathing fresh air and letting her headache wear off a little. They were starting to be much more frequent than she’d like but alas, there was nothing she could do about it. She had been examined at a younger age but nobody had found a reason. Since then, she tried not to make a big deal out of them, especially after having been accused more than once of overdoing it and using headaches to get out of doing her job.
Arriving at the green spot, Soneya realised that she was not the only one apparently enjoying a few rays of sunlight in the grass. A young girl was making her way around the patch and randomly picked up things she then proceeded to put into her basket. Soneya had no clue what she was doing, but it was easy to see that the girl had some sort of trouble. Cocking her head to the side, she observed the young girl a little longer before carefully moving towards her.
“Hello? May I help you?”
Forgotten was her headache, not to mention her errand, as she took sight of the girl, immediately feeling a wave of compassion wash over her. Many times before, Soneya had dropped everything to run to the aid of someone in need, but generally they had actually looked as though they needed help. For a brief moment, she hesitated and wondered whether the girl really actually needed a hand and in that brief moment, a flash of pain stabbed her through the skull once more, harshly reminding her that she would do better to just quietly remain in a cold and dark place.
After having burnt her fingers a couple of times, the head of the kitchen had kicked her out and sent her on an errand instead. The fresh air was a blessing in Soneya’s opinion and she stretched her nose into the wind to profit from her time out of the house as much as possible. She wasn’t planning on hurrying with her task either, not wanting to return to the heat reigning in the kitchen any time soon. It had been more of a pretext to get her out of the way anyway.
Apparently she was completely useless when it came to cooking or anything related thereto. Soneya had merely shrugged at the news and tried to at least feign being focused on the discussion rather than letting her mind gallop off into the nethers of hazy headaches once again.
A small patch of green caught her eye as she wandered down the street and Soneya immediately went towards it, already rejoicing in the idea of simply lying down in the grass for a few moments, breathing fresh air and letting her headache wear off a little. They were starting to be much more frequent than she’d like but alas, there was nothing she could do about it. She had been examined at a younger age but nobody had found a reason. Since then, she tried not to make a big deal out of them, especially after having been accused more than once of overdoing it and using headaches to get out of doing her job.
Arriving at the green spot, Soneya realised that she was not the only one apparently enjoying a few rays of sunlight in the grass. A young girl was making her way around the patch and randomly picked up things she then proceeded to put into her basket. Soneya had no clue what she was doing, but it was easy to see that the girl had some sort of trouble. Cocking her head to the side, she observed the young girl a little longer before carefully moving towards her.
“Hello? May I help you?”
Forgotten was her headache, not to mention her errand, as she took sight of the girl, immediately feeling a wave of compassion wash over her. Many times before, Soneya had dropped everything to run to the aid of someone in need, but generally they had actually looked as though they needed help. For a brief moment, she hesitated and wondered whether the girl really actually needed a hand and in that brief moment, a flash of pain stabbed her through the skull once more, harshly reminding her that she would do better to just quietly remain in a cold and dark place.
Re: The Doctor is in
When the minister finally returned with his answer, she hid her delight behind a gentle smile. After decades of biding her time, her chance to burn the wretched weeds plaguing the city had finally come. Her gambit had succeeded, and now she was in the perfect position to strike.
Navarre had been worried when Guile stepped out without a word. Centuries of life had taught her to read people rather well, but she hadn't known Guile nearly long enough to properly assess his behavior. All she had to go on was hearsay about his difficult and selfish nature, and that didn't exactly make an appeal for the state of the city seem likely to work. Although she had tried to frame the situation as a problem for Guile and the other nobles, for a few moments she worried that he had simply dismissed her warnings and went about his business. She had a lot riding on receiving an endorsement before her gala; and if her power grab failed, she didn't know when she would be able to try again, if at all.
But fortunately, all her worrying was for nothing. Now, she needed to decide on her next course of action. Her party's preparations were already in motion, and the committee's representatives were working closely with university officials to ensure that its succeess. Posters were up around the city, and invitations mailed to guests of honor. Eliminating Modestine before the party would allow her to give an emotional appeal on his behalf, and perhaps strike fear into nobles already concerned for their safety. In her experience, the nobility had a tendency to react more defensively than the commoners when their own well-being was threatened. The death of some nameless plebian wasn't news, but a murder among their own? That was cause for alarm. A little fear goes a long way.
“I thank you for your support, minister,” Navarre said as she took the medication and rose from her seat. “Not many understand the severity of our situation as you do, but hopefully my upcoming gala will open some minds, mmm? Now if you'll excuse me, I have much work to do. I look forward to seeing you at the gala, and you can expect a personal invitation in the mail soon. Have a nice day."
On her way out, she glanced down at the bottle Guile had handed her and read over the dosage information. She'd need to remember to take these so her leg could be healed by the gala. Image was important: The last thing she wanted was to limp up to the podium like a cripple when the time came for her speech. Navarre needed to project a powerful image... which was why Isyrion's current appearance simply wouldn't do. As much as she enjoyed wearing the girl's youthful body, there wasn't anything outstanding about it. If her face wasn't on every commitee poster, everyone would have dismissed her as another pretty noble girl. Navarre had assumed the name of a goddess, so it was time she looked the part.
Navarre's smile grew as she took Modestine's arm and headed down the hallway. Her grand ascension was just around the corner.
Navarre had been worried when Guile stepped out without a word. Centuries of life had taught her to read people rather well, but she hadn't known Guile nearly long enough to properly assess his behavior. All she had to go on was hearsay about his difficult and selfish nature, and that didn't exactly make an appeal for the state of the city seem likely to work. Although she had tried to frame the situation as a problem for Guile and the other nobles, for a few moments she worried that he had simply dismissed her warnings and went about his business. She had a lot riding on receiving an endorsement before her gala; and if her power grab failed, she didn't know when she would be able to try again, if at all.
But fortunately, all her worrying was for nothing. Now, she needed to decide on her next course of action. Her party's preparations were already in motion, and the committee's representatives were working closely with university officials to ensure that its succeess. Posters were up around the city, and invitations mailed to guests of honor. Eliminating Modestine before the party would allow her to give an emotional appeal on his behalf, and perhaps strike fear into nobles already concerned for their safety. In her experience, the nobility had a tendency to react more defensively than the commoners when their own well-being was threatened. The death of some nameless plebian wasn't news, but a murder among their own? That was cause for alarm. A little fear goes a long way.
“I thank you for your support, minister,” Navarre said as she took the medication and rose from her seat. “Not many understand the severity of our situation as you do, but hopefully my upcoming gala will open some minds, mmm? Now if you'll excuse me, I have much work to do. I look forward to seeing you at the gala, and you can expect a personal invitation in the mail soon. Have a nice day."
On her way out, she glanced down at the bottle Guile had handed her and read over the dosage information. She'd need to remember to take these so her leg could be healed by the gala. Image was important: The last thing she wanted was to limp up to the podium like a cripple when the time came for her speech. Navarre needed to project a powerful image... which was why Isyrion's current appearance simply wouldn't do. As much as she enjoyed wearing the girl's youthful body, there wasn't anything outstanding about it. If her face wasn't on every commitee poster, everyone would have dismissed her as another pretty noble girl. Navarre had assumed the name of a goddess, so it was time she looked the part.
Navarre's smile grew as she took Modestine's arm and headed down the hallway. Her grand ascension was just around the corner.
Re: The Doctor is in
Navarre's smiles did little to reassure Guile that his new position on the matter was a correct one to take. There was still plenty of skepticism tangled in him. It seemed unlikely that there could be enough of the fringe extremists in Marn to cause much of a disturbance, but then again, the idea of a revolt was not a new one for Guile. He remembered, quite well, the last time citizens had tried to stand against their own government. Those individuals had been in the minority, of course, but it had been plenty enough to spark the government's response that time. Perhaps this time would be little different.
The uprising in Marn had little warning, from what he knew of it. There had been a handful of seedy individuals who wanted to bring the city down and manipulate for their own foul purposes. One man had been accused of planning to hold the lesser citizens of Marn for ransom to convince the government to grant him money, and power. These cruel people were mages, of course, and they had placed a spell on hundreds of Marnian citizens and caused them to riot. The city was out of control. Entire buildings burned to the ground, and dozens of innocents were killed. The Guard and the Battlemages were called in to protect their citizens.
The perpetrators of this foul event were caught and executed, as he would expect from a highly organized government. Later, people began to insinuate that the riots had occurred because of actions by the government, and that no magic-user had placed any spell on the evil-doers.
He called that codswallop.
This time, if Lady Navarre was correct, they would be able to catch the perpetrators planning violence early. If they could do it before turmoil came to Marn again, then Guile would back the cause by any means necessary. He certainly had the revenue stream to fund an effort to convince the Judges about what needed to happen, but he still wasn't sure if it would work.
If it prevented full blown riots, it was worth a try.
"Not many understand the severity of our situation as you do, but hopefully my upcoming gala will open some minds, mmm?"
The thought of a festival brought him out of some dark memories.
"A Gala? Oh, I do hope you've hired some of those exotic belly dancers, they have mystical hips," he smiled. It was a light-hearted poke.
She said her goodbyes, and he said, "Goodbye, Lady."
Guile cleaned off the bedside table once she had left. Then he took his parchment and the board sitting beneath it, and walked out.
He didn't immediately spot Metarie, and could not hear her voice.
Naturally, he decided to check on the copiax overdose patient, Room 2.
The uprising in Marn had little warning, from what he knew of it. There had been a handful of seedy individuals who wanted to bring the city down and manipulate for their own foul purposes. One man had been accused of planning to hold the lesser citizens of Marn for ransom to convince the government to grant him money, and power. These cruel people were mages, of course, and they had placed a spell on hundreds of Marnian citizens and caused them to riot. The city was out of control. Entire buildings burned to the ground, and dozens of innocents were killed. The Guard and the Battlemages were called in to protect their citizens.
The perpetrators of this foul event were caught and executed, as he would expect from a highly organized government. Later, people began to insinuate that the riots had occurred because of actions by the government, and that no magic-user had placed any spell on the evil-doers.
He called that codswallop.
This time, if Lady Navarre was correct, they would be able to catch the perpetrators planning violence early. If they could do it before turmoil came to Marn again, then Guile would back the cause by any means necessary. He certainly had the revenue stream to fund an effort to convince the Judges about what needed to happen, but he still wasn't sure if it would work.
If it prevented full blown riots, it was worth a try.
"Not many understand the severity of our situation as you do, but hopefully my upcoming gala will open some minds, mmm?"
The thought of a festival brought him out of some dark memories.
"A Gala? Oh, I do hope you've hired some of those exotic belly dancers, they have mystical hips," he smiled. It was a light-hearted poke.
She said her goodbyes, and he said, "Goodbye, Lady."
Guile cleaned off the bedside table once she had left. Then he took his parchment and the board sitting beneath it, and walked out.
He didn't immediately spot Metarie, and could not hear her voice.
Naturally, he decided to check on the copiax overdose patient, Room 2.
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Fathia Asim Mahiri
- Outsider
- Posts: 9
- Joined: Tue Jan 17, 2012 12:24 am
- Name: Fathia
- Race: human
Re: The Doctor is in
Drops of dew still clung to the underside of the grass blades. They moistened her fingertips as she gently weaved her hand through the lawn, feeling for the slight resistance of the flower stalk. It held a delicate firmness to it that the grass lacked. Rather than allowing itself to be mowed over by her touch, it stood firm in its resistance. It was one of the things she liked most about them, they were delicate to the touch and yet they defied being pushed aside and denied their chance to bask in the warm sun.
Fathia wrapped her small fingers around the stalk and pulled it free from the ground with a single tug. She brought the thing to her cheek so that she may feel the soft caress against her skin and to her nose that she may smell its sweet aroma. Taking in the largest breath that she could muster, she attempted to forever lodge the memory of its scent into her mind. She wanted to remember every detail so that later she could share with her grandmother and her younger siblings one of the many wonders they had been blessed with.
It wasn't until she had pocketed the flower that she had heard another person approach her. At first she had thought nothing of it as it was common enough for other school children to run through the field between their lessons, but this person was no child. From her voice, she sounded more mature and adult, but not like any teacher that she had met.
She thought that maybe she were about to be scolded for digging in the lawn and surely getting her clothes dirty, but the tone of the woman's voice was not that of anger. Besides, she had asked if she could help, not that Fathia stop playing in the grass.
"Hello."
She brushed some loose dirt from her lap and turned to face the general direction from which she thought she heard the woman's voice. Unable to see the woman, she looked upwards guessing that the woman was probably standing over her, but she couldn't be certain.
Fathia wrapped her small fingers around the stalk and pulled it free from the ground with a single tug. She brought the thing to her cheek so that she may feel the soft caress against her skin and to her nose that she may smell its sweet aroma. Taking in the largest breath that she could muster, she attempted to forever lodge the memory of its scent into her mind. She wanted to remember every detail so that later she could share with her grandmother and her younger siblings one of the many wonders they had been blessed with.
It wasn't until she had pocketed the flower that she had heard another person approach her. At first she had thought nothing of it as it was common enough for other school children to run through the field between their lessons, but this person was no child. From her voice, she sounded more mature and adult, but not like any teacher that she had met.
She thought that maybe she were about to be scolded for digging in the lawn and surely getting her clothes dirty, but the tone of the woman's voice was not that of anger. Besides, she had asked if she could help, not that Fathia stop playing in the grass.
"Hello."
She brushed some loose dirt from her lap and turned to face the general direction from which she thought she heard the woman's voice. Unable to see the woman, she looked upwards guessing that the woman was probably standing over her, but she couldn't be certain.
Re: The Doctor is in
Soneya was insecure all of a sudden. Maybe she had made a mistake approaching the girl and offering her help randomly. What for anyway? There was nothing wrong with the girl, she was merely picking flowers, even though maybe she shouldn’t exactly be doing that, not in this patch at least. If a guard saw her…
At least some of them could be a little over the top with their reactions and their interpretation of what should or shouldn’t be done, but Soneya really wasn’t the one to object to their judgement. After all they knew better. If not for them, Marn would not be as safe as it was.
When the girl only replied with a ‘hello’ though and finally turned to face her, Soneya almost choked on her breath. Coughing to clear her airways again, she hoped that it had not been too obvious a reaction to the girl’s condition. Forgotten were her thoughts that maybe she should just have let her be.
The girl was looking up a little too high as she had probably expected the woman talking to her to be a little taller than Soneya actually was. She didn’t seem in distress however, and not even very surprised that she had been addressed out of the blue. Though this fact unsettled Soneya even more, oddly enough and with her growing worry, her headache began pounding more prominently as well.
Maybe the girl was lost? Maybe she was just sitting here amidst the flowers in hopes of someone finding her to take her home? Looking around briefly, she couldn’t see all that many people. Not more than usual at this time of day anyhow, and not a single child amongst them and definitely not a worried parent running about in an attempt to find their daughter.
Seeing that the girl didn’t offer anything else however, Soneya spoke again, hesitant. “Isn’t someone looking for you? Do you want me to take you home? Or find a guard to take you?” Again, the young woman scanned her surroundings, jerking her head left and right, wondering what she should do, wondering if she should even do anything at all.
But… the girl was blind. Surely she needed help?
Why was there no one else around?
At least some of them could be a little over the top with their reactions and their interpretation of what should or shouldn’t be done, but Soneya really wasn’t the one to object to their judgement. After all they knew better. If not for them, Marn would not be as safe as it was.
When the girl only replied with a ‘hello’ though and finally turned to face her, Soneya almost choked on her breath. Coughing to clear her airways again, she hoped that it had not been too obvious a reaction to the girl’s condition. Forgotten were her thoughts that maybe she should just have let her be.
The girl was looking up a little too high as she had probably expected the woman talking to her to be a little taller than Soneya actually was. She didn’t seem in distress however, and not even very surprised that she had been addressed out of the blue. Though this fact unsettled Soneya even more, oddly enough and with her growing worry, her headache began pounding more prominently as well.
Maybe the girl was lost? Maybe she was just sitting here amidst the flowers in hopes of someone finding her to take her home? Looking around briefly, she couldn’t see all that many people. Not more than usual at this time of day anyhow, and not a single child amongst them and definitely not a worried parent running about in an attempt to find their daughter.
Seeing that the girl didn’t offer anything else however, Soneya spoke again, hesitant. “Isn’t someone looking for you? Do you want me to take you home? Or find a guard to take you?” Again, the young woman scanned her surroundings, jerking her head left and right, wondering what she should do, wondering if she should even do anything at all.
But… the girl was blind. Surely she needed help?
Why was there no one else around?
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Sinuvarakoon Tasza
- Citizen
- Posts: 75
- Joined: Fri Jul 27, 2012 1:03 am
- Name: Tasza
- Race: Human
Re: The Doctor is in
Paperwork was one of the many things Tasza excelled at, but as he made his delivery to the Fort, waited to have one of the desk-posted pen-wielding guardlings to approve it and send it along, he wasn't sure if he was grateful for the immediacy with which Miss Sekhara had pushed him along, or unhappy. Surely, his skin wasn't as itchy, and he was glad to be out of the way of Minister Guile, but he had thought to have seen the barest glimmer of disapproval on her face as she'd sent him along. Had that been what he'd seen? His neck itched.
The city enfolded him as he stepped back into it, walking with a surety that had been ingrained in him. No matter how you felt while you were on the street in uniform, you had to show confidence. The citizens were comforted by competent, assured guards. Criminals, likewise, were disheartened. When it came to performing duty, half the job was simple intimidation and impression: maintaining a decorum appropriate to the task the city entrusted its guards with could prevent as much as actual interference and combat could. And Tasza vastly preferred to dissuade wrongdoing before it had the chance to get violent.
Even with the good work the doctors at the Hospital did, he had seen the effects of wounds gone bad, of what happened to your insides when a blade opened them up to the light. He didn't want that to be him.
He took a long route back to the Hospital, giving himself the space to think and rebuild the stalwart demeanor the Captain expected of his guards. It was disturbing how much of his carefully built walls had withered between Miss Sekhara's careful words and the criminal's whiny behavior. He headed for the carefully maintained patch of greenery near the city's center, knowing well its soothing effect.
What he saw was a little girl picking flowers, another standing close. Recognition trickled to him as he took in the details of both, and indignation followed soon after. Tasza made it a point to keep track of his commanding officers' activities and life where they intersected with duty, and the choice to hire on outside help was something he'd made it a very discreet task to look into. You couldn't put it past criminals to use a man's personal life as a means of doing damage to an integral part of the overall guard structure.
He loomed up behind Soneya, arms folded. "I hope," he said softly, the disapproval firm in his voice, "this is not a regular occurrence."
The city enfolded him as he stepped back into it, walking with a surety that had been ingrained in him. No matter how you felt while you were on the street in uniform, you had to show confidence. The citizens were comforted by competent, assured guards. Criminals, likewise, were disheartened. When it came to performing duty, half the job was simple intimidation and impression: maintaining a decorum appropriate to the task the city entrusted its guards with could prevent as much as actual interference and combat could. And Tasza vastly preferred to dissuade wrongdoing before it had the chance to get violent.
Even with the good work the doctors at the Hospital did, he had seen the effects of wounds gone bad, of what happened to your insides when a blade opened them up to the light. He didn't want that to be him.
He took a long route back to the Hospital, giving himself the space to think and rebuild the stalwart demeanor the Captain expected of his guards. It was disturbing how much of his carefully built walls had withered between Miss Sekhara's careful words and the criminal's whiny behavior. He headed for the carefully maintained patch of greenery near the city's center, knowing well its soothing effect.
What he saw was a little girl picking flowers, another standing close. Recognition trickled to him as he took in the details of both, and indignation followed soon after. Tasza made it a point to keep track of his commanding officers' activities and life where they intersected with duty, and the choice to hire on outside help was something he'd made it a very discreet task to look into. You couldn't put it past criminals to use a man's personal life as a means of doing damage to an integral part of the overall guard structure.
He loomed up behind Soneya, arms folded. "I hope," he said softly, the disapproval firm in his voice, "this is not a regular occurrence."
Re: The Doctor is in
Head bowed, Ree continued completing her notes in Tamaya's patient file. She heard the door to Navarre's examination room open and the footsteps as the pair moved to the front door. Metarie placed the pen down and stood, moving to intercept the pair. She had not seen Modestine since the funeral.
Although she stayed on the periphery of the noble circles by choice, she was still a Descendant and took that role seriously. From social engagements and festivals to more personal needs, there had been more than a few occasions for Ree to interact with John Modestine over the years. He was a burly, jolly man who had always had trouble with his digestive system from eating too many fatty, rich foods and too much drink. Despite his poor nutritional choices, one couldn't help but like the man.
Ree studied Modestine. He had lost some weight, the skin lay loosely from his cheeks. Dark circles were etched under his eyes, which were downcast. Grief was evident in every movement. He appeared numb to the world and Ree's heart went out to him. There was nothing she could do for him to cure him of it. Losses were terrible things and grief was necessary. But, this didn't stop her from wishing she could fix him, could make everything all right, again. Ree hoped that someday, he would be able to lift his head and find some solace again. In the meantime, she could try to treat the more physical ailments that accompanied his grief. Treatment would not give solace, but might allow him time to lay the burden down long enough to rest.
Stepping in front of the pair, Ree clasped her hands. Her expression was soft, concern filled her gaze. Modestine's size, like Guile's, hid the elf from Guile's immediate view as he exited the room. Ree's voice was soft, but not too soft, filled with kindness.
"John, it's good to see you again."
Although she stayed on the periphery of the noble circles by choice, she was still a Descendant and took that role seriously. From social engagements and festivals to more personal needs, there had been more than a few occasions for Ree to interact with John Modestine over the years. He was a burly, jolly man who had always had trouble with his digestive system from eating too many fatty, rich foods and too much drink. Despite his poor nutritional choices, one couldn't help but like the man.
Ree studied Modestine. He had lost some weight, the skin lay loosely from his cheeks. Dark circles were etched under his eyes, which were downcast. Grief was evident in every movement. He appeared numb to the world and Ree's heart went out to him. There was nothing she could do for him to cure him of it. Losses were terrible things and grief was necessary. But, this didn't stop her from wishing she could fix him, could make everything all right, again. Ree hoped that someday, he would be able to lift his head and find some solace again. In the meantime, she could try to treat the more physical ailments that accompanied his grief. Treatment would not give solace, but might allow him time to lay the burden down long enough to rest.
Stepping in front of the pair, Ree clasped her hands. Her expression was soft, concern filled her gaze. Modestine's size, like Guile's, hid the elf from Guile's immediate view as he exited the room. Ree's voice was soft, but not too soft, filled with kindness.
"John, it's good to see you again."
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Re: The Doctor is in
Her business finished, Navarre headed for the entrance, pointedly avoiding any patients or staff that happened to be wandering the halls. Hospitals had unnerved her ever since she was a child, though she wouldn't dare admit it. They were waiting rooms for the graveyard. Even conquering death didn't make being surrounded by the sick and dying any less bearable. The sooner she was out of this filthy place and back at home, the better.
As she neared the door, she heard a voice call out to them:
“John, it's good to see you again.”
Navarre stopped with her companion and frowned slightly. No doubt another one of Modestine's dullard friends wanting to console him for his loss. She'd played the caring young woman part more than enough for today, and she didn't have it in her to even try to pretend that she cared about Modestine's sad little life. A life that was about to end, by the way, now that his bishani was running thin. Hopefully a few quick words would be enough to send whoever this dumbass was on her way.
Modestine smiled sadly. “Likewise, Miss Sehkhara – it's always a pleasure. I hope the hospital's been treating you well.”
Wait a moment - Sehkhara? Ah yes, the Descendant. She'd strongly considered offering the Sekhara woman a position on her campaign, but Lord Calder had objected. According to him, she rarely interacted with the other aristocrats, and a few circles looked down on her for being overly friendly with the rabble. Navarre recognized her from the funeral, but she hadn't bothered to speak with her. She'd still been wearing Madelynne at the time, and consoling – and more importantly, drugging – Isyrion was more important than grieving with the guests.
Now Metarie Sehkhara was worthy of her time. Having a Descendant's support would do wonders for her bid at the gala. But Navarre could tell that the woman would be far harder to convince than Guile: Guile seemed to share her outlook on the unruly peasants, but from what she heard about Metarie, she actually liked serving them at a hospital. She choose sickly vagrants and bedpans over her fellow nobles! Navarre knew that some aristocrats like Modestine and Abernathy were a bit unbearable, but the thought of associating with the rabble – the filthy races she was hoping to exterminate – made her stomach churn in disgust.
This would be a longshot, but it never hurt to try.
“It's an honor to finally meet you, Doctor Sehkhara,” Navarre said with a smile, giving a small bow out of respect. “My father told me so much about you. I can't thank you enough for coming to the funeral - both my father and John's family would have been honored to have you attend."
As she neared the door, she heard a voice call out to them:
“John, it's good to see you again.”
Navarre stopped with her companion and frowned slightly. No doubt another one of Modestine's dullard friends wanting to console him for his loss. She'd played the caring young woman part more than enough for today, and she didn't have it in her to even try to pretend that she cared about Modestine's sad little life. A life that was about to end, by the way, now that his bishani was running thin. Hopefully a few quick words would be enough to send whoever this dumbass was on her way.
Modestine smiled sadly. “Likewise, Miss Sehkhara – it's always a pleasure. I hope the hospital's been treating you well.”
Wait a moment - Sehkhara? Ah yes, the Descendant. She'd strongly considered offering the Sekhara woman a position on her campaign, but Lord Calder had objected. According to him, she rarely interacted with the other aristocrats, and a few circles looked down on her for being overly friendly with the rabble. Navarre recognized her from the funeral, but she hadn't bothered to speak with her. She'd still been wearing Madelynne at the time, and consoling – and more importantly, drugging – Isyrion was more important than grieving with the guests.
Now Metarie Sehkhara was worthy of her time. Having a Descendant's support would do wonders for her bid at the gala. But Navarre could tell that the woman would be far harder to convince than Guile: Guile seemed to share her outlook on the unruly peasants, but from what she heard about Metarie, she actually liked serving them at a hospital. She choose sickly vagrants and bedpans over her fellow nobles! Navarre knew that some aristocrats like Modestine and Abernathy were a bit unbearable, but the thought of associating with the rabble – the filthy races she was hoping to exterminate – made her stomach churn in disgust.
This would be a longshot, but it never hurt to try.
“It's an honor to finally meet you, Doctor Sehkhara,” Navarre said with a smile, giving a small bow out of respect. “My father told me so much about you. I can't thank you enough for coming to the funeral - both my father and John's family would have been honored to have you attend."
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Tamaya Ayashe
- Outsider
- Posts: 41
- Joined: Thu Dec 22, 2011 10:55 pm
- Name: Tamaya Ayashe
- Race: shapeshifter
Re: The Doctor is in
She dozed off as the bed was wheeled to the other ward, only to wake up little later as it jolted to a halt at the end of a little white room with small windows. She lifted her head, glancing around. She couldn't hear or smell anyone else in the room.
The attendant, Keris, squeezed her arm gently. "You'll have the room for yourself for now. Don't worry, Doctor Sehkhara will make sure you get to rest and recover properly before you're handed back to the officials."
Tamaya smiled and nodded weakly. "I like her," she admitted. "Wasn't too keen on the chubby one, though."
Keris smiled shortly. "Minister Guile no longer works here regularly, I don't think you'll run into him too often. And right now he is preoccupied with Lady Navarre. He is generally more into treating nobles."
"Lady Navarre is someone I should know?"
"Probably best you don't, given the situation," Keris admitted. "Lady Navarre is very much involved in the fight against illegal magic use."
Tamaya gave a frustrated sigh. "I never intended to be an illegal magic user. I don't know why everyone finds that so hard to believe." She was silent for a moment. "You think there is any chance Lady Navarre could help me? Or would?"
Keris hesitated. "I really don't know. It might be difficult to convince her you are not a threat."
Tamaya turned her short-sighted eyes pleadingly to the attendant. "If I could just talk to her? I'm really very worried about what is going to happen to me."
Keris nodded slowly, her face pensive. "I'll go and check if she is still here. Don't get your hopes up, though."
"Thank you."
Keris disappeared, and Tamaya was left on her own. It was all she could do not to clutch her blanket in pure terror. Just tell her the truth. If she doesn't believe you, at least you tried. Then you'll figure out something else. She forced herself to take deep breaths as the little black dots started to dance in her field of vision again. It has to work out. One way or another.
The attendant, Keris, squeezed her arm gently. "You'll have the room for yourself for now. Don't worry, Doctor Sehkhara will make sure you get to rest and recover properly before you're handed back to the officials."
Tamaya smiled and nodded weakly. "I like her," she admitted. "Wasn't too keen on the chubby one, though."
Keris smiled shortly. "Minister Guile no longer works here regularly, I don't think you'll run into him too often. And right now he is preoccupied with Lady Navarre. He is generally more into treating nobles."
"Lady Navarre is someone I should know?"
"Probably best you don't, given the situation," Keris admitted. "Lady Navarre is very much involved in the fight against illegal magic use."
Tamaya gave a frustrated sigh. "I never intended to be an illegal magic user. I don't know why everyone finds that so hard to believe." She was silent for a moment. "You think there is any chance Lady Navarre could help me? Or would?"
Keris hesitated. "I really don't know. It might be difficult to convince her you are not a threat."
Tamaya turned her short-sighted eyes pleadingly to the attendant. "If I could just talk to her? I'm really very worried about what is going to happen to me."
Keris nodded slowly, her face pensive. "I'll go and check if she is still here. Don't get your hopes up, though."
"Thank you."
Keris disappeared, and Tamaya was left on her own. It was all she could do not to clutch her blanket in pure terror. Just tell her the truth. If she doesn't believe you, at least you tried. Then you'll figure out something else. She forced herself to take deep breaths as the little black dots started to dance in her field of vision again. It has to work out. One way or another.