The Doctor is in

[Guile]

Room 2. Copiax overdose.

Guile wrote on another piece of parchment; he had placed Lady Navarre's on the bottom of the pile. He looked around the room to make sure that nothing had changed since he left, and to make sure that one of the bustling nurses wasn't... bustling. The nameless mouse-haired boy was still asleep, but he was beginning to shift uncomfortably; the pain would eventually wake him up, Guile supposed. Copiax was a dangerous drug, and the city had banned it rightfully so. Since its discovery, however, the drug had only increased in popularity among the rich and noble. Guile probably knew the man who had given this boy the copiax. It should have been an uncomfortable thought, but it wasn't.

Guile moved closer to the side of the bed. With gentle touch, he placed his hand on the boy's forehead; the temperature was normal. The fever had been successfully reduced, and that meant the boy would be waking anytime now. With a sputter and small choke, he did.

With a rush, the minister moved to the sink and turned on the faucet. Several glasses were in a stack on the counter, left there from the nurses washing them. Guile took a glass and filled it with water, making sure it was cool, but not cold. The boy groaned in protest.
"Where... What...?" said the boy, and he opened his eyes. He immediately began squinting instead, as if the small amount of electric lighting in the room was causing him severe pain.
"It's all right, you're fine," said Guile, attempting to comfort. He offered the glass of water to the boy and said, "Here, take this."
The boy screwed his eyes up and stared at Guile, trying to make out his face. He stared at the glass of water and then tentatively took it from the doctor. He sipped at it, and then noticed the burn on his hand; it was covered in bandages, but the blood and other fluids from the wound had bled through the fabric a bit. He dropped the glass and it sent water all over himself and the bed. Guile tried to grab the glass before it rolled off the bed and hit the floor, but it shattered into several large pieces before he could.

The boy tried to panic and move around, but the pain of the bruises over his body made that impossible. Instead he began to sob, wanting to turn over in the bed but unable to. Tears began streaming down his face, and he started to heave like a small child might, looking positively stupid and pathetic.
"It's a very normal reaction from the drug, you'll be okay," said Guile, and it was true. After using copiax, the high dissipated and eventually turn into an array of mood swings, often including depression. He leaned his great mass over and picked up the easy-to-see pieces of the broken glass, transferring them to the corner garbage can. The small pieces the nurses could worry about later.

"Wh-Who are you? Where am I? The ceiling broke. Mr. Hannigan, he turned into.. I set him on fire.. Everything," babbled the boy. Guile wrote down everything he said that he could catch, underlining the name "Mr. Hannigan," a man he'd heard of but never met. Hannigan was among the larger circle of Marnian noblemen, and probably received his drugs from the same place.

"You were delusional, it's okay. You're in the hospital. Your wounds have been treated. My name is Dr. Markus," answered Guile in a cooing voice. The boy looked unconvinced, his eyes wide and searching the ceiling for monsters and unspeakable demons. "Do you have a name?" asked the doctor.

"Fin," said the boy.
"A last name?"
"Chronomantique."

Guile dropped his pen.

[Fathia Asim Mahiri]

The concerned tones she picked up in the woman's voice both confused and worried Fathia. “Isn’t someone looking for you? Do you want me to take you home? Or find a guard to take you?” Was somebody looking for her? Was she needed at home? Had something happened and her help was needed?

As far as she had known, mother and Abebi should still be at the tavern working. Her father would be busy in his shop; her brothers busy in the field. Dear old Ina was looking after the little ones, braiding their hair and chasing after them in their refusal to wear stockings on such a nice day. She assumed that she would not be missed as long as she was home in time for supper and that all her chores were done. She had planned on visiting the temple this afternoon, but there was some kind of emergency and she was needed, her plans would have to be put on hold.

"Did something happen?" Terrible thoughts entered into her head. Her grandmother had fallen before, tripped over the uneven flagstone out the back door and twisted her ankle badly. She had cried out in pain. It had taken mother, father and the kind old man next door to move her inside. She remembered a doctor had been brought to the house to look in after her and she remembered how stubborn Ina had been to let anyone try to care for her.

She was filled with so many questions. Was anyone hurt? Who was hurt? Who was looking after the little ones if Ina had fallen? Or was it her sister? Was it the baby? Before she had the time to ask any of her questions she heard another set of footsteps approach, followed by the strong voice of a man.

"I hope this is not a regular occurrence."

Fathia thought she may have recognized the voice, perhaps someone her frequented The Druken Rat or her father's bakery, but she was too distraught with fear to put a name to the voice.

"Was anybody hurt?"

[Soneya]

Confusion added to the headache and Soneya was left staring at the girl in front of her, entirely at a loss. What had she done? She had unsettled the poor girl only to satisfy her own need to be needed by others. How stupid could she have been? This wasn’t the first time either she had managed to run herself into an awkward situation, though that knowledge didn’t make this misstep any less embarrassing or painful.

“No, no,” Soneya replied weakly, not quite sure what she should say. It would seem ridiculous if she explained her reasoning now, especially after the girl seemed to be really distressed. She may not have said anything but the emotions on her face were clear enough. In turn, Soneya stressed out more and more as well, not sure how to handle the situation. “Everything is fine. I just…” Well, exactly. She, what? Just as she was about to look around once again for anyone who could help her with the situation, helplessly flapping her arms, she heard a voice behind her.

Gasping in shock, Soneya swiveled around and quickly took a few steps back away from the guard, instinctively hugging her arms to her body. “N…No…,” she whispered and instantly averted her gaze to the ground, unable to bear the disapproving look of those dark eyes. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She remembered him, had seen Guard Sinuvarakoon before in her master’s house. Though she may have been looking for a guard only minutes earlier, she wasn’t sure she was happy her wish had been fulfilled now.

“I mean…” Wait, what did he mean? The fact that the girl was picking flowers and she obviously looked like an accomplice? Or the fact that she was pestering a young girl to accept her help for something she didn’t need help and in turn resulted in the girl starting to stress over something bad that may have happened. Well neither were a regular occurrence, though the latter did happen more frequently than Soneya would like to admit.

“Hurt?”
At the girl’s question, she forgot her own questions for a moment. Soneya frowned at the girl. Changers, what horrors had she made the girl think about? Oh, the confusion! “What? No… I…” She suddenly looked back at the guard, her expression one of complete and utterly confusion. Maybe something really had happened and somehow he seemed to think they were involved?
“Has someone been hurt?”
What on earth was going on? Soneya couldn’t make neither head nor tails of anything anymore and everything was just a big jumbled mess in her mind, worsened by the intense throbbing of her headache. Pressing her hand to her forehead and massaging along its length, she hoped it would ease some of the pain in her skull.

[Sinuvarakoon Tasza]

The girl, the smaller of the two, took up the whole of Tasza's attention for exactly five seconds before he examined Soneya when she turned around. She had always behaved appropriately before, but discerning when otherwise ordinary citizens turned down a darker path was part of his duties.

The dratted irritation skittered along the back of his neck, unsoothed, but the intensity of it eased a little. Chastising children was not so much a confrontation as a citizen's duty, whether or not the citizen in question was a guard. That was part of life in a proper village, especially back in his homeland. Everyone watched out for the little ones.

He addressed Fathia first. "These flowers are not meant to be plucked haphazardly by anyone but the city's gardeners. Please refrain from picking them in the future." His tone was low, grave, and very uncompromising. "Although, if anyone is hurt I would guess it to be Soneya here. While there have never been complaints regarding your duties, there have been a deceptiveness to your activity."

He stared hard at Soneya through his helmet. "If I had to guess, you have been hiding a chronic condition that, if left unchecked, will interfere with your duties. I surmise you have not yet been to the hospital, in which case you will be cheating your master out of the money for an inability to complete the tasks at the same rate a healthy person would."

Tasza knew all about chronic conditions, having dealt with his regularly and quite decisively. Yet, he knew, he was a man, and he doubted this young slip of a woman would be able to contain hers as he had his without medical attention. He might have left it at that, as he looked again at the young girl, but the righteous sense of Kava propriety instilled in him indicated that he shouldn't leave the girl alone. He could see the milky color of her eyes. If he escorted one, he might as well escort both.

"Soneya, I will walk you to the hospital. Little girl, have you ever had a medical professional inspect you?" He gentled his tone the slightest bit, though he knew he might sound imposing to one so young. Though he strove to remain distant as a symbol of the city's protectors, he had no desire to frighten children.

[Metarie]

Ree had reached out and clasped one Modestine’s large hands in both of hers. Ree nodded and smiled gently.

“Helping others is fulfilling work. How do you fare? As a doctor, I …”

A voice interjected, brisk, cultured, and modulated, drawing Ree’s gaze to Isyrion.

“It's an honor to finally meet you, Doctor Sehkhara. 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."

Ree's gaze flicked quickly from Isyrion to Modestine then back to Isyrion, as the young elf gave the small bow. She gave the woman a polite smile and placed her hand over her heart. Keeping her eyes on Isyrion’s face, she bowed slightly, as was expected, and said,

“Aa menealle nauva calen ar'malta, Isyrion.” As she straightened, she continued, “I am sorry for your loss as well. I respected your parents greatly. It was my honor to attend.”

[Navarre]

“Thank you for your kindness. Life has been difficult since their deaths, but it comforts me to know they were so loved. I only hope I can live up to their legacy.”

Playing parts came naturally to Navarre, but it was becoming harder to maintain this grieving daughter act. She’d put it on for weeks after the murder, but the constant stream of well-wishers annoyed her fast. Starting her campaign allowed her to reinvent herself as a political leader, but she every so often she had to slip back into this routine to garner sympathy. The image of a pretty young elf crying into her handkerchief melted hearts, but it did little for her self-respect.

But as tiresome as it was, it meant more support – and Sehkhara’s was too valuable to pass up.

Now, how to win her over? She couldn’t use the same tact she had with Modestine. Perhaps an emotional approach would be more appropriate. A noble wouldn’t be working as a doctor if she didn’t want to prevent the suffering of others, after all. It was time to strike at the heart.

She paused for a moment, her smile fading. “Though it saddens me that these atrocities continue to plague our city. Ever since I involved myself in politics, I’ve met many families that have suffered at the insurrection’s hands. Just last week I spoke with a woman who lost her grandson in an attack. That they would stoop so low… I can only imagine that poor woman’s pain.”

Of course, the death had been in an accidental house fire. But when Navarre suggested that the insurrection might have been responsible, the old bat miraculously recalled seeing shadowy figures lurking outside the house. Grieving minds always need a scapegoat for their sorrow and anger, and the insurrection filled that role quite well these days. No matter what happened in Marn, she could always find a way to pin it on the rebellion.

Navarre shook her head. “I only wish I could do more, both for my parents’ sake and for Marn’s. It’s embarrassing to admit, but sometimes I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle. There's a sickness festering in Marn, and I just can't seem to cure it."

[Tamaya Ayashe]

Keris returned slowly to the hallway. Even without the hospital worker's trained discretion it would have been easy to tell the small group was discussing something sensitive, so she hung back until there was a natural pause in the conversation.

"Pardon me for interrupting, but Tamaya - the shifter girl with the leg injury - asks if Lady Navarre would have a minute to spare for her." She gave a slightly apologetic smile to the noblewoman. "I understand she wishes to discuss the magic user problem, and possibly plead for her own case."

Keris gave a quick glance towards Doctor Sehkhara, to make sure she wasn't crossing her own line. Within the hospital rooms she was in her own element, confident and competent, but after the patients were discharged she was no longer quite certain how to behave. Especially around those of the upper classes.

[Guile]

"Sorry, I.." Guile leaned his large mass over to pick up the quill he'd dropped. Such a task was a greater burden on his back then it should have been at his age due to his size. "I did not know your father had a son," he admitted, still surprised.
"My father?" The boy still had a racing heart. He was sitting up in the hospital bed, looking positively terrified of the bandages on his body that covered the burns. His hair was messed with sweat and dirt.
"Your father," repeated Guile. He looked at the boy expectantly. He waited there for ten seconds before giving up, turning toward the cabinet in the right corner of the room, and searching for another pair of drugs. Clearly the boy needed something to calm his nerves if he was going to relay any important information at all on the whereabouts of his father.
"He sent me to Hannigan, three months ago, from.. egh," the boy began to cough in a way that would have been very alarming to anyone who was not experienced with copiax overdose patients. It sounded like he was breathing in smoke.
"Calm down, there is no fire. You are in a safe place, nothing can harm you here," said Guile as he began pouring a clear liquid into a glass. He had measured it with a small glass instrument. He corked the tonic and grabbed a bottle full of blue crystals out of the cabinet. With a pair of forceps, he placed two crystals into the glass and swirled the mixture. It dissolved into something that looked and smelled like water. The boy was hyperventilating mildly.

Guile stepped toward the bed with the glass and put his hand across Fin's forehead. No fever.
"I want you to take a deep breath in, and hold it there." Fin did as asked. "Now exhale." He exhaled. "Again."
Fin took deep breaths for about a minute until he calmed. He no longer believed that smoke had filled his lungs or that the building was on fire. His tongue lapped over his chapped lips. Guile handed him the mixture. Fin drank it; it tasted like nothing.
"Now," said Guile, "Your father sent you?" Fin looked at Guile, unblinking and a little scared.
"Kaita sent me, under father's orders," he said. "You are Mr. Markus," he continued, and said it as a sort of question. When Guile nodded, a bit confused, Fin kept going. "Kaita said that I could trust.. you. Said you knew about.."
Guile raised his hand.
"Careful, boy. We are in a public building."
"Right.. from Keltaris. Easier to keep the goods there. They were talking about a big shipment, Hannigan has connections." Fin's eyes had become glazed. "But Hannigan is dead," he admitted. Fin remembered seeing Hannigan go up in flames produced by his own hands.
"I doubt that. The drug alters your sight," said Guile.
"We were just sealing the deal.." They were sealing a deal, among other things.
"Why Hannigan and not me?" Guile didn't mean to ask that out loud. Fin did not respond beyond looking strangely at the doctor. Fin's father had always come to him for such deals previously, so what had changed? Did Hannigan have other connections? What sort of connections would warrant the change of heart?

Then Guile remembered.

"Did you speak to your father before you left Keltaris?"
Fin shook his head. "Only Kaita."
Guile's heart felt weak.

A rich man was killed by a werewolf three months ago, but the body was never found.
Someone else controlled Marn's copiax source now.

[Soneya]

Deceptiveness? What? No!

Soneya’s head was spinning and she didn’t understand a word the guard was saying. What was going on? What was happening? And how in the name of everything that was still sane on this earth had she managed to get herself into this messed up situation again?

She tried as best as she could to pull herself together to at least listen to what Tasza Sinuvarakoon was telling her because otherwise she was going to get into even more trouble. The girl, she still didn’t quite comprehend what was happening on that front. She had only wanted to help the girl get home and now they were being chastised by a guard who… Not even her own thoughts she managed to finish as her head was too jumbled up for coherence. She hadn’t had a headache this bad in quite a long time, and this was starting to be really bad.

With a heavy sigh, Soneya could feel her knees wobbling and she could barely manage to concentrate on Guard Sinuvarakoon, forcing herself to keep listening to his voice, though mostly without hearing the words. Hospital? Huh? His words were lost on her but she had managed to catch his meaning about the hospital when the throbbing decided to lessen for a few heartbeats before resuming its thumping again.

“I’ve been. To the hospital,” she whispered, her own voice sounding like thunder inside her skull. “Didn’t help.”

No longer able to keep her knees from giving out underneath her, Soneya heaved another sigh and slipped into delicious unconsciousness where the migraine could no longer get at her.

[Sinuvarakoon Tasza]

The little girl in question shook her head, and then Soneya was suddenly falling. It was instinct that moved Tasza, and it was the thought of Ree's disapproving stare that had him catch and cradle her head, first, and then her upper body before she could completely collapse to the ground. She'd have bruises, no doubt, but her head would not have a one.

Tasza grimly considered his two charges for a moment. "Little girl, you are to accompany me to the Hospital with this young lady. As you cannot see, I will have you hold on to my tabard -- I am going to take your hand and guide it to where you should hold on -- like so. . ." he connected the girl's hand, and then shifted to pick Soneya up. "I'm going to start moving forward now," he told the little girl.

It was slow progress. It was a weakness of womankind, he supposed, that he should find himself distracted from typical duty by yet another fainting woman in the course of his regular duties. He could feel the frustration bubbling up in his stomach, seeping out through his back and crawling in a vine of discomfort up spine and to neck. Sweat only exacerbated it, and by the time the strange group arrived at the hospital's doors he was quite thoroughly determined to see himself quit of women entirely by the time the day was over.

Unfortunately for him, the day did not seem ready, by any means, to be rid of him. Not by the sun's position, at any rate. He grimaced and manuevered all of them inside, quietly directing the blind girl, and then stood waiting for a moment to compose himself before calling out. Back straight, voice professional.

"I find myself in need of a doctor or assistant. Again."

[Metarie]

Ree agreed with Isyrion. There definitely was a sickness festering in Marn. She opened her mouth to reply, but Keris interjected.

"Pardon me for interrupting, but Tamaya - the shifter girl with the leg injury - asks if Lady Navarre would have a minute to spare for her. I understand she wishes to discuss the magic user problem, and possibly plead for her own case."

Ree wasn’t bothered by Keris’ interjection at all, but the thought that Tamaya might plead her case to Isyrion seemed odd. Ree’s brows rose in surprise at that. Was the young elf’s movement so strong? Ree eyed Navarre, contemplating the innocuous looking woman, before giving Keris a reassuring smile.

“Thank you for relaying the information. I don’t think Tamaya is dangerous; however, she is under arrest. Protocol requires a guardsman to attend in such instances.” And, as luck would have it, said Guardsman re-appeared. This time, carrying another woman in his arms and apparently escorting a child, as well.

“Should you wish to speak with the … Tamaya, please wait in the lounge. We can request the Guardsman accompany you. Keris, get a gurney please. If you’ll excuse us… “ It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, Doctor.” Keris felt relieved, back in her element once more.

Ree nodded and moved toward Tasza.

“What happened?” Ree was already reaching for the woman's arm to check her pulse. Keris wasn't far behind with the gurney.

Today was an unusual day. When would it be over?

[Navarre]

As silly as it seemed, there were times where she felt that the universe itself was conspiring against her. This was one of those moments.

Navarre looked over at Keris, and for a moment she became demonic – her smile dropped from her face, and her eyes smoldered with inhuman anger. Quickly collecting herself, she chuckled nervously and attempted to salvage her act. “Certainly. I doubt I’ll be able to do much for the girl, but I’ll gladly hear her out.”

She turned to say some final words to Metarie, only to find her attending to another misfit brigaide. Wonderful. Perhaps she’d be able to catch her again on the way out, and if not she’d come back another time and plead her case. There was no way she was about to let such valuable support slip through her fingers.

And speaking of pleading cases, just what the hell did that pissant girl expect her to do? She was one of the central figures of Marn’s anti-magic movement. And even if she was innocent, the accusation was all that mattered. Defending a suspected magic-user would weaken her position, and that was the last thing she needed right before the gala. She couldn’t afford a single smear on her image at such a critical time.

But Metarie was no longer available and snubbing the girl would look bad, so she didn’t have much of a choice. “I’ll be waiting in the lounge, then,” she said curtly, heading off.

[Tamaya Ayashe]

Somebody else came to the room. Another attendant, one she had not seen before. He adjusted the head of the bed, so that she was sitting in a more upright position. "Lady Navarre will see you in the lounge," he said curtly, grabbing the bed and wheeling it out of the room again.

So she was taken to see Lady Navarre on the hospital bed. Not the most dignified way, but that was the smallest of her concerns. As the attendant parked her bed next to Lady Navarre's seat, her heart fluttered faster than it had in the Justice Hall. Too nervous and too faint to focus, she could not make out the other woman's features, and could not read her expression. All she could tell was the she did not like her scent.

"I - I'm sorry to detain you, m-my lady," she started uncertainly. The whole concept of nobility was still new to her, so she was not quite sure how far above her Lady Navarre actually was. "I - I was told you are a person of high standing in this city, and, um, involved in solving the trouble with the magically able residents. I was hoping I could ask for your help." Her throat felt dry, and she swallowed awkwardly. "I come from Ayana. It is the tradition of my people that when we come of age, we must travel abroad and learn about and from other people and places. I came to Marn to learn, not to do harm. I have never used magic inside the city walls, yet they accuse me of doing so." She paused, searching for words. "I, um, the doctor who treated me told me that it is possible to register oneself as a legal magic user, I - I was wondering if I could do that. I would like to help your city with your trouble. Or, if they would just let me leave, I would do so and never come back."

She felt exhausted, and out of breath. There was the village nearby. If I could get far enough from the city to shift, I might be able to crawl there. She felt like she was going to be sick again. Please, say yes. Please, just say yes. Or at least don't say no.

[Guile]

Guile knew that speaking of such delicate matters inside of a public building was a very bad idea. The walls were not completely sound-proof, and anyone holding their ear to the door would have been able to catch their words, albeit faintly. With the knowledge that Fin had given him, Guile had new matters to attend to that were unrelated to the hospital. He would need to speak with Hans, one of his closest associates, immediately.

In the mean time, he quickly calculated and sloppily prepared a piece of written instructions for the nurses caring for Fin.
"Unforunately, I would not recommend you leave your bed until the dizziness wears off completely and you stop smelling smoke."
It had been several minutes since either Guile or the boy had spoken aloud, and the sound of Guile's booming voice caught Finn off guard; he made a little chirping sort of noise. Guile smiled apologetically, stealing a glance for a lengthy, eyecatching moment before he returned to writing. For a while, it was only the sound of quill on paper and muffled voices from the halls and other rooms that were heard.

"Oh," Guile pulled the paper from his clipboard and rested it beside the young man's bed. Then he danced a dainty step closer to Finn, pulling his face in closer so as to whisper. "I wonder if you would do me the pleasure in joining my wife and I at a wonderful gala our Lady Navarre is preparing for us," he smiled. It was a dreadfully happy, plush expression, given the state of the boy. Finn looked a bit nervous and taken aback.

"I'm.. supposed to return to Kaita after--"
"I am sure that your trip might take an extra week due to a dreadful storm rolling in. We will arrange for accommodations to wait it out before your journey back to Keltaris," Guile interrupted. It was clear there would be no arguing. Fin's lips became taut and flat, his voice offering few words while his eyes presented a hundred. "I have arranged a proper treatment plan for you; you'll be out by the end of the day, no doubt." Guile's voice had risen in a pleasant song. "See that you're.. more careful next time, mmh?"

He opened the door, and shut it behind.

"I'LL BE SENDING LOTTI TO FINISH UP THE REPORT, DOCTOR MEH-TARIE!" The yell of Doctor Markus reverberated through the hallways unpleasantly. Guile had been there long enough. He never stayed the whole day anyway. Lotti, while more honest than Guile, was one of his many underlings. Her job was to write reports favoring Guile's perspectives and do regular hospital visits. Guile's visits themselves were rare. She was hard-lined and had been hired primarily because she did not like Dr. Sehkara. Her name was an omen to anyone who worked at the hospital.

With that note, Guile opened and shut behind him the hospital doors.

[Fathia Asim Mahiri]

She had many questions on the way to the hospital, but the man escorting her gave off the impression that he wasn't going to be the one to answer them. Though they hardly exchanged words, his stern tone reminded her of all the times her father came home late from the bakery, claimed he was tired, and asked the little ones not to climb onto his lap while he sat in his favorite chair by the fire.

It took an incredibly long time to reach the hospital from where they were. Had she been on her own, she could have made the trip in a matter of minutes, but because she was forced to hold on to the man's clothing and follow him like some senseless dog being pulled on a rope, it took them much longer. It made her feel useless to be treated in such a way. She was not helpless. For years now she had tried to explain to many adults that she did not need to be taken by the hand and treated like an infant. Yes, she could not see, but that didn't mean that she couldn't find her own way.

Fathia knew the moment they entered the hospital by the smooth feeling of the floor beneath her and the all too clean smell that everything in the building gave off. Her dear old Ina always said, "cleanliness was something to strive for, but it was unnatural to live in such a state that the normal signs and smells of life couldn't be found." And that's what this place was, unnatural.

She let the piece of cloth within her grasp slip out of her hand. Slowly she took two small steps backwards and found herself holding her breath, without consciously doing so. She was afraid of this place, afraid of doctors and all the weird tests that they had tried on her in the past. She had to stay for now, she had to have her questions answered, but she was determined that no one would poke or prod her this time.