[closed]

[emasculates]

Characters: Aisha al-Fadhil, Johan Gustav Dååhd, others.
Date: sort of a catch-all July log.
Location: Johan's place probably?
Situation: Talk of surgery, dead bodies, modern medicine, Aisha's flagrant dislike of everything.
Warnings/Rating: See above. Will update if anything else comes in!

Comments

johan;

[emasculates]

[The body was heavier than she might have liked, but that hardly dissuaded her. The best practice was done on cadavers, and this one was fresh enough to be of use. She had dumped it into a rented cart and packed it through the streets, and now she was on Johan's doorstep. She kicked it with the toe of her boot and waited impatiently for him to open it.]

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ Although he had managed to make a few acquaintances by now, visitors were certainly few and far between and the dull knock on his door was enough to startle him. Sure, it probably helped that he was deep in his studies but semi-isolation was certainly to blame for most of it.

Tugging on his jacket, Johan made his way over to the door to open it. ]

Aisha? [ The jury is still out on whether it's surprise or pure intimidation that has him dropping the mamsell. ] How can I help you?

[emasculates]

Take this.

[She pulls the tarp back on the body. It's a fresh corpse, recently eviscerated, and curiously it's also missing its ears. Which she is definitely not wearing on leather thong looped through her belt, no sir.]

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ Whoa what. Aisha, you are the creepiest of cats. He's visibly taken aback by the sudden corpse, not so much from the gore factor (please) but rather the fact that she brought it to his door like the most morbid of presents. ]

How- what happened?

[emasculates]

He disrespected me.

[Truth enough, even if it's only part of it. She folds her arms across her chest impatiently.]

Are you going to bring it inside, or do you find that to be woman's work?

[kvarterskommissarie]

And you killed him? [ Starting to second-guess this potential friendship thing they got going, or whatever it is. Although... fresh corpse. He could use the practice. ]

No, no... I'll take it. Before I do... is this a murder investigation I'm messing with?

[emasculates]

He was a slaver, and his favourite targets were women and small children.

[DON'T EVEN START WITH HER, BRO.]

Possibly, but I can't see any of his brethren reporting him missing. They wouldn't want to bring attention to their operations.

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ There's a noticeable stretch of hesitation, but... hey. He's not the commissioner anymore. Not his problem. The guy's already dead anyway. ] ...Alright. Fair enough. [ He moves to rewrap the body in the tarp so it's easier to haul inside, but stops himself. ]

...I hope you realize I'm counting on your help disposing of the remains once I'm finished.

[emasculates]

[She shrugs.]

I was going to dump it in a sewer. Little better than what this dog deserves.

[kvarterskommissarie]

A sewer? [ He's about to ask if there isn't a more dignified place for it, but refrains. Pretty sure he already knows the answer to that one. Besides, they're on a frickin' turtle. The sewers are as good a disposal ground as any.

Aaaand a-corpse-liftin' we go! ]

Shame about the evisceration.

[emasculates]

Hardly. It gives you something to practice on.

[She helps, lifting the feet, and side-stepping around the little cart she'd brought the body in. They manage to get the corpse inside, and she cants her head, curious about where to put it from here.]

[kvarterskommissarie]

The best specimens are the ones free of damage. [ Not that he's complaining. It takes him a short second to decide on a location, but... it's never failed him before. ] Over there will do. On the table.

[ You know. The table where he usually eats or studies. ]

[emasculates]

[She arches an eyebrow, but complies with his direction without comment.]

Next time I decide to kill someone, I will leave their corpse rather more intact. Does that suit you?

[kvarterskommissarie]

Yes, thank you. That's... very kind. [ And weird, oh so weird. With the corpse hoisted onto the table, the small talk can begin. ]

Can I get you anything or do you have someplace to be?

[emasculates]

[She smirks. It's not a particularly pleasant expression.]

You think he is missing pieces for simple amusement?

[Yes she's implying kedan are edible. And don't get her wrong, she'd totally eat one of them, but this particular instance is in jest. Congratulations, you have earned one (1) joke.]

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ Whoa, what did you just say. ] You... did I understand that right?

[emasculates]

[She laughs. It's not a particularly pleasant noise, but it is amused.]

Water. I will take water. Otherwise I am fine.

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ Yes, okay... better not to ask questions. He gives a nod before moving over to pour two glasses of water, handing her one of them. ]

Have you been well?

[emasculates]

I am always well. It is a fool who has moods that change like tides, and cannot control them.

[She shrugs, flips the tarp off the body. Studies it. Wow, she really could have made a finer cut on that one ear, but oh well. She's still learning how thick kedan skin is. Absently, she takes that water glass and does not drink until he's done so. It could be poisoned in other ways, but paranoia dies hard.]

And what of you? Have you been 'well'?

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ It's an odd comment to give, but fitting in some ways. He doesn't know this woman all that well but she reminds him of other women, tough as nails and resistant to even the most brutal torture. Eric's pendant still hangs around his neck, re-tied after being snatched from Märta and there's a moment of quiet contemplation as he wonders what became of her. No news of her execution, but that doesn't mean much. Even less so now.

He takes an absentminded sip of water before responding. No poison here. ]

As well as can be, under the circumstances. I was lucky to get through, uh... recent events relatively unharmed. [ A glance. Are you following? ]

[emasculates]

Speak or do not speak. Dancing around the subject only irritates me.

[She can guess at his meaning, of course. She has been a spy, and at times a double or triple agent. She has lined her pockets with the funding of those she despised all for the sake of and chance at killing Max. But she is dead, and done with it here. He can speak plainly or not at all.]

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ Should've guessed it. Old habits die hard though. It's been a while since he could speak freely without the aid of alcohol or opium. ]

Were you involved in the investigations?

[emasculates]

No. I would not take table scraps or leavings from the Emperor's dog.

[She does not think highly of Evandau, and would sooner slit his throat than listen to him. She takes a drink of her water, sets the glass aside.]

Do you have gloves?

[Medical ones, obvs. But it's just as likely he doesn't even know what they are.]

[kvarterskommissarie]

Not even if it would give you a chance to take a closer look at the ongoings in this place? [ Wow doesn't this discussion sound awfully familiar. He sets the glass aside in favor for shrugging out of his jacket and fetch an apron. ]

Gloves..? [ Bwuh? ]

[emasculates]

Why do I care? I have no vested interest in this city or its peoples.

[And Aisha's apathy is about as sharp as her favourite knife, oops. ... And then she sighs and pulls a pair of blue latex gloves out of her back pocket and holds it out for him.]

What do you know about bacteria, infection and cleanliness as relative to being a doctor?

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ He takes the glove, eyes darting between it and her as if she just grew a second head. Never mind that it'll take another 60 years before washing your hands in a hospital becomes anything even close to common practice, the word bacteria itself will take almost as long to be invented. ]

Infections can be alleviated by removing necrotic tissue or by treating fevers with china bark. Blood letting is also commonly practiced, though it has recently fallen out of favor. [ And that's all he's got. This is a guy who uses the same pair of scissors for an autopsy as he does for cooking dinner. ]

[emasculates]

[Somebody needs to hold her fucking flower. She presses the heel of one hand against her forehead.]

Blood letting is nonsense. It is good sometimes to let a wound bleed because it cleanses it, but doing it to a weak patient is asking to weaken them further. Infection is caused by bacterias, viruses, fungi.

[... There are other things, of course, but she'll start small.]

Each of those things are organisms too small to be seen by the naked eye and are treated with medicines.

[MASSIVELY SIMPLE but hey. She raises an eyebrow to check and see if he's following along.]

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ There's that word again that has yet to be invented. He's following along though, somewhat bothered by this and by somewhat I mean massively. ]

...goes to show how much I have left to learn.

[emasculates]

There is no shame in learning. Only in refusing to.

[She nods back to the corpse.]

Tell me if I leave you behind.

[kvarterskommissarie]

An unsettling situation to be in, that's all. I'm used to being at the forefront of modern medicine. [ Medicine that is horribly outdated, it seems. He picks at the gloves. ]

I will try to keep up.

[emasculates]

Do.

[And welp, she dives right into it. Aisha is the very definition of 'not squeamish'. This is the story of how she'll spend the next few hours dissecting the kedan corpse, showing Dååhd how to perform certain techniques. She talks an unnatural amount given her usual bearing, her explanations are precise and factual. There are gaps in her knowledge, of course. She's done field surgery, but has little in the way of formal training.

It's a considerable time later that she peels her gloves off, wipes one arm across her brow and nods to the corpse.]

Sufficient?

['For now'.]

[kvarterskommissarie]

[ It's been a while since he had someone to do an autopsy with. Not since his school years, come to think of it and although Freund helped to the best of his abilities the poor man was all too prone to vomiting on their floor to be of much service.

Needless to say the hours pass in surprising comfort and ease. Every so often he'll come with a comment or question, perhaps attempt to fill in a gap if he sees it or at the very least share whatever he knows about the subject on hand. It's exhilarating and at the end of the session he can honestly say he hasn't had such a medical workout in years. ]

Very... thank you. It's been most enlightening. [ Stretching out his aching back and picking at the gloves yet again. Do you save them? Rinse them out? What is this "disposable" you talk of? ]