tushanshu_logs | [OPEN] Eshai Memorial Hospital May catch-all

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[OPEN] Eshai Memorial Hospital May catch-all

Characters: Hospital staff, volunteers, patients, visitors, and everyone else!
Date: All of May
Location: Eshai Memorial Hospital, Metal Sector
Situation: General Hospital a la Turtle-back
Warnings/Rating: It’s a hospital, there will probably injuries/blood/etc at some point.
OOC Note: Everyone, feel free to add your own thread headers for whatever you might need!

There are still signs of the damage taken in the bombings, but repairs are taking place and are obviously not keeping the hospital from its usual busy schedule. Some of the work seems to be plumbing related: with the city water contaminated, they are trying to get a back-up system in place easier to keep purified, and sometimes some of the staff and volunteers can be found doing just that. Everyone needs sanitary water.

Some of the rooms have been reassigned uses until the repairs are finished, usually in favor of keeping intensive care as flexible as possible. First aid training still takes place in the classroom on the third floor, along with classroom-friendly aspects of field training.

Upon request, the list of active field medics will be provided by the front desk, along with who is currently on-call.
Active Field Medics:
Septimus
Raine Sage
Frank Zhang
Zelgadis Graywords
NPC kedan healers

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Given the state of the turtle, Solomon supposed he should have expected that the Foreigners would be expected to actually participate in the war for which they'd been kidnapped. Even still, given his relative newness he'd still been surprised to be contacted for a mission.

Then again, perhaps that was why he'd been chosen.

Either way, it meant that he couldn't afford to let his leg heal naturally. It was healing well, to be sure, and with a minimum of stitches. Just not quickly enough for a mission. Which was why Solomon made his slow way back into the hospital two weeks after his first visit, leaning on a cane and glancing around. He caught one of the passing kedan.

"I'm looking for the white-haired healer in the red robe," he said.

"Healer Sage," said the kedan. "I'll have someone send her out at her convenience."

"Thank you." Solomon glanced about for a seat and took one against the wall to wait.

Her convenience didn't leave him waiting very long; within ten minutes or so, Raine had emerged, sleeves pushed up and staff in hand. She glanced about briefly, spotted Solomon, and headed over. "I remember you," she said, with a nod by way of greeting. She might have even been introduced to him, though his name escaped her for the moment.

A quick scan of his appearance revealed nothing that looked like new damage, so a safe conclusion was something to do with his wounded leg. A purely social visit seemed highly unlikely, at any rate. "I take it your injury brings you here. How have you been healing?"

More reason to like the woman. Granted, there were reasons for healers to be delayed, but her expediency and the fact she jumped straight to the heart of the matter were still appreciated.

"Good. That makes this less awkward," Solomon said dryly without rising. He didn't think they'd ever been introduced, so he bowed slightly from the waist. "Solomon Wreath; thank you for seeing me. My healing has progressed as well as might be expected, but I've a sudden engagement to attend very soon, and I'll need full use of my leg to attend to it. Provided, of course, you've the magic or resources to spare."

"Raine Sage," she said, in case it had been missed in the interim, and, "Certainly, I can help with that. Preferably not in the lobby, however, as the sutures should come out before I close the wound the rest of the way. How quickly do you heal relative to the average human in your world?" She waited to see if Solomon would have any difficulty standing again, prepared to assist if necessary.

"No quicker," said Solomon, rising. He still leaned on the cane, but he was moving far more easily than he had even when he'd left the hospital two weeks ago. "No slower, perhaps, but no quicker. Does that make a difference to your healing process?"

It was a thoughtful question. If Raine's magic relied upon the energy in a body, he wondered whether the longevity caused by magic might be an interference. Biology was far from his strong point.

"The process itself, no, but the energy expenditure, yes. This way." Raine turned to start leading Solomon to a nearby available exam room, at a slower pace than her usual brisk one. "My artes use the mana, the energy I supply, to exponentially speed the rate of regeneration. A larger base number results in a steeper curve, so to speak." She paused there, in consideration of how much to add as contextual explanation. Finally she went with, "Before this, the majority of my artes were not used on people with average healing rates. It's been an interesting adjustment."

The slower pace was appreciated. It meant Solomon could keep up without much trouble. "I see," he said, pondering for a moment. "In that case, I feel I should tell you that my ageing is far slower than the majority of those who live in my dimension. The use of magic slows the process."

If that wasn't going to be an interference, then it was for Healer Raine to decide. Solomon didn't know nearly enough about biology or healing magic to be able to say.

Raine gave this little enough consideration that it was more than likely a variable she'd encountered before. "That shouldn't be a problem, but I appreciate the disclosure. Every piece of data helps."

The room she was leading him to was small, bare but functional, and she waved Solomon absently toward the exam table in the center while she herself made a quick search for the few tools required. "Make yourself comfortable." She didn't really think she needed to tell him she'd need access to the wound.

She didn't. The only hiccough came in the fact that the wound was too far up his thigh to simply roll up his trouser leg. Solomon closed the door firmly and made his way to the exam table, and leaned his cane against it so he could unbutton and remove his trousers with an air of resignation.

Healers. He appreciated them, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the examinations.

"How does your healing magic work?" he asked as he took a careful seat on the bed. His bandages were recently changed with the sort of professionalism a field medic might have, but not much more; Solomon knew enough to maintain his injuries, but not much else. "Direct magical healing in my world is usually done through touch, rather than items."

She might have taken longer than strictly necessary assembling what she needed, if only to give Solomon adequate time to sort himself out without being stared at. "All magic in my world is based on mana. It's the essence of life, and is integral to all things." A slight pause, to pick which details to edit. "Some people have the ability to sense and manipulate the mana within the land and within themselves. With study, they can achieve impressive effects, which usually fall within one of eight elemental domains. Healing artes, however, sit a little outside those."

Raine pushed her sleeves a little farther up her arms, collected her few tools on a tray for easy access, and crossed to Solomon. Her staff she leaned in a corner, to be retrieved later. "The best text on the subject is unfortunately incomplete," she continued, head bent to examine the bandaging job. "The author theorized that in addition to mana, people hold within them a second, different source of power, which is used for healing artes and is what makes them not truly an elemental technique. I'm inclined to agree with his conclusions. I'd intended to pick up his research, when our journey was done, but circumstances have thus far conspired against me."

As she spoke, she worked at the bandages, undoing the tidy job with careful precision. "So my own energy, that mix of mana and the, hmm, other, is used to both galvanize and fuel your natural healing beyond its usual limits. As to my staff, it's a focus, an amplifying tool. Not strictly necessary for my work, but prudent for efficiency's sake. Does that begin to answer your question?"

"It does," Solomon said thoughtfully. The main thing he had been wondering was whether or not the magic was stored in her staff. "Magic in my world doesn't usually require an item, but it's customary to have a focus in my specific discipline. It aids control."

He leaned back on his hands to give her room to work, glancing at the tools. "Our magic is a theorised to spring from the true name of our soul, which defines our selves and our abilities. Knowing one's true name means having access to magic beyond imagination."

He smiled wryly. "Most of us manage without that advantage, of course. Otherwise our magic only has two fields--Elementalism and Adepts."

Oh. She recognized this explanation, or a version of it. Interesting. She tucked that data away, and proceeded as if she hadn't, in order to see what differences there might be. "And what is your specific discipline? Which field does it fall into?"

She'd only assembled a few tools in the end-- tweezers, surgical scissors, gauze just in case. She reached for the first now, and surveyed the healing wound with a critical eye. "This will likely feel uncomfortable, but shouldn't cause actual pain. If it does, say something."

Cautious at first, Raine took hold of the first knot in the neat line of stitches with the tweezers, and lifted gently until she could safely take the scissors to it, and snip it free. Careful and steady, she pulled the stitch the rest of the way out.

"I'm a Necromancer," Solomon said, watching her sidelong and unobtrusively. People tended to have the same reaction to his magic, though exactly how well they controlled it varied to several degrees. "An Adept."

He had wondered what people from other dimensions might know about the magic from the perspective of their own experience. Raine seemed far too assured to react badly, or at least to show it overly much, but given how weighted her dimension's magic was weighted toward elements and healing ... Then again, she hadn't defined the 'elements', either.

"Of course." He watched her snip the stitch and pull it out. It felt familiar, but vaguely uncomfortable; most of his injuries were healed purely through magic, but he still remembered several incidents during the war which made stitches necessary. "You say your world's magic relies upon the elements. How do you define them?"

Raine's hands stilled briefly over the next stitch. "Death magic, if I understand you correctly?" And she moved on as if she hadn't stopped. "I don't think there's much explicitly comparable in my world." Lift, snip, and pull. "Our elements are defined in four opposing pairs: fire and ice, water and lightning, wind and earth, light and darkness. Very few magical things fall outside those eight. The division of the sectors here gave me pause, at first," she added, as an afterthought.

She pressed on along the line of stitches with the tweezers and scissors, more confident but no less gentle. "I can think of any number of things that might fall under the purview of necromancy. How broad a discipline is it?"

"Quite so." Solomon watched the movement of her hands with a sort of resigned, indulgent amusement. He hadn't been wrong about either her reaction or the subtlety of it. The fact she asked more about it was somewhat less usual.

"It does make sense for magic to run on a balance in such a way," Solomon said thoughtfully. "Our magic is not quite so explicit, though what one strives toward often requires a sacrifice--in magical terms, of course."

It took a moment longer to decide just how to answer her question. "That depends upon your definition of the word 'broad' and the nature of your elements, but 'narrow', I should think. Our most common techniques involve the manipulation of shadows, but our more complicated techniques do include sensing or raising the dead."

Raine was always a proponent of more knowledge, regardless of her doubt of the subject. "By a sacrifice, do you mean simply energy or something a bit more permanent?" She kept up her work, not looking up despite the multitude of questions he was raising. "And when you say raising the dead, how do you mean it? An echo of what was once, or a true resurrection?"

For some kind of context on exactly why she was pressing that angle, she added, "Shadows are darkness, and I know of enough mages who have a talent for them, but death is generally considered incontrovertible. There." She had been moving along steadily all the while, and now she pulled the last in the row free. Sutures discarded, she set her tools aside and reached for her staff.

"It depends on the magic," Solomon explained. "Commonly our magic requires no items or focusses, but the power of Necromancy is such that we prefer to refine our control through similar items as your staff. These items can be anything, but they must be specially forged." He was carrying few items himself--his cane being the most notable. It was mundane, however. So were all his other items. In the event Raine had any magic-sensing abilities, she'd be able to tell he had no such item on him.

"Other sacrifices take other forms." He smiled. "For instance, our Elementals are very fond of fire-magic. I once heard about a man who tailored all his magic into being impervious to fire. He later fell into a river and dissolved from the inside-out as a result."

The last of the sutures disappearing made his leg itch. Solomon shifted and resisted the urge to rub the closed wound. "I wouldn't call them echoes, but they're far from true resurrections. The least are zombies which retain their intelligence for a handful of days before becoming beasts. The greatest the Necromancers have collectively managed are undying but unmagical beings under the thrall of their masters."

The White Cleaver was one of those. Solomon wondered what had happened to it. He wasn't even sure it was still alive, relatively speaking, though if so it would have reported back to the Temple. "That being said we've had some experience with vague resurrections," he said with a sigh. "You may have met or heard of an animated skeleton wandering the turtle; he is one. Accidental and only half-successful, but one of the two nearest incidents to resurrection."

Naturally, everything came back to Skulduggery Pleasant. Not only Skulduggery, but Skulduggery's odd intensity with regard to the mysterious black armour. Because, of course, the other incident was related to Lord Vile, and Lord Vile's ability to animate sorcerers, fully magic-capable and still apparently themselves--but under thrall. Solomon didn't particularly want to talk about those.

"...Yes, I've met Skulduggery," Raine said, a little dryly. He was a hard person to forget, especially when virulently violet. "You do come from the same world, then." Explicit confirmation was a nice thing to have, even if she'd been relatively sure before.

That wasn't all she'd taken away from what he'd said, but it was the most immediate. She turned her staff over in her hands, an idle gesture, her gaze distant for a moment or two as she turned over the idea of actual possible resurrections. "Perhaps the price of a life surpasses that which most can pay?" she suggested finally, and lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug. "If sacrifice -- and balance? -- are such key concepts..." Raine shook her head. "No, I don't know enough to speculate reasonably. And in any case, that's not what you came here for."

She lowered her staff in the same manner she had before, till the head did not quite touch his leg, and half-closed her eyes. The circle appeared only very briefly; this was a spell with which she had been familiar for many, many years. "First aid," she said, quiet, and pale green light glowed over the wound, leaving the barest of scars in its wake when it vanished. "Any residual discomfort?"

"I rather thought you might have remembered him," Solomon answered, equally dryly. "Yes, we do. Our loving reunion was evidence of that, I'm sure." For a given definition of 'loving', naturally.

"If that were true, Skulduggery should not exist at all," Solomon said, and shook his head. "Then again, the nature of his existence isn't precisely what one might call optimal." Even the Necromancers, who sought immortality, had never seriously considered attempting to duplicate Skulduggery's condition.

He watched with a vague sort of curiosity as she lowered her staff. Last time he had been in altogether too much pain to pay much attention to the process. He honestly wasn't expecting to sense anything out of it, particularly given the sheer proximity of the office to the main part of the hospital. Hospitals were understandably imbued with death, nearly as much as graveyards. There was a reason the Baron had chosen one as his base of operations.

Nevertheless, when Raine's magic surged Solomon was quite unprepared for what felt like a Necromantic item. He almost flinched away from the touch of the staff and managed only to still instead, his gaze fixing on the glimpse of some sort of pendant sitting just beneath her collarbone.

"No," he said quietly, a touch surprised by that, and looked up at her. "I was given to understand you had nothing comparable to Necromancy in your world? Or did that item--" He inclined his head toward her hand. "--come from elsewhere?'

Edited 2014-06-06 03:41 (UTC)

For a moment she was perplexed, gave him a look like he'd started speaking in tongues, but realization struck quickly. "...ah," she said, and cupped her free hand over the item in question. "No-- this came with me."

Raine gave him a long, measured look, fingers tapping on her collarbone thoughtfully. "You sense death and the dead," she said finally, "so it would be pointless to dissemble. It's not magic, at least. Nor is death the focus, merely a side-effect. But a human life went into its making and gave it the power it has, yes. I suppose in that manner it would be considered necromancy by your standards, but it was not an intentional obfuscation on my part."

After a moment's more thought, she opened her collar a little so he could see the item in question properly. It was a small, pale blue orb, possessed of its own dim radiance, and mounted in some soft golden metal. The metal was graven in intricate designs that could be a foreign language. The whole thing was no bigger across than her palm, and though it had the appearance of a pendant there was no chain: rather, the orb was set into her flesh. "It's called an exsphere," she said, her expression one of studied blankness. "It's part of why I'm as effective as I am."

If he could perceive death, he could likely get some sense of how the exsphere had been created. Solomon seemed a decent sort of person, but that was never a guarantee. His reaction would likely determine exactly how open Raine was going to be on the topic.

"Death is very rarely at its most powerful when it's the focus," Solomon observed. "It's power is in the shadow it casts. That's why Necromancers use shadows. They crave definition." Nothing defined so clearly and sharply as death.

It looked like a brooch, but one that attached to skin instead of fabric. Solomon had to wonder whether it was a permanent, painful fixture, or something that could be exchanged at need and will. Given the sacrifice that went into it, he rather thought the former--if only by Raine's choice. Curious, though, that it powered healing. Was that because of who used it, or its feature? If Solomon used it, what would happen?

A chill ran down his spine and the whisper of the deaths in the hospital seemed a touch sharper. Not for the first time, he wished he had his own item to stand between him and the shadows. He rubbed the fading scar for want of something to do with his hands and, in the end, shrugged. "It seems foolish to allow such a death be wasted when your use of it can save lives."

So long as he never had to touch it. Part of him wanted to know what would happen if he did. The rest knew that very urge made it dangerous. He'd come too far, for to long, to make the mistake of falling to an unbound item.

The power of death is in the shadow it casts. Raine could not help but think of one woman, whose death had cast a world in shadow for four thousand years, and she found she rather agreed with Solomon's observation. Martel's absence had been so much more than the simple fact of her death.

She fastened her collar up properly again, hiding the exsphere away. It wasn't something she was especially sanguine about advertising. "That was much my line of thought, when we first learned just what they were. If it had been me, I would prefer to be of use."

Raine watched him for another few moments more, still thinking. Solomon's pragmatic assessment had warmed her to him, illogically, as had his failure to press for detail regarding exspheres. "Are you well?" she asked finally, indicating the scar that remained. He seemed perhaps a bit subdued, though admittedly she had very little knowledge of his usual behavior off which to base the theory.

Solomon couldn't say whether or not he'd want to be of use once he died, but the fact of the matter was that he probably would be in some fashion to some other Necromancer. It was a matter of practicality, and arguing against it seemed particularly useless.

Well, aside from the fact that he would rather not die at all.

His attention snapped back to her with her question and his hand stilled. "Quite well, thank you," he said. Now that he knew the exsphere was there, it seemed rather difficult to overlook at all. "As I said, Necromancers prefer to focus their magic through items. I simply wasn't expecting to find one here, and it startled me."

In the middle of the greatest concentration of death in any city save an actual graveyard. He rose from the bed, testing the weight on his newly healed leg almost automatically, and retrieved his pants.

"Of course." Familiarity in an unexpected place would startle anyone. She wasn't convinced that was all it was, but had insufficient data for any conclusion. She watched him test his leg with a sharp eye, looking for any hint that her arte had not quite been enough.

It looked to hold his weight well enough, at least. "I hope your 'engagement' runs as smoothly as can be expected," she added. He had been inspecific, but something purely social would not require a fully healed leg. "And don't hesitate to return if it becomes necessary." Solomon had sense, and likely didn't need to be told, but it was as close as she would come to admonishing a grown man to be careful.

"So do I," Solomon said dryly, pulling his trousers back up and tucking in his shirt and vest, and buckling his belt. "Unfortunately, I don't expect it to run very smoothly at all, so the sentiment rather loses its effect in that case."

He inclined his head. "I will. With luck, if not expectation, there won't be a need for it after said engagement. Good day, Healer Raine."

Without needing or waiting for a response, Solomon went to leave.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN] Eshai Memorial Hospital May catch-all

for RAINE. before the mod-mission.

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