[OPEN] Septimus June catch-all

[survival_isnt_living]

Characters: Gaius Septimus and YOU!
Date: All of June
Location: Hospital, around Keeliai
Situation: Come chat with Septimus, whether about his organizing stuff or other things. Some threadstarters, do your own or request one!
Warnings/Rating: None yet.

A.: Hospital
After making his announcement--and, to a certain extent, throwing down a gauntlet—Septimus is at the hospital as much as starting to train in earnest allows. He can be found doing any number of tasks: making sure there is a ready supply of clean water, healing (sadly more and more important with the cultists and such—handling whatever administrative tasks he needs to, and frequently holding meetings whether they are actually on hospital business or not.

The very lucky few—and ones who know Septimus better—may be fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to notice when he begins to get stretched a little thin.

All the same, it’s the best place to find him.

B.: Keeliai
When he is not at the hospital, or doing what rest and food is necessary, Septimus is generally around various parts of Keeliai. Whether this is simply on regular-day wandering and exploring, or going out to practice, he is mostly easy to run into after standard work day hours or mid-day on what is supposed to be a lunch or dinner break. And these days he tends to have at least his long-sword on him when he isn’t actively healing.

When he is out practicing, he isn’t just armed but armored, in full Roman Legion-esque gear. Watching him, sometimes it’s just swordwork, but often he isn’t just doing that, he’s working with his furycrafting too. If you watch him practicing, his sword will often be on fire, he may be working with water and air and earth—earth and fire together, sometimes, for extra deadly combination—and even rarely wood.

C.: Other people’s locations
Given that some of the meetings he wants to happen aren’t going to be at the hospital, but at places whoever he’s meeting with feels most comfortable, sometimes you will get him turning up on your doorstep, maybe with paper in hand for notes, maybe not.

Comments

Iroh

[survival_isnt_living]

[Iroh may only be able to write in Chinese, but that's okay; Septimus is barely able to read in English and some of that is compromised by being more familiar with the slight mix of English and Kedanese that the hospital uses. (He really needs to learn more consistently.)

Either way, as far as Septimus is concerned, this is just one more bizarre and indecipherable way of writing. Sure, it's even more so, with no relation to anything fundamentally Germanic or Latin, but all the same, it's a feeling he's used to.

And, in this case, it's even helpful: having no idea what any of the posters relating to the tea shop say peaks his curiosity, and after beginning the likely grueling work of trying to forge the fairly unconnected Foreigners into a true unit, he could use a little adventure. So one day Iroh gets a curious young man wandering into the shop and looking around curiously.]

Re: Iroh

[whitelotustile]

[ Iroh isn't the sort of owner who spends most of the time behind the scenes, so he's quite willing to put an apron on and serve tea, especially when it's slow enough he doesn't have to constantly supervise filling orders.

[So he looks up when Sep enters and acknowledges him with a wave.]

Good afternoon. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon.

B

[gathersnomoss]

[ Thanks to a little boost from Asti, Zelgadis had an hour of the day spent in his old human body, an hour he never spent on-duty on the hospital if he could help it, and not just because his magic reserves were a lot less as a human. He'd take off for a long lunch and run errands while enjoying the fact that he could feel sunlight and wind a lot clearer on human skin.]

[Of course, that didn't stop him from saying hello to a co-worker.]

Aren't you supposed to be eating lunch as well?

[ Granted, Zel's lunch was mostly street food from vendors, whatever he could eat while moving. But it was food.]

A

[iguanasolution]

Despite his experience going to more than a year, Frank is definitely no doctor... and hardly a nurse. Still, considering the situation it's not like he's got much of a choice- and actually he wouldn't have it any other way. As long as he gets to do something, to feel like he's being helpful... he'll take it.

"I changed the moist towels on the patient with the burns." He says conversationally. "Is there anything else I can do?"

A.

[wintershepherd]

Jack drops by the hospital after receiving the message from Sep, though he's only halfway certain he knows why since he's never volunteered here before. In fact it takes him several moments once he's inside to even get himself oriented, having only visited the Natu Clinic before. He hasn't exactly been taking it easy with everything that's going on, even with the weather getting progressively warmer and so looks a little drawn when he arrives, though he's quick with a ready smile.

"Septimus?"

A

[dracobin]

There is, Temeraire thinks, very little sense in responding to his summons via the network when everyone knows perfectly well it is not secure. As such, he wastes no time in writing--whatever Mr Septimus wishes to talk about, it cannot possibly be something he should wish Malicant to know about--but instead gathers himself up and takes to the skies.

He lands a short distance away from the hospital--he should not like to alarm the patients, after all--and proceeds the rest of the way by foot, careful to keep his movements slow and measured. As convenient as being shrunk has occasionally been, he has learned that not everyone considers him as tiny as he does.

The kedan at the door is decidedly not Mr Septimus, but is well aware of who he is; that message dispatched, Temeraire settles down to wait outside, stretching his neck out to enjoy the warmth of the midday sun.

C

[peacefullywreathed]

The message left on the network, while unwise, was alluring. Solomon was certainly feeling restless about his circumstances right now, and without much else to do a collaboration certainly seemed the best avenue to pursue.

The problem was that the man responsible spent most of his time in the hospital. Solomon did not want to approach the hospital in his current frame of mind. The hospital was filled with far too much ... power. The power of those who had died there. The last thing Solomon needed right now was the lure of more souls.

Instead Solomon did a bit of investigative work to find the man's living-area. It was on the man's own ground, but then, the hospital was the man's own ground. Either way Solomon went to Septimus's apartment, spent enough time in the vicinity to know the man was present, and then knocked on the door.

[survival_isnt_living]

[Septimus nods in reply to the wave, expression mildly bemused.]

Your establishment smells quite good. [Really, there aren't places like this in Alera, and going by his expression it's fairly obvious.] Are dragons native to where you come from, or is the name inspired by some of our residents?

[Because Septimus had never seen one in his life before.]

[survival_isnt_living]

[Septimus glances over and very nearly makes a face at him, immature though it may be. His voice, however, is amused and mild.]

I could be intending to purchase food from one of the vendors and simply haven't made up my mind yet which.

[Which is actually true, in this case; while he can go longer than he really should without sleep, he tries at least to eat regularly to off-set the energy drain.]

[survival_isnt_living]

Septimus blinks for a moment before pinching the bridge of his nose. He may look a little tired for a fraction of a moment, but it passes as he exhales explosively. There's always more to do around here; he'd never entirely appreciated just how hard Tribunes Medica worked.

"Yes, the burn patient. You see to someone getting me a tub of water and helping get him into it; I've got the time to speed that up."

He's starting to tap more deeply into his own reserves, but burns are nasty things. It will take extensive time and energy to see to, but no one should have to live with it. Septimus can just live with the weariness. Right?

[gathersnomoss]

You could. Do you need a recommendation?

[whitelotustile]

They were native in my grandfather's day, so they are remembered. But it is good to see dragons here.

[ Dragons in Iroh's time are pretending to be extinct, and Iroh is keeping that secret to his grave. ]

Would you like some tea? This is a shop, but I think I can afford a free sample.

A!

[solo_patria]

Enjolras, having gotten the message from Septimus, had planned on seeing him directly before his shift, but the way that his morning had run, with oversleeping, hair that refused to cooperate, and a certain tribble who'd escaped his cage, had actually made him a few minutes late to start his shift; forget about having time for a meeting then.

Afterwards though, as his shift was wrapping up, and everyone on it was going home, he made his way to the office where he had been interviewed, rather curious as to what was going on. It seemed bigger than simply him, at any rate, which could bode rather terribly for the future.

Still, you never knew until you asked, or in this case, until you answered. So, here he was, ready for just that, leaning a little on the doorway as he knocked.

"You wished to speak with me?"

[iguanasolution]

Frank was actually going to get the water himself, anything to help. He can definitely appreciate how much work the man in front of him has been doing and, even if he doesn't really understand the kind of healing he did he can't deny how efficient it is.

Frank can only do so much to those that hadn't been healed yet with Bianca's training, but Septimus still has to do a big part of the job. It's really not surprising how tired he looks... or at least it hadn't been, up to a point.

"Are you sure? They are just first grade burns, and I've already treated them as much as I can, they should heal nicely. I'm sure it can wait. ...I- I hope I'm not intruding, but you just really tired.

Uh.

Sir."

A, probably early June

[ruinsprofessor]

The hospital is the easiest place for Raine to find Septimus, and once she's gotten the note from him, she finds a free piece of time in which to track him down. She has the note in one hand, though she doesn't really need to re-read it. "You needed me for something?"

A written summons isn't really something she'd call usual. There's a hundred different things on her mind, language and other foreigners and the strangely crafted dagger she found and the scarce history of the city, but for the moment she puts them to rest and gives Septimus her focus.

[survival_isnt_living]

[Septimus understands keeping secrets all too well.

The offer earns a quick, grateful, and really rather boyish grin.]

I've been a soldier too long to be foolish enough to reject such kindness. Thank you.

[survival_isnt_living]

I think I could use one, yes. I'm not always gifted at hazarding guesses as to which of these has edible food.

[survival_isnt_living]

The immediate instinct, set deep in Septimus, is to dismiss Frank's concern with a casual wave, because it's nothing he can't handle, the concern has been noted and cataloged but there is work to be done. The instinct which follows immediately after is to just as casually remind the boy that he has a name and using it won't cheapen it at all.

Which is about when it sinks in that no, this is not Alera, this is not his Legion, and this is not a new youngster with the rank and position to get the privilege of dropped formalities: this is a place without those rules hemming him in at all.

As a result Septimus actually pauses to re-order his thoughts before turning to give Frank a smile. "And I'm sure you did a good job," he says warmly. "I just want to give it a boost--the more patients we can get whole and out of here, the less of a problem we'll have when the next attack tries to overwhelm us."

Simple numbers, right? Not at all hubris.

(Maybe a little bit of hubris.)

[survival_isnt_living]

Raine's lucky in that he had been headed to his office anyway; Septimus is slightly less lucky in that he'd been hoping for at least half an hour to himself to get some sitting and reading done--or, if he's honest, a nap. But apparently duty calls.

So he just locks down the weariness beneath his usual confidence (and he can only hope she doesn't have a way of sensing whether his energy is lower than it ought to be).

"Yes, I did. Come have a seat." He nods at the chair on the visitor side of his desk.

[survival_isnt_living]

As unwise as it might have been to say so openly, Septimus did know it was; it was a highly calculated move (if also somewhat reckless). He might not be devious, but he knows effective measures need a leader, and regardless of the threat to himself he knows how to do it.

And someone unafraid to take a stand is something both Malicant and the people here needed to see, in his (not actually very humble) opinion.

Still, he was not expecting to get the response to that knock on the door to his new shared living space. Given the multiple people now living there, Septimus blinks at Solomon for several moments. "I'm afraid I'm the only one here, if you're looking for either of the others."

[survival_isnt_living]

Septimus is going through some reading--a slow, painstaking process to say the least--when Enjolras knocks, and as fascinating as the reading is (going through some of the notes Kyle left for him) frankly he's more than ready for a break. As a result, the interruption is more than welcome.

His smile is, as a result, quick and genuine--and perhaps just faintly tired. "Yes, I did. Come in, sit down." The latter is added after a rueful glance at a chair to confirm he didn't deposit papers on it.

He hadn't, but that he had to check is probably somewhat indicative of his real mental state.

[survival_isnt_living]

Septimus knows that look of being a little too drawn; he's been hiding it himself as he extends his time and energy more and more. He knows very little about Jack, honestly, beyond what has been on the network posts (and Septimus rarely follows up on the conversations in depth), but he doesn't need to for his swift decision.

"Yes. Good to meet you properly." He offers a hand. "My office can be a little quieter than the rest of this madhouse." The latter is said fondly and with pride.

The other advantage to his office is that with a closed door he can probably keep the room cooler, but he won't say that out loud.

[survival_isnt_living]

Well, this is a first, Septimus can't help but think as he takes in his first proper view of the dragon.

The message that Temeraire was there to see him arrived very quickly indeed--dragons being somewhat rare sights around the hospital, after all. It was as much eager curiosity as simple courtesy that had Septimus wrapping up his business as efficiently as he could to go speak with his visitor. After all, the only distinctly non-human sentient creatures on Carna (that he knew of) were the Canim; there were no dragons at all, sentient or not.

He couldn't deny there was a boyish eagerness involved here too.

Still, years of politics keeps that buried (for the most part), although the curiosity still lingers somewhat visibly. "Temeraire? I'm Septimus."

He's tall, for a human--six foot four, maybe a little taller--and Temeraire has known enough soldiers he'd probably recognize the absently precise military posture Septimus carries himself with.

[iguanasolution]

Frank nods, but he doesn't look all that convinced. He knows better than to intrude, he can't imagine what it must be like to have so much power and not manage to heal and save everyone- so it understandable, in a way. And if the authority figure says he's fine then he's supposed to believe it. Frank might not be Aleran, but he's still very much a legionnaire. And as far as he's concerned Septimus should get the same respect he gives a Praetor.

But, thing is, he was never the best of legionnaires.

"With all due respects, if you tire yourself up we might end up overwhelmed even before said hypothetical attack happens."

[survival_isnt_living]

So long as he follows direct orders where necessary and works for the good of the... whatever it is they are, here on the Turtle, as far as Septimus is concerned? Frank may not be impecable legionare, questioning his commander like that, but he seems like absolutely sterling material for a highly talented officer.

Besides which, the tone and phrasing is just right, and as a result Septimus just gives the boy a rueful glance. "I'm aware, which is why I won't be doing more than nudging things along." He does know his own limits. Usually.

(He just ignores those limits sometimes. It's the prerogative of being an absurdly overpowered compulsive fixer.)

"But I'll take it under consideration." The matter might be closed for now, but he wants Frank to know he is listening, at least.