thebastion | Day 201 :: log/action spam [OPEN] ::

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Day 201 :: log/action spam [OPEN] ::

Who: Jay, N, Seimei and anyone else who wants to help Jay look for a cure or at least a good antipyretic
Open: Open
When: Day 201
Where: The hospital
What: Jay sees an opportunity to tinker with medical shit and takes it.
Format: log and action spam. I'll match you.
Warnings: Jay's foul mouth.

A - for those wishing to assist

Jay has found a long, white smock that he deemed an acceptable substitute for a doctor's coat and a face mask. He hasn't been able to find rubber gloves, so he has settled for scrubbing up every hour or so. He seems rather nervous, but it's mostly nervous energy, not anxiety over the situation. So what if he dies? The depression he's been in since ending up at the Bastion seems to be protecting him from the terror of death.

He's currently powdering willow bark with a pestle and mortar. It's drudge work, but his assistants haven't turned up yet and someone has to do it.

Despite everything, he's still wearing makeup and his nails are painted a bright cerise. And he's even got false eyelashes on.

B - for the sick who wish to interact with Jay

Occasionally, Jay does the rounds and checks up on the sick. All he can do for them right now is fetch them water, damp washcloths and to take their blood for analysis. His bedside manner isn't perfect and he seems rather run off his feet.

Later in the day, he might be testing the willow bark extract for its fever-reducing properties, if anyone feels like being a guinea pig.

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...Do you need help?

[Because goodness if Zulf isn't looking for further excuses to ignore any attempts at sleep. He's no follower of Jevel himself, but he can follow basic instructions. Clinging to his skirts is the now constant presence of his Cubone.]

[Jay peers at the Cubone with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. What the hell is it? A large lizard wearing a skull?]

[He looks up at Zulf, once again not quite meeting his eye, choosing to look at the man's nose instead and hope he won't notice.]

Ah, yes, actually, darling. Help would be very much appreciated!

[Don't ask, Jay. Zulf did and now he regrets it.]

[Zulf doesn't question the lack of eye contact. There are more important things to worry about right now.]

Simply tell me what to do, then. While I'm afraid this isn't something I can boast any skill in, I can follow directions well enough.

[Jay pauses, then picks up the pestle and mortar and hands it to Zulf.]

Grind this bloody fucking willow bark for me, darling, my hands are starting to cramp.

[He looks down at the Cubone.]

So, ah. Who are you?

{Zulf has been with enough Caels and Rin to not bat an eye at the swearing. He just obeys and promptly gets to work. It's only when the question is directed to the Cubone does he give a brief pause.]

Ah... I haven't come up with a name for this little one yet. It's a creature known as a Cubone. Apparently in one of the other worlds, creatures like it were called Pokemon and were apparently quite common. Humans bonded with them. At least, that's all from what I understand.

[Jay crouches down on the floor to be closer to eye-level with the Cubone. He reaches out a hand to gingerly pat the pokemon's skull.]

Oh. So, er, are they anything like spirits? How friendly is this one?

No, more like... Intelligent animals, I think. You would have to speak further with AZ.

This one is friendly although- [And that's when Cubone reaches out to bap at Jay with its bone club. It's not meant to hurt- just a little tap.] -Ah. It keeps hitting things with that... I apologize.

It's all right! It didn't actually hurt.

[Jay gets up. He's rather charmed by Cubone but he has to get back to work.]

The state of medicine here is atrocious, darling. I couldn't even find a microscope!

[Zulf just keeps working- it's good for his mind to have a distraction after everything that's happened and what he's learned.]

I apologize. The hospital seems to be a rather recent acquisition.

There's also the fact that Cael medicine involves a good portion of liquor involved. [A slight sigh. Caels and booze, just, why forever.] When this is all over and if none of us are dead, you'll have to speak to Georges about it.

Things such as Bastion Bourbon, Mender Mead... They actually have restorative properties if you can hold your drink. Caelondia never allowed anything that wasn't useful for productivity in some manner.

[Jay shakes his head in dismay. He's liking the Caels less and less the more he learns about them.]

Urgh. No, no, I'm not giving alcohol to patients unless it's a tincture of something that has to be preserved. Good Lord, liver failure must've been endemic before the Calamity.

[Says a man who'd happily drink himself to death given half a chance. But at least he knows it's doing harm.]

[That earns maybe a dry chuckle.]

The Menders did things more professionally, if it's any consolation to you, but I can't tell you more than that. I never knew any while I was in Caelondia.

The- [Ah, translation limitations, right-] -The sect in charge of medicine in my home of the Tazal Terminals also didn't have anything like what you're asking, but they kept their methods secret and close to their hearts. I just know they were very efficient. They made the cure for the plague when it first struck the Terminals.

[Jay frowns, not quite sure he understands, but decides to think about it later. Or to question Zulf when they're both less busy.]

Secrecy in medicine rarely leads to good things, darling. Urgh. I don't suppose they left any encrypted treatises?

I believe they thought they didn't have much other choice. Many groups in the Terminals didn't want Caelondia to have Ura knowledge.

Either way, anything they'd leave behind... It would certainly be far off from here, in the east.

[He shifts a bit, switching hands now as he keeps going.]

Oh. Hmph! Disappointing.

[Jay doesn't comment on the circumstances. He can relate to not wanting certain groups to get their hands on your people's knowledge, but he's far from comfortable talking about it.]

Are you getting tired, darling? I can take over again, if you're not used to this kind of work ...

Oh no, I'm fine. If I am getting tired, it's not because of this. I've just been... busy.

[And not sleeping. Sh.]

[Jay gives Zulf a suspicious look.]

Busy with what, darling? You do look ... unwell.

[By now quite used to being side-eyed during these bouts, Zulf tries to casually shift a slightly further distance away as if he's afraid Jay will suddenly reach out and grab him.]

Simply... Making sure everything is clean, and... everyone is doing as well as they can with how they are.

[Jay looks at Zulf, lips pursed.]

Darling, you ... ah. You aren't obliged to take care of everyone, you know.

[Most of Zulf's body language is in his shoulders. Right now, they couldn't be any more tense.]

I'm aware.

[Jay shakes his head, but says nothing. He's concerned, but it's clear Zulf isn't accepting help. The last thing he wants to do is get on Zulf's nerves.]

Seimei isn't doing so well now, by his second day of illness. The fever is making him a little delirious, though he is at least able to recognize the symptom in himself and stay put, forcing himself to drink whatever water people bring him, eat whatever gets left in his room. He doesn't want any of it, he wants to sleep and bury himself under blankets but he's been forbidden to do so since his chills aren't real and his fever is.

When Jay comes around administering willow bark extract the onmyoji turns his head slowly, dark eyes bottomless pools beneath a thick veil of lashes, his impossibly long black hair falling off the sides of the bed and curling around him like sleeping snakes. He watches, unfamiliar with this new face but not unwilling to accept any treatment that might help someone else. He's quite fed up with being poked and prodded, of course, but says nothing about, too tired anymore to care.

Still, he is curious about the archaic medicine, pleased by the application where he was afraid Colin wasn't taking him seriously about using herbalism to treat symptoms and prolong patient life.

"Apothecary?" he asked, in a dry, cracked voice.

Jay raised an eyebrow at Seimei and smirked in response, though it was sardonic rather than unkind or mocking. The fact Seimei's voice is so laboured worried him, but he chose to say nothing, for fear of scaring Seimei. Instead, he handed the man the glass of water he was carrying.

"Drink this first, dearest," he said. "And ah, no, I'm actually more of an alchemist and ... anatomist ..." yes, those are good euphemisms for what his actual skills are, "but many principles are the same. And I know what aspirin is made of. This should reduce your fever, but I cannot guarantee the concentration is adequate. You aren't haemophiliac, are you?" Don't ever let Jay talk about medicine of any kind. Death isn't his only deep fascination.

Seimei could barely hold the glass and suddenly appreciated Colin giving him that strange sippy cup thing. Still, he managed to tip the glass to his mouth, drinking carefully despite his hands feeling like jelly. Being the first person sick had absolutely no perks whatsoever.At least when he spoke, there was no fear in him.

Merely weary resignation.

"Starfury-san did not do as I suggested...but here you are, using willow...if you have access to the outside...you should go to my house. I have many more ingredients. I studied medicine for a time and wrote everything I recalled. The books and things..." He broke off into a slow fit of painful coughing, curling in on himself and rubbing sweat from his eyes irritably.

Oh, he thought, how the mighty have fallen.

"I couldn't find aspirin," Jay said, by way of explanation. He sounded a little defensive. "I'm not sure I'm supposed to break quarantine, but ... I think I'll try to sneak out, anyway." He sighed and made a vague, swishy gesture with both hands. "I'm not a doctor, dearest, I'm an alchemist and anatomist. If this could be solved by dissecting a corpse or two or by transmutation, we wouldn't be having this outbreak right now, but, alas--"

He hugged himself, looking down at his feet. He didn't seem very comfortable with his lack of usefulness in this situation. After all, he was supposed to be brilliant and talented -- he was supposed to be able to solve problems like these. But the causative agent of the illness was refusing to be cultured and that meant it was either a virus or something very exotic, neither things he felt he had sufficient competency with.

He heard the defensiveness, though he wasn't sure what inspired it. Perhaps a misunderstanding...

"It is good to see someone using forms of medicine I understand," he murmured, turning himself onto his side. Long hair whispered across the fabric as he pushed himself to move despite it feeling as though the weight of the world was pushing him down. His bones ached and felt brittle in his body, the fever was excruciating to the point of feeling as though his head was aflame and his body felt frigid.

Miserable hardly described it.

"As I hear it...the quarantine has not prevented anything...now its just a race to cure it before too many people die," he murmured in his too formal manner of speech, fully aware he was likely to be the first Bastion casualty.

"I offer you access to my supplies because someone should be making use of them," he paused, coughing until his head throbbed and his eyes stung. By the time he got himself under control he had already dropped the glass of water. It didn't shatter, thankfully, but it did roll across the floor and spill its contents.

"Forgive me," he wheezed, a pale hand pressing to his chest, sweat trickling into his eyes and forcing him to blink and squint constantly. "My work with medicine will stave off the symptoms. Helping the fever and coughs may prolong life...it is a slim thread of hope for the others."

Jay, almost on instinct, lay a hand against Seimei's cheek, then withdrew it with some alarm. The fever certainly was higher than he'd witnessed in a while, at least in anyone that ended up living.

"I appreciate you sharing resources," he said, though he sounded a little apprehensive and uncharacteristically shy. "I'm merely ... I'm not qualified, but no one else is qualified, either." He looked at Seimei, helplessly, imagining the torment the scholar must be in. "I don't think anyone has died yet, however. Many wish they were dead, of course." His tone turned bitter. "I swear, this is almost as bad as the red plague and at least that killed in ways less awful than boiling to death in your own skin."

"It is quite dreadful," he replied, chuckling softly in spite of everything, reaching up to rub tears away with the back of his hand. Crying had become a thing recently. He never wept for anything, really, but the illness was so consumptive and the defeat of knowing he would never leave the hospital coupled with regret for things not said and done with Kaoru was really starting to get to him.

There was a flutter of gratitude for the touch, however brief, before it was taken away, leaving him gazing quietly up at Jay.

"I keep detailed records. Anyone can learn...the recipes are not that complex. If you think to use willow for the fever, you are more q--*coughcough*..qualified than you believe. Why doubt yourself now, when you are one of the few able to help?"

Jay searched for a handkerchief in the inner pockets of his jacket and after a minute or so, pulled out a dazzling white silk one that was both incredibly frilly and elaborately embroidered with gold thread. He handed it to Seimei, heedless of the fact using it for its intended purposes would ruin its look a little.

"I'm unschooled," he said, quietly. "Thank you for your faith in me, darling, but I'm entirely an autodictat! Well, ah, my master taught me many things. But he was not ... he was not very good at formal schooling." Jay sighed. "I know a lot about a lot, but it's all very surface knowledge except in certain esoteric subjects that are inapplicable to medicine as such, even if they have much in common with it." No, he's not going to say "necromancy" aloud. Not here. Not yet. Or perhaps not ever.

"Formal school is not necessary," he remarked, taking the handkerchief as carefully as he could. For a moment he wasn't sure what it was for, until the tears welled up again unbidden. Then he knew. Mercy when had he ever had so little control of himself? Well...there was the one time.

"What matters is the desire to learn, the love of knowledge. Everything else is meaningless. I have seen great men and women, paragons of their field, who were never fortunate enough to afford formal lessons. I have seen the most educated of men fail completely at their chosen field, in turn. It is all a matter of passion. Nothing more, nothing less," he murmured, coughs punctuating everything in odd places, the strain of talking obviously quite great, but he didn't want to stop. He didn't want to go silently, withering away, a victim.

"If you want to learn...you should. My library is open to all. And given the circumstances, it could only benefit the Bastion for someone else to know. Besides, it would be an enormous kindness if you could treat this cough. It hurts more than the fever, sometimes."

Jay picked up a beaker he knew to be clean and sterilised and poured Seimei some water. He handed him the beaker, with a crooked, apologetic smile.

"Er, I don't have any antitussives ... not yet, anyway," he said. "Or any glasses fit to drink from. But, ah. Some water might at least soothe your throat, darling. And ... hmmmm. Actually, wait a second."

He'd brought his valise to the makeshift laboratory, since he'd figured he'd have to sleep in the hospital. And the laudanum was in there. He added a few drops -- enough to be a decent dose for someone who'd never taken opiates before -- to the beaker.

"It's, er. Well, it's laudanum. An opiate. But it should suppress your cough, I think."

"I do not believe I have ever had it, but if you think it will help..." he was willing to try anything, though he was a bit troubled by his lack of invulnerability to the current illness. What if that weakness carried over in other things? What if the medicine made him more ill?

What if.

There was no point questioning it or fighting it anymore. Opiates or not, it was better than coughing himself into a coma; he labored carefully with the glass, using both hands after already having dropped one container. Sipping quietly he noted the faintest hint of bitterness and nothing worse.

"Thank you," he rasped softly, closing his eyes for a moment and waiting for a low chest cough to pass.

"I apologize for a lack of formality and proper introductions. These circumstances have made everything terribly...well, less than conducive to socializing in a casual manner."

Jay shook his head.

"No, no, darling, it's quite all right," he said, quickly. "Really. You're very ill, you don't have to ... well, ah. I'm not much for ceremony, anyway." He looked at Seimei with his head cocked to one side, like a curious bird, and then added, thoughtfully, "you might want to go back to bed, dearest. Laudanum is very good at making one rather ... out of it. I can accompany you, if you're feeling weak ..."

"No no, thank you, I am quite alright," he replied with a sigh, turning away to settle back down and pull the covers up. He still felt frigid, but had all his stolen blankets taken away for good reason. The fevers still weren't breaking and everything seems so much worse.

He didn't feel particularly different and didn't expect to very quickly. By the time he realized that any degree of pain had been lessening, he was more interested in the stranger.

"Either way," he murmured, sniffing softly and closing his eyes against the burning of the fever behind them. "Abe no Seimei seems too peculiar for people unfamiliar with my culture so...you may call me Seimei...for so long as you have to call me anything." Because realistically, how much time did he have?

"Seimei," Jay repeated. "Very well, dearest. My name is Jay." He bowed, even as he was aware that here, so far from home, in a ward for plague victims that may well all be dead very soon, the gesture was comic and barely meaningful. The thought made him quite uncomfortable and he tried to banish it immediately.

"Where are you from, dearest?" he asked, to distract himself. "The name form seems ... familiar." And it did. Didn't a province of Sihai have names like that? He couldn't quite recall. History was never his strength, nor was knowledge of other cultures.

Seimei's eyes glittered at the bow with pleased recognition - Jay might have thought it pointless, but he was rewarded with obvious pleasure for the effort. Where Seimei came from, it was very important. He found it neither comical nor meaningless.

"Kyoto. Japan," he replied, the names so irrelevant anymore that the answer was flat and weary. "The name structure is Seimei of Abe, essentially. Or so it has been explained to me before. My family name was Abe. Where I am from, family names are important, a sign of recognition by the Emperor. It seems so trivial now."

Jay smiled, glad that Seimei was pleased by him observing courtesy.

"Oh," said Jay. The place names were utterly meaningless to him, but family and Emperor weren't. He wondered if Seimei is from some version of Tulun or possibly even the Khanate. Hope fluttered up.

"Darling, I hope this isn't an indelicate question, but ... what was your Emperor's name and title?" he asked, his tone rather urgent. "I think ... well, there's always a chance ... we could be from ... similar places." He was so homesick and so lonely, after all.

"Murakami," Seimei answered breathlessly, knowing full well that Jay was not any man of his realm. He was too unique, smelled too magical and strange in his own way. If there was one thing Seimei was good at, it was sensing an otherness about people.

"It isn't indelicate, but it causes you more pain than it does me," he observed, blinking slowly, dark lashes crescents against pale cheeks.

"I was from a place they called Earth, eventually. With several continents and great oceans. One of many worlds floating about in a vast and empty space. All news to me, but simple things to learn...I have been reading, for what its worth, and find my home to be singularly unique while so very similar to other places."

It takes N longer than he had intended to get back to where Jay was, having to break up a squabble between Pokemon and tend to a few chores before making sure Zoroark could handle the rest of it. He didn't bother to bring any other Pokemon with him, knowing that they would likely just be in the way given their relatively young ages. Besides, Jay seemed... awkward around Zoroark to begin with.

So he slipped in after putting another smock over his clothing and gaining gloves and whatever other protective gear might have been necessary, looking at least a tiny bit apologetic for being late.

Jay says absolutely nothing about N being late, as he's very absorbed in his work and has completely lost track of time.

"Afternoon, dearest," Jay says, absent-mindedly, then looks up at N and grins. "How are you at drudgery? Most natural philosophy is pure drudgery!"

Probably a good thing, N wouldn't really know how to deal with being chastised over something like that.

"I can't say I've ever done anything like this before, but I'm a fast learner, if nothing else."

"Well, good, dearest," Jay says and sighs. He puts down the pestle and mortar and massages his right wrist. "Do you know how to sterilise glassware? I need that done and I hate dealing with boiling water."

"I can do that."

He had helped a few of the more science-minded Team Plasma members when he was younger, before Ghetsis had decided it was a "bad idea" to let him socialize that much. He probably would have had more of an interest in it if not for that.

But the wasn't completely useless in that department, if nothing else.

Jay beams. He didn't expect N to be this useless. He'd expected to have to teach him things from scratch.

"Fantastic, darling!" he exclaims. "Fantastic! See the glassware on that table?" He points. "Sterilise it. And do tell me if you know any folk remedies for fever, because all I've got is willowbark and cold water."

"I wish I did. That was something that was only ever taught in small villages where I'm from, and Unova had very few of those left. I can at least help with what you do have, though."

A nod to that, and he moved to start sterilizing the glassware as carefully as possible.

Jay watches N work, but sees no danger signs, nor any evidence of incompetence. He relaxes and goes back to crushing willow bark. It's dull work, but at least it's got a chance of being useful.

"Honestly, I'm amazed at how bad the medicine here is," he murmurs, mostly to himself. "Eurgh."

He may be socially awkward, but he's smart enough to do things like this. A bonus in their current situation.

"Their technology was incredibly limited even when we arrived. Caels and Ura and their own brand of advancements and it likely worked well enough for their civilizations, but the destruction of everything limited what we had access to. It's been a difficult situation all around."

Jay snorts, in derision and anger.

"Fantastic," he says. "Petty conflicts fucking up the progress of the sciences, again. The more different a world is, the more things are the same! Urgh."

"It seems to be a constant, unbroken code in most sentient beings. Where there is intelligence and progress there is also stubborn pride and conflict."

Not that N liked the idea any more than Jay did. His entire world and all their wonderful species of Pokemon both discovered and mysterious still... gone in a flash, with only some other world's war to blame.

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Day 201 :: log/action spam [OPEN] ::

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we can end here? if you want

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drugs cw?

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a

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