I'll take whatever help I can get at this point. The chances we'll actually manage to prevent an outbreak are slim, but one can hope. Kirkwall is bad enough as it is.
Well, that was a nug fucked mess but it don't look like they plan on breaking my hands for busting the kid out without asking nice first. Small favors.
[ She gives Richard a measuring look. ] How willing would you be to take some of my grippe rounds in Lowtown? I'm not bringing any of them here, we'll be tit deep in phlegm before the week's out, but Sister Margaret will break my hands if I don't have someone help at the alienage.
Who is this, again, that requires so much of your attention?
[ That all the fuss is about. ] ‘Artemaeus,’ [ he clarifies, to buffer against the type of deflection he’d expect from himself.
The bag he shrugged off onto the bench is one she’s seen him with before; he’s stood still next to it and watched her finish up her phone call with bookdaddy bearing a familiar absence of expression. Default neutrality shifts only slightly towards suspicion when she looks at him. Measuring her measure. ]
[ Because that's what this is for her. ] I was asked for my assistance. I gave it in the way I've been accustomed to. Which involved moving a prisoner from the dungeon without consulting higher ups beforehand.
[ One can be aware something is a wildly terrible idea and still follow through in the name of duty. Her expression quirks into dry humor when she sees his. ]
I'll not ask you to take my midwife duties. Basic first aid and care for the sick and feeble. [ And then: ] I'll have my stipend signed over to you for the duration of it.
[ With the offer of pay on the table, his shoulders sink in acceptance of his inevitable infection before he’s even pulled in the breath to sigh out in agreement. This is what he gets for involving himself at all. ]
Fine.
[ He folds his arms. ]
I’ll need a crash course in whatever remedies you’ve been administering. I’m unfamiliar with your plane’s flora.
[ She goes to a little desk pushed up out of sight from the general chapel, pulling out several journals. ]
Lucky you, I got trained in surfacer flora by a Cleric who was obsessive about note taking. [ She flips open two and starts marking pages with folded corners. ] This one should have everything relevant to the local area and this one has all of my notes so far on the cases I've seen.
[ His interest pricks keen at the rustle of the journals she’s retrieved, curiosity peaked in spite of himself. He even leans a little to watch her dog-earing pages at a distance, stance rocked to one side until she looks up, and he draws back up to his full height. ]
That is fortunate.
[ FOR HER. He has to drop his folded arms to take the notes on offer -- easily done -- and flips the topmost volume open immediately. Casually, but immediately. ]
[ She's not gonna comment on him immediately flipping open the journal, because honestly, who wouldn't if suddenly handed thoroughly indexed and detailed field notes on foreign-to-you flora. ]
Tomorrow, if you can. I've gotta sort shit out and get a guardhouse ready for some of my regular patients. And see if I can get them to let me oversee moving Benedict. Don't reckon he'll die, but I'd prefer to be safe than sorry.
Dickerson flips through the first few pages, chin tucked and distraction absolute. But the journals aren’t going anywhere now that he has them, and the day and/or night is young -- he breaks his own fascination and turns to tuck them away into his bag, glancing aside to Sawbones as he works the flap. ]
[ There's an instinct to brush off the question, the impulse to ignore her own body in the face of all the work that needed doing still. She frowns at some indistinct point in the middle distance, then tips her head to look back up at him. ]
Ain't infected yet. Don't reckon I'll stay that way, but if I'm lucky I'll be able to travel to Kirkwall to get any of the nurses and sisters treated when they start to drop.
[ It's a given that the caretakers will get sick, especially with an outbreak this bad. At least they'll have the best chances of weathering it quickly. ]
[ When she looks back at him, it’s to find him peering at her like a tangerine in the supermarket, gauging just how far off she is from collapsing inward into a lump of mouldy rind. Hard to say if he buys her self-assessment. It’s chilly, in a way. Detached.
He certainly doesn’t argue. ]
Take care of yourself, [ he tells her, instead. ] You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.
[ His bag glunks conspicuously when he shrugs it up onto his shoulder. ]
I’m going to collect more clothes. [ He leaves a VERY small space for her to argue in, and continues: ] I didn’t anticipate I’d be leaving the Gallows.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crystal.
crystal.
Oh, he's one'na those fancy shitters who think because they got a family with a long name means they don't gotta take "Sod off" for an answer.
crystal.
crystal.
crystal.
crystal.
crystal.
crystal.
crystal.
crystal.
I'll take whatever help I can get at this point. The chances we'll actually manage to prevent an outbreak are slim, but one can hope. Kirkwall is bad enough as it is.
crystal.
[ s l u m b e r p a r t y . ]
@ the slumber party???
Well, that was a nug fucked mess but it don't look like they plan on breaking my hands for busting the kid out without asking nice first. Small favors.
[ She gives Richard a measuring look. ] How willing would you be to take some of my grippe rounds in Lowtown? I'm not bringing any of them here, we'll be tit deep in phlegm before the week's out, but Sister Margaret will break my hands if I don't have someone help at the alienage.
no subject
[ That all the fuss is about. ] ‘Artemaeus,’ [ he clarifies, to buffer against the type of deflection he’d expect from himself.
The bag he shrugged off onto the bench is one she’s seen him with before; he’s stood still next to it and watched her finish up her phone call with bookdaddy bearing a familiar absence of expression. Default neutrality shifts only slightly towards suspicion when she looks at him. Measuring her measure. ]
What do your rounds entail?
no subject
[ Because that's what this is for her. ] I was asked for my assistance. I gave it in the way I've been accustomed to. Which involved moving a prisoner from the dungeon without consulting higher ups beforehand.
[ One can be aware something is a wildly terrible idea and still follow through in the name of duty. Her expression quirks into dry humor when she sees his. ]
I'll not ask you to take my midwife duties. Basic first aid and care for the sick and feeble. [ And then: ] I'll have my stipend signed over to you for the duration of it.
no subject
Fine.
[ He folds his arms. ]
I’ll need a crash course in whatever remedies you’ve been administering. I’m unfamiliar with your plane’s flora.
no subject
Appreciate it.
[ She goes to a little desk pushed up out of sight from the general chapel, pulling out several journals. ]
Lucky you, I got trained in surfacer flora by a Cleric who was obsessive about note taking. [ She flips open two and starts marking pages with folded corners. ] This one should have everything relevant to the local area and this one has all of my notes so far on the cases I've seen.
no subject
That is fortunate.
[ FOR HER. He has to drop his folded arms to take the notes on offer -- easily done -- and flips the topmost volume open immediately. Casually, but immediately. ]
When do I start?
no subject
Ain't it, though.
[ She's not gonna comment on him immediately flipping open the journal, because honestly, who wouldn't if suddenly handed thoroughly indexed and detailed field notes on foreign-to-you flora. ]
Tomorrow, if you can. I've gotta sort shit out and get a guardhouse ready for some of my regular patients. And see if I can get them to let me oversee moving Benedict. Don't reckon he'll die, but I'd prefer to be safe than sorry.
no subject
Dickerson flips through the first few pages, chin tucked and distraction absolute. But the journals aren’t going anywhere now that he has them, and the day and/or night is young -- he breaks his own fascination and turns to tuck them away into his bag, glancing aside to Sawbones as he works the flap. ]
How are you feeling?
no subject
Ain't infected yet. Don't reckon I'll stay that way, but if I'm lucky I'll be able to travel to Kirkwall to get any of the nurses and sisters treated when they start to drop.
[ It's a given that the caretakers will get sick, especially with an outbreak this bad. At least they'll have the best chances of weathering it quickly. ]
no subject
He certainly doesn’t argue. ]
Take care of yourself, [ he tells her, instead. ] You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.
[ His bag glunks conspicuously when he shrugs it up onto his shoulder. ]
I’m going to collect more clothes. [ He leaves a VERY small space for her to argue in, and continues: ] I didn’t anticipate I’d be leaving the Gallows.
no subject
It'd be a bit anticlimactic to die of a fever. [ Not that people didn't die from it all the time, not that people weren't dying from it right now. ]
You take care out there too. And thanks.