[OPEN]

[bloodspeaker]

Date & Time: June 9th - June 15th (with the clinic becoming increasingly crowded and chaotic as days pass)
Location: Transport clinic
Characters: Clinic staff, possible clinic staff, sick people, ANYONE AT ALL
Summary: Clinic happenings during Stage II of the epidemic
Warnings: maybe someone's gonna vomit idk


Adrasteius moves through the halls with purpose, seeing to as many people and as many of their needs as he can. He administers medicine, soothes the fever-related aches and pains with the Light, checks supplies, and even tries to handle some of that growing paperwork mountain, albeit to very little avail. He knows from the network--and direct observation--that the Initiative's medical facilities are filling up quickly, which means that even Exsilium natives are starting to pour in.

The scene in the waiting room is particularly chaotic at any given time of day; nearly every chair is filled by someone requiring attention. Meanwhile, supplies of all kinds are running low, they're understaffed, and the disease everyone seems to be suffering from won't respond to anything, magical or otherwise.

But everyone's doing their best--right?

[OOC: FEEL FREE TO MAKE YOUR OWN THREADS EVERYONE; if it's open, Adra may or may not pop up.]

Comments

[scornful]

[ Given the embarrassing alternative, Cat picks up the spoon and tugs the tray closer to pick up the bowl of soup. ] I think I can manage.

[ He starts to eat, carefully, hoping like hell that he doesn't cough or sneeze too violently at any near point in the future. ]

Would you have fed me if I'd said 'no'?

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra observes this, his fingers tapping against his hipbone.]

I have assisted patients with their meals before, when necessary.

[i.e. 'yes'.]

[scornful]

Mmm. [ Cat takes a while to finish the soup, frowning slightly. The sickness has thrown his sense of taste off entirely. He doesn't enjoy this warping. Cat likes food, and Adrasteius makes good meals, and it's such a shame that this one's essentially gone to waste -- it doesn't matter if Catsovi can't properly enjoy the flavor!

But he finishes it anyway. He reaches out to put the empty bowl and spoon back, letting his fingers brush the glass of orange juice thoughtfully. In the end, his hand comes back empty, the glass staying on the tray.

He tilts his head to one side and grins. ]

All right. But. Grapes. Have you ever hand-fed grapes to anyone?

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra's expression sours.]

No. No, I have definitely not ever fucking done that.

You should drink the juice.

[scornful]

[ :9

Cat sighs and reaches out, this time to push at the glass with a finger. He gives it a petulant frown. ]

You may have to force me. I don't feel like it.

[ He turns to extend his hand towards Adrasteius instead, searching for an arm. At the same time, he muffles a cough against the back of his other arm. ]

Adrasteius... Adra. May I call you that?

[bloodspeaker]

[Adrasteius moves forward, closing the distance between them and putting himself within easy reach. He picks up the orange juice and sighs.]

You can call me whatever you want to, Catsovi. Especially if you have a few sips of this juice. It's good for you.

[scornful]

Hmm. [ Cat licks his lips, and frowns again. Dry. Cracked. The color of them probably looks horrible against his skin right now, as he's certain that he's gone awfully pale. (He has.) Ah, well. ] Adra. [ Purred. ] Can I really call you anything I like, now? Adrasteius. Adra. Sin'dorei. Clinician. Doctor. Hm... no, we're getting more and more formal, it seems.

[ He sits up a little straighter to move his hand, placing it on Adrasteius' chest. ]

How about... darling?

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra glances at Cat's fingers splayed out on his chest, frowning. He holds out the juice.]

Stop being ridiculous. Drink this. At least a little.

[scornful]

[ Catsovi starts to walk his fingers up Adrasteius' chest, over his collarbone, to his neck. He laughs. ]

I'd like to drink you.

[ Cat's a thirsty man, but he's usually a little less crude with his coming-ons. His words right now are delirious. He doesn't... feel... well.... His head is pounding. He wonders about the temperature of Adrasteius' blood. He wonders if he can pin Adrasteius down long enough to stab a thermometer into his jugular. ]

[bloodspeaker]

[The tips of Adra's long ears redden. Just what the fuck is going on right now? He narrows his eyes; furrows his brow.]

You're goddamn delirious.

[He presses the back of his hand to Cat's burning forehead, and a moment later, another dose of soothing, cooling Light is flowing into Cat's body.]

Simmer down.

[scornful]

[ Catsovi closes his eyes and groans in response, moving his hand back to rest on Adrasteius' forearm. He drinks in the Light, genuinely grateful for this reprieve from his pains.

Of course, it doesn't relieve him of all of his sicknesses. Or even most of them. Cat cracks his eyes open again to smile at Adra. ]

You have a lovely voice. Even when you're using it to scold people.

[ Hell, he already got started, he might as well keep going. ]

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra's mouth is thin, fixed line. He continues to channel the Light as he stares straight ahead, not even at Catsovi, but at some fixed point on the wall behind him. He's shutting down at these remarks, sure that they're coming from some fever-heated place in Catsovi's brain. Adra discards them before their meaning even fully registers.

He says nothing.]

[scornful]

[ That's not a promising reaction. But the magic is mellowing him out; it occurs to him that he is very tired, and he would like to sleep again.

But Cat tries to rally himself. No sleeping. Not just yet.

He touches the inside of Adra's wrist with two fingers, murmurs. ]

You're going to tire yourself out. If you haven't already.

[bloodspeaker]

[He keeps on for a few moments after Catsovi speaks, until he's sure that he can't do anything more for now. Then his shoulders sag with exhaustion; his ears wilt.]

Oh, trust me, I have. Hopefully you'll be able to rest now, though.

[scornful]

Yes. Thank you.

[ Catsovi -- feeling slightly better himself, of course -- snakes both hands around Adra's wrists. His grip is loose, but insistent. Come. Come here. ]

You feel like you're burning up yourself. Stay with me.

[bloodspeaker]

Ah--

[Adrasteius shakes his head, yawning.]

I should tend to other patients.

[scornful]

Listen to yourself. You're yawning.

[ Catsovi gives another tug, slightly more insistent this time. The delirium seems to have left him completely; when he speaks, his voice is calm, level, reasonable. His expression is solemn. ]

Your other patients will survive the course of a half-hour nap. [ Not that Cat cares about that. JUST STAY WITH HIM. ]

[bloodspeaker]

[Well, a half-hour doesn't seem that long. Adrasteius sits down on the edge of the bed, sighing.]

I suppose I can rest for a moment.

[scornful]

[ VICTORY.

Catsovi lets go of Adrasteius' wrists and moves over. The bed's small, but they're both slim -- two of them on the mattress shouldn't be a problem. ]

Come on. Lay down.

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra yawns again and obliges, lying down straight and still, trying to make his small body take up as little space as possible.]

Just for a few minutes.

[scornful]

Thirty. [ Cat says this firmly. In reality, he's willing to let Adrasteius sleep for as long as he likes. He pulls the sheets up to cover the both of them -- his legs, most of Adrasteius' body.

Slowly, as if unthinkingly, Cat's hand drifts over Adrasteius' face, fingers brushing through his bangs, tucking them behind a long ear. He smiles to himself and shifts to lie down as well. He keeps a good few inches between the two of them, but he does rest his hand upon Adra's shoulder. The only point of contact. ]

You work so hard, Adrasteius. [ Almost cooed. ] Go to sleep.

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra makes a grumbling, irritated sound about the compliment, but he really is tired. Once the blanket's over him, he dozes off in minutes--and stays like that for the next forty-five, at least.]

[scornful]

[ Good. Catsovi certainly doesn't try to wake Adrasteius up on time. He closes his eyes and he slows his breathing to feign sleep, as his hand gently drifts over Adra's collarbone, coming to rest with the tips of his fingers pressed lightly against Adrasteius' neck.

He's still looking, of course. The third eye never closes. He drinks in the yellow of Adra's hair and he resists the urge to entwine his fingers into it, but lord, it's hard. So pretty. The entirety of Adrasteius seems so small and so fragile, and he would be so easy to crush, right now--

The corner of Cat's mouth twitches. No. Not yet. Not yet. ]