thleepy: (Q^Q)
Nikolai Nazarov ([personal profile] thleepy) wrote in [community profile] exsiliumlogs2012-03-04 09:53 pm

[closed]

Date & Time: 03/04 day, following this thread
Location: The clinic
Characters: Nikolai Nazarov ([personal profile] thleepy), Martin Septim ([personal profile] septim)
Summary: Nikolai goes to see Martin for help.
Warnings: None




Nikolai sneaks the clinic very carefully, trying to go completely unnoticed. He looks around in confusion. Now that he's here, he's not sure what to do -- who are the healers? Who is he supposed to talk to?

Maybe he shouldn't talk to anyone. Nikolai is wary of approaching other people at this point in time. He's afraid that the new programs aren't nice people and that they'll do something bad. He hasn't a clue what the other two things in his head are doing, but every time he loses control, he wakes up to black gunk on his face or bruised knuckles. Both of which are upsetting him.

And the mark on his forehead is bleeding like mad.

Nikolai sticks near the wall, wipes blood off his forehead onto his sleeve, and looks around miserably for someone who might be able to help him.

[personal profile] septim 2012-03-05 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
Martin is, for all intents and purposes, John Watson's nurse. Subservience doesn't bother him, as acting as a healer is a job that (he thinks) suits him better than an emperor. With more experience healing wounds and offering comfort than managing a realm, settling at the clinic was effortless.

Of course, that doesn't make the job is stress-free. Currently, he's nervously aware of everyone entering, leaving and inside the clinic, feet ready to carry him towards a scalpel and medical supplies as so many people are getting branded against their will. After being attacked and branded at his own flat, Martin knows well enough to remove the chips and leave them alone, not destroy them or try to trinket with them.

After washing his hands once more (so many times, he's lost count, the skin between his fingers is starting to crack) Martin hovers nearby until he spots a figure cowering near the walls, sleeves and forehead stained crimson...

And he bolts, speed that shouldn't be possible while wearing a robe. "Don't worry, I can help you!" With a careworn expression, he kneels in front of the white-haired boy, wiping his forehead with an alcohol-soaked gauze pad. "What happened? Are you hurt anywhere else?"
Edited 2012-03-05 04:17 (UTC)

[personal profile] septim 2012-03-06 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
The rune-like wound refuses to stop bleeding, which worries Martin immensely. Without thought, his hand hovers above Nikolai's forehead, glowing off-white, a simple spell of healing encouraging skin to repair itself...

...or so it would work if the spell had any effect on this boy. "Wha—!?" Martin's dumbfounded, not focusing on his patience until he peeks between his fingers, stating he's not hurt. "I'm a healer, my name is Martin Septim." It's a verbatim answer, still caught up on why his spell isn't working. "Is this wound...magically inflicted?" Enchanting weapons can leave wounds that refuse to be healed through restoration.

[personal profile] septim 2012-03-07 12:17 am (UTC)(link)
Okay, his motor skills being intact is a good sign. Martin lets Nik grab his fingers, casting a benign spell so his fingertips grow. "It's a spell."

But how can it not hurt, the wound's still open, refusing to heal or scab. "It's bleeding," Martin says, stating the obvious. "Does it usually open up like this?"

[personal profile] septim 2012-03-07 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
Yes, Martin's sure that look of wide-eyed amazement is the same he held the first time he set a hay bale on fire on purpose, not on accident as magic manifests itself for the first time.

"You don't know why it happens." It isn't a question, the words too seriously and disbelieving to be his own. Distressing enough that he doesn't know why, worse that it continues to bleed. His hand is tugged, shaking him away from his thoughts. "Sure, would an exam room be okay?" Because there's no way he's taking this kid back to his flat before figuring out just why he's bleeding uncontrollably. Healer's duty, and all.
Edited 2012-03-07 01:18 (UTC)

[personal profile] septim 2012-03-09 01:31 am (UTC)(link)
Martin walks slowly, a series of supplies needed running through his mind. The walk is a short affair, leading into a sterile, small exam room. He presses a button on the exam table, a step retracting.

"Mind getting up there for me?" He calls as he washes his hands on the sink, retrieving gloves, putting them on, then reaching for a clean towel inside a drawer. Whatever that black gunk on the child's eyes is, it should be cleaned and examined.
Edited 2012-03-09 01:31 (UTC)

[personal profile] septim 2012-03-09 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
Martin goes wide-eyed in concern. "Ah, you shouldn't stand on the table!" If the child falls, how could he forgive himself?

"I'm not going to do anything before telling you, okay?" Mutual healer (or nurse practitioner, in this case) and doctor trust is important. Martin raises his hand as if cupping air, then flexes his fingers, summoning a magelight, which hovers above his palm. "Just follow it with your eyes," he instructs, moving his hand, and the mote, along with it.
Edited 2012-03-09 02:26 (UTC)

[personal profile] septim 2012-03-10 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Martin isn't as surprised about irises-less eyes as he should be—his own world has sentient cats and lizard races, so he's used to seeing features that are not all that human.

"Yes, you might touch it," he says warmly, smiling softly. It's just a mote of light, won't burn or sting to the touch. This boy is following the light perfectly fine, so that rules out a slew of problems, but doesn't give him the answer he needs. "Tell me why you're seeking a healer." It's a firm request, but not overbearing.

A bit of godmodding, please feel free to tell me if it's not okay and I can rewrite

[personal profile] septim 2012-03-13 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"New people...inside your head," Martin repeats, committing the complaints to memory. "The person you spoke with was me." Oh, so this was the boy from the network post. A regular physical wouldn't reveal much, then. Still, procedure must be followed.

Martin delivers as series of tests, all which are passed flawlessly. So, what's he dealing with is out of his area of expertise, but acquiring more information for Dr. Watson isn't a bad idea. "Tell me," he says, removing the gloves and washing his hands once more, "Do these 'new people' manifest themselves at all?"