jigokulogs | (open) apollo's art.

Entry tags:

(open) apollo's art.

Who ⬤ The clinic crew and perhaps you!
What ⬤ A open mingle log for all needs
When ⬤ September and onwards
Where ⬤ Between Sutoku and Enma territories
Content Warnings ⬤ Possible discussion of medical procedures, others in headers if needed

JIGOKUCHO COMMUNITY CLINIC

♬♬♬

Open from eight AM to eight PM, this Lost Soul-maintained clinic has been quietly offering assistance to those in need for the past several months. To those in the know, the red cross sign in the window is a beacon for people who need a professional's eye and who for one reason or another - financial, skeptical, etc. - would prefer the intimacy of a private facility. To those not, the whispers are enough to point you in the right direction, the general agreement to not shout about it and keep it under the radar, for affordable and easily accessed healthcare is worth its own weight in gold

Patients are primarily checked in at the front, and either seen by a doctor or one of the assistants. Everything from basic checkups to immediate care is available, as well as compounded medicine for those with particular ailments. To things that just can't be handled in the private space, the staff will see to the proper referrals. Walk ins are always available - even emergencies, just call the number on the sign with the hours.

For staff and volunteers, there's always something to do. Paperwork, attending to patients, taking turns on the front desk, supply transport and acquisition - there's always an assignment for the day, and a schedule written up to be followed on the local chalkboard. Yes, the space below can be for whatever doodles you want, or just writing in when you'll next need time off. The break room contains one Nice radio, courtesy of a certain audiophile, and whether one is following the intricacies of oni baseball or new tunes, it's treated with respect. The calendar pinned to the wall contains everyone's noted down birthdays as per their hiring sheets, and there is now debate on starting a book club, given the inclination of most working there.

The second floor of the clinic is not yet finished, but Dr. Dyer has plans for it, and it's being worked on during slower shifts. Cleaning, painting, and basic repair is to be expected, as well as getting it ready to include a few more beds for when overnight patients are needed. Out the back door, however, is the most popular place to take a break amongst those working - the herbal garden filled with medicinal plants, steadily maintained along the other tasks at hand. A pair of small benches offers a place to rest one's feet, and the scene of tranquility is complete with the sound of the recently installed fountain - the water within also has healing properties, and is used in treatments. But one doesn't need to be ill to appreciate a calming scene.

The city keeps them busy enough, and the clinic so far manages to persevere, putting down small roots in Hell.

(this is a mingle log for everyone who comes through the clinic through the month of september and onwards. all top levels are welcome, from those already involved to new patients to those curious about the workings. talk to your friends, get someone to look at you bleeding your own blood, help with whatever you like - the sky is yours.

if you have any questions, pm me, otherwise enjoy!) © tessisamess

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[No worries, Levi. The doc's gonna like his habits a whole lot less than yours.]

Thanks.

[He takes the can from their hand and has a quick glance at the label. "Made from real coffee" it says, along with a jumble of other declarations. Godot pops the top, brings the can to his lips-

And knocks back the entire thing in one series of extended gulps.

Once the last of the drink is downed, he lowers the can. Clenches his fist to crush it in his hand. And says:]

Absolutely disgusting.

[they are. in awe of how he manages to pull that off without even stopping to breathe. and crushing the can immediately is a nice touch. but it's the finale, the finisher, the prestige that gets them to laugh, unguarded and open. it's the most impressive bit they've seen in some time.]

Oh my god. Well, I'm sorry that it was disappointing, but I guess technically that did count as one sip. [they're almost stunned.] How does it compare to what you were drinking earlier, anyway?

It was worth one sip. No more, no less.

[At least he does enjoy the attention on some level, even if he didn't really do that just for show (he's just nuts, see, the attention is a fun bonus.)]

Ha...! Hardly comparable at all. This swill is "made from real coffee" like squeezy-cheese is made from Bitto Storico. [His hand tightens around the can a little harder, twisting it.] Synthetic syrups and sugar and straight caffeine. Notes of paper.

[they nod. they don't know cheese or coffee, but they can infer from incomplete information until the cows come home.]

Well, that's not much of a surprise. You don't meet a lot of gamers who care about what goes into their bodies at all, much less what kind of coffee they're drinking. [leviathan leans forward a little in their seat and looks up at him, fixing him with a curious look like they're trying to suss something out.]

You seem like someone who takes a lot of pride in it, though. I'd guess you do something a lot more normal than people like me. Something where you can actually take the time to appreciate everything about something like coffee. Am I right?

[Not sure if we ought to be using the word "normal" anywhere in the vicinity of Mr. Godot here...]

There are so many who casually partake. Callously chug down a mediocre brew every morning and never give it a second thought. It takes a particular sort of soul to embrace the darkness, to dance with her, to let her linger and learn each and every one of her divine secrets.

[If he had another cup of coffee, he would punctuate that with a sip.]

And that... is why I still walk this world.

[O-kay.]

Is that what you mean?

[they... had not been anticipating this. there's a foreboding energy beneath it all, like if the lights suddenly went out and the only thing that they could see of this coffee creature were the three red lines, it would be the last thing they saw before they died. but underneath that energy they recognize he is talking about coffee, the brown bean drink what makes you game good, so it's hard to take him too seriously. they fix him with an amused smile under bemused eyes.]

Well, mostly I just meant that you look a little more put together than I do. I mean, it's not every day a "don't talk to me before I've had my coffee" mug grows legs.

Ha...!

[The laugh is very close to genuine this time. Albeit with a cynical edge... if such a thing is possible. Him? "Put together?" More like "Frankensteined."]

You're put together fine, kid. I don't see you pacing and storming through the waiting room like a caged wolverine. [He is, at least, self-aware of how obviously wound-up he looks out here.]

[they laugh a little in return. it's nice, sometimes, thinking that they have people fooled. since everyone's here in a clinic anyway and it's obvious that there's some medical problems going on with everyone, they decide that it doesn't matter much if they play their cards.]

I'm doing more than enough of it inside my own ribcage.

[they reach out one hand in front of them, palm upwards, and splay their fingers. and with little effort, a small shower of blue sparks comes from their fingertips. the electricity dissipates quickly before setting fire to anything, but they look up at his visor as they do it.]

Like I said. I'm here for heart problems.

[Okay. Yeah, he's in Hell and been recruited for a stupid demon faction war, but the sight of people casually showing off superpowers still hasn't quite sunk in as "normal" for him.

For a moment he just stares at Levi's extended hand]

That's a heart problem?

It is when it starts at my heart.

[they settle back into their seat and look up at him. they really, really wish it could be a superpower. despite the approach they take to this, where they're almost talking like it's a common, everyday thing, it is actually something that they should be more worried about.]

Every human heart generates electricity. That's how it beats. But mine generates too much, and it does it all the time. I can discharge it like this, but if I can't discharge it fast enough... [they take off their glasses, making it easier to see the shatterscar across their left eye and the faint lichtenberg figures spreading out from it.] It finds its own way out.

Like a human car battery.

[Like... probably yes, but he didn't have to go out and just say it. It is interesting though. He studies the scar, the burn, then turns away to sit back in his chair.

Crossing one leg over the other, he sets the crushed energy drink can on the table beside him.]

Maybe they're versed at that kind of thing down here.

Exactly! [it should be an insult, but they reach out their hand again towards him in agreement, like he's nailed it right on the head.] I used it to do exactly that kind of thing back home. If I have energy to spare, I might as well share it with the people who can't afford it, is the way I always tried to look at it.

[and are there ever a lot of people who can't afford it. but they would like to have one conversation that doesn't immediately derail into the horrors of cyberpunk hypercapitalism, so they pivot.]

I was able to treat it well enough at home—usually just with standard medicine, even if I had to get it from... not an actual doctor. But now that I'm here, I wanted to get everything checked out properly. In a room instead of an alleyway. [that's a bit of a joke, but not really much of one.] My name's Leviathan. Levi, if you'd like.

[Well, at least they didn't seem offended by the statement. Not that he'd really care if they were. Right down to actually using themselves as a car battery, too... whole new meaning to the phrase "jumping someone."

It's hard to tell if he's even listening with that stone cold facial expression and the eerie lack of eyes. The only indication he gives is a slight nod when Levi mentions wanting to get checked out properly.]

Godot.

[Without any elaboration whatsoever.]

[kept 'em waiting, huh. they smile pleasantly, like they were expecting him to go into a litany of his own medical issues, but they realize pretty quickly that that is not what's going to happen here.]

It's nice to meet you, Godot. If we're going to be coming to the same place, maybe I'll start bringing nicer coffee. Have you found anywhere around here yet that serves a good cup?

[they have a couple ideas of where the best of the best might be found, but they really haven't spent much time in tamamo territory.]

[He goes straight into talk of coffee, as though to underline that he'll be discussing his medical issues under duress only. Possibly even to the doctor.]

It's mostly canned stuff or tea around here so far. Some of those places serve coffee out of pure obligation. I found a little dive a day or so after I got here that at least has an espresso machine and a will.

La Sonnerie's got potential... but I will not be having with that "dalgona" atrocity.

And what's wrong with dalgona?

[see, they didn't know a lot about coffee. that much should've been blisteringly clear from the last five words they had just said, if not from what they'd brought into the clinic with them. they know not what horrid coffee opinions they're about to propose.]

I've never had it before I came here, but I liked it enough. It was a nice little refresher to keep me going when I was trying to investigate the stardust ring a couple months ago. [and though the words might come off as aggressive, the look on their face is as disarming as possible. like they know they're out of their depth.] Or is it something else that I don't understand?

It's a rip-off, is what's wrong with it. If I'm paying the equivalent of eight dollars for a cup of coffee, I want a cup of coffee, not a quarter cup of coffee and three quarters of straight foam!

[My, he's passionate about this opinion...]

Fine if someone else enjoys such pointlessly photogenic frippery, but I want the bitter black magic I paid for, as dark and hot and beautiful as a summer night on the seashore.

[this is. okay. the passion is a little scary, but mostly it's kind of funny? they lean forward, putting their hands between their knees, and don't hold off from a little giggle.]

The deeper this goes, the more I learn about how important this is to you, Godot. You've got the kind of passion that could inspire someone else to think about the kinds of things they drink that they're daring to call coffee. [levi has gotten nowhere in life by refusing to be receptive to new ideas.] Now, just in case—have you noticed much difference in taste between regular coffee and decaf?

Ha...! Then my efforts have paid off.

[He looks smugly pleased with himself, whether or not he believes Levi is being sincere or just humoring him.]

Of course decaf tastes different. It's a chemical process to remove the caffeine. To the untrained tongue, it wouldn't be noticeable, but... [To a nutbar like him, it's a compromise he simply cannot fathom.

Also why would anyone want less caffeine? Health reasons? Maybe if you're a weakling.]

So I wouldn't face too harsh a judgment from you if I decide to start my journey with decaf. That's what I'm hearing.

[they don't know how seriously they plan on taking this quite yet, but honestly, it couldn't hurt too badly. the worst that happens is that they're out the price of a cup of coffee. and years of humanitarian PSAs have taught them that that's really not that much money at all!]

All right, then. As soon as I'm finished here, I'll find an actual café and get something good. Hold me to that, if you'd like. Perhaps you'll make an expert out of this untrained tongue after all.

The only judgment you need to worry about is your own.

[He folds his arms and leans back in his chair rather decisively.]

The best cup of coffee is the one you enjoy the most. That's one of my rules.

[That's right, kids. Even if your cup of coffee is some kind of sugar-infused pink and purple glitter abomination, Godot supports your right to enjoy it.

(But he'll definitely be judging, at least to himself.)]

[they respect that. honestly, they respect it more than anything else so far, and considering godot has had a lot of things to say that resonated with them, that's saying something.]

Understood. I'll tell you what—I can text you after I have my first cup of something that you would be proud to call coffee, and you can get my honest and unfiltered opinion on it. [they smile like they know they're about to say something stupid.] After all, being part of the Alliance together means sharing information, and what information could be more important than this?

Hmmph.

[It at least comes with a sideways sort of smirk, which could mean anything from "whatever, kid" to "*tacit agreement*" or "I am amused by that sarcasm" to "you're right, this is the most important possible info."]

I want a written report. Two pages, double-spaced. [A beat.] Sixteen point font, and black ink.

[yeah, they like this guy.]

As you wish. I'll have something on your desk by the end of the week. [they say it with a similar inscrutable tone, like they're still weighing whether they're taking him seriously enough. it's at that point that someone calls out "astrape?" from a far door, and they gather themself enough to stand up.]

Hold me to it.

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(open) apollo's art.

JIGOKUCHO COMMUNITY CLINIC

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