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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That's quite a way to open a conversation.

[she says it mildly, though it's concerning by nature. looking him over, there's the distinct sense that she's analyzing him, looking for what might be overtly or secretly wrong, and then making a single note on her file.]

Do you mind elaborating some on that? It'd help me help you, and whatever you say doesn't leave this room.

Of course. [Still visibly tense, but he adds a muttered:] Thanks.

[Here he is again. The one little white room in all of Jigoku-cho, all the world where Godot can't cover his condition up with flowery language or dramatic metaphors. It won't do him any good, and no doubt the clinic staff have better things to do than try to pry it out of him.

Just like going to the clinic at all, may as well get it over with.]

I was poisoned. Near fatally, about as close as you can get without needing a funeral planner. To say it left me a little worse for wear would be an understatement.

Hence the device?

[she indicates near her own eyes - it had struck her on first look, but she hadn't said anything about it, waiting for him to talk about it first. a recovery from the brink would leave its marks on anyone - even if he's alive now. if he's seeing her, then he's worried that he's not fully recovered.]

Yeah.

[He absently mirrors the motion, touching the edge of the visor with two fingers.]

My eyes were only the most obvious casualty. My brain, my nerves, my muscles, nearly every organ-- all damaged. Some have stabilized, some even recovered, but none of it will ever be the same. This old body of mine will need regular servicing as long as it decides to hold out.

[A sigh, and a sideways glance.]

I thought being a "Lost Soul" in limbo would mean I didn't have to worry about it. But it turns out, this really is Hell.

[nodding, she takes it into account, and then lays her clipboard aside. there's something she's been practicing in secret, something that might be of worth to an actual patient, and particularly the ones who don't like conventional hospitals. because otherwise it's a battery of tests and scans, and discomfort growing and hesitation that leads to a difficulty of care.

it just might be perfect for him.]

All of that said, it makes me wonder exactly what we're dealing with and what you need. There is a way I can check, noninvasively, that would give me greater insight, but I would need your permission for it.

[and then, almost as an afterthought:]

And for you to trust me.

Your guess is honestly as good as mine.

[Of course he has no idea what she could be referring to, given the wide array of magical mystical bullshit that's suddenly possible in a place like this. All he needs to hear is that it's noninvasive and he's instantly on board.

If it means no tests, no scans, no hospital, he'd say yes to just about anything.]

Go ahead. What do you need from me?

Just lie down and try to relax. I'll be putting my hands on you, but you won't need to do anything - close your eyes or don't, all up to you.

[and, mentally, she makes a note to take a five minute break after this and eat something for energy.]

All right.

[There's a beleaguered sigh as he twists on the exam table, pulling up his legs to lie flat. It seems he really will need to try to relax; he's been noticeably nervous the whole time, and it only gets worse when he's officially "on the table," as it were.

Muscle memory, maybe.]

Okay. [A few deep breaths are about as relaxed as he's gonna get. And he adds, deadpan,] My eyes are closed, by the way. [Just in case she was wondering.]

[stepping over to him, she puts her hands on his chest, and takes a breath of her own. it's the familiar feeling behind her ribs, their talons, their feathers, except this time, it feels like their hands over her own, the spirit inside of her helping keep things controlled. Hibiki...help me.

her hands glow with a soft light, and Godot will feel a gentle kind of warmth spread from where she touches, as comfortable as a favorite coat, skimming the surface. reaching out, not to try and undo what is long healed over, what he has had to endure, but observing it and taking note of things, as surely as the doctor would do to things external. finding the edges, and gaining a greater understanding of what is there.

if his eyes open, he'll see that hers have gained a green light, half focused as Emily instead focuses on not reaching too deep, not pushing too far. keeping him comfortable, even as she's digging up what his body hides.]

[He's not sure what to expect. So it's nice when it's... nice. No instruments, no wires or tubes or needles, no strange hands making him feel more like a piece of meat than a person. And it doesn't hurt. For once, something, somewhere in him doesn't hurt.

With or without his eyes open, he receives different visual signals from the visor and he can make out the glow in Emily's hands and eyes. Just barely. He's never really given much thought to magic, but this place is going to make a believer out of him yet.

There's plenty of gruesome details to be found. Organs, struggling to keep working at reduced capacity. Muscles and heart, once weakened but stubbornly trying to build back, along with the liver. Nerve damage here and there, places where things just don't fire right anymore. Medication has helped various ailments, but it's starting to show that he's been lacking it for the length of his stay thus far.]

[her own heart aches to see the damage done, in the way it always does when she sees someone hurting. it's supposed to just be a scan, she knows, but if she lets just a drop of the energy linger, trying to ease his discomfort, no one will tell her she can't. and knowing this, she's already got some ideas on medication. damn it, if only Dr. Heng was still around.

with care, she pulls back - the warmth will fade slowly from him, naturally. Emily takes her hands away and the glow in her hands dies down, her eyes clear. she'll give him a minute to sit up on his own, while she gets her clipboard and starts writing as fast as she can so she doesn't forget what she observed. shorthand to herself that she'll document later, but she needs to record this now, before she loses details.]

[The sensation fades and Emily steps away. He takes a moment to ensure she's really done, then only when she turns away does he set a hand aside to help himself get up. Only briefly, though, before with great determination, he hoists himself upright without a shudder, a flinch, a grunt, or any other sign of the myriad of things wrong with him.

Then he sits there, awkwardly silent as Emily writes things down, not wanting to interrupt her.]

Pretty neat trick. [He comments only when it looks like she's done writing.]

[putting it all out, she can finally set the paper down, knowing that she'll be revising it later. but at least there's a record now to refer to when she thinks about what to do for him for the future. turning to him, she manages a smile, trying to be reassuring.]

A friend has been teaching me how to do that. I want to give people an option that's not solely reliant on having a nearby machine to evaluate their condition, to cater to what might be more comfortable.

[from her tone, it's clear Emily believes that - no tricks involved.]

[The consideration is honestly, deeply appreciated. Not that he can bring himself to say so. Because saying so will mean he needed it, which would mean he's nervous about medical procedures, which would mean he's vulnerable, and we can't be having with that.

So instead Emily gets a little exhale of breath and a nod. And he does manage a muttered:] Thanks.

[MOVING ON-]

I'm a realist. I know there's a limit to what can be done. That's all I want to do.

There is, but it isn't hopeless. Some parts of you are fighting to come back and restore themselves.

[she'd felt it, right there. things that can be strengthened - they will never be as they were, but they can get him to comfort, and that matters.]

To keep you stable, we'll have to look into replacing the medications you were taking or finding comparable substitutes. Beyond that, it depends on what you personally would be comfortable with. I will not lie to you and say I have a fix for your ills, nor a roadmap I can show you to explain my thoughts, but with your permission, I'd like to put together a few things and talk about how we can help you.

[the message is clear - she can strictly focus on maintenance if he'd be happier with that. it's a choice, and one she feels strongly about. sometimes saving someone is giving them the option to take the path you wouldn't personally do.]

Ha...! I'm frankly shocked all that pharmaceutical garbage exists down here. [But hey, everything else seems to. Including demons! It's not really that surprising, is it?

What is surprising, a little, is her offer to put together a few plans. He'd reached, essentially, the end of the road as far as modern medicine was concerned. The doctors already talked about how amazing he was, how his sheer determination let him walk again, how technology allowed him to see. He'd long been in the mindset now that whatever was left was the hand he'd been dealt, and he'd just have to play it even if it was broken, or defective, or hurt all the time or made him miserable and weak.

What more could Dr. Dyer possibly pull off? Was there really something else?]

I'd like to know all my options. Hard to say yes or no to something I don't know is possible.

[Though, he tempers himself internally, he's still not getting his hopes up.]

Then I'll construct a draft of a treatment plan for you to review and make a decision on. We can set aside time for any questions you may have, and any ongoing concerns.

[there would be risks, experiments she'd have to conduct on her own time. yet she doesn't want to accept his situation as hopeless, not when she has not just her own knowledge to draw on but Hibiki's, and their years of experience.]

In the meantime, before you leave, I'd like to give you a medicine to take with you. It can't replace what you were on - I know your dosages were precise - but it'll work to preserve you as you are. Should anything worsen considerably, you can contact the clinic or the nearest hospital.

Just one?

[Wow, what a miracle. He holds back the sarcastic urge to ask if it's formaldehyde.

He also holds back the urge to throw on a "god forbid" at the idea of going to the hospital. This is literally hell, and there are youkai and monsters and other factions all looking to prey on Lost Souls. The last thing he needs is for anybody to know he's this vulnerable, this weak and pathetic.]

Thanks. Sorry in advance for the trouble. [Whither from his wreck of a body or his own bitter attitude about it.] It's all a pain to deal with. But I figured it'd be pretty anticlimactic if I gave out now, after everything else.

Mr. Godot.

[she lowers her clipboard, eyes looking to meet his, where they'd be in the visor.]

You aren't any trouble at all. Rather, I thank you for being willing to give me your faith.

[the chiding is gentle, but sincere. her patients are not problems. they had them, and coming here, hopefully they could fix or alleviate them.]

[That's a nice thing for her to say, and not all of his doctors over the past year would have expressed such a sentiment. That wins her even more of his favor, even if he can't really take the notion to heart.]

It's not given easily.

[He smiles a little.] I've not been known as a particularly pleasant patient. It's nothing personal, and you've been great so far. But I'll try to be on my best behavior all the same.

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(open) apollo's art.

JIGOKUCHO COMMUNITY CLINIC

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