four; video

[bloodspeaker]

[There's been a tremendous spike in patients recently, and the influx is only worsening as the days pass. The clinic doesn't have a robust staff as it is, so Adrasteius--and probably anyone else on the roster--is more than a little overworked. His expression over the feed is harried, haggard, and more than a little frustrated. Normally, diseases wither into nothing under the influence of the Light, but this illness has proved alarmingly resistant. He can treat the symptoms well enough, but the sickness itself keeps surviving. It would drive him to drink, if he even had time.]

This situation is getting out of hand. If you're still able, and you have the skill, the clinic needs you. I don't just mean healing skill, either--we need people to run supplies, prepare food, organize files, maintain records, all that sort of thing. Just tell me what you're able to do and I'll find you a place.

[Adrasteius runs a hand over his tired face, but his eyes are as bright and steady as ever. They might be bogged down, but he's damn sure not going to turn anyone away--not until taking in more people becomes unsafe.]

And if you think whatever this damn thing is has gotten hold of you, come see us. Not just because we aren't the Initiative--but because even their hospital is probably overflowing. We're busy, but we've still got clean beds and I'm still going to take care of you. I can't eliminate the disease, but I can mitigate whatever pain you're feeling, at least.

Comments

[bloodspeaker]

Especially in this case ...

[Adrasteius really wants to ask about the third eye, but now doesn't seem like an appropriate time. The thing is unnerving the fuck out of him, though.

He keeps channeling for a few moments more, and then finally he steps back.]

But--good. Try to stay in bed and rest. I'll bring you some soup this evening, all right?

[scornful]

[ Catsovi nearly snatches at him, nearly drags him back. Cat wants to. He wants to break Adrasteius, crack his bones open, make him weep, he wants to wake up from the daze of this illness with Adrasteius' blood in his mouth and Adrasteius' goddamn skin plastered all over the walls--

--but now is not the time. It is too early. And Catsovi is too weak.

He mumbles curses, grabs for a pillow instead. ]

Yes. [ Maybe he will stay in bed. For a while, at least. He doesn't hurt quite so badly anymore so maybe he can sleep, now, yes-- sleep-- that sounds lovely. Cat buries his face into the pillow. ] Don't get sick, doctor....

[bloodspeaker]

[Those intentions are all a mystery to Adra, of course. He touches the back of Cat's head gently, one more time, before leaving.]

I'll do my best.

[scornful]

[ Catsovi shudders. That touch angers him with its well-intentioned gentleness and so it lingers with him long after Adrasteius leaves, long after Cat falls asleep, colors his dreams with half-remembered memories of a better time, when happiness did not seem quite so alien a concept....

But Cat's never put any stock in his dreams and he never remembers them upon awakening, anyway. When he wakes up, he wakes up sweating and shivering and still sick, and he wakes up thinking about murder. ]