[Ionu's Mercy] Job Hunt

[Fatima]

Early Afternoon, 34 Spring, 512 AV Fatima had been having quite a time. For several days now she had been trying to track down Ionu's Mercy, to get herself some gainful employment. So far, she had been only doing minor healing work for the mildly injured or sick, and still only on an irregular basis. Working for the government of Alvadas would give her a much wider base of people to help, as well as much more serious experience. While Fatima was competently versed in the factual knowledge of medicine, she would admit that she needed more hands-on experience. Not to mention her finances were dwindling quickly; she was down to less than twenty golden mizas at this point. So, she had developed a strategy; she would have to locate severely injured people and use them to locate the building! Of course she would do what she could to help, as well. The building only seemed to appear to those who really needed medical assistance, or so she'd heard. But today, it seemed like everyone was in petching good health! No mangled limbs, no severed appendages; in actuality, she was glad. She didn't really want to see some poor sod get run over by a cart just so she could get a job. It was when this thought crossed her mind that she happened to look upon a severely dilapidated shack; when did that get there? Normally she would have kept on walking, but she felt compelled to investigate it; noticing the small sigil above the door, she smiled triumphantly, and entered. The building was much, much bigger on the inside than it had been on the outside; there were people everywhere, going this way and that, carrying trays and bottles, hustling and bustling. Fatima snagged someone who didn't seem to be going as fast as the others; a man who seemed to be a few years older than her, who had a something of a prim and proper air about him. He was immaculately groomed, except for a cowlick that appeared nigh untameable. He seemed slightly shocked to have her hand upon his sleeve, restraining him. "Hey there friend, care to help a lady out? I have the skills required to be employed by this place and I need a little guidance, hm?"

[Mirage]

Who was this girl that held onto his sleeve? The man looked down, taking in this picture of shock and surprise. Before him, holding fast to his own sleeve, was a woman unlike any he had seen before. Surely this girl is of a foreign land. I have never seen such skin tone before but on a Myrian who visits here often enough. Turning so that he was standing face to face with Fatima, the man disengaged his sleeve from her grip, pursing his lips and looking down his nose at her, "What say you? You have the 'skills' for employment here?" The man grinned, a snide gesture that spoke of his doubts and higher thoughts as he looked Fatima up and down, "By the looks of you, your skill would be better suited for a busker, or perhaps at the gentleman's club." With a laugh he turned, waving a hand over his shoulder and not bothering to look back as he spoke, "Go on, be gone from this place. You are interrupting my work." The man's grand white robes billowed out behind him as he turned, a colorful arm band positioned on his upper arm spoke of his rank, one of the higher ups in the department. So, without even a single glance back he began to move away, his eyes once more roaming over the space before him.

[Fatima]

What...what the petch did he just say? Busking? A gentleman's club?! How rude! Who the petch did this guy think he was? It was taking everything she had for Fatima to resist tearing him a new one; verbally, of course. If there was ever a time Fatima regretted her oath to Rak'keli, this was it, because she wanted nothing more than to clock this asshole right in his fat mouth. She could feel her face and ears reddening, her stomach twisting, her lips aching to spit curses. But she was absolutely determined to work here, and she couldn't let her anger ruin her chances... She took a deep breath in an attempt to center herself and calm her temper. She increased her pace to catch up, walking beside the man, who appeared to be more than an entry level worker. She slowly clenched and unclenched her fists in an attempt to release some tension. “Mister, I don't think you heard me right. And I'm sure you didn't mean to come off as such a shitface. So, I'll repeat myself. I want to work here and I am qualified to do so. So, if you aren't interested in helping me, why don't you point me to someone who is?” Okay, so she wasn't completely able to keep her ire out of her voice. But she thought she had done pretty well containing herself, considering.

[Mirage]

The man rolled his eyes, looking down at this rude child, this girl who did not even know her place. His eyes fell over her figure, taking in her toned calves and... Rolling his eyes the man sped up his pace, "Only harlots and children talk like you. Mind your manners, you are in a house of healing." The man stopped by a group of other white robes, talking with them a moment and then sending them scurrying off to complete various tasks. His eyes looked back over his shoulder, and when he saw two eyes staring up at him he sighed, "What the devil are you still doing here? How many times must I say it? Your skills are not needed here." Turning to walk briskly away the man would continue to speak over his shoulder, not bothering to see if she followed, "We here, at Ionu's Mercy, are experts. We have trained, grown wise under the Head's supervision. We are the elite, the only force standing between Alvadas and its own insanity. We cure the mind, as well as the body, and you girl," He stopped and turned abruptly, looking down on Fatima with mocking eyes, "Do not have what it takes." When he turned, it was obvious that he thought that would be the end of it. His words were spoken, his mind made up about this one, this girl who would enter his domain and demand such things of him. After all, was he not the Wardman? Did he not hold claim over every second rank and below? Indeed, this girl did not know to whom she spoke. There was nothing for it... He would not help her with her task, and he would not see her helped by any other. Not unless she could prove her worth. To the right of where she stood there was a man sitting against the wall, his arm held awkwardly to his chest and a grimace of pain on his face. To her left in the corner was a small boy who had a cut above his right eye and several scrapes and bruises, which his mother dotingly kissed as she whispered comforting words in his ear. In the very back of the ward there was a man laying upon a pallet, a wound in his side bleeding profusely as he drew sporadic breaths between gasps of pain. Near the entrance there was a woman who spoke in a loud voice, cursing at the top of her lungs and struggling against the white robes that held her arms fast. In her eyes there was a crazed madness, a ferocity that spoke of desperation, confusion and despair. Fatima would only have time to see to 1 patient before this man was upon her once more... which would she choose? Unknowingly, this girl was now being watched by a pair of very intent eyes. Theses eyes were searching for something... but what could it be? OOCChoose whichever patient you wish, but do not be fooled by first appearances. Remember, Question your Reality.

[Fatima]

Fatima visibly bristled as he listened to the man's harsh words; like a cat arching its back and raising its hackles. She longed to run after him, to continue arguing and give him a real piece of her mind, but knew that it would only make her problem worse. For a few moments she stood silently in the middle of all the activity, stewing in her frustration and trying to calm herself. It was then that she truly took in her surroundings, noticing how many people had not yet been helped. He said that they had no need of her, but there were patients clearly in need of attention. Her eye was immediately drawn to a commotion near the entrance, where a what seemed to be a grieving woman was struggling with the orderlies. Fatima's heart went out to her, wondering what she must have suffered to make her react in such a way. It was too bad that Fatima was not especially skilled in matters of the mind, or she would have gone to help sooth her. She turned her attention to two others; a small child, cut and bruised, who was sniffling and being comforted by his mother, and a badly wounded man lying on a cot, gasping for breath. Fatima longed to go to the child, for she loved children, but he did not seem seriously injured. It would be lax of her to ignore the wounded man in favor of a scuffed child. She quickly jogged to the man's side, reaching out to feel his brow with one hand and to put pressure on the wound with the other. What has happened to you?" She asked, as she did her best to take note of his temperature.