[Gilia Medical Center] Wounds That Run Deep (Claire)

Orin has to get treated by Claire after a training mishap.

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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

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[Gilia Medical Center] Wounds That Run Deep (Claire)

Postby Orin Fenix on July 15th, 2017, 12:23 am

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35th of Summer, 517AV


As the sword whistled through the air towards Orin’s face, the chef desperately tried to bring the two daggers clutched in his fists up in an interlocking pattern to catch the descending blade. But it wasn't working. Orin, for whatever reason, seemed entirely incapable of raising his arms at the same time. One would start and the other would stop. The result was that his right hand alone was high enough to impact against the sword. The left one followed just a few ticks too lack.

Davrah, Orin’s trainer, disengaged the sword with a disgusted grunt. The Akalak stood head and shoulders above the human, and when Davrah glared at Orin like the trainer was doing now, Orin couldn't help but feel an involuntary shiver of fear. Akalaks were intimidating even when they weren't trying to be, so when they actively asserted their physical superiority, they could become downright terrifying. Even Orin, slightly acclimatized to the sight of the giant, dark-skinned race, was affected. Davrah brought his sword into a ready position and Orin instinctively sank into his own. “Again. Slower,” Davrah commanded, before launching into another overhead arc with the sword.

This time, Orin focused on bringing both blades up in tandem, and he was successful. Davrah, though, wasn't satisfied. “Again. Faster.” And again, Orin managed to catch Davrah’s wooden blade between his own. “Again. Full speed.” Desperately, Orin willed his arms into motion. They flew into the space above his head, and this time Orin actually managed to stop Davrah’s attack, although his form felt incredibly sloppy. Davrah grunted, and nodded. “Good enough.” Even that small compliment was enough to fill Orin with pride. The Akalak was sparing in his praise and harsh in his criticisms. But Orin knew that it came from a place in Davrah’s heart.

Davrah pointed to the weapons racks and both of them put their respectively blades away. Then Davrah picked up two iron staves, handing one to Orin. The chef hated the staff with a burning passion, especially these heavier versions, but seeing as he'd been asked to be taught the weapon, he couldn't complain. He'd decided that his skill with daggers wasn't enough and he should have the ability to wield a weapon that he could use to keep an opponent at a distance. It just grated on Orin’s nerves that after all the hard work he'd put into honing his combat abilities, he was forced back to basics simply because the staff was new to him.

Davrah squared off again Orin and Orin braced himself for what was sure to be the most difficult part of his training today. Seeing as Orin could barely lift the heavy version of the staff, training with it was nearly impossible. Still, the chef gamely kept at it, knowing one day it would be worth it. Davrah gave Orin instructions in a deep baritone. “Standard block pattern. Overhead, left, right, bottom, repeat.” Orin nodded, already dreading this whole endeavor. Davrah, of course, had no trouble hefting his weapon, but as soon as Orin lifted it off the ground, he could feel the pain in his arms.

Davrah swung his own staff and Orin, with a grunt of effort, pushed his whole body into motion to raise his own weapon above his head. The two colluded in the dull thunk of iron hitting iron. Orin, barely able to keep from dropping the staff, managed to bring it down to its normal level, but he was so focused on controlling it and trying to ignore the pain in his arms that he realized too late that he’d blocked right instead of left.

THWACK! Orin’s entire vision exploded with white as pain exploded in his chest. He almost dropped his staff, but remembering lessons of the past, which drilled into him the importance of never losing control of a weapon, caused him to simply lower it until it touched the floor. When he could see again, and his other sense came back as well, Orin found that he was leaning heavily on the staff, and Davrah was hovering over Orin, the Akalak looking alternatively horrified and pissed. Orin’s ribs were on fire, and Davrah took the staff and led Orin over to a bench, sitting Orin down before placing the weapon away.

Coming back, the Akalak knelt and felt at Orin’s ribs, and the chef bit his lip to keep from crying out. Satisfied, Davrah leaned back. “I don’t think they’re broken, just severely bruised. I pulled the blow at the last second when I saw what you did. Or didn’t do, rather. Stupid! Stupid, stupid human, blocking the wrong way. Still, I suppose you’ve learned your lesson now.” Peering at Orin uncertainly, Davrah asked, “Do you need help getting to the medical center? You need a doctor. I can take you.”

Orin waved away the assistance, standing up with a wince. “I got it. I can make it there on my own.” Orin had never been to the Gilia Medical Center, but he passed it often and knew it was only a short walk from his current location. So he started limping, since every step caused a jolt of pain to shoot up the left side of his body, and while it took him a while, eventually he arrived at the hospital. Entering, Orin hobbled to the front desk.

An attendant shoved a book at him as he approached the front desk. “Write your name, and deposit any weapons. Don’t worry, you’ll get them back.” Orin must’ve looked suspicious, to warrant that remark, but the chef imagined that if they tried to permanently take weapons from Akalaks, there would be a riot. So he did as instructed, and another attendant came to lead him through a series of hallways, stopping at a door that was identical in every way to the ones around it.

Opening the door, the attendant gestured for Orin to take a seat on the cot that was in the corner. “The doctor will be with you shortly,” the attendant informed him, before closing the door and leaving Orin alone The chef sank down gratefully, and closed his eyes, awaiting further developments and trying not to pass out from the pain.
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[Gilia Medical Center] Wounds That Run Deep (Claire)

Postby Claire Lexi'lya on July 22nd, 2017, 6:11 pm

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35th of Summer, 517 A.V.


Claire’s day hadn’t been the best.

It had started out fairly easy, with the Kelvic tending to several humans that had quite the sunburn across various sections of skin. The summer had been particularly harsh thus far and Syna’s rays seemed to be far more unforgiving these days. Several of the burns were treatable with her gnosis, but for the most part, the Kelvic had spent several bells dealing with the rather foul and disgusting smelling burn salve the medical center used to help relieve the pain and speed the healing process.

It had taken several chimes to get the smell off her hands before she had been ushered into another room where she found herself in the middle of two quarreling Akalak. While neither of them was armed, they refused to leave the side of the woman lying on the cot—obviously very pregnant with a Nakivak bracelet laced around her wrist. From what Claire could gather was she was bound to one in contract but was in love with the other. There was no telling whose child it was, and the raptor was never so glad that she didn’t have to deal with the fallout of what she had done. There was the memory of Christina’s Remorse lingering in the back of her mind, but she doubted they would kill the woman. It wasn’t the same situation as killing the child off.

The Kelvic had to call in extra hands just to pry the men away from the poor woman so that she could exam the worn out woman. Luckily it had been a fair bit of heartburn that had been causing the issue of pain in her chest and Claire gave the woman some advice on how to help avoid the issue in the future before sending her up to the second floor. She was confident in her assessment, but she wanted to ensure she had a more thorough check up with someone more advanced in their training with pregnancy—not to mention giving the woman a little more time from the two Akalak determined to dog her every step.

The raptor had just sunk into an empty chair near the front desk to relieve the ache building in the balls of her feet before she felt a rough poke to her right shoulder. Claire groaned and closed her eyes, shaking her head in denial as a male chuckle filled the air. “I take it you don’t want to be bothered?” The raptor peeked upwards at the big blue man standing over her with a knowing smile. It did little to ease the irritation at being disturbed and the only reply she could give was sticking out her tongue like a child. It only made the Akalak laugh harder in reply.

“Well, I was going to give you the guy that just came in down the hall. But I hear those two Akalak were looking for you as well for an update on the mother…” Claire could feel herself physically pale at the mention of the two bumbling idiots. Instantly the girl was on her feet, stumbling slightly as her feet tried to right her sense of balance. The Akalak man reached out and caught her elbow, already used to Claire’s horrible sense of balance without her tail feathers. Once he was sure she wasn’t bound to go falling to the floor he released her and cocked his head over his shoulder. “Third door on the right down the second hall. I’ll deal with them.”

The Kelvic shot him a thankful smile as she rushed down the hall before someone could catch her. By now the halls were familiar to her as her own home and it took her no time to find the room in question. Pulling in a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment before pushing the door open. Inside there was a man sitting on a cot, eyes closed. It took the girl a moment to realize this wasn’t just any man, but one she had met before. She stalled in closing the door behind her as she blinked several times before his name came to the forefront of her mind.

“Orin?”

She was pretty sure that was his name. Claire was terrible at keeping people’s names straight. She did, however, remember he had been the man in the rain, flailing around with a dagger at an apparition that only he could see. After a tick she shook her head and finished shutting the door behind her, giving him a small smile as she approached the cot, stopping just a few feet before him. “What brings you here?” The Kelvic let her head cock to the side as she watched him, daring to bring up the question lingering in the back of her mind. “Are you still seeing your father?” The words were gentle and quiet as if she was hiding a secret despite the fact they were the only two in the room.

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[Gilia Medical Center] Wounds That Run Deep (Claire)

Postby Orin Fenix on July 23rd, 2017, 12:12 pm

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Orin started as Claire walked into the room. The universe clearly had a sense of humor. Orin momentarily forgot the pain in his ribs as he flashed back to that day not so long ago when the image of his father had tortured him. The apparition, or hallucination, or whatever it was, had taken the form of Alexander Fenix as its own and proceeded to drag Orin’s emotions all over the place. Since then, though, when his nerve endings had felt like they were on fire, Orin had felt everything was muted, as if he perceived the word through a filter that emotions had trouble getting through. Even his depression had lessened, although his apathy about doing anything other than work, training and research hadn’t seemed diminished. Orin didn’t like to do anything that might cause people to try and get to know him better. He didn’t go to taverns, didn’t seek out company from anyone, and didn’t try to make friends. It might have been a lonely existence, but at least he was protected from being abandoned once again and leaving his weakened soul even more damaged.

Of course, fate clearly had a sense of humor throwing Orin and Claire together once again. “Claire,” he responded in a monotone, although inside his feelings were all off kilter, as they had been when he’d last seen her. Orin felt rage, fear, shame, and grief pass through him in a wave, each one more more potent than the last, all of them following on the heels of the last and lingering deep within his heart. What are the chances of this? Out of all the doctors who no doubt worked in medical center, fate had assigned Claire. Luck had never really been on Orin’s side, at least in the long run, as his life had been a string of disasters that never seemed to end. It had made him tough and closed off, but at least Orin knew that he was a survivor. Unfortunately, Claire had already seen the pain that he carried so she wasn’t going to be put off by Orin’s usual deflections. The chef would really rather not spend more time on discussing his father or his past for a variety of reasons. It would probably be inevitable, as Claire had already asked the chef about the incident and Orin wasn’t going to lie to her.

Perhaps if he brushed it off and moved immediately into the actual injury Claire would get distracted. Orin had often found that healers got distracted in the presence of injuries, often to the detriment of being able to pay attention to anything. While it was too soon to tell if Claire was one of those individuals, Orin figured that it would probably be worth a try. After all, the only other alternative Orin saw was having to have a long conversation about parts of his life that were better left buried.

Before answering her question then, Orin decided to throw some more comments at her in the hopes that he could simply keep up a stream of words that wouldn’t really let her comment on any one specific part. Usually, Orin had to tamp down on his babbling but this was an instance where it might serve him in good stead. “It’s good to see you again!” he started, with a falsely bright tone. “I had no idea you were a healer. That’s good to know, though. I’ve always been a bit accident prone you know, so having a few healers that I actually know about has proven to be surprisingly useful to me in my life. Have you been a healer long? What’s it like to work at Gilia?” That seemed to be enough to get her mind on another track. Luckily, Orin was actually aided in his efforts by his pain, which took most of his mental efforts just to ignore. It meant he was unable to filter his speech, as he normally had to do.

“What made you get into healing in the first place?” Knowing that could be a very loaded question, Orin decided that now was the best time to bring up his father, while the woman was hopefully distracted. “Oh my father? Right, right I haven’t seen him since. I’ve been fine, really. Must’ve been a freak occurrence or something, anyway it’s not important.” He sped through that explanation as quickly as he could, while still making sure he could be understood. He immediately launched into the story of what brought him to seek medical attention.

“It was stupid, actually. I was training – in the Kendoka Sasaran, you know? – and I became distracted by, well, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I was training and I was supposed to block this blow that the trainer was sending at me only I blocked in the wrong direction, silly me, and took an iron staff to the left side of my chest. Which hurts quite a bit to be honest. The trainer didn’t think any ribs were cracked or broken but I don’t know how much knowledge he would actually have about, well, I guess he should have quite a bit of knowledge on training injuries although that now makes me worried about retaining him as my trainer. But I walked her under my own power, which hurt, but not debilitating so. That’s probably good for my actual prognosis right?” Realizing that he’d given Claire more than enough information – too much, in fact – Orin shut his mouth. It was probably time to let the expert get to work on him.
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