@stephen.strange

[rehandle]

Our most recent foray into sudden disaster has highlighted a great many things, but there are a couple in particular I'd like to address:

1. Medically speaking, we're understaffed
2. As a group, we're not aware of or making the best of our collective pool of resources.

We were quick to respond, and it's frankly astonishing what we were able to achieve given the immediacy and scope of the problem, but it's perfectly clear that we're not going to be living a quiet life. We need to make sure, before the next thing comes, that we're going to be able to build on the systems we created this time around. And if we're to have the capacity to respond to a mass need for medical attention without as much Morningstar presence going forward, we're going to need more hands on deck. Once that's done, anything smaller scale will be easy to account for.

So, a few things.

Firstly, I'd like to offer at least basic first aid training to anyone who'd like to accept it.
Secondly, I'd like to know who among us are already medically trained and to what degree. (This absolutely includes those with self-taught, functional knowledge, though I'll recommend you still accept the training for a wider breadth of understanding and to gain experience with the medical resources available here in the city.)
Thirdly, a show of hands for anyone among that number happy to take on a training role.

Lastly, I'd like to say thank you to anyone who dealt with injury in the field, the safehouses and general care afterwards, or anyone who helped move equipment or medics and the injured throughout the city - and especially to @clarke.griffin, without whom we wouldn't have had a working plan even half as quickly or the availability of equipment out in the field that we did. It all made a difference.

Comments

[rehandle]

[ sure you haven't

what comes next, though, is interesting too. it's a concern both admirable and reassuring, speaking to a sense of collective responsibility for the safety of the people they all represent. it's a small safety, regularly put at risk through no fault of their own.

wanting to protect it for others, whether those others are specific or not, bodes well. ]

It's alright. What we have doesn't show up on scans or in any tests we've subjected ourselves to. There's a very low risk that you'll draw any particular attention, aside from the strangeness of not having sought out a prosthetic sooner, but mostly it'll mean that you'll need to avoid getting into too much trouble publicly.

[ and, if it helps - ] I worked in a neural implant research facility for a while here. Being in the medical field, people didn't understand why I hadn't gone with the nanites.

[ he raises one scarred hand to indicate what he's talking about. ]

I sold them a story. They found it odd, but it got me by. If you're worried, you can lie.

[ he may not technically need to, but it's a viable option for some added security provided he can find the right story to tell. ]

[kleptocratic]

[ Eugenides looks at the stump of his hand and then looks away, quick as a needle darts through thread. ]

It wasn't an accident, and she didn't want me dead, so I had medical attention right away.

My profession doesn't require an expertise in cutting people up. [ This is one of the main reasons that he chose it. ] I could say one of the machines ran it over, but that might not pass inspection.

[ He doesn't know if that injury would look any different, to someone who knew how to recognize these things. ]

And they might try to inspect the machine for defects. What did you tell them?

[ Not "what happened" — though he'd listen to that, too. ]

[rehandle]

I told them I was in a hovercar accident and decided to hold off on treatment so I could track the interaction between damaged limbs and neural development.

[ not exactly in vogue research, people didn't get it, but why question further than that when nobody here in their right mind would want to hold off on treatment if they didn't have some obscure reason like the one he'd given?

and his excuse doesn't much help Eugenides. ]

You could cite a previous job. Or an enhancement gone wrong. Refuse to give detail, imply it was less than above board and you avoided hospital to avoid repercussions.

[ there are all kinds of people selling cybernetics in this city. not all of them are licensed. ]

[kleptocratic]

Mishap in the underground fighting rings, maybe. Not that I'm a fighter myself… [ He'd always been small for his age, growing up. ] But I don't think they'd follow that one up. And if they did, well, it's the sort of fish story an idiot would tell if they wanted to seem tough.

[ A good lie, in Eugenides's opinion, works even if someone can see through it. ]

[rehandle]

[ oh, that works. better too that it's come fresh from the source's own head - trying to remember an outsourced lie like remembering lines leaves room for error. a small smirk from Stephen marks the spot. ]

That's the one.

[kleptocratic]

So. [ That's an affirmative. Eugenides leans back, catching himself before he tips over, it's all very graceful. ] Do you have to lie a lot? [ His mind cuts off on a tangent the way a river does through the mountain. There's nothing to do but let it run its course. ] You must. [ He means "doctors as a class" more than Stephen specifically, though he doesn't actually specify. ] "This won't hurt too much." "You'll be through with it soon."

[ He hadn't been lying when he mentioned having a lot of experience as a patient. ]

[rehandle]

[ ah. it's becoming increasingly clear that his experience with the medical profession could've been better. then again, it also sounds like he had his hand cut off for stealing. with the kind of time and place he imagines that aligns to, kindness in doctors seems almost a perk. ]

Actually, no. [ because he's kind? not really. ] I was the best in the business and only took the good jobs so there was never any bad news to cover up. Patients were under heavy anesthetic for the procedures and recovery periods were a given, one we were obliged to be honest about with our patients and their families before any surgeries were carried out.

[ that and he was an asshole with close to no time for sugar coating. as for these days? ] I don't think I've grown out of the habit of being blunt. And I also don't think pretty words are the best way to form trust with a patient.

[kleptocratic]

I don't think drugging patients insensible is a good way to form trust either.

[ In truth, Eugenides has no good reason to hate doctors. They'd almost always treated him with competence and sympathy, which only annoyed him more. Sympathy was dangerously close to pity, and pity stung.

Being cooped up and vulnerable made him angry, and he tended to take that anger out on whoever was nearby, which usually was the doctor. Needless to say, he was often sedated.

Not that he has any intention of explaining all this. Instead. after a pause, he adds: ]

Maybe if you had really good drugs.

[rehandle]

Morphine has its perks. [ both of those points? conceded. ] But we're not allowed to do that where I'm from.

[ whatever Eugenides' previous experiences are (and they sound not the best), this time around ought to be... different, if not better. which begs the question - ]

Are you planning to go on your own?

[kleptocratic]

Like Morpheus? [ One of the new gods of sleep, he thinks. Likely another sort of lethium. ]

I hadn't made a plan yet. [ His mouth twists a little in contemplation. ] But we all walk into hell alone.

[rehandle]

Like Morpheus. It's a painkiller.

[ ... cheery metaphor. ]

Sure. But when we walk into hell, it knows we're new. Hospitals? Not so much. You might want to take a friend to walk you through it.

[kleptocratic]

[ What he wants has been feeling increasingly irrelevant lately, and makes a note to complain about it later. ]

Are you offering?

[ He looks— and is— confused. He's legitimately unfamiliar with the hospital, and so the idea that it might require a guide. Or moral support. ]

[rehandle]

[ oh. he isn't exactly who he had in mind - not that he'd any precise person in mind. ]

I can be if you'd like. Though I don't know if I'm your best option.

[kleptocratic]

You can pretend to be my father.

[ He suggests that mostly to see what sort of face the other man will make. ]

1/2

[rehandle]

[ there's a

squint




who have you been talking to? ]

[rehandle]

[ ... or it might just be that he's Old. an Old, Tired man. Stephen huffs out a breath, dismissing the urge to ask him how well he knows Daisy Johnson. ]

Pass. I'm not sure we want them assuming I've forcibly inducted you to some kind of cult.

[ hands. he's talking about their hands. the injure your hands and keep it that way cult. ]

[kleptocratic]

Yes. Of course. [ If he was going to make people think he'd joined a cult, he'd want it to be his cult. The Eugenidean Mysteries, or some such. ]

I don't know what it would be like, anyway. Having a father. [ His eyes sweep the floor, and he swallows awkwardly.

(Eugenides's father is alive, well, and for some reason still acknowledges his youngest son.) ]

[rehandle]

[ oh, God. is this a therapy session now? should he have foreseen this coming?

doing his best not to appear visibly uncomfortable... ]

Sorry to [ slight unsure pause ] hear that.

[ appropriate? no idea. never having really bothered with the bedside manner part of the medical equation, he's painfully ill-equipped to assess the situation. ]

[kleptocratic]

[ Oh good, this is making him uncomfortable. Eugenides continues, softer, not looking up: ]

It was only after my mother died that I had to take up stealing. And then…

[ His voice drifts off significantly. ]