Frank Lloyd Wright Once Said Something About Doctors and Architects

[drabsolutelynot]

Who: Dr. Rosen + OTA
What: In Kate's absence Rosen tries to do his bit to keep things orderly and organized at the clinic.
Where: Clinic.
When: Backdated to May 1st + 2nd
Warnings: None. Will update if needed.

Certainly it would be an odd sight, a gangly older man on his hands and knees trying to grab for a few boxes under a hospital bed, white hair gone flyaway and shirtsleeves bunched up above his elbows. He grunts a bit in frustration and strain as his fingers accidentally push the box farther away therefore forcing him to climb farther beneath the bed, belly now flush against the ground in his pursuit
. 

The struggle is all part of a bigger mission. In a moment of restlessness Lee had seized upon the idea of familiarizing himself with all the odds and ends of the clinic that he had never really had time to learn before and this snowballed into a need to clean, sort, and organize the odd nooks and crannies of the clinic that had fallen into disorder over the past month or so. To his good fortune it was a quiet day and as such he has had the liberty of pushing around chairs and beds, stacking books and boxes on top of tables, and as can be seen now, climbing under furniture. 

As the door has been left open in the offhanded hope of letting the place air out as he cleans, and given his head is currently tucked far back beneath a bed, he may not hear right away if someone enters, but needless to say the doctor is in for the day. 

Comments

[greywaren]

[First, it was Bruce.

Bruce had known for awhile, Ronan wagers. How the clinic really got its supplies, how so many particular things managed to be stocked in the shelves. He'd known, and he'd respected it and he hadn't asked for too much. But then Bruce left and it was Kate, who knew less, but still knew some.

Ronan hasn't told many others. Adam knows, but Adam would betray his secrets, even if it could help someone. Everything has been on Ronan's own terms, for which he's thankful... even if that means that the clinic itself has gone undersupplied for the past few weeks.

Because now Kate is gone and Ronan has no more organizational clinic contacts. He isn't one for lending a helping hand to those in need, but he also isn't heartless, and as much as he doesn't like the idea of trusting someone else, someone new, someone who could leave again- he knows that he doesn't have much choice if he wants to continue keeping the clinic at least somewhat stocked.]

Hey.

[He says from the doorway, a shoulder leaned against it. Ronan looks every bit the punk, an older teen- though maybe in his early 20s by now- with buzzed hair, a creeping tattoo around his neck, leather jacket, scarred knuckles, ripped jeans- all of it. Generally not someone who goes poking around clinics.

But he's been here before, picking up Adam and walking him home. He only shows his face around here when Adam is nearby, but he's not quite an unfamiliar sight here. Which has to count for something.]

What're you doing?

[drabsolutelynot]

[Rosen stops when he hears the voice, fingers tenuously gripping at the box he had been pursuing, before relinquishing his mission and wriggling out from beneath the bed. It takes some awkward maneuvering with his gangly limbs, but when he at last emerges his glasses are dusty, his pale blue shirt is wrinkled, and his hair is sticking up in odd patches. A stark contrast to Ronan's more sharp mien.]

Ah, Hello there, um-

[He falters. The young man certainly looks familiar, it would be hard to forget someone who strikes such a distinct image, but its someone who has passed by him in his periphery, has done so on more than one occasion probably but with who, to the best of his memory Lee's memory, he's never actually spoken.]

-I've been trying to tidy up a bit and to figure out what our current stock looks like.

[He chews his lower lip a bit. Uncertain if maybe he's stepped on some toes or overreached]

I'm sorry but I can't seem to remember your name

[greywaren]

Ronan.

[He answers simply, not bothering to include his last name- Ronan's method of speech has always been short and to the point. He's heard from Adam that this new guy is in charge, and while he's still not happy about it... it's a situation that needs to be dealt with sooner, rather than later.

Especially with Rosen fucking around with the stock. He's sure to realize that some of it can't possibly be found in Hadriel, which means- well, it could have been received from propositioning the gods, he supposes.

That's not the truth, but it is a logical conclusion to come to.

Ronan doesn't like older people. He doesn't trust people in general, but the wire-framed glasses and graying hair particularly bristles him, and his mouth presses together tightly. He doesn't know if Rosen is trustworthy or not, but he doesn't have much option either. Still, like he'd done with Bruce, he prefers to leave the situation as vague as he can.]

Your 'current stock' looks like shit. [He drags out a chair from a nearby desk and spins it around, before sitting backwards in it, his knees wide on either side of the back portion, arms draped over the top.] I know, 'cause I'm the supplier.

[A pause; he smiles, not particularly kindly.]

I don't think Kate left a note about that.

[drabsolutelynot]

[Rosen's brows arch upward at that. No. No Kate had definitely not left him any information about a supplier, however that would answer some of his more immediate questions. And while Lee cannot pretend that this young man's demeanor isn't more than a bit off-putting, it is also not wholly unfamiliar to him. Several patients of his come to mind.

This is far from the first time Lee has been watched with sharp, distrusting eyes and spoken to in a blunt, unyielding tone]

You are correct [He starts, hands hanging at his sides] Kate made no mention of a supplier. And unfortunately there are many things I never got a chance to ask her about.

Would you be willing to fill in some of the blanks? Perhaps beginning with how the supply chain works exactly?

[greywaren]

No.

[He says, bluntly. There's something satisfying in being able to say it like that, in tucking himself back into secrecy since Bruce and Kate knew something or another about his abilities. Adam knows, but he won't tell anyone. There's no need for Rosen to know, not yet- after all, Ronan didn't tell Bruce until months into their agreement.

This can wait. He needs to make sure that the situation is safe first anyway- a transfer of power is always a dangerous thing, and Ronan is always distrustful of new people.]

I won't tell you exactly how it works, [he clarifies,] just that I'll supply the clinic. This is the deal I had with Bruce: you get me a list of what you need. Put whatever shit you need on there, doesn't matter what it is or how hard you think it'll be to find.

[Ronan leans down to rest his chin on top of his arms on the chair, infuriatingly casual despite the tense subject matter.]

You give me a week, and then I'll give you your shopping list, under three conditions: you don't ask me where it comes from, you don't tell anyone that I get it for you, and you prioritize treating Adam Parrish if he needs medical care.

[A pause, and then-]

Alright?

[drabsolutelynot]

[Ah. The tight-lipped tough kid act. That's one that never gets old. And it never gets old because it's dead on arrival from the first time around. Rosen's not impressed, and his knee-jerk reaction would normally be to play hardball. Giving back what he gets or stonewalling until he can wheedle his way in. After all he's not the friendly neighborhood doctor who hands out lollipops and dinosaur bandaids. Not really. Even if he's unwittingly stepped into that position here in Hadriel.

But he's also a pragmatist as well as a realist and he recognizes that, if this man can be believed, then he's not really in a position to argue. He's got no cards to deal here.]

Alright. I can work with that. [He slips his hands in his pockets, looking Ronan steadily in the eyes]

Where you get it doesn't make much of a difference to me [Beggars can't be choosers and all that] I have no reason to tell anyone. And I can agree to VIP treatment for this, um, this Adam Parrish you mentioned. [To Rosen's knowledge he's never met this person]

But you can guarantee that what you are getting is authentic? Its not any strange god-cave material?

[greywaren]

Yeah.

[He promises gruffly. Ronan doesn't like relying on the gods any more than anyone else- but unlike most others here in the city, he has the power to do something about it. He doesn't really use it for much more than medicine and sometimes food when he's feeling especially paranoid, but it's useful all the same.]

Parrish should be by for his shift soon, [he murmurs thoughtfully.] He knows about the deal, but nobody else here does.

[Ronan sighs, moving to stand.]

If you need to get ahold of me, you can ask him. Just him.

[glacius]

It wouldn't surprise Glacius to hear that the clinic had fallen into a state of disarray recently, especially after Kate's disappearance. Hell, his own life had been scattered by the loss, and given that this was his first time losing someone he had felt truly close to, it had taken the alien a damn long time to even begin to start adjusting to her absence. The only reason he'd managed to begin clawing his way out of the pit of depression he'd fallen into was because of the intervention of his friends and partner.

That doesn't mean he's magically become himself again in the span of a few short days-- he was still operating in a slight fog, a sense of distance to him. He didn't want to be seen by anyone or be put in a position where he would have to interact, he just wanted to numb himself to the people around him, as growing to care had proved itself to be an utterly dangerous endeavor. He did, however, want to at least carry on the duties that would honor his friend in her absence. He would do things that he hoped would make her smile, were she somehow still capable of watching his actions.

So he's returning to his early-morning visits by Hadriel's clinic, intending to see if there were supplies they needed that he could fetch and to make sure that no one was trying to cause any trouble. The alien was surprised to hear the tell-tale sounds of someone rummaging around inside the building--objects being moved, clunking and clattering punctuating the silence of the morning. Fiercely protective of Kate and all that was important to her and in a bad space mentally, the first thought that pops into Glacius' mind isn't that Rosen is trying to help clean up the place... but that he's attempting to ruin or steal from it, and as such, his entrance is not a cordial one.

The galactic marshal bursts in through the door with a rumbling growl, his one intact mandible flared--the other side of his face is consumed by heaving scarring, a sight that he's aware makes his already fierce and otherworldly visage look even more dangerous to most. He's also not wearing any of his armor or adornments, given that he's not here in any official capacity, making it hard to tell that he is in fact a member of the Guard--and probably more likely that he's likely to be mistaken for a dangerous creature. For once in his life, Glacius isn't thinking of that; rather, his focus is consumed by safeguarding what he has left of his friend, and--ironically in this particular instance, given he might actually causing more problems here--of doing right by her in the only ways left to him.

So the alien starts to lumber right towards Rosen the moment he spots the man, booming a demand as he advances. "What are you doing?! Kate has been gone from this clinic for only a handful of days and you already think it is suitable to ransack this structure? This place is under my protection-- I will not hesitate to cast you from its grounds!"

[drabsolutelynot]

While Rosen is no stranger to being threatened, having been held at knife and gun point on several occasions, his previous experience has primarily been of the human-variety and as such he is entirely unprepared for the sudden and wholly intimidating presence of an angry, and quite possibly aggressive, alien. In his haste to free himself from his vulnerable position on the floor, he smacks his head on the under beam of the bed and instead of hopping up to his feet as he had hoped, he ends up gracelessly rolling onto his back, hands held up in a gesture of surrender.

"I-I'm sorry," He wheezes, glasses askew as his eyes are nearly bulging from their sockets in fear. "I'm just trying to c-clean. I t-thought since Kate is gone maybe I could h-help sort out our stock and-- and--"

Rosen finds himself rapidly losing control over his voice, staring rather pathetically up at Glacius.

[glacius]

While the human before him scrabbles about, only to end up on his back like a squirming insect, Glacius continues to advance--seeming intent on grabbing the man with one great white hand and dragging him bodily from the building. Even the gesture of surrender seems more like an act of being caught out than anything; it isn't until Rosen says that name that the alien actually stops, his whole body going completely still, his own eyes widening.

"Ww-what did you say?" the marshal utters, seeming rather taken aback. A moment later and he tries to harden his expression once more, his eyes narrowing and features tightening, not wanting the vulnerability to be noticed. "... Explain yourself."

[drabsolutelynot]

Rosen takes a deep drag of breath, trying to settle himself so he can speak more coherently. "I am Dr. Rosen. I worked with Kate here."

He pauses to swallow around the ball of nervousness still sitting high in his throat. "After everything that happened when the city got split and now with Kate's disappearance I wasn't sure how else to help except to try and get this place in order as best I could. That, and to try and document what we have in stock and to note what we might need."

With a vague gesture he indicates a pile of papers on a side table where he normally works from. They are his notes, lists of things they have, lists of things that are running low, etc. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries."

"And I assure you," Lee adds hastily when he realizes he's not addressed the earlier accusation, "I am not here to steal anything."

[glacius]

That seems to be about all it takes to scatter whatever remnants of aggression had been lingering in the alien's demeanor. His eyes widen once more and he takes one heavy, staggering step backwards as if he's been physically struck--and for all intents and purposes, he might as well have been. Realizing that this person had in fact been an associate, possibly even a friend of Kate's, and that his attempts to safeguard her memory have actually resulted in him doing wrong by her is enough cause for self-admonishment. But now that he's come around a bit more, the fear that he human is openly displaying at his presence tears open old wounds too. He doesn't want to be seen as a monster and yet in this instance he deserves it, given the way he barged in on the man, completely intending to be imposing.

He's really fucked it all up, here... but at least he's not so far gone in his misery and hurt that he can't try to put it back together. After holding completely still for a few moments, Glacius extends on long, muscular limb towards Rosen, offering to help him up. His head is dipped in sincere--and possibly shameful--apology.

"I'm... I'm sorry," the marshal murmurs quietly, whether or not the human chooses to take his hand. Should he, he'll feel himself lifted effortlessly to his feet by the alien's immense strength. "This place is..." one of the few things he has left of her... but that's a bit too personal, yet, especially since he's back to trying to keep himself distant from everyone. "... Falling on hard times. I can't take any chances."

[drabsolutelynot]

The palpable tension in the room seems to ebb away when Glacius's stance shifts. So much so that Rosen feels confident enough to raise himself up on his elbows for a moment before accepting the hand offered to him. Though the fact that he momentarily feels weightless as the alien makes quick work of getting him back on his feet is undeniable unnerving. He may been lanky, but at an 6ft Rosen is not used to the unimpressive bulk of his body feeling absolutely inconsequential.

When he is upright he straightens his glasses before fixing Glacius with a forgiving expression. "Its alright. No harm done." After all, aside from a bit of a scare no one got hurt, right? "Given the nature of this place-," a cave that takes your friends and throws enemies at you, "-your reaction was more than understandable."

And he's getting a hint that there's something more to it than just a want to protect the clinic for the clinic's sake or to be a good-samaritan. Unsure what else to say, he holds out his hand for an introductory handshake.

"My name is Lee."

Only a few months ago he would have hesitated to hold his hand out to a being so unlike himself, a being that he would have believed to be a hallucination, something out of movies or television. But after months of being here, making friends with talking skeletons and being witness to magic, he no longer hesitates.

[tablewithoutpity]

Hannibal's own involvement at the clinic had not been as frequent as he would have liked. When he was not working with the odd patient here and there, or struggling to keep himself and Will safe and alive when mayhem descended, he was taking care of Will, who was still rather desperately ill at times. But he had heard that Kate had vanished, and when he had the opportunity he cam by. He walked in to find Dr. Rosen on his hands and knees, reaching under the bed. He paused at the door, tilted his head to observe for a moment, then coughed politely.

"Hello, Lee."

[drabsolutelynot]

At the outset Lee had not expected to get so deeply involved with the clinic. He had expected mostly to be an extra set of hands that could be called upon in an emergency, but somehow there he was, one of the regular staff. Perhaps the fact that he had no one here from home, no one he had any particularly pressing commitment to, which left him with more free time than he'd like and an empty apartment.

"Hannibal? Is that you?" His voice was muffled from under the bed but it was only a moment or two before he was shuffling backwards and pushing up onto his knees and ultimately his feet. When he was standing in all of his dusty, mussed glory he offered the man a friendly smile.

"I'd shake your hand but I'm afraid they aren't clean. I've been dusting."

[tablewithoutpity]

Hannibal answered that smile with a warm smile of his own. He was fond of the man, fond of his scattered, sincere manner, dust and all. He glanced away, scanning the room, the boxes. "I can see that. Quite a lot to be done." He looked back to his friend, the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Can I help?"

[drabsolutelynot]

"Well-," Lee swung his arms a bit in thought as he cast a glance around the room. "I would be very grateful if you could help me move some of the heavier furniture so I can clean behind them." His hand gestures vaguely towards some of the tables and cupboards.

His gaze then made its way back to Hannibal, "How have you been?"

[tablewithoutpity]

Hannibal nodded at the suggestion and began taking his coat off. At the question he smiled again, this time in polite amusement. "With the obvious caveat of being in a cave populated by monsters and gods who manipulate emotions," he said, hanging up the coat, "I'm doing rather well." He started carefully rolling up his sleeves. "And you?"

[drabsolutelynot]

"Well I've managed to stay alive despite everything," Lee grinned impishly before throwing a dust rag over his shoulder and bending to grab the handle of a wash bucket, "So I could be doing worse. Though I must admit Kate's disappearance is disheartening."

His playful expression faded then to something a bit more grim.

"Though that reminds me that I've been meaning to message you. There's a young psychologist, newly arrived here. Perhaps you've run into him? Dr. Lance Sweets?" Lee's eyebrow furrowed in question as he craned his head to look at Hannibal. "He looks about 12 but I've found he's got a good head on his shoulders."

[journalname]

[Until the incident with the city split, Asgore had no involvement with the clinic. Among monsters, he wouldn't really consider himself an expert in healing magic, after all, and he has simply preferred to stay at home with the children.

After what happened, though, it's become clear that no matter what the situation at home, he's certainly the monster most experienced with healing magic here. And for all that his understanding of human anatomy and illness is limited, magic works a lot faster than medicine in a crisis situation. In the right circumstances, he could probably prevent a death where the human doctors could not. He should be more involved.

Today's a far cry from the intimidating figure he presented during the split. He's left his armor and cape at home again, not expecting any issues today, and is wearing a very very large sweater left over from the winter events. He hesitates for a moment, not wanting to startle Rosen while he's under the bed, but ultimately decides that turning to see a huge Boss monster looming over him would be the more startling experience.]

Good morning, Dr. Rosen.

[drabsolutelynot]

[A similar thought has preoccupied Rosen for a good week or so now. The limitations of his medicine. After the city had been cleaved in two he was forced to truly confront how, in dire situations, his practical training in treating injuries was the equivalent of trying to spit out a fire. Stitches and bandages he could do, but wounds from mythical beasts? He is severely outgunned.

And Rosen has never been a proud man in this regard. Professional pride is what puts patients at unnecessary risk. If he feels there is a better alternative for a patient he will more than willingly opt for that alternative.

He's just unsure how this all works. Who to ask? How to ask? Is he overstepping his role to ask in the first place?

Lee has finally managed to grab hold of the box he had been struggling for when he hears Asgore's voice. It is a pleasant surprise and from under the bed he calls a cheerful greeting.]

Good morning, Asgore. Just a moment...let me get out from under this thing...

[The box slides out first and is quickly followed by Rosen's spindly frame]

How are you?

[journalname]

Quite well. And yourself?

[He smiles - the doctor is certainly looking better than when he saw him last. He'd healed the injuries, but there was little he could do for hunger, and the strain of living as they had been.]

[drabsolutelynot]

I am alright. Much of that thanks to you. [Rosen smiles softly] I never really thanked you for saving me. If it hadn't been for you fighting off that beast and for healing me, I'd be a sorry sight to see right now.

[too skinny and a bit scruffy is his default. But mauled would have been new]

Actually... [His voice trails a moment before it dawns on him that Asgore may actually be the answer to his problem] ...actually Asgore, if you have a moment there's something I'd like to discuss with you.

[journalname]

Oh, no thanks are necessary.

[But he smiles. It's a thing, to save human lives rather than take them.]

Of course. I came here to speak with you, as a matter of fact. [But he's willing to let Rosen go first.]

[drabsolutelynot]

[Rosen moves to lean against a cupboard, arms crossing across his chest]

I don't know if you knew Faith or Flick, but they were two of the healers here at the clinic. [His expression turns wistful]

Not only has Kate, the person who was running this clinic long before I ever got here, disappeared, it appears that Faith and Flick have as well. That is-- well its a hard blow to our resources. Recent events have really shown me how my medicine can really only go so far. I have no magic or special abilities, only pills and bandages.

[He chews at the corner of his lip before catching Asgore's eyes timidly]

I was wondering if perhaps you'd consider joining the staff