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audio; un: loveless

I'd like to keep this as efficient as possible, so I don't plan on talking your ear off.

Call me Daan. I'm a doctor. That should about cover all you need to know about me.

So, first question: is there already a clinic arranged by someone here? Have there been any injuries on top of there being a willing killer out there? Illnesses or whatever else. I can probably help you, even a little.

Second question: who has been here since the start of this whole mess of being trapped in a part of this city? Ideally, I'd like someone who can be informative, but I'm not overly picky.

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[Quietly, Daan listens. Honestly, sounds like a wretched illness, but what can you do except know and accept that it is your life? And he won't doubt how much it impacts Midnight; he knows better than Daan does.

At the question about blood withdrawal, Daan lets out a noise that's almost a laugh.]

Even if I had a clean needle to draw with, I have no way of doing too much testing at the moment. If I acquire equipment, that may be a different story, but for now your advice and information is helpful.

Now then. I'd like to posit what I can possibly offer you, something I'd appreciate you keep to yourself for now. Where I'm from, there are otherworldly skills people can acquire and use, even if there are plenty of people in denial about it. [sorry not sorry Karin, throwing her some shade a wholeass world away] It isn't too common, but it's usually understood that people can have these skills.

For me, all of mine are based off of healing. Injuries, illnesses, perhaps even death when done right. Granted, those abilities are probably largely diminished, as is the case with the majority if not all of us here. Still, I believe that I may have at least the ability to provide you with some relief for a time.

[ Midnight copes by being a clown... but like, Pagliacci, right?

Professional situations are one of the few wherein Midnight doesn't mind showing how seriously he takes the art of listening. He hardly blinks as he just... soaks it in. Combined with the assurance that Daan referred to the idea of removal of his growths, this sounds like something decidedly more ethereal than the Arts he's used to back home. It's definitely both risky and outside of his scope.

He leans back, thinking. ]

I'll keep this all confidential, not to worry. Is there anything specific about your process I should know first? Things I should prepare for?

[honkhonk

There's a small snort from Daan. He approaches, but is careful to not touch Midnight. Just keeping enough space between them.]

You might feel your heart skip a beat. Maybe you'll feel flush or flustered. But beyond that, you should theoretically feel somewhat improved, even a fraction. Admittedly, it's up to both the whims of Sylvian in addition to the way powers are not as strong presently for anyone here, but she usually responds somewhat decently toward me.

I would offer to do more. If we're able to attain more of our power in the future, then perhaps I can do more longterm effects for you. For today, we can try my ability, humbled in its strength as it is.

[ ... All right, yes, this is a professional situation, but Midnight can't help the way he shifts in his seat or the small, bemused smile floating onto his expression. That combination of symptoms does not sound particularly medical. 20 years of professionally giving others reason to feel flushed and flustered, and now the shoe is on the other foot. Huh. ]

I... see. I'm not opposed to trying what you and... Miss Sylvian have to offer. I don't know how I can repay you for any of this, but I'm grateful for anything you can do to help. It's not small to me, I promise. I don't have much else I can do for myself.

[ ... There doesn't appear to be anyone else in the room. When Daan talks about an "otherworldly" magic, is he talking about Miss Sylvian? ]

You don't need to be polite about her. If you want to do me any favors, do that much.

[daan's relationship with sylvian is facebook status complicated]

I'm a doctor. And I have been healing people with this skill since I was barely a teenager. Money is utterly useless here, but I suppose if I can think of something I'll let you know.

As it is, I'm just interested in seeing how this works for you. If you consent, I will try to invoke the power.

Well... Then dropping the honorific will have to be what I have to offer you, for now. I'm not in the habit of referring to women without a proper appellation.

[ Sylvian it is, then. Unless Daan needs a favor, in which case... Well, the future will take care of itself. ]

I do consent. Whenever you're ready.

[ Midnight straightens in his chair, still unsure as to what's about to happen, but not particularly fearful, either. He's skipped out on death twice now, and the third expiration date is inevitable. Why not try something new? ]

Oh, she isn't a woman in the traditional sense. But we can talk about that later.

[There's a pause, then Daan turns his head and almost seems to murmur something into Midnight's ear. Daan's words don't seem to make much sense, but the tone is deceptively adoring, and gives off the feeling of love in all of its meanings, the good and the obsessed. There's a small gasping like sound in the air, runic words formulating in the air, and the sense of ease crawling in with what love means to Midnight.

And from then, his ill effects should improve, even just a little. Just enough to be more bearable.]

[ It is not often that Midnight allows himself to be seduced. Flirting is a part of him, and that part of him generally draws in the like, and the like understand the rules, generally. He enjoys the game. He likes to pretend that there's nothing more than that. Nothing else outside the structure of flirtation that paces around its borders, pressing against the walls like a cat.

But he consented, and he doesn't mind being in love. So here it is, what "love at ease" feels like to him:

Yoru-kun, did you finish your book? Let's have dinner.

Someone beautiful is sitting next to him, but he has too much to say. It stutters out in something barely coherent, peters out into a whisper. The conversation continues without him. Please, please, please like me.

Hands on his shoulders, shaking him gently. You haven't been eating. Stubborn man. Walk me to the cafeteria. Buy us both something. Please.

He's very, very drunk, and a kind stranger from another world is carrying him to find a book.

When he looks up at the doctor again, he lets out a long, slow breath before he allows himself to smile, to give an awkward laugh. For just a moment, though, the hazy look in his eye was not at all professional. It was aimed at his doctor. It was painfully, deathly sincere. It's not Sylvian. It's him.

Already? Yeah. He's easy. It's a problem. ]

Well. I wouldn't mind that. More often.

[ Midnight straightens again, clearing his throat. He's a little out of breath, but he does indeed feel like his bones hurt a bit less, like there isn't a stress headache looming on the horizon. He laughs again. He is definitely not going to say it out loud, but he certainly can think of a reason why Daan might want to keep this under wraps. ]

[For a moment, he sees that gaze and thinks to himself: ah, how many times someone has looked at him that way after the Loving Whispers. Just an after effect, just her shitty touch because her idea of love is so consuming.

But he does realize that it's not. Quite that.

Oh dear.

Daan slowly stands up, keeping a withdrawn air about him as he usually does. Inside, he doesn't really know what to think. Panic? No, that's stupid. Unprofessional. Oh Daan, oh Daniël, you've done it now, old boy, old chap. She's dead twice, you son of a bitch, how's that weight feel?

It's fine. He's fine.]

I would be careful. It's easy to mix up the truth and the effects.

How are you feeling?

Oh, fine, just fine.

[ Midnight, for his part, is highly aware of his own feelings. He deals with them rationally, for the most part, picks them apart so thoroughly that it's impossible for him to mistake them for each other, for better or for worse.

It would have been pretty worrisome if he'd been mixing up the truth and the effects. It would have meant he was losing his touch. But no, he'd already known halfway through the conversation, when he looked over at the good doctor during yet another tedious explanation and found himself being watched by a single eye. Not an ounce of hatred in there. Just compassion. Patience.

Sylvian did not provide a revelation. She'd simply uncovered what was already there. ]

Well, perhaps a bit surprised, but I'm not sure I could have expected that. I'm glad you warned me.

[ Midnight stretches, feeling out his range of motion carefully, then looks at his new doctor and nods, giving him a small half-smile. Rational. Grateful, but not overly so. He's done this hundreds of thousands of times before. ]

Thank you. I feel much better.

[ A completely neutral, professional smile. He doesn't mind being in love. He's easy. It's a problem. One he understands well. ]

[The small internal panic eases up somewhat when Midnight keeps it professional. There's a part of him that feels conflicted; it's not as if Midknight is unattractive or impolite, but there's too much agonizing inside of Daan to even touch the idea or do anything with it.

Love has always been a complicated thing for him, when it should be so simple. Maybe that's the one thing he can relate to Sylvian about even if he spits on her name.]

There are other skills of mine related to a different deity. Unfortunately, I've had an affinity with Sylvian the longest, and that skill is usually fairly reliable. Though, I would have liked to have done more for you.

[And that part is true. Learning the medical field was more than a way to better his own life. It felt like he finally had control over something. Had something that was his. For awhile, anyway.]

In any case, do let me know if you need that again. I will cast it, and... you are prepared for its possible side-effect. At least until I have a better treatment plan for you.

[ It's only now that Midnight notes the way Daan stood and walked away, the clipped phrasing. He'd no idea that Daan had noticed. Even now, he's only caught the slightest pauses in Daan's previously even cadence. He's quiet, frowning slightly, while he works back to fit the stilted atmosphere into a puzzle that is missing too many pieces to make sense.

Did something happen? When did it happen? Did Midnight let something show? (He's terribly good at hiding it. Some days, he tricks himself into believing in his own games, and that's the best way to hide. One needs not act if one forgets they're on a stage.) Was it something entirely irrelevant? The doctor seems to have some distaste for this helper of his... Perhaps there's some history there? ]

I'm not at all opposed to M— your Sylvian.

[ Midnight licks his lips, tasting the mistake. That's... awkward. It certainly will take some getting used to. ]

But if you have better options, I'd like to try them someday, too. I've plenty to do, so I'd be grateful for any lasting solutions.

[ Midnight nods, then leans forward to scoop up his bag. He has a treatment plan, a schedule, possibly an ally should Operator Broca need medical attention. That's exactly what he came here for. ]

Edited 2023-07-14 10:01 (UTC)

No, I suppose you wouldn't be opposed. [Midnight has no reason to be, and Daan realizes most of his issues are personal, but. Still. Him and the gods never mixed well, no matter how much he has tried to run from it.

His head clears a bit, but he finds himself craving. Craving for smoke in his lungs, craving for a drink or ten, but it can all wait. Daan is patient, so he keeps his attention to his current patient.]

I'll keep you informed. It'll require some additional testing, but ideally I'll be able to do more in the future.

Have a pleasant evening, Midnight. You know where to find me.

You as well, Doctor. I'll reach out via network.

[ Midnight nods in farewell, then heads to the door and leaves without a second glance. Pretending nothing happened is also a practice he's quite accustomed to, although that's a broader skill, one he shares with his fellow Higashinese.

Midnight brushes his now dried hair out and sighs before starting the walk back to his apartment. It's a shame. Daan seemed quite nice. If the tone of the procedure had been a standard clinic experience, he would have invited him out for drinks. As of now, though, it seems a bit inappropriate. More to the point, he doesn't trust himself to walk the line in a way that looks effortless from the outside. Courtesy of Sylvian, he supposes, but he isn't in the habit of blaming his shortcomings on women, proper or no. ]

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