[FIN][Yael] Bilge Rats and Physicians [Ozzrick | Tacrith]

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

“Nnnngh…”

Ozzrick was…

…somewhere.

When he first began to regain consciousness, he likely could not have recited his name, let alone anything of more particularity. He ached. He felt a dizzying vertigo when he shifted his weight, and when he attempted to sit up-

Well, he was not doing that again any time in the immediate future.

Grunting, he lifted a hand to his face, rubbing at shut eyes and attempting to piece together his existence. Ozzrick Brisbane, son of Isamene, daughter of the troupe. Yael. Letting a hand slide down, he squinted upwards through narrowed eyes to the ceiling overhead. A proper building, this was. A real roof, not the overhead of some cubby in a ship. Gradually, portions of his situation came back to him.

He knew, at least, where he was—roughly. He had wanted, still wanted, his own ship, and had some months ago taken temporary (which might become permanent) leave from the troupe he’d grown up with to accompany a trader captain on a routine route between Oba and the ‘toxic’ prisoners’ island. Many spoke ill of the place, or treated it with substantial caution: strange people there, they said, with blackened glowing eyes and melting ears and dark protruding crystals. That the extremist alkidike had been banished there was reason enough for some to steer far clear.

But it wouldn’t stop everyone. The land was ripe for business with a full slew of people ready to be introduced to the mainland’s wares — and on top of that, it had it’s own infrastructure, exotic beasts and plants, new information. There was all the reason in the world for trade between the continents to develop over the years and, presented with the opportunity and never being a nervous spirit, Oz had leapt on the opportunity to see it himself. It was, after all as he had decided in Oba, more or less exactly what he endeavored to do entirely of his own power one day—to run a trade ship between the lands and make his way that way.

Of course, coming on as a young man with no ship experience or coin of his own to begin with meant he hadn’t been privy to the most glorious of living conditions or work position. He hesitated to label himself ‘cabin boy’ but any other job title ran the risk of being even less favorable. Deck swab, perhaps. Regardless, it had gotten him here, which was enough to satisfy him. Things had even seemed to go rather well upon arrival, all things considered.
The locals were incredibly leery, but that had seemed very manageable.

Until Oz had decided, in an off period, to traverse about a bit himself and perhaps taste the local spirits and perhaps engage the local women at an established pub, and…

He couldn’t have detailed out exactly what had gone on in the in between of that experience and his current location, but he got the impression that someone had taken issue with his friendliness towards their women, that he had taken issue with that person’s issue, that the two had begun to resolve their disagreement physically, that he had been dumped somewhere, and then-

Well, from the smell and sound of things it actually felt like he may have somehow found himself delivered at a local clinic.

He hoped he didn’t look that bad.  

[Cornetified]

Being one of the few who held almost no superstitions could both be good and bad. When Tacrith arrived to work that morning, he was greeted immediately with the tale of the foreigner who came to beat up the men in order to harass their women. An absolute brute with blood-red hair! The night-shift healer had done the minimum care for the stranger, but was otherwise too afraid to enter the room. A nurse had been in to check the man once or twice, but the status remained thankfully unconscious.

That is, until a moment ago when the nurse poked his head into the room on hearing a sound, screamed when he saw the stranger moving, and scurried to find the healer.

Tac was shaking his head as he walked down the hall. Just his luck to walk into work the moment the foreigner woke up... The notes implied a simple scuffle. Considering the place, he assumed that strong drinks had been involved. This was why he kept it to medicinal purposes only for himself.

With a short knock to announce himself, Tac walked on in. "How are you feeling?" he asked without preamble, bending slightly to peer at the strange face with his expression professionally flat. Well, the guy certainly smelled of the pub...

The Only Black Uke

 

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

A brief tap of a knock was all the warning Oz got that he would be receiving company. Fortunately he didn’t require much more, and in fact welcomed the opportunity to get some conversation and answers. Perhaps it would even be a cute little healer’s assistant, or-

Oh, it was young man. Not much older than him, but perhaps a couple years so. Young, regardless, for a healer in some fancy facility.

Ozzrick had certainly never been privy to being treated to an entire building dedicated to tending patients—but then again, he supposed he couldn’t be certain that was where he was until he gathered a few more details. Either way, it reminded him more of Oban civilization than the clannish Tale forests and plains. But with dark, shadowy overtones.

And that purple hair.

The boy had asked him a question.

“Ah. Mm?” He cleared his throat. “Oh, y’know…” He flashed teeth after a moment, pleased that this one already, more than several others, showed guts—none of that skittering back and darting avoidance as if some were afraid even to share a room with him, let alone touch. “I’ve felt worse. Think you could do me the honor of explainin’ where I’ve got myself dumped? I know I look like a local and blend right in but I promise I’m not actually so familiar with these parts…”  

[Cornetified]

Well, the guy seemed to have his sense of humor in tact- whatever type of sense that might be. Tac walked to the other side of the bed to take the stranger's wrist to check his pulse. From his experience, the physiology of the foreigners is similar enough to go over basics like those of the homeland. "You have been 'dumped' at the medical center of Pajore, of Yeal." Scribbling a couple notes, he started looking over the bandaged areas. "It looks like you were able to avoid any serious injury. That wrist will be hurting you for a while, at least. You might wish to avoid the pub for a while."

The Only Black Uke

 

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Ozzrick eyed his company. A young man, but no longer a novice if his demeanor and presence in the health care facility meant anything—though he supposed, being a foreigner in lands as hostile as this one to outsiders, it was entirely possible they had sent an incompetent prentice in to tend to him. Not that it likely mattered. This man didn’t seem incompetent, and Oz had spent enough time hung over after a bar fight to know that his condition wasn’t critical. It would be hard to make things worse aside from poisoning him or bashing large pots and pans around to aggravate his headache.

So, it left him with company. Really, it was far better hospitality than he would have expected from them as a people. Perhaps one of his first strokes of luck here. Humming, he stretched, careful not to jar his wrist as he folded his spare hand behind his head and eyed the doctor.

“‘Spose it’s possible, though ‘avoiding the pub’ isn’t an inclination I’ve had before often, lest there was someone there I was avoiding in particular. Don’t suppose you look like the sort to make trips yourself though.” Then, as though stirred into remembrance by the normalcy of the conversation as his head cleared, he shook his and then untucked his hand from behind his head to hold it out. “Oz, by the by. Ozzrick Brisbane. Bit less skittish than your fellow islanders, aren’t you?”  

[Cornetified]

Brow cocking slightly, Tac gave only a small nod in return. To apparently be familiar with such occurrences after tending the bar, and still desire the be a regular patron? "Do try to make possible a reality; at least until you leave Pajore." It was a past-time that Tac just could not relate to. "You could say that I look the sort as much as I partake in the sort," he said idly, making a couple more notes. He did go back to the door to call for an assistant and requested a couple items from the nervous runner.

He had just set the tablet down when the hand reached toward him. He couldn't help giving it a short look of surprise. Most foreigners saw the wariness of the others and approached him the same. ..At least this young man seemed observant enough to note his traits. Once he was done being surprised, he reached to accept the hand. "I am Tacrith," he replied. "The people of Yeal live for their superstitions and tales. I have never been one to entertain such whimsy." A tiny smirk rose as he turned away. "Most do not appreciate my 'different' way of thinking, but it has served me well enough. As it is, what part of the other land do you hail from? I have met very few foreigners, and they did not look much like you do."

The Only Black Uke

 

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

When the other man took his offered hand, Ozzrick flashed his teeth, grinning pleasantly. This certainly was a step up from most of the anxious locals. “Good to meet you, Tacrith,” he said. “Suppose I can relate to that, odd ways of thinking and all. Never much subscribed myself to any one set of local rules and dictations. Easier to make your own way.”

At the question, though, What part of the other land do you hail from? his eyes took on a mischievous glint. Much to his surprise, not so many foreigners this far south even asked. ‘Mainlanders’ were mainlanders to these Yaeli so far as he could tell — but he did love to talk of his travels, so the opportunity was ripe.

“Tale! Originally, in any case,” he said. “It’s a far, far northern region by these standards. First if you scooted off from here by ship you’d be hitting Oban or Matori shore…” His hands moved as he talked, gesturing for the shoreline and then upward as he continued. “Matori’s pretty enough, lots of blue people - you’ve probably seen a few - sand, palms, little shacks. Oba is a great desert, sand and sand and sand and full of people, one handful with more coin than they know what to do with, and the rest under their employ as servants and soldiers to try and take over more land when they feel like the heat’s makin’ em cross. In any case, fairly pretty place if you find the palaces, bit bland elsewise unless you take a liking to rolling gold and cooking in your own skin. I quite like it myself. Straight up from Oba, though, halfway across the continent, you have my home country, great great stretches of uninhabitable rolling plains…and the forests, where we make our home. Me personally?” His fingers gestured to himself.

“I’ve always been a wanderer. Raised by gypsies if you have those here, and I’m here on business.” He paused. “Sort of.” He eyed his company. “You ever been off the island?”  

[Cornetified]

Tac paused for a moment. Make his own way? He had never stopped to think of it that way, but he supposed that was true enough. Not that it was going to change anything, but seeing this as his own way.. was interesting.

Not quite expecting the exposition he was suddenly listening to, Tac leaned back against the wall and watched Oz curiously. The guy was one of those talkers... He was grateful when the assistant returned with a small jar and a mug of water, though the assistant vanish the moment he was relieved of his burden. Shaking his head, Tac took the items to the side table to mix some of the jar's contents into the mug, though still paying attention to the descriptions of the larger land. It would be good to keep the information in mind.

"No, I have not," he replied, giving the mixture a sniff. "I am not the 'wanderer' sort. Now, drink this up. It is important to re-hydrate after the pub, and the herbs will help ease general aches caused by the consequences of your choices."

The Only Black Uke

 

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

“Missin’ a lot,” was all he answered immediately. “I couldn’t imagine not getting out myself. I understand there are homebodies in this world, but…” Oz shook his head at the thought. “Think I’d feel stagnant for my own self if I didn’t move and head out to see the world I’m in. There’s so much of it, you know? And so beautiful, in such different ways. Oba’s sands, sure they go on for longer than you think they possibly could and it’s its own monotony, but even that has a beauty to it. Moreso when you see what can be built up in it.”

Taking the offered mug, Oz took a whiff also and didn’t so much as crinkle his nose, accustomed as he was to a wide variety of scents and smells to shove in his mouth, even if not all the most pleasant. This didn’t even strike him as so bad—just a bit odd. A local remedy, he imagined. There was certainly a fair enough share of foreign plants here.

As he swallowed it down, he eyed the man looking after him. Tacrith, he’d said.

“You really are somethin’ for your sort,” he said at length. “No offense intended, but most I’ve met since coming across here hop and skip about like all us others come bearing disease on our breath and curses in our fingertips. It’s refreshing to meet one who’ll hold a conversation, let alone…” He swished his medicine cup in gesture of indication, “babysit a hungover sailor.”  

[Cornetified]

Tac pursed his lips doubtfully. Sure, he was missing a lot, but he was fairly certain that it wasn't anything he would be sad to find out he'd missed either. The thought of seeing the other lands though.. while intriguing for the man who lived for learning, he found himself shaking his head at the idea. Him? Travel? He was far too busy here to leave.

Brow cocking, he paused for a thoughtful moment before shaking his head. "Many around here think I don't have enough sense to fear, but I have never been one to give in to superstitions. My father was quite logical as well. ..To be fair, all my people have had for generations now are rumors of the mainland that our ancestors came from. One or two visitors will not quickly change such deep-seated views." His nose wrinkled slightly, both at his silly race and at the term used to describe his duties. "I would hardly call it babysitting. I am simply here to make sure that you are well enough to make space for others who need the care provided at this clinic. I assure you that I have other duties I will be attending once you finish that drink."

The Only Black Uke

 

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Oz watched, and then cocked a grin. “Suppose I should take my time then,” he said. “Savor your company while I have an excuse for it.” After another swallow, though, he clarified, “Meant it more as a testament to your patience, though, than anything else. I don’t know of many places from Oba to Tale that would take time out to nurse a drunk. So…” He tipped his head in a bow and winked, “cheers, to your hospitality.”

He would have some explaining to do once he did need to make his way out and back to the ship, but for now it was relief enough to be feeling better, and to have met at least one local willing to hold a conversation. Then a thought occurred to him and he glanced to the man with a sudden small frown.

“Does, ah, this gracious act of generosity come with a bill I’ll be held accountable for by any chance?”  

[Cornetified]

Tac gave Oz a surprised look. The guy wanted him to stick around? Well, that was a new one. "You are no longer drunk, unless you have been drinking while unconscious. You are a patient in my clinic, and that is all there is to it. I have other patients to tend to as well, so keep your savoring to a minimum."

The frown followed by the concerned question set his lips into a slight purse. "If you spent all of your funds at the pub last night, you are welcome to do some work around here to repay us instead."

The Only Black Uke

 

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Ozzrick smiled, amusement coloring his expression as doctor qualified himself and his presence and time there. Adamant little social outcast, wasn’t he? “I understand. Couldn’t enjoy ourselves too much or I might forget where I am, white walls notwithstanding.”

As he finished his cup of prescribed medication, he considered the latter words and after a moment rolled his shoulders. “Well, I suppose here I am ready to make it up to you, then. What can I get on? Soon as I make it out of here I’ve no promises I’ll be back unless you make a habit of checking bilges and ditches for straying seafarers.”  

[Cornetified]

Tac returned his gaze flatly. What was so funny to this guy? ...Perhaps he was still a little drunk? Still feeling the effects of his night out? "Most would not consider spending time in a clinic as enjoyable," he muttered with a sigh. Drunk or just plain sassy...

Since care for Oz had been limited due to fear, the amount to work off was nothing too severe. Now, what could the guy do that would be useful but not throw the whole hospital into a tizzy fit?

Walking over to the doorway, he gestured for a nurse to join him. "This young man lacks the funds to pay us for his stay, so he will need to work off his bill. If you would take him to-"

The woman held up her hand immediately. "I'm not going near that thing! I don't want whatever diseases he's carrying around."

"You are a nurse, not a youngling. This man has no residual harm on him to affect you."

The nurse snorted. "I won't happen, Tacrith. You seem immune to whatever pox he might carry, so he is yours to tend to. I even asked the other doctor to make sure, because I knew you would try to pull this. I absolutely will not."

There was a minute of stern back and forth before Tac stepped back into the room, looking quite displeased. A portion of his patients would go to the other doctor there so that he could.. babysit. After all, he refused to let the patient just leave freely. "Well, it would appear that I am the only one able to spare the time to see to this. Get on up. I'll lead you to the depository. There, the work will be simple enough for you to do without using that wrist too strongly."

The 'depository' was just a fancy term for 'garbage room.' Pushing the door open, Tac wrinkled his nose at the pungent stench emitting. "You will need to clean this out. The contents were emptied last night, so it just needs a good scrubbing. Beyond that door is the closet with brushes, cleansers, buckets, and water. After you finish, you may shower and be on your way." Looking back at Oz, he couldn't help another sigh. "I.. do apologize that this is the task. I would prefer you go stack dishes in the kitchen, but, as you seem well aware, the staff will have a fit and just throw away any dish you touch under suspicion of a curse. It is not a complicated task, and I will be out here when you have completed the chore." He could pull over a chair and do some paperwork while he waited... The tiniest shadow of a smirk rose as he stepped back to let Oz through. "Besides.. if I can search for you in a ditch, this will not be so bad for you, surely."

The Only Black Uke

 

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

That thing.

Ozzrick couldn’t help but squint from his position on the bed. What did these people think he was? Did he not have two legs and arms and hands and feet, five fingers and toes, two ears and eyes? Not the same absurd colors theirs were, of course, and not melting droopy eared or black, but still generally the same basic composition. He supposed he couldn’t blame them entirely, being the secluded little race they were and he having been exposed all his life to various ‘others’ such that it was no more a shock to him than the sunrise, typically.

But still. He might have hoped for a bit better reception after as long as they’d had so far to at least begin acclimating themselves to the concept that there were others in the world beyond their own little space.

“Do they not think I think?” he asked, not meaning to sound miffed but likely failing just the same as he adjusted himself over the side of the bed to follow alongside the doctor. As they came nearer to their destination, though, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what he was getting.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.

“You…” He blinked as the words sank in, and for a moment, he forgot the surrounding circumstances. “You found me there and decided to take me in?”