RP:Just Gimme the Medicine
Summary: Irenic is just looking to buy some medicine, but takes Sabrina instead.
House of Ara; Rebuilt
The primary floor of the House of Ara was completely demolished so a newer, larger, and sturdier floorplan could take its place. Upon entering the building through heavy double doors, you will find yourself standing on oceanic-blue marble floors. The walls are white, backlit by mahogany trim. There is a receptionist desk, manned by a small Elvish girl with stark white hair and very pale skin named Mei. She will be able to direct you to the lavish patient rooms that are located up twisting staircase, the kitchens down the North corridor, the surgical facilities to the east or the teaching clinic to the west. The ceilings are high and the acoustics pick up the click-clack of your heels as you make your way to Mei. The Guild Tutor, Mr.Fennigan would be more than happy to serve as your escort, or fetch a wheelchair and a medic should there be cause for one.
Irenic was waiting to be assisted by someone anyone and it seems Mei is quite irritated with the Avian and his odd secrecy. A nervous habit of his tattooed hand running through his dusky brown hair. He glanced over his shoulder and around his wings, wait they aren't there anymore, way to sour your own mood even more, but no one was paying the pair any mind. He attempts a charming smile exposing crowded but white teeth, “look… Mei was it? I've told you the symptoms and you mentioned the remedy. I have the gold to pay for the quantity I need, but why can't I have that many?” He was doing everything to try and keep that gruff tone to something a bit warmer, a bit more trusting. A black boot was tapping quietly, but impatiently as the woman is explaining that even though he's an Avian he doesn't need that many. “I understand this…” he rubbed at his temples as he was getting a headache now.
Sabrina enters Ara as she always did, like she owned the place; kicking off her muddied boots at the door whilst strategically fumbling with some paperwork and only barely keeping them in her hands. The small elvish curse echoes across the large hollow void of the new and improved House of Ara. Mei, of course, giggles behind the irritation of a secretive bird and Mr. Fennigan clears his throat to imply there were others present. Finn is standing off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest to see how Mei handles the situation. “Is there a prob-“ Finn’s hand to her chest is moved silently to place a single digit to his mouth, this only made the Healer frown at the injustice. But she complied. With both hands hugging the mess of records to her chest she blows a stubborn strand from her face with a roll of her eyes and a single-shoulder shrug as if it were no big deal. Honestly, the halfbreed had some nerve to shush her like that. Few would get away with it, let alone with compliance.
Irenic glances to see Sabrina when she wasn't looking and under his breath he curses as well, “merde.” He did not need this attention right now and he leaned over the the desk just slightly while sort of slumping in attempts to make his near seven foot self smaller. The hand at his temple sort of tries to hide his visage while he lowered that throaty timbre even more, “I understand, Mei. I have the gold. You guys don't like gold?” He reached into his pocket which might give a start, but only a pouch of gold coins placed between him and Mei. “Just tell me how much I would need if I were about yay tall.” He motions to how tall a child would be, “and eons younger.” This part was said in almost a whisper as he was fully being sunken into embarrassment now. He's not supposed to be seen like this and he read from his chicken scratch writing through narrow spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose from a stack of small parchment, like a pocketbook. “I need at least four of these medicines.”
Sabrina squints her eyes at Mei, though it would be difficult to see beyond the Avian no matter how shrinky he got. The prodigy’s eyes fall to the gold, then travel back up to Irenic with pursed lips and a huff. The gold is then shoved back in his direction- favoritism and privilege allows the youngling to be a little less likely to be bought, especially for whatever amount might fit in a single pocket. Sabrina whispers to Finn “What is the meaning of the gift?” He would then turn to her, the beginnings of a detailed explanation between a gift and a bribe, but instead he shakes his head. “It’s like feeding chickens to Ro.” Her mouth falls open on an ah-ha epiphany and she nods, still watching. “I take it he does not realize that gold means nothing to her?” Apparently, it had nothing to do with the girl’s integrity, so far as Mei was concerned gold grew on trees and she had everything she wanted. Mei begins listing off variables concerning the patient in question but it appeared to be falling on deaf ears. Irenic needed what he needed and the silverhaired elf-snob was not going to give it to him.
Irenic sighs while flipping his pocket book closed and slipping his glasses off. Yeah, yeah he can just go around saying ‘sick orphan children need this!’ But he's too stubborn to give any information like that away especially when he's got a few enemies and he doesn't want to inadvertently bring trouble around the orphanage. Slipping his chicken scratch back into his back pocket and standing the full six eleven height. He fakes a cough into his elbow, but it's rather convincing, “fine… I’ll just take one for myself and postpone my trip.” Mei probably thought that was an odd thing to say and made a confused face, “-that- is why I needed so many because I won't be around.” A good lie and really only one person in the room could probably tell. “So, here… One prescription please,” there was an irritation in his voice when he laid enough gold for just the one bottle of medicine. “How much am I to take and how often again.” Mei starts to scribble instructions for a hundred and forty something Avian to administer his own dosage. He squints the one silver seeing eye in order to read it, but had to put his glasses back on in order to do so.
Sabrina is amused at the action she is forced to watch by the grace of an overbearing guardian; Finn. She takes steps toward the pair full well knowing that Irenic was not exhibiting any real sickness despite his performance. Mei hops off her chair, with feet flat on the ground baby-pink Maryjane’s take her to the back room to fetch a mathematically precise dosage for an old guy who has to put on specks to read her formal equations. The stacks of papers are pressed to the mahogany countertop with an elbow to prop the elfess head as she peers way up at him. “Quite the cough you have there.” A grin. As soon as the girl comes back and the bottle is placed on the counter Sabrina places her hand over the top of it to hold it in place. “You know, mixed… the solutions is only good for a day at best. You should take it now.” Her grin is unyielding. “Otherwise, you might ask for a little bit of vinegar, maybe stop and buy a bushel of apples. Peppermint extract, ether of vigor…” She points to the paper he is holding in his hand. “You should be writing this down.” A beat. “ Citrus, honey, gingerroot…” But what she wasn’t giving him, was isotopes. “Shall I continue?”
Irenic smirks, “yeah it's awful. I've got a fever and even some nasty boils.” -That- he wasn't afraid to say, but still he's lying. She's calling his bluff now when he also reached for ‘his’ medicine and their hands touch gloved or not. Again under his breath, “merde,” while he thinks quickly, “you know…” a hand running over the top of his hair again as a subtle chuckle emits from him, “I was going to cozy on up at my place with some tea and take this.” He had planned of having to come back every day to get a bottle and take it back to the orphanage one at a time. His brow furrowed in confusion at her rambling, but caught on eventually and pulled out the paper before stealing Mei’s quill from behind the counter with his left hand in order to jot down abbreviations of what she's saying. A glance around after shoving the glasses up the bridge of his nose and his voice lowers, “uhm…” Another glance at Mei and how he wished so many people weren't around just now before the words come as a mumble through clenched teeth, “how much would I administer to a human adolescent, child and an orc toddler?” The mismatched eyes bare down on her in hopes of her discretion.
Sabrina ’s head kicks back. “An Orc…” Her eyes shift to Mei, a short inclination of her head and the girl wanders off once more to bring back a milk-bottle sized vessel of black-green sludge. “Orc’s don’t usually fall ill to the same symptoms a human child would- if you give a toddler honey it will likely dehydrate from vomit and explosive diarrhea. Do you have that too?” She was messing with him now. Besides, what he was asking for did not exactly require controlled substances. “Xalious tree sap, for the boils though. On both accounts.” She shifts, finally letting go of the bottle to lean her back against the counter. “Tea. They are mostly herbs and the body will take what it needs and expel the rest through urine.”
Irenic paused in her response, “no, I don't.” It's obvious now he jotted down symptoms that belong to a sickness that has taken over a ward of the orphanage he frequents. He glanced off to nothing at all that caught his eye, but it looked like he instantly regretted it. He definitely can not be dealing with that and this right now, but he ignores the spirit now berating him and presses on, “what would cause a rash that is sort of green where the dots are supposed to be red?” This sounded a bit more serious than just some bad cold that Mei was suspecting it was. He was flipping through the booklet again, “yeah, little green itchy dots. Fever, wet cough and a few boils.” Again looking down at her with a certain look that hopes this can remain between them and being so close to the Avian her favorite scent gravitates to her. Irenic obviously has no idea what he's doing even though his intentions are good, seems to be his only good intention.
Sabrina arches a thin dark brow and her eyes follow to a blank spot of nothing, over there somewhere. What Mei was giving him medicine for was not going to fix green dots. “I… uh… would have to see the dots.” Splotches? Or actual dots, raised or just discolored. There were too many variables but her concentration was interrupted with a tiny little ‘ahem’ that bounced up once to reclaim the high seat behind the counter. The stack of papers was pushed towards the girl. Her Sylvan tongue executing orders in a serious note. “Make sure the pink sheets get filed under the Skjoldet books, carefully. It took weeks to separate them last time.” Mei chimes in, in formal elvish response, of course. “If you had only let me do them in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.” Sabrina is silent, the short exchange answered only by a few indecipherable mumbles as the tiny Elfess gathers the series of multicolored items and leaves the room disgruntled. The Healer takes a deep breath and returns to Irenic. “Do you want me to go with you?” She had about a million other things to do, but Irenic was being Irenic and pulling information from him was like torture to the mind and these symptoms, combined with the still forming bodies of child-things brought the order of importance way up on the list.
Irenic was scowling at Mei, which was probably going unnoticed, because she seems so rude. What a little see you next Tuesday. He is dying to get the eff out of here, so much so that her offer to go with him was answered immediately, “yes-wait…” his mismatched eyes peer down at her from behind narrow spectacles while looking her up and down. He seems to be having some sort of internal struggle while the silence between them grew. “Are you going to be able to keep up with those tiny legs?” With this he pushed the exit door open and went outside, but as soon as she follows and they were alone outside he would round on her until they were close, towering her, but only to keep his voice low. “Look. I don't know you that well, but for some reason or another I'm trusting you with information that I do not willingly give out. Where we are about to go they don't know me as Irenic, the crooked knight, womanizer type who was raised from near death and slave to Dragana. They know me as a reliable guy named Edlin… Do you get where I'm going with this? I don't want anyone knowing I frequent this place lest them come to harm…” if she agreed to such terms he would lead on while uncaring to shorten his stride for her short little legs because they were in a hurry if they were going to make it to Gualon before sundown. While walking along he would finally take those horrendous glasses off and put them away before taking out a thin cigarette case. All the while mumbling something about, “I phuqing hate walking.”
Sabrina stood, looking up at him while he engaged in some internal turmoil. Arms cross over her chest, wondering if she lost him for good. When he finally broke the silence with that rather rude query, her mouth drops open, insulted. Before she could think of a snarky response he was gone. In a huff she grabs her coat and trails after him. Again, she is ready to retort but he comes about and leans over in a fashion that causes her to lean back in equal measure. All brewing insults were lost. "You know me better than you think." And the coat is pulled up over her exposed arm and pulled snug around her form. It wasn't that she felt she would grow cold, the coat served more as a go-bag in times of crazy Avian rushes out the door, or something like that. "And you should know by now my purpose is to help, not entrap. I am not Larketian guard you know." Her tone set the mood that maybe she was offended that he would entertain the idea of her using information as some bargaining chip. With this sort-of agreement to his terms he was off again. An exaggerated exhale has her falling in tow -again- Oh how she hated his creepy long legs that nearly tripled her stride. "That is bad for you, Phil." Or Edlin, whatever, he changed enough it did not matter to her. She snatches the cigarette from his grip, and presumptively hands him an alternative smokable. A laugh. "Maybe all this walking will help fill you out. You are still a growing boy."