Clinic Duty [Open RP]

[B'rahz]

“Hey, where do you want this big one?  I think it’s glass!”  B’rahz Tia called out from behind a large crate in his arms. 

 

When he had arrived at the clinic that morning, the Seeker wasn’t sure he would be of much use.  A’tirramei had invited him, though, and he was only too happy to do what he could.  The little clinic had been ransacked recently and the owner, R’aelas, had asked that they watch over the place while he was away on other business.  B’rahz had expected that meant treating patients, but the clinic had a fair share of simple labor with which he could help.   As it was, a whole cart of fresh supplies had arrived shortly after the pair had.  While Tirramei straightened up inside and prepared for potential patients, B’rahz worked on carrying in the new items.

 

 

“Probably bottles for potions or somethin’,” he said, grunting as he resettled the crate in his arms.  “Who knew somethin’ light as glass could weigh so much.”

[Skylar Steelheart]

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"Just over there, in the right corner by the cabinets," A'tirramei called from across the room, glancing up from a bed she was making to smile at B'rahz. "Those are probably the Hi Potions Aelas ordered. Don't mix them up with the regular ones!"

 

The clinic was slowly returning to its cozy, clean, organized state. The Saint's Shroud it was called, a modest one-story building along the coast in Cedarwood. Recently established by Raelas Sturmwind, the clinic had had a fruitful but short run before being vandalized by less than savory individuals. The whole tale was not clear, and Raelas himself was reluctant to elaborate before he had taken off in a hurry. Now A'tirramei was the resident healer until he returned, but there was still a bit of work to do before it was ready to open. Maybe tomorrow.

 

The clinic was divided into equal thirds, marked by large wooden dividers. The left-most third resembled an inn, with cozy beds draped in crisp linen sheets, warm blankets and a fluffy pillow to each. The middle third housed bookshelves and drawers, crammed with literary medical and healing texts, as well as sterilized tools and portable tables. The larger drawers, most of which contained patient files, were locked. The right third of the room housed a kitchen A'tirramei was most envious of, though it was currently empty of fresh food.

 

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A'tirramei frowned, pacing to the center of the one-roomed clinic. It was not an arrangement she liked. The beds did not have enough privacy. The medicine shelves were too far away, and there should really be a few more chairs. She mumbled to herself, taking mental notes of each discrepancy. Maybe Rahz could help with that, too.

[B'rahz]

B'rahz set the crate down where she had instructed, wiping his brow after.  "Whew.  That should be the last for now."  He tugged the crate open and pulled one of the bottles out.  Green.  She was right, of course.  "Yep.  Hi-potions, each one of 'em.  Do you want 'em on the shelves, or just keep 'em in the crate?"  

 

The dark haired Mi'qote smiled over at his companion, genuinely happy with the work.  For a long minute, he just watched her as she paced and inspected the place.  He could already see she'd have changes in mind.  "What needs moved next?  You're eyein' those beds; are we rearrangin'?"

 

He stretched, walking leisurely across the little clinic, when he heard shouting from outside.  Something was causing alarm in the courtyard below.  "What in-"  B'rahz frowned, moving toward the door.