[ even odds whether his voice rings familiar, doesn't. riftwatch is small, and the infirmary rota smaller: there's only one male, orlesian, chain-smoker in there. but it's only there on night shift. ]
[he nearly drops his mandola in the middle of trying to tune the blasted thing.] Kaffas, [a sharp exhale while he clutches at the crystal over his chest; he's still not used to the bloody thing yet.]
[snippily--look, now he's got to retune this string all over again, that's annoying--but his bad mood burns hot and fizzles out quickly. frowning at his instrument as he resumes his work,] Why do you want to know?
['who is this' he doesn't ask, just in case he's supposed to know, and has forgotten already.]
The good Doctor lacks context which you and I consider common. I doubt him aware of the restrictions and risks which spirits may ask. Compassion would not kill these fleas, Wisdom tells that a lesson is learned more thoroughly of pain. Etcetera.
[predictably, Octavius cuts him off; his vocational pride is at stake here.]
Yes, ser, [snippy once more,] of course I'm aware of that, I'm not some ignorant--[soporatus, he almost says, thinks better of it, and finishes with,]--apprentice.
[he very nearly corrects him with my lord, then bites the inside of his cheek instead. what's he lord of without his seat in the Magisterium or his family's estate?]
The question was genuine. I've been a healer some - mn, thirty-odd years. I consider it worthwhile to know my limitations, and those of my colleagues. It's proved an issue before.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crystals;
Which spirit?
[ even odds whether his voice rings familiar, doesn't. riftwatch is small, and the infirmary rota smaller: there's only one male, orlesian, chain-smoker in there. but it's only there on night shift. ]
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I'm sorry, what?
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[ so: chop chop, answers. ]
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[snippily--look, now he's got to retune this string all over again, that's annoying--but his bad mood burns hot and fizzles out quickly. frowning at his instrument as he resumes his work,] Why do you want to know?
['who is this' he doesn't ask, just in case he's supposed to know, and has forgotten already.]
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[ terribly convenient for a vint mage to summon loyalty, isn't it? a suspicious man might wonder. ]
What demands does it place on you?
[ a why, in so many words. ]
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[wary,] Do you doubt my credentials? I answered all of the head healer's questions already.
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[ interesting leap to credentials. noted. ]
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[what a marvellous moment of cultural exchange they're having.]
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[sounds like something he'd find in one of his mother's dense, depressing Nevarran novels.]
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Your turn. Which spirit?
[he's making an assumption here.]
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[ did he mean to be a little bitch? yes. is he willing to gaslight about that? also yes. ]
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Yes, ser, [snippy once more,] of course I'm aware of that, I'm not some ignorant--[soporatus, he almost says, thinks better of it, and finishes with,]--apprentice.
You truly believe I don't do my own work?
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[ a neat correction (if we're invoking apprentices) ]
And certainly, Monsieur, I may only speak to my own craft. Do you doubt yours?
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Presently, I doubt you've got any manners.
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Did you really reach out to me just to needle me about my vocation?
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Monsieur, I asked you two questions. I do not presume to control your reaction to them.
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Is this how you introduce yourself to all your colleagues?
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Perhaps you might clarify how I've given you special offense.
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