quietplacelogs | Dr. Santa Claus, MD

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Dr. Santa Claus, MD

Featuring: Akechi Goro, Noël Christenbell
What's happening: Noël comes to take a look at Akira's clinic and see what he can do to help; Akechi catches him "delivering presents" the way so many little kids dream they could.
What day: February 28th
CW: None yet!

[It's early evening when Noël arrives at the clinic, with a roughly stitched cross-body tote bag made out of a curtain slung over his shoulder. He takes a moment to paint the hinges with fresh oil, then moves on to a window, peering inside. He doesn't see anyone from where he's standing.....

Well, that's not too surprising; Akira is probably still in bed recovering. Noël pulls out his device, still framed by the window as he starts searching for his screen name. As long as he can message the guy to let him in so he can look around, it doesn't matter if Akira goes right back to bed after.]

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[Ah, he already knows Akira... though that's hardly surprising. Akira seems to know everyone in this little town, pretty much.]

Ingredients, as well? Is there a limit to what you can create?

[Akira wouldn't have hired him unless they knew each other at least a little, right? .....Right? ~~Please have some sense of self-preservation, Akira.~~

Either way, he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. Ingredients are easy; it's other things that are tough.]

It's not like I'm a god or anything, I can't create life. And I've tried making magical things before, but I've never had any luck. If it's not just impossible, then either I don't know how, or I'm just not strong enough.

[In other words, no, Santa can't bring you a pony, no matter how good you've been. He can't make you a magical girl, either. B|bb On the other hand, his other limitation is probably the most damning one, practically speaking.]

Of course, if I don't know anything about what I'm trying to give you, odds are pretty good I'll muff it up somehow too. I've never seen or heard of a lot of the medicine in here, and I don't know what it does or how it's made. I probably couldn't make any of that unless I was able to study up on it.

[Akira has been loopy as hell since he came back from death, so honestly, Akechi wouldn't be surprised.

Akechi listens carefully, before his eyes draw to the jug on the floor.]

So then what is this, exactly?

That's called laudanum. It's mainly a tincture of opium in alcohol, a bit of a cure all. It's good for things like pains, coughing, diarrhea, and insomnia.

[Enjoy your ~~drugs~~ fucked up archaic medicine?]

You know, I'm really not sure what to make of the fact that I just watched Santa create alcohol out of thin air.

[Nor that he would... ever write or say those words? What is his life rn.]

What's the problem? It's medicinal. Besides, you don't drink much of it--it's powerful stuff. You measure it out by the drop.

Not a problem. Just unexpected.

Many who consume alcohol don't exactly do things befitting of good boys and girls, after all.

[...heh. Himself included, though he never did anything truly awful as a result of alcohol. He's not certain if that makes it better or worse.]

What year do you come from?

[Using alcohol as a cure-all definitely doesn't sound modern.]

Their behavior is their business and their problem, isn't it? They're the ones who have to deal with the headache when they wake up the next day, after all.

[Sobriety is a virtue, sure, but that doesn't make alcohol itself evil, no matter what some out-there teetotalers think. What else are people going to drink in the city, after all? Water? Now that's a laugh; nobody wants to puke or shit their guts out. The key is just to be reasonable and keep in mind just how much you're drinking, and you'll be fine.

Either way, he shrugs, looking thoughtful for a moment. What year is it, again.....? It can be a little hard to remember, sometimes. Everything blurs together when you're as cut off from the world as the North Pole is.]

It's 1873. Why?

[He does look a little curious when it actually seems to take him a moment to remember, but then he gets his answer. Ah.]

That explains it. Kurusu and I are from the year 20XX.

[Except "XX" is substituted by some numbers, i guess, which are less than 18.]

We've particular medications made just for pain relief, anxiety, etc.

[20XX? That's well over a century later; perhaps it's no wonder Noël looks so bewildered. It's hard to even fathom what the world must be like so far in the future, especially given the incredible pace developments are being made, even in his present day.]

Medical science must have advanced quite a lot.

Indeed.

[He tilts his head a little at the jug.]

Perhaps he can still find a use for this, though, given that you tell him as much as you can about it.

Medicine is medicine, and it seems like it's in low supply around here. Even if it's not as advanced as you're used to, it'll be better than nothing as long as Akira handles it properly.

[Especially considering they're in a situation where having a cough could literally be fatal. In a place like this, they can't afford to take even mild symptoms lightly.]

Very true. Your abilities will be exceptionally helpful around here.

And there are children here who might like to meet you. Though the one I've spoken to in particular would probably be skeptical of your existence.

[Akechi... well. He believes because he wants to. There isn't really any harm that comes from believing even if he's wrong, right? It's not as though this guy is trying to use the well-known figure to his advantage, or trying to use it to gain free favors, from what he can see.

Well... he realizes that thinking is a bit naive. But for now, cautiously, he'll accept his story.]

Edited 2018-04-14 06:12 (UTC)

I wouldn't be surprised if all of them are skeptical, honestly. Adults lie about us all the time. At any rate, they can believe whatever they want, whether they meet me or not. It doesn't change the truth.

[By now, he's jaded as fuck, to be honest. Can you tell he's used to having his existence defined and denied without consent at people's leisure?]

You know, for being Santa, I can't help but feel like you embody the jolly spirit of Christmas very much.

[just. an observation.]

Now you're sounding like Rudolph. Just because the kids are supposed to be cheerful doesn't mean I have to do it too. I don't need to be some grinning idiot just to do my job.

Some of the magic may be lost on the children if you're scowling at them.

Probably. But even more of it would be if I acted insincere; most kids can spot that sort of thing a mile away.

Not a dream job then, I take it?

[He could laugh, if he even had the heart to. A dream job, huh? Having some stranger's power choose and inhabit you without your consent, and force you to uproot your life and throw it away in exchange for a destiny you never asked for--as an unpaid, unacknowledged, not even believed in soldier in a war that never ends, one that nobody even realizes exists. A war against horrible, disturbing monsters almost designed to shake people to the very core, whose hearts know no mercy and whose numbers never cease to grow.

Someday, possibly some day very soon, he's going to die for the sake of a total stranger who denies his very existence. He's going to die like a dog, either abruptly, or a slow, lingering, agonizing death, helpless to save himself or the people around him. He's going to die after watching one of the only friends he has left in the world throw his life away for his sake, because that's his duty--and it's all going to be futile, because if he and Rudolph die, whatever godforsaken kid they wasted their lives on is unquestionably going to die, too.

He could laugh, or cry, or scream. He doesn't do any of them. He responds instead, perhaps a little cold, certainly more than a little distant.]

It could be better. But it could be worse, too. At least it's a living.

[...hm... there's definitely something going on there, but he gets the sense he shouldn't press it. So he relents.]

I see. At least here you have more freedom to do what you please.

Such as it is anyway. Considering the circumstances, nobody here really seems very free.

[What kind of freedom is it, really, where people live their lives cringing and cowering in fear, afraid to even breathe too deeply? A life where tripping and falling even once could be the first and last mistake you ever make, before you're even old enough to realize what you've done?]

You'd be surprised. To some, this is a haven compared to what their previous lives were like.

[He's talking about a friend. Obviously. Heeeee's just looking over here to... put the supplies Noel had made in a particular spot!]

Edited 2018-04-30 03:54 (UTC)

I suppose so.

[He's thoughtful at that, at least. Would he and Charles have been happier in Reims? And Pierre? There's so much danger here..... but they wouldn't have had to steal for a living, either. Even Charles might have been able to find some kind of work he could do, even with just the one arm.....]

I don't blame you if you find that difficult to believe.

[What could be worse than living in fear and under the constant threat of death? Heh... and yet his life was exactly like that, except he was forced to kill as well.]

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saltysanta - 2018-05-06 19:23 (UTC) - Expand

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