(ic inbox)

[medicative]

text | voice | photo | action
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Emily Dyer, MD
On call: 10 am to 6 pm, Monday to Saturday
Will only take emergency calls outside of these hours.

Comments

mail/christmas gift. (12/25)

[assist]

Dear Emily,

It seems things never quite end for us survivors, doesn't it?
Despite it, I'm glad to have you here with us, your company has always a way of putting us at ease.
I hope you'll join us for dinner! The ramen shop is quite warm and filling, the four of us certainly should get together.
It isn't much, but I hope this will keep you warm during the colder weather.
Merry Christmas, may the Gods continue to smile upon you and keep you safe.

Sincerely,
Eli Clark.

[ Inside the package, Emily will find a light blue shawl that is large enough to wrap around her shoulders and cover most of her upper torso. Something to provide a little extra comfort against the chill! ]

[medicative]

[it's beautiful, and she'll take good care of it - it's quite thoughtful of him, especially in this strange place.

therefore, a message will come through to him later.]

Eli,

I can't understate my gratitude for your generosity. Wherever did you find something so lovely?
To be honest, I'd actually forgotten that we were already at Christmas. I guess that's the problem with day and night blurring their lines here. That said, I would be delighted to join you, to celebrate as best we can.
Merry Christmas.

Emily

Eternal Style Quest

[sing_for_me]

[ The kimonos were elegant, the fabrics neatly folded and displayed, the sheen of silk reflecting beneath the light. Alex was in awe of it all, not having seen such fine clothes up close before. Was there really something wrong with the shop, she wondered as she reached out to touch one of the piles cloth. But just before her fingers can graze it, the pile flings up towards her face, giggles filling the air as all of the cloth falls down onto her and the floor. ]

Ah...so that’s what’s going on.

[medicative]

Mischief and bad behavior.

[Emily's voice isn't raised, merely resigned as she bends to help collect back up the fabric. it's gorgeous - the silk feels almost too fine for her - and it hardly belongs on the floor of the shop. still, she'll flash Alex a smile.]

What do you know about handling such things?

[sing_for_me]

[ Alex returns the smile, albeit a bit shyly as she peeks from behind the curtain of silk. ]

I’m not sure if it’s the same with spirits...but usually when children behave this way...

[ There was only the proper way to go about it. ]

They need to be taught a lesson, don’t they?

text; majima@

[no_kyouken]

Got a favor t'ask.

[medicative]

When and where should I meet the patient? No need to disguise it as a favor.

[no_kyouken]

No patient yet, need help with somethin' preventative.

𝚜𝚒𝚡@𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒.𝚌𝚘

[wray]

Do you know how to alter clothes?

[medicative]

I do. I can't create anything out of whole cloth, but I can tailor fit to some degree.

[always helps to know how to fix up tears and such in clothing to make it last longer. and cloth is easier to handle than a body.]

What's the matter?

[wray]

[ she is going to judge him for this but he doesn't want to ask nishimura for the same request. ]

I received clothes from the Antique Shop owner and I would like them to have parts of it cut out from the sides or the back.

majima@hakagemachi.co

[no_kyouken]

Couple kids fell in my memories. Saw some shit kids shouldn't see.

[medicative]

I'm sorry. It's a bad enough experience when it's an adult, but I can picture a child being so much worse.

[no_kyouken]

Asked Yuya if he was alright, and he was just. Worried about me instead.

Can't stand it. I can't stand some little kid worrying about that shit.

text;

[assist]

Whenever you have the moment, are you free for me to visit, Emily?
Unless you're currently out, in which I'd appreciate if you can stop by Naib and I's apartment when you have the time.

[medicative]

I should be back at the apartments soon. I'll come by and knock when I'm there.

[assist]

Thank you, I'm sorry for the trouble.
I'll leave the door unlocked just in case I'm unable to get to the door.

probably a day or two before the june event??? text

[elbowpads]

hey

uh this might sound dumb

but how do you feel about snacks

[medicative]

In regards to them in general, I feel they are fine if eaten in moderation.

Or is this about particular snacks?

[castcancel]

[At some point after she initially gave Vikenti the medicine, after the bloody rain began and the lake started crying out, there's...a knock on her door. A rap, really, purposeful and curt.

The man who she opens her door to is Vikenti, but not. The glasses are gone, tucked into a carrying case; his eyes are golden now, ears pointed, lines tracing down his face.]

Doctor Dyer?

[medicative]

[she's about to greet him with a welcome, but the word stills in her throat as she takes over the changed appearance. it's striking, yet alterations were something she took to view as a matter of course by now.]

Vikenti?

[tentative, knowing there's an equal chance of it being him as well as it isn't. regardless, she'll aid whoever it is, but she needs to know where they stand.]

IDK WHEN after all the other stuff

[stillraining]

[It's merely coincidence that he ends up near Emily's apartment. He hasn't held vigil there for a long time, not after he--they--attacked her, but he's making his way back from the store when the ribbon holding his braid in breaks.

Normally, he'd wait, shove it back, but...Bi'an hums in the back of his mind, even with the sips of the medicine he's been drinking. He...doesn't want to silence it completely.

So he takes a seat under an overhang, freeing it and starting to comb his hair out with his fingers. His braid is a mess, really--He's never been one to maintain it much. When he was alone, it was enough to keep it out of his eyes. When they were together, Bi'an would take the task upon himself with an almost greedy eagerness, and Wujiu would let him. In the Manor, they'd take turns.

His hands are meant for fighting, repairing umbrellas, mending slippers. Hair braiding isn't quite his forte.]

[medicative]

[he's not the one she expects to find where she does, on the staircase leading up to her apartment. though they spoke, and she assumed things were fine again based on that, he hadn't been hovering there. it made sense - the items were gone, and there was no reason to stay - but it was a little strange. she'd grown used to him being there, and then he was not.

except he looks somewhat out of sorts, and it's why she stops to analyze the situation.]

...Is everything alright, Mr. Fan?

[his hair's a mess, but certainly he could have waited until he got to his own apartment...?]

Sometime mid-August

[stillraining]

[When he'd woken up, for a moment he'd thought he was back under the Nantai bridge, water around him and water inside him, filling his stomach and lungs, his heart pounding in his ears.

There's the smell of dust instead of perfume, his own foul breath instead of osmanthus, rotting leaves instead of rain and sweat and spring air. Something rests across his tongue, his eyes, his neck. His throat works, but he can hardly even pull a hoarse croak out.

As always, it's his body that moves before his mind. His arms don't feel like his own, but they move nevertheless, and he feels, vaguely, thousands of little threads snapping. He gropes for his own face, finds more over it, claws them off, not caring that he's yanking some of his own hair (loose now, and ironically more white than black).

He lets out a rough little moan, realizing that he's no longer in China, no longer anywhere he should be...but then, no, he remembers his reality. For a moment he's caught between worlds, the dreams hanging onto him like the many threads.

It happens sometimes, especially in Hakagemachi (ah, yes, that's where he is--) and he always has to--

His hands scrabble, and he blinks once, twice, looking around, clawing more of the threads out of his eyes--

where is it

Where is it?!

Where are you??

Not again, not again, he can't lose him again! He only barely has what remains now, and now, and now--

He feels like he's drowning again as he crashes around the brush, his throat still working those agitated croaks out.]

[medicative]

[the sound is what reaches her, where she's been gathering herbs, the sound of something out there, and her hand is on her mask before she knows it. to fight something whatever size it is would be unreasonable to expect in this form, and it's this or flight -

but then another sound reaches Emily, and she stills. not destruction. anguish. something that cannot be so easily outran, fought back. she straightens up from where she was, basket on her arm, and waits. the brush breaking, the figure getting closer and closer -

and when she sees who it is, it is a strange form of relief that she recognizes who it is, though spiders have woven their webs and he looks like a ghost. strange, because she has never been relieved to see him again before.]

Wujiu...

[where has he been? what happened to him? why is he here? so many questions brim up in her, and then it is blindingly clear what must happen first]

...I have the umbrella.

[because she had found it alone, and known something must have gone wrong. kept it safe, secure, protected from harm and damage. it had felt like a duty, and now she knows why.]