The Great Game ((Jamie, OPEN!))

[Lyrielle]

((Yes, I will totally continue using titles of Sherlock Holmes episodes. ;D ))

What was it? Or rather, where is it? The cure that had eluded him for so long?

”Oh it's out there, I haven't a shred of a doubt.” Doctor Azryel rubbed his darkened eyes, his brow creasing in discomfort as he caught sight of his reflection in a nearby window pane. Bahhh. He needed more sleep... But what was the point of sleeping if he was going to have the same dream over and over again? Well, he could always add a little something to his water, that could send him into a dreamless kind of slumber...but that would be abusing medical supplies. Then again, how much was that honestly going to weigh on his conscience?
For someone who's robbed graves for a small part of his life, not very much.

Glancing to the medical bag at his feet, Azryel reached in, bypassing all of the numerous instruments and vials until he found the one he was looking for – the one labeled Adder Venom, the one with the red label. I will solve you, even if it's the last thing I ever do. Right Miles? You were never one for quitting... A ghost of a smile flickered across his gaunt face, his hollow eyes filled with something other than emptiness for just a few short seconds – before the arrival of a potential patient snapped him out of it. Putting the vial back into his bag, Azryel rolled up his sleeves, standing to meet the sickly looking hare with scrutinizing eyes. ”Well?” He asked tersely, the cadet sneezing even as he spoke. ”Well wot? I'm sick, can't you see?” The cadet sounded extremely congested, and obviously had a cold of some sort – but even as obvious as the symptoms were, Azryel's eyes still rolled. ”Describe to me what's wrong, unless you'd rather I look for myself—“
Black cut himself off when the cadet started swaying precariously; reaching out, he steadied the young buck by holding onto his arm, tilting his chin up with a free paw. ”Open your mouth.”

The cadet, burning from a fever, did as he was told, his eyes glazed over, nose running. Azryel's nose wrinkled instantly as a bad smell hit him, but it certainly wasn't the worst thing in the world, his gray eyes narrowing in on a swollen part of the hare's throat. ”You have tonsillitis; while actually giving you medicine won't really be necessary, these things usually clear up in a few weeks, but herbal teas, and gargling salthingyer will help your throat. Fortunately, we live next door to an ocean, and have a decent amount of cooks, so either remedies won't be difficult to find. If you have any stomach pain, headaches, or your fever returns, then come back and someone will give you something for the pain.”

Azryel, still holding up the cadet, beckoned another nurse over with a quick wave of the paw. ”This cadet has tonsillitis, get his fever down, get him some mouthwash, and make sure he stays hydrated.” Why that idiot let it get so severe, I'll never know. You'd think that once he started to see raw, bloody patches on his tonsils, he'd come in sooner. Or the stomach pain. Or, you know, the fever. Oh well, it wasn't worth any more thinking. Not about to stand around waiting for the next fool to come wandering in, Doctor Black took a seat by his bag again, but this time he took out a notebook and a quill, gray eyes squinting as they got used to the glare on the paper from the window just behind him.

It was almost guaranteed that this was going to be a boring day. Now if only someone would come in with half their arm missing or a broken bone, or better yet an allegedly 'incurable disease'... Wouldn't that be fun? An outbreak of the Black Plague? Or maybe some kind of mutated version of scurvy?
Sigh. One could only dream.

[Tracy]

Jamie was in a good mood. He was finally getting back into some kind of normal routine; he was eating full meals in the messhall, socializing with his comrades, even getting some exercise. Oh, and he had a smart, feisty, beautiful sweetheart.

Earlier that day, Jamie had had a tough round of physical therapy, and was positively reveling in the dull ache of accomplishment. Lunch was over now and the young lieutenant was off on an errand; ostensibly for his little sister, but he would find any reason right now to swing by the infirmary. It was funny, he mused, how he used to avoid the place at all costs, and now was just making up excuses to walk in.

Taking nearby stairs two at a time, he made his way over to the infirmary, and walked right in like it was his own room. Given the amount of time he'd spent there on the mend, it rather felt like his own room. At least it felt more welcoming than it had in the past. However, stepping in, he was confronted with a different healer hare. Well… Jamie didn't really consider Azryel a healer. Black was more of a… fixer. Like a carpenter fixes furniture. Like a smith fixes weapons. Azryel fixed beasts. Roseleaf healed them.

Losing a little momentum at the sight of the hare, he cast his gaze around, not seeing who he was looking for. This was the first time Jamie was seeing Azryel since the doctor had returned to Salamandastron, but Jamie still didn't much feel like greeting him. The morbid creature would probably just give him some lecture on the pointlessness of niceties. Instead, he strode across the main room, "Is Roseleaf here?" he asked, as he went down the corridor, peeking his head around a few doorways before making his way back out to the main room.

He walked behind a counter and started going through some cabinets as if he owned the place. Not seeming to find what he was looking for, he walked around the counter and took up a pitcher of water, grabbed two cups from a stack and poured water into both. He walked over to the miserable-looking cadet sitting nearby, handing him one of the cups. "Afternoon Landon. I saw y'down on the parade grounds the other day. You've a mean right hook."

The cadet took the cup of water gratefully. He took a sip, smiling over the rim of the cup. "Thanks sah."

Jamie nodded, hopping up to sit on a nearby counter. Might as well wait here for Roseleaf. She had to be back soon.

[Stryker]

Instead, he strode across the main room, "Is Roseleaf here?" he asked, as he went down the corridor, peeking his head around a few doorways before making his way back out to the main room.

The doctor looked up from his notebook, quill paused mid-scribble against the parchment, gray eyes recognizing the features of the Lieutenant that had been attacked by Cannibal Lizards. He didn't even bother answering, considering Jameson didn't bother stopping to hear it. Instead, the haughty little blighter walked around like it was the Mess Hall or the Library, as though it were open to anyone who fancied themselves a cool drink of water or a nice place to sit. Azryel's eyes narrowed. Why would he be looking for Roseleaf? And why in Hell's name was he sitting on a countertop when there were perfectly good chairs nearby?!
Fool.

Not intending to hold his silence, Azryel's brusque voice cut through the air like a knife, somehow shortening the space between himself and Jameson as though the terse, clipped manner in which Azryel spoke was for the Lieutenant and the Lieutenant alone. "You're not bleeding, you're not coughing, and you're not about to throw up -- so riddle me this, Lieutenant. What are you doing here, besides looking for Ms. Wavebob -- who is obviously occupied with something else where. Why are you sitting on that countertop? Do you think the nurses clean it so you can stick your rear on it? I realize you've spent a great deal of time here recovering, but in that time frame, Lieutenant, the infirmary has not changed. It has not become your living room or your bedroom, so kindly refrain from treating it like it has."

The nerve of youngsters these days.

Azryel removed his gaze from Lieutenant Sersea, his focus brought back to the notebook he had been writing in, a collection of complicated notes as well as exceptionally detailed drawings organized neatly across each page.

[Tracy]

"You're not bleeding, you're not coughing, and you're not about to throw up -- so riddle me this, Lieutenant. What are you doing here, besides looking for Ms. Wavebob -- who is obviously occupied with something else where. Why are you sitting on that countertop? Do you think the nurses clean it so you can stick your rear on it? I realize you've spent a great deal of time here recovering, but in that time frame, Lieutenant, the infirmary has not changed. It has not become your living room or your bedroom, so kindly refrain from treating it like it has."

From his perch on the countertop, Jamie's long ears perked. He turned half-heartedly, letting the doctor talk himself out. The soldier didn't recall the doctor being so longwinded, but perhaps he had to make up for what he could only assume was months of solitude until now.

"Oh, hullo Doc," Jamie said with a smile. "Didn't see y'there. Long time no see, wot brings y'back? Oh right right, the weather's coolin' down, so you're back for a warm place t'sleep, eh? Nice of us t'keep takin' you in, wot." He kept his tone light and amiable, like friendly banter, but the jolliness didn't quite meet his eyes.

"What am I doin' here? Well, my little sister – y'know that sweet little Keely – she lost a book o' hers, and she thinks she may've left it in here last week, so I've come to jolly well fetch it back for her. Some literature on Mossflower history or some such. Did y'know," he started, pulling up a tidbit he'd heard from Keely that morning just because he knew the doctor would hate it. "That a Redwall Abbess ordered a church to be burned down t'keep vermin from shelterin' in it? Pretty ironic if y'ask me…"

Jamie downed the rest of the water in his cup in a gulp, and just to torture the other hare some more, casually poured himself a second up. "Oh, I'm sure Roseleaf's busy with somethin' or other, but she'll be back before too long so I may as well wait for her here, eh? That why I won't miss her. Logical enough, I think."

[Stryker]

"Oh, hullo Doc," Jamie said with a smile. "Didn't see y'there. Long time no see, wot brings y'back? Oh right right, the weather's coolin' down, so you're back for a warm place t'sleep, eh? Nice of us t'keep takin' you in, wot." He kept his tone light and amiable, like friendly banter, but the jolliness didn't quite meet his eyes.

Oh yes, yet another creature put on this earth for the sole purpose of annoying him half to death. Frankly, Azryel wouldn't be surprised if that one Corporal - Fuzzy Lizard, or something -- turned out exactly like the Lieutenant chatting him up like they'd been friends for so long. Obnoxious. Impudent. The comment about them 'taking him in' didn't even need an answer. The less anybeast knew about his home in Mossflower, the better. If Lieutenant Sersea wanted to view him as some sort of misfortunate charity case whom Salamandastron was being so kind as to let him stay, then fine. If the Lieutenant wanted to assume things about him, when was he one to care?

"What am I doin' here? Well, my little sister – y'know that sweet little Keely – she lost a book o' hers, and she thinks she may've left it in here last week, so I've come to jolly well fetch it back for her. Some literature on Mossflower history or some such. Did y'know," he started, pulling up a tidbit he'd heard from Keely that morning just because he knew the doctor would hate it. "That a Redwall Abbess ordered a church to be burned down t'keep vermin from shelterin' in it? Pretty ironic if y'ask me…"

Azryel turned the page in his notebook. "What's this book look like?" He inquired, fixing Jameson with an empty expression, his face void of all emotion. It seemed the doctor had suddenly developed...selective hearing. At the comment about Roseleaf, however, and how he didn't want to miss her completely, Azryel's brain finally had the synapses connect correctly.
1) Jameson was not injured. He wasn't here for a check up.
2) He'd just tried to feed him some lousy story about a book his sister -- whatshername -- had left in here, but was making absolutely no effort to look for it.
3) His only interest, for the past 5 minutes, was the whereabouts of Roseleaf, and he was apparently quite determined not to miss her.

Oh Hell's Teeth. He was not in the mood for this.

[Tracy]

Jamie watched Azryel from the corner of his eye, a small smile hovering around his lips. The doctor hardly reacted to a single word he'd said, but Jamie knew he'd heard everything, He felt like he could almost hear the insults rushing through the other lieutenant's head even as he remained obstinately silent.

"What's this book look like?"

That was the one part of Jamie's dithering that Azryel fixated on? Well, it was probably just because he thought, were the book found, Jamie would finally leave. Except he wouldn't, but the doctor could hardly know that. "It's a tattered lookin' thing really, brown cover with peeling yellow letters that just say 'Mossflower.' I think it had more on the cover once but-" he shrugged. "It's actually rather small, about yay big," he went on, indicating the dimensions of a smallish book with his hands. Jamie's response sounded sincere enough at least. His sister really did think she'd left her book in here, but that certainly wasn't the hare's primary reason for stopping by.

A thought occurred. Where was that little mousemaid Roseleaf had taken on? Maybe she was wherever Roseleaf had gotten off to. He thought back to how shy she'd been, quiet and stuttering. How on earth had she handled Doctor Dismal over here? Considering a moment, Jamie returned his attention to Azryel, thinking maybe he could find out secondarily through the other hare – although, really, he should know better than to try, right?

"So," he started casually, sliding down off the counter now. "Have y'met that new mouse lass who's taken work here?" Jamie walked around to a bed in the room, idly straightening up the mussed covers.

[Stryker]

"It's a tattered lookin' thing really, brown cover with peeling yellow letters that just say 'Mossflower.' I think it had more on the cover once but-" he shrugged. "It's actually rather small, about yay big," he went on, indicating the dimensions of a smallish book with his hands.

"If you know what it looks like, then why aren't you looking for it? -- Or do you need Ms. Wavebob to help you with that too?" Added Azryel, fixing Jameson with a cold stare, as if those soulless gray eyes of his were trying to understand why the simplest solution to the Lieutenant's problem didn't seem to be getting to him. Jamie had lost a book. He knows what the book looks like, why can't he get off his scut and look for it?
Because he's obviously here for something other than the book. When Jameson directed the conversation to the subject of Victiore Fawn, Azryel nearly snapped his quill in half, but forced himself to play it off coolly, as though he truly and honestly did not care.
"Yes I have."
Replied Azryel, not wanting to discuss her anymore. It would probably be better for his nerves if she packed her things and left by tomorrow morning... One slip-up, one instance where she got in his way, and he wasn't going to react with kindness and forgiveness. He was going to react like a jackal who's had some poor unfortunate beast stand in the way of him and his food. "She's treating the badger's pet salamander." Hoping this added tidbit of information would be all that Jamie needed, Azryel, after rubbing his tired eyes with a paw, the introverted doctor readjusted the notebook in his lap -- attention shooting up for an instant the moment he saw another poor soul walk through the door.

"What do you need?"

"Stomache ache, scoffed a bit too much, y'see."
The haremaid did look a tad green around the gills. Azryel gestured to the bed Jamie had just made, calling out to the Lieutenant even as he did so. "Since Lieutenant Sersea is so good at it, he'll bring you a glass of water. Lie down until the worst of it passes, then I advise you to walk around the parade grounds a few times."

The haremaid, misinterpreting his words, looked shocked and insulted. Baring her teeth at him, she growled to the gaunt-faced doctor; "Are you callin' me fat, you famish-faced--"

"-- it helps with digestion." said Black, his attention back on his notebook. The haremaid looked taken aback. "Oh..I...didn't mean what I said aboutcha bein' famished-faced, I--"

"Just lie down, too much noise can disrupt the patients."

And my sanity.
It was bad enough Sersea was a talker. He honestly didn't need some chatty haremaid thinking it all well and fine to start striking up a conversation...

Oh how he hated this mountain.

(( xD This is basically his entire day. He doodles in that notebook, treats whoever comes in, and goes for a walk whenever he has time.))

[Tracy]

"If you know what it looks like, then why aren't you looking for it? -- Or do you need Ms. Wavebob to help with you that too?"

Jamie smiled. "I'm in no hurry. I'm not back t'training yet." He actually had a quick, brief pang at that. The hare soldier hadn't even wielded his saber in several months; he was hoping to have it have it back in his paws within the week though. But even then, he certainly wouldn't be training any cadets for awhile. Honestly, he didn't really know what most beasts did with so much free time. Jamie was used to barely having the time to fit sleep into his schedule.

"She's treating the badger's pet salamander."

That didn’t really give Jamie the information he sought. But then again, was what he really looking for out of Azryel? He couldn't rightly ask the doctor 'Say, do you plan on running off the mouse? Because I might have to run you off.' The hare he'd given the cup of water to was being shepherded away now by the nurse attending to him, and as she young cadet passed by, he handed Jamie the empty cup. He walked by over to the counter with the cup. "Well, I'm sure she's handlin' the newt admirably." Jamie hoped so, so the mouse would keep the badger on her side.

Jamie turned when Azryel looked past him to the door as another patient walked in. He looked strangely as the doctor diagnosed and outlined her treatment with just a brief glance.

"Just lie down, too much noise can disrupt the patients."

"I – oh – um, okay," the haremaid stuttered, a bit dumbfounded after accidentally insulting the doctor after he helped her. She made no immediate move to the indicated bed, still seeming to process the situation. Jamie quickly rounded over to help her. Laying paws on her shoulders, he gently steered her toward the bed.

"Afternoon, Ferra," he said in a friendly, chipper voice. "Y'didn't have any o' that pea soup, did ya? It looked a tad suspect t'me."

"Oh, I don't- I didn't- I think-" The haremaid seemed to have lost her tongue as she sat herself on the bed. Jamie saved her having to answer by handing her the ordered cup of water. Ferra took a slow sip, which seemed to calm her down, and also embolden her. She glanced back up to Jamie. "You still stuck in here Lieutenant? You look nice- I mean good- You look better!" she finally settled, blushing furiously and hiding her face behind the cup.

Jamie pretended not to notice, turning away. "Oh I'm out o' here now, gettin' back into things slowly," he replied.

"So y'know where Victiore is off to, d'ya know where Roseleaf is then?" he asked over to Azryel, who'd buried his face in his work again. What was in that notebook that was so enthralling, anyway?

[Stryker]

"Oh, I don't- I didn't- I think-" The haremaid seemed to have lost her tongue as she sat herself on the bed. Jamie saved her having to answer by handing her the ordered cup of water. Ferra took a slow sip, which seemed to calm her down, and also embolden her. She glanced back up to Jamie. "You still stuck in here Lieutenant? You look nice- I mean good- You look better!" she finally settled, blushing furiously and hiding her face behind the cup.

Azryel suppressed a groan. Lord he hated the senseless babbling of others. There were times he wished he could honestly feign deafness so no one would talk to him -- but then again, that would give them free reign to talk about him with him being right there in the room. It was a lose-lose situation on all accounts. Finally exhausted by those around him, Azryel set his quill back in his bag, leaned back against the chair and set the notebook, open, ontop of his face, as though in an effort to get some shut-eye before the next patient came in. Thin arms folded across his black-uniformed chest, the hare's ears twitched a bit at the sound of Jameson asking him yet another boring question.

"So y'know where Victiore is off to, d'ya know where Roseleaf is then?" he asked over to Azryel, who'd buried his face in his work again. What was in that notebook that was so enthralling, anyway?

"I have absolutely no idea. Sorry."
At least he was being honest this time, though it was obvious he was more sorry for himself than for Jamie, whether or not he would admit to this was a different story entirely. Azryel's moment of respite was an extremely brief one, as Lord Asmodeus Black made his presence known by knocking the notebook off his son's face with a large dark cane made of cypress wood, the handle made of some kind of deep black metal carved in the shape of a falcon's head. About to chew the head off the creature who'd been so rude to him, Azryel started to his feet, enraged gray eyes flashing dangerously before they settled upon the culprit -- and the anger was knocked right out of him.
Replaced by shock, of course, as he looked into the scarred, aristocratic old face of his father, Major Asmodeus Black. He didn't look very pleased to see him. Azryel's face darkened as the Major spoke.

"What kind of son doesn't even stop to visit his own family, huh? I'm sure HE visits his parents when he returns home." Lord Black gestured to Lieutenant Sersea with a cane, apparently not caring about embarrassing Azryel in front of other hares. The Major had a gravelly, almost hoarse kind of voice, as if his throat may've been a bit damaged in fighting -- it was certainly scarred enough for that -- and with each tone uttered, Azryel's childhood came flooding back to him... Though it had been a lot happier then; for starters, people had still liked him, he'd had friends, and his parents had been extremely proud of their brilliant son...
But then he'd discovered the power of medicine, and seemingly everything went downhill from there.

((xD just trying to make this thread interesting, as well as reveal some more about Azryel, since we all know he won't talk about it. ;P Might as well SHOW you then.))

[Tracy]

"I have absolutely no idea. Sorry."

Jamie's ears twitched a bit and he allowed a look of disappointment to flicker across his face very briefly. He considered leaving, but really, what would he do? The lieutenant didn't have leave to go back to regular training yet, which is where all his peers currently were. Even his family was all busy. His stepfather had a string of council meetings today; his mother was teaching music lessons to leverets. Even his little sister was wrapped up in her various afternoon classes.

He was straightening up the covers of the bed that Landon had occupied a few minutes ago, absently, as if he wasn't even aware of what he was doing. Turning, another question on the tip of his tongue, he saw Azryel lounging back, notebook covering his eyes. Jamie made a face, shaking his head. He even briefly caught Ferra's gaze, and she smirked, putting a paw over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Seeing the doctor like this, more than anything so far, infuriated Jamie. The young lieutenant would give anything to be out with others, to be swinging his sword, to be training some cadets. But this perfectly healthy hare was napping in the middle of the day.

Fed up, Jamie walked down the hallway, disappearing into an open side room for several minutes. He finally came out, a worn-looking brown book in his paws. He'd meant to leave, but was brought up short by the presence of another hare accosting the doctor.

"What kind of son doesn't even stop to visit his own family, huh? I'm sure HE visits his parents when he returns home."

"Er. Good afternoon, Major," Jamie said for reply, politely enough. The hare was absolutely not going to reply to the older hare's comment, however true it might be. Sure, Jamie was extraordinarily close with his family, but to be fair, it was probably easier when your family… liked you. Walking around, he took up the pitcher of water and walked back over to Ferra, emptying the rest of the pitcher into the haremaid's cup.

"Feelin' better m'gel? Mayhap ready for that tramp 'round the parade grounds?" He was only hoping not to get sucked into the awkward reunion taking place between father and son behind him.

[Stryker]

"Er. Good afternoon, Major," Jamie said for reply, politely enough.

Black's eyes darted to Jameson's for just a moment, as if expecting him to start taking the major's side and further harrass him -- but no, Lieutenant Sersea was actually made of more nobler stuff than that, Azryel realized. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Black's shoulders squared and his chin lifted, looking his father directly in the eyes as the major berated him once more -- the hare, for once, quiet in the face of such dark criticism.

"What kind of a son skulks around the mountain like some kind of vermin? Just because you've made things...complicated in the past, doesn't give you the excuse to avoid your family like the plague! I won't accept some garbage answer like 'oh I was busy', or 'I had urgent matters to attend to', visiting your mother and I should've been the first thing on your list when you got here!"

Azryel could stand no more. Leaning in close, he murmured his retort in the major's ear, not wishing for Ferra and Sersea to see this 'family discussion' elevate further. "Father, you know perfectly well that putting me in the same room as mother will upset her, do you really want her asking me a thousand times why I can't just be normal? Don't act as though your so offended by my not showing up. You're only upset because I made you look bad in front of all your high-ranking friends and superiors." The doctor had decided long ago that his relationship with Asmodeus Black wasn't going to be a typical 'father/son' one, in fact, they were more like enemies the more Azryel came to think about it. They were each roadblocks on each other's paths, and as long as they stayed away from each other, there need not be any collisions.
Unfortunately, a collision was bound to happen anyway, as Azryel had pushed the one button he shouldn't have.

The major jabbed his scarred paw into his son's chest, hard enough that Azryel visibly grimaced. "Now you listen here, you sorry sack of--"

"Lord Black? Lord Black?"

The sudden entrance of a young 16-year-old officer arrived on the scene, distracting the Major from verbally cutting his son to ribbons in front of the patient and Lieutenant Sersea. The buck was Grayson Cloud, the younger cousin of Azryel Black on his mother's side. Their relation was apparent, as he seemed to have the high-society good looks and a proper pedigree that Azryel himself had been known for in his younger days. Now he was just that gaunt, creepy doctor no one trusted or liked.
Watching the Major calm down with the arrival of Grayson, something in Azryel's brain clicked. He's the replacement.

Azryel almost chuckled. Oh of course, why on earth would Asmodeus Black want to be associated solely with the possibly criminal, ammoral doctor son of his, when he could groom Azryel's younger cousin to be the perfect soldier Azryel never was?

"Lady Black wants to see you in the library, she says it's important." Relayed Grayson, in that same quiet, clipped tone Azryel used, though in a much friendlier disposition, the youngster's gray eyes flickering from the doctor to Sersea and then to the patient Ferra -- before the Major's words snapped them back to attention.
"Alright, I'd better go see what she wants. This isn't over, Azryel. No son of mine will treat his family so poorly."

Azryel watched him go, his gray eyes flashing with distaste. "Ah, yes father, and just like no son of yours would ever do anything you didn't agree with."

Noticing Grayson was still hanging about, the doctor snapped at him coldly. "What's the matter, you sick?"

"No--"

"Then get out."

Having the good sense to realize the Doctor was NOT to be messed with at the moment, Grayson saluted him, turned and saluted Jamie, and gave a polite nod to Ferra, exiting after the Major in a long, hurried stride. Azryel sat back down again, leaning forward with the tips of his fingers pressed together. It was a typical appearance of pensiveness, only he looked less pensive and more like he was brooding darkly. He obviously had quite a bit on his mind.

But at least now it was apparent why the young doctor did not like coming home. Glancing to Ferra and Sersea, Black assumed he should say something to at least make it sound like he still valued his own family name.
"I apologize for momentarily disturbing the peace. I will resolve all family matters outside of the infirmary from now on."

Blegh. Sometimes a family name as big as the Black Family's was both a blessing and a curse.

[Cross]

Victiore led the young cadet by the paw, talking in a comforting, even tone as he limped his way up to the infirmary. "I'll make you some nice tea with honey in it," she said softly, offering a friendly smile. "And then I can ease that bruise for you. How does that sound? You'll be fine by this evening, Cade."

Cade nodded, offering his hoarse thanks. He'd been in a tough spar that morning, and he'd yelled his throat raw on top of that. "You're a brick, Vicky," the cadet rasped. She smiled a little wider and led him down the corridor to the infirmary. She liked her new nickname Vicky. Braythe had started calling her that after many tries and failures to pronounce her real name. Now just about every hare called her by that name.

On the way, they passed two more hares, each of them looking slightly familiar to her somehow. The elder one, a refined-looking gentleman, was seething for some reason as he made his way down the hallway with his long black cane. The younger had lovely, elegant features of an aristocrat that belied the friendly sparkle in his eyes and the gentle smile that played his lips as he passed the mouse and the cadet.

Vicky turned her head to watch them go. They reminded her of somebeast she knew . . . Oh, who was it? She entered the infirmary with Cade and was instantly reminded of who it was. The infamous Dr. Black, whose name she had only recently learned, after their talk in the forge room, sat brooding at a desk. Vicky bit back a curse at her ill luck. She hoped she could just get Cade comfortable and avoid another taxing conversation with him.

But then she noticed Jameson Sersea and another young female hare whom she did not recognize. The mouse offered a small smile and nod to them. "Hello, Lieutenant Sersea," she greeted quietly, leading Cade to an empty bed. He sat down, rubbing his sore throat, and Vicky set about making the tea. She had to roll up the oversized sleeves of her uniform nearly to her shoulders to keep the fabric out of the way. She had nearly memorized where everything was in the infirmary, but she couldn't remember where the herbs were.

Checking a few cabinets, she bit her lip, straying unfortunately close to Black's desk as she looked. "Excuse me, Lieutenant Black," she said softly, accidentally bumping her hip against his chair as she walked behind his desk. She had been practicing calling the hares by their rank and surnames to avoid awkward informality. A tip she'd been given by Cordin. Or rather, Corporal Dorchester. Oh, where were those herbs?

[Tracy]

Jamie had intended to pretend he didn't see what was going on with Azryel, but after first being given attention by the Major, and eventually by the young soldier who padded in shortly after, he couldn't just be outright rude. Eventually, he just ended up standing there, watching the whole ordeal, like a disaster you couldn't avert your eyes from. Jamie's gaze followed the young Grayson as he scurried from the room, and briefly made eye contact with Ferra again. The haremaid lifted her eyebrows, shooting the lieutenant a knowing look, as if they were both thinking the same thing.

"I apologize for momentarily disturbing the peace. I will resolve all family matters outside of the infirmary from now on."

Jamie hadn't the slightest idea how to reply. Who barged into the infirmary to publicly accost a family member? For a family that prided themselves so highly on their aristocracy, they surely had atrocious manners. The young officer usually tried to empathize with others, but he couldn't even imagine being at such odds with your own parents. Jamie was famously close with his family, spending as much time as he possibly could with them. Oh well, it was probably for the best. Azryel wouldn't want empathy or sympathy from Jamie.

Instead, "Would y'care for a hot cup of tea? Or… mayhap something stronger?" Jamie offered the beleaguered doctor.

He turned then at the sound of another creature entering the room, briefly worried that Lord Black had returned with a bit more for Azryel. He was relieved, even a bit pleased, to see it was the little mouse healer instead. Although the lieutenant had hardly been the reason Victiore had been hired, he felt at least somewhat responsible for her after his enthusiastic support for her.

"Afternoon, Vicky!" Jamie said amiably. He tilted a long ear casually. "No need t'call me lieutenant. Jamie's fine. Between us two, you're the one in charge in here," he said with a wink. The young officer, as proud as he was of his rank and title, never quite took to non-soldiers calling him by his rank. If everyone had to call him 'lieutenant' he'd never hear his name again.

"Hullo to you, Cade," Jamie greeted the cadet as the mouse healer rooted about the infirmary. "Heard you gave Corporal Dorchester somethin' t'think about out on the log the other day." This hare knew everyone. And everything, apparently.

Jamie moved around back toward the counter where Vicky was looking for something. On his way, he passed by Ferra again. "How 'bout now, m'gel? Any better?"

The haremaid popped up from her seat on the bed, sidling playfully up to Jamie. "Oh yes, I think I'm QUITE ready for the walk out on the parade grounds now, wot." She leaned against his arm, twining her paw with his, looking up at him with an impish smile. "An' I think I'd feel better even faster if y'joined me on my jolly little jaunt."

[Stryker]

Black's thoughts were obviously elsewhere, and it took him a few moments to hear Jameson's offering of tea 'or something stronger', the doctor's thoughts a hazardous whirlwind of questions, answers and tiny little nitpicks -- particularly when it came to his young, bright-eyed little replacement. Ha. What a little snot. He'd been questioning the laws of medicine before that whelp had even been born... Though Black wasn't normally one to care about his title, he had noticed that Grayson had not saluted him upon arrival and exit.
Rude, especially for one who grew up in a strong military family.

Instead, "Would y'care for a hot cup of tea? Or… mayhap something stronger?" Jamie offered the beleaguered doctor.

"What? -- ah, yes, actually I would." It was then as the haggard doctor rose from his chair that Victiore Fawn bumped it, his attention shooting away from Jamie and Ferra to the little satin mouse right next to him. For a minute, Azryel stared at her as though she'd literally materialized out of thin air. You again? Bollocks, is everyone and their grandmother out to make my first week here utterly miserable?
"What? What?" Repeated Black irritably, standing aside in case she hadn't been about to ask him a question but instead had been reaching for something. Turning around coldly, the doctor headed to the nearest coffee pot and gave it a little shake, hearing the lukewarm liquid slosh against it's sides. Bleh. Perhaps tea would be better -- the hot water still, at least, looked hot. Pulling a cup from the stack nearby, Black grabbed about six tea bags, dumped them into the cup, and then proceeded to pour hot water into it.
It wasn't long before the liquid was so dark, it was edging closer and closer to the color black with each minute that passed. Having already forgotten about Victiore's presence (the arrival of his father and that little toadie seemed to be completely monopolizing his mind while he still had free time), the doctor did not notice the satin mouse again until it was too late, and by that time, a collision was most certainly unavoidable.

(( ;P Ouch, spilled tea. I think a majority of it will have landed on Black though, lol, we don't want it to stain Vicky's pretty white fur. ^^ ))

[Kenyon]

Roseleaf returned sore of paw, loaded down with bundles and leading a protesting leveret by the ear. Despite this, she was still in a good mood. It had been a productive morning… she turned into the door of her infirmary expecting a quiet afternoon of productive activity and came face to face with chaos.

“WHAT—is going on here?” She demanded, sweeping her glance from her assistant and Doctor Black to the moaning patients (hamming it up, she didn’t doubt) to Jamie and Ferra. Her fingers tightened as the leveret tried to escape. “Sit. Stay.” She pointed to a chair in a corner away from the door. The young hare sulked over, rubbing his ear ruefully.

She turned a stern eye on the disaster that was Fawn and Black. Oh, when would that mouse grow a backbone? Black had just spilled coffee all over her. Was she going to speak up or not? She frowned, something wasn’t right. What was it… suddenly she realized what her brain had only skipped over before and her eyes swung to lock on Jamie and the haremaid he was entwined with. Her eyebrow rose.

“Do you two need a room?”

[Cross]

((Too bad, Fawn, lol. Vicky can't stay perfectly white ALL the time, you know.))

"Afternoon, Vicky!" Jamie said amiably. He tilted a long ear casually. "No need t'call me lieutenant. Jamie's fine. Between us two, you're the one in charge in here," he said with a wink.

Vicky chuckled, locating a kettle and, finally, some chamomile. "If you say so, Lieu--Jamie," she replied, setting some water to boil. She liked Jamie, and not just because he'd pretty much gotten her this job. He was simply a nice hare. "I think Roseleaf is the real one in charge, though."

"What? What?" Repeated Black irritably, standing aside in case she hadn't been about to ask him a question but instead had been reaching for something.

"I'm only trying to--" Vicky was startled as she turned to face the doctor, but instead collided with the gaunt hare, receiving half the mug's worth of hot, black coffee all over her front. She yelped at the sudden heat, staggering back against the counter to steady herself.

The dark concoction stained her fur, turning it a mottled brown color. The fine hairs were easily susceptible to coffee stains, even though Vicky hadn't quite been aware of that before now. Looking up, she noticed Black covered in about the same amount of coffee as she was. Biting her lip, she backed off another few paces. "Sorry," she murmured, trying to move around him. She could tell he was a bit distracted today.

And then Roseleaf showed up. Oh, darn. Vicky quickly returned to making Cade's tea. The cadet was smart enough to keep silent on his bed as chaos reigned in the room.

((Oh, this oughtta be good.))

[Tracy]

Jamie was unsure how to react to this haremaid all but throwing herself on him. Some other day in the past, he would've been amused by her boldness, and he still was. But the amusement was overpowered by him realizing this was no longer okay. He opened his mouth, summoning up some gentle let-down for the infatuated haremaid, when a disturbance distracted the task at hand.

Watching the little mousemaid collide with the already-irate doctor, he winced. Azryel was not having a good day. And by the looks of it, Vicky wasn't going to either. But Jamie was prepared to jump to the mouse's defense if need be.

"Vicky, are you al-"

“WHAT—is going on here?”

Roseleaf! Jamie's initial reaction was delight, as it tended to be when the haremaid walked into the room. Ferra was briefly forgotten, even wrapped teasingly about his arm as she still was. Jamie remembered Ferra almost the same instant that Roseleaf's gaze pivoted back in his direction. Oops. Before he could stutter up a useless excuse, the infirmary keeper reacted.

“Do you two need a room?”

All thoughts of handling Ferra with sensitivity flew straight out the window. Jamie slipped his arm from her grasp in one fluid motion, taking a definitive step away to put space between them. "I… she… no." he replied blankly. Ferra looked a little surprised by that, turning to him questioningly. Jamie glanced a couple times between Ferra and Roseleaf, finally landing his gaze on the slighted haremaid at his side. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I'm… ah…" he searched for the right words. "Spoken for."

Although he didn't go into detail, he was about to clear up any confusion. Moving quickly over to Roseleaf, he went to relieve her of the bundles in her arms. "Afternoon, beautiful," he greeted with a small smile that was both happy and apologetic. He leaned around the bundles to give her a quick kiss. "Let me take these for you."

[Stryker]

The dark concoction stained her fur, turning it a mottled brown color. The fine hairs were easily susceptible to coffee stains, even though Vicky hadn't quite been aware of that before now. Looking up, she noticed Black covered in about the same amount of coffee as she was. Biting her lip, she backed off another few paces. "Sorry," she murmured, trying to move around him. She could tell he was a bit distracted today.

Azryel glanced down at his now soiled uniform, feeling the hot liquid seep through his fur to burn his very sensitive skin -- a stream of hissed curses directed at no one in particular (well, maybe at the tea) passed through the doctor's lips before he could catch himself. Aha. Apparently he'd been spending too much time near vermin...or at least creatures with very bad language. Glancing from himself (now that he realized he wasn't the only person slighted in this incident), Azryel observed the dark, staining liquid soaking up the mouse's beautiful fur that was, once upon a time, white.

The doctor blinked, momentarily forgetting how much his chest was smarting a bit. Well, at least she looks even more like a 'nature girl' than she did when I first saw her. With her murmured apology the only thing he received after their collision, the doctor shot her a glare that could've turned fire into ice, unbuttoning his uniform as he skirted the two lovebirds and the bewildered Ferra to one of the back rooms. Victiore was certainly living up to the expression 'quiet as a mouse'. Even WITH tea spilled all over her, she'd mumbled an apology and got right back on working.
Yep, still spineless.

Thank goodness he always kept a set of spare clothes... Even if they were there for when he spilled...things other than tea on his current ones. Azryel was quick but careful about changing his wardrobe, making sure the buttons were aligned properly and the collar straightened before returning to the main room. Dropping a cleaning rag upon the floor, Azryel placed his foot over it and proceeded to wipe up the spilled tea, his attention, at last, finally settling on Jamie and Roseleaf.
Oh for the love of ~
And here the doctor had thought he'd been bothering them with his family troubles. At least he didn't subject them to any of this garbage. If he had some sort of significant other, he would certainly be a bit more private with any romantic gestures or whatever the hell this was. Oh well, he should've known. When Lieutenant Playboy showed up here in search of a Roseleaf, obviously not at all concerned by how his unnecessary presence might be a distraction or at disturbance, it should've clicked then that Roseleaf and Jameson were obviously having some kind of a...thing.
Dating?
Well, whatever they were calling it, Azryel would prefer it if they did it somewhere else.

“Do you two need a room?” Commented the hare dryly, turning his attention back on the remaining patients. His first words were to Cade. "What's the matter with you? Bruised footpaw? And Miss Ferra, considering the 'object of your silly affections' is obviously taken, I suggest you stop taking up bed space and go elsewhere."
Azryel eyed Cade again, as though not sure whether to chide him on being too weak to handle a silly thing like a bruised footpaw, or being too foolish to bother with that now not-so-white mouse Victiore Fawn.

SIGH.
First week here and he was ready for another vacation.

[Kenyon]

Jamie had a certain reputation around the mountain, but Roseleaf hadn’t been worried. The poor lieutenant looked so surprised and uncomfortable, and besides, Ferra was way too young for him. She smiled slightly as he stammered an excuse to Ferra, trying to let the poor girl down lightly. Her smile bordered slightly on the Yes, he’s mine variety. Roseleaf wasn’t as concerned with Ferra’s feelings as Jamie.

"Afternoon, beautiful," he greeted with a small smile that was both happy and apologetic. He leaned around the bundles to give her a quick kiss. "Let me take these for you."

“Afternoon.” She greeted, returning his light kiss. She surrendered a few of the packs she was carrying with a grateful smile. She spied Vicky returning to her work without a murmur. What was she going to do with that mouse?

“Victiore.” Her voice cut across the room’s babble, her tone crisp. “Why don’t you get cleaned up? I’m sure that can wait.”

“Do you two need a room?”

“No, we do not, Doctor. In fact, I believe we do not need your services any more this afternoon. So if you would take your sulk, your notebook and yourself somewhere else, it would be greatly appreciated.” Sometimes she could work with the doctor. Other times, like today, he seemed to have something extra stuck in his craw. Roseleaf, who liked her infirmary quiet, peaceful and productive, found it especially hard to tolerate his moods at such times.

[Cross]

"Victiore,"

Winter's Ice . . . Vicky's flattened ears refused to perk up. She bit her lip again, turning to face the infirmary keeper. A nervous smile attempted to cross her features, but it was replaced with a mild blush at the sight of Jamie's sweet and obviously smitten smile at Roseleaf. She didn't have time to dwell on the scene, however, for Roseleaf--

“Why don’t you get cleaned up? I’m sure that can wait.”

She glanced down at herself, biting back a curse. Oh, right, she was soaked in black tea. "Yes, of course," she replied softly, hurrying into another room. She sent a quick, "I'll be right back," to Cade, who nodded in reply.

"What's the matter with you? Bruised footpaw?"

Cade turned to the doctor, ears perked. "Aye, sah," he replied hoarsely, seemingly unaffected by Black's tone. "An' me ribs, an' me arms, an' me back a bit, too, an' I think the blighter did a number on me ear." He tilted an awkwardly-bent ear with a wince. "An' the ol' throat's gone jolly well raw. But I'm shore it's nothin' Mizz Vicky can't fix, wot?" And then he smiled brightly.

Vicky returned a little later clad in a fresh uniform, still far too big for her, but then everything would be too big for her here. Her fur showed no sign of the dark tea Black had spilled on her, and her tattoos once again stood out sharply against the fine white hairs. (It was amazing what one could accomplish with a good brush and a tub of water.) She smiled almost expectantly at Roseleaf, hoping for the haremaid's approval. And then she finished Cade's tea.