The Poisoned Apple (Solo)

[Maya Frostfawn]

Timestamp: Winter 3, 523 AV Even though the day was young, and Maya had only been at work for a few hours, it felt as though the day was an aged, decrepit thing. An old man with worn and weathered skin, dry and cracked by time. She supposed it was because she'd had little to do all day, being that no one had dared enter the good doctor's clinic, seeking assistance that only he and his latest assistant could provide. She could not say that she blamed the city's populace, but it did lead to a dull day of tidying up and fetching things for the good doctor whenever he asked. Goodness knew what he was up to. She had learned early on in her medical career working beside him, never to ask. It was best never to ask, never to inquire. Just to keep your head down and do your work, lest he remember you were there. And that was precisely what she was doing, keeping her head down and working in silence, hoping against hope that the good doctor would forget she exists. Unfortunately, it was no longer possible to avoid the truth when the good doctor walked in and asked that she hand him a pair of medical scissors, and their first patient of the day stumbled in the door a few moments later, in an apparent daze. As soon as she entered, the scent of fresh vomit made Maya's nostrils flare, and when she looked up to study their latest patient, she noticed that the young woman had a spot of red-colored vomit at the edge of her pale lips, and she was stumbling around as though drunk. Maya rushed forward to help the woman awkwardly to an operating table; the good doctor remained where he was, medical scissors in hand, silently surveying the scene. After Maya had gotten the woman situated, she took a moment to truly study the latest patient to brave the Clinic and the good doctor's not so wonderful reputation. The woman was deathly pale, her skin white as snow, and it shone ominously in the faint light of the Clinic. Sweat beaded her pale brow, and as Maya continued to study her, she realized that she could not tell if the woman's skin was normally this pale, or it was merely a casting of the poor light in conjunction with whatever ailed her. She was trembling all over, and as the nuit's eyes danced over her pale, seemingly frightened form, Maya realized that a rash that reminded her of blooming roses had broken out on her skin. They were splotchy and uneven in shade, unsightly against what was once a bed of pure white skin. The woman looked to be in her late teens, surely not twenty, with such a young-looking face and slender form. Her eyes, Maya realized, were the brown of chocolate. Her hair the color of raven's feathers, tumbled only to her shoulders, and a fraying red bow had been tied about her head to keep her bangs and the majority of her hair out of her eyes. Her dress was the simple fair of the peasant class, but even if it had not been, Maya would have been able to discern that she was less affluent than most, given how scrawny she was. She looked as though she had not consumed a proper meal in quite some time, and Maya could only imagine that she hadn't. This was no different than her own being, but she no longer had wont for food in the way humans such as her patient had. And as her eyes lingered on the woman's lips for a final moment, she wondered if she should fetch her some water. But after realizing they had nothing fresh about the Clinic, nothing that would not worsen the woman's condition, she settled on a relatively clean rag. After handing it to her patient, she instructed the young woman to wipe her mouth before asking if she knew what had caused her current condition or if she was feeling anything else that wasn't immediately discernible just by looking at her. "Anything beside the apparent stomach upset, rash, and sweating." The woman took a moment to respond. It was as though Maya was speaking to her through a thick fog, at least, that's what the woman's movements portrayed as she languidly fluttered her lashes and looked up as Maya, as though she had just remembered that there was someone else in the room, as though she had just realized other people had the ability to produce sound from their lips, to speak. "No," she said in a voice like thin air, "I don't think so." She hiccuped violently and fresh vomit drizzled out the side of her mouth. Had she been human, Maya might have grimaced or vomited herself, but Maya was no longer human, and did neither of those things. Instead, she gestured to the soiled rag in the woman's hand, and the woman delicately wiped her mouth. "Do you know what caused your current condition?" Maya pressed, as the good doctor looked on. "Or at the very least, do you remember when this all started?" Again, the woman took a time to respond, blinked heavily, as though clearing a fog from her head before she responded. "I think it all began when I took a bite of that apple." Maya's brow furrowed. She frowned. "What apple?" she asked, surprised by the woman's response, for if she remembered correctly, apples were relatively hard to come by in Sunberth, expensive in comparison to other types of food, and out of season on top of everything else. Given the woman's impoverished and borderline emaciated appearance, she was surprised the woman could afford one, (if her memory served her well), now of all things. Especially now, of all things. For the third time, the woman took her time responding. "The one that old woman gave me when she came by the flat." Maya's frown deepened. This woman wasn't making any sense. Who just gave away apples to strangers? Especially in a city such as this? No one in this city harbored any kindness in their heart, not from what she could tell, and her brain simply could not process the woman's words, although she understood each of them on their own. "What on earth are you talking about?" the nuit inquired, as confused as ever when one of her patients appeared to be in some sort of sickly daze. Word Count: 1,084 Words

[Maya Frostfawn]

The patient was silent for quite some time. The silence stretched on for so long, that Maya wondered if the woman was ever going to answer her question. But eventually, the words came, and they were an answer, even if they weren't the sort she had been expecting all this time. "An old woman gave me an apple when she came to visit... I've seen her around town before; I think she might be a neighbor of mine, or at the very least, someone who lives close by." The nuit frowned, her eyes locked on that of her patient. She didn't know of many elderly folk in Sunberth. They didn't have the means to survive, given its cutthroat nature. When that was taken in conjunction with Sunberth's oft rundown and messy state of existence, they simply could not survive... at least, not for long, in a city such as this, where anything went and the strong preyed upon the weak in order to get ahead. Even if it was only by a hair's breadth. Or half a hair's breadth. A part of Maya, despite her endless patience, wanted to slap her patient; she simply wasn't making any sense. But before she could act on impulse, the woman continued speaking and clarified, if only a little bit. "Her skin is pale, but tinged with pink and peach. It is wrinkled to the point where her younger body is beyond recognition. Her eyes seem too large for her head; they're dark, dark as night. With pupils that seem far too large, even for them, and veiny whites that run with thin tendrils of blood. Or at least... something as red as blood. Her brows are thick and dark; they remind me of the tail of a shaggy dog. And her nose is long and pointed, like a crow's beak. An unsightly boil rests on the edge, reddening the skin around it. And her smile is something that makes me shudder." At the thought, the woman trembled. She continued to do so for a few moments, before finally finding the strength to continue speaking. "There's something so unsettling about it. But whether that comes from the woman's lack of teeth, or something else, I'm not entirely sure." There was a moment of silence. "If you found her so unsettling, then why did you take the food she offered? Surely your instincts were trying to tell you something, warn you of her." The woman blinked and looked up into Maya's eyes again, stifling a cough or a hiccup as she did so. "If you were starving, would you turn down free food? Even if it was offered by a woman who unsettled you? A woman clothed in darkness, with a hood drawn over her head, same as you, lady?" For a moment, Maya drew back as though shocked or stunned, "I don't suppose I would, if I were starving," she replied. The woman smiled, if only weakly. There was no glimmer in her eyes; the smile could not reach it. "Now you begin to understand." The good doctor cleared his throat. "I don't see how any of that matters." Maya blinked, turned to face her employer as though just remembering he was in the room with her being that it had been quite some time since he had spoken or made any noise. "I suppose it does simply from the standpoint of it lets us know who put our patient in her current state. Given her testimony, it would appear as though the older woman poisoned her." "Poisoned?" the woman gasped. Maya ignored her for the time being. "And being that she's not dead, I would surmise that the poison isn't too severe and that her body is working to counteract it, given that it's trying to expel the poison through the use of vomit." A pause. "Would you agree with my assessment, doctor?" Maya inquired. The doctor frowned, deep in thought for a moment. "Part of what you have said, at the very least," the good doctor finally replied. "While it would seem that the older woman poisoned our patient with the apple, we cannot be entirely sure that was the case given that we lack the apple, we cannot test whether or not it has been laced with anything. Thus, for all we know, our patient could have eaten something else that was poisoned, or something else that didn't exactly agree with her earlier in the day and not exhibited a response until after she had eaten the apple. Or something else she came into contact with has made her ill. Something else in her environment." A pause. "Although, given her symptoms and the severity of her response to whatever has made her sick, poison is certainly a strong possibility." A pause. "But it is certainly not the only possibility." Maya nodded. "Understood, doctor." "In any case, we've stood around doing nothing useful long enough. We should just treat the stupid woman and get her out of here." "I'm right here!" the woman cried, before collapsing on the table, her whole body shaking. Maya turned to the doctor. "Do you think it's the work of the poison or whatever ails her?" The doctor grunted, "perhaps. We should have her expel the contents of her stomach, if there's anything left. I believe I have some herbs for that," she said with a sinister smile before he went rooting about their supplies. After rummaging around for a few moments, he returned with a vial of green herbs. They were dry and shriveled things. He poured them all into his hand before approaching their patient and shoving his cupped palm against the woman's mouth. Her eyes began to tear as she gasped and tried to pull away from him, but with his other hand, he held her tightly in place and forced her to swallow without the aid of water or another fluid. As tears streamed down the alarmed woman's face, her eyes more lucid than they had ever been before, she swallowed heavily. Maya almost thought she could see the herbs make their way down the woman's throat as she took them all down and the doctor, satisfied that the deed was done, removed his hand from her trembling lips and stalked away. Maya watched him like a hawk for but a moment before returning her gaze to their patient, wondering what the good doctor had done and if it was truly in the woman's best interest. Probably not, given his track record, his lengthy reputation. Fresh beads of sweat began to break out on the pale woman's brow. Her chest rose and fell heavily, and the rate of her breathing increased. Maya thought she could hear her heart beating in her chest as her body curled in on itself and she began to cough. Violently. Over and over again. Her chest heaving with each expulsion of air, until more than air left her lips. Until bright red vomit cascaded into her lap, dribbled down the length of her chin. Had she been human, Maya might have grimaced, might have been disgusted, but she was no longer human and in touch with her feelings. Instead, only her nostrils responded to what was happening, by flaring against the unpleasant smell. Hastily, Maya threw another rag at the woman so she could wipe herself off. It fell into the pile of vomit, and before the woman could fish it out, she vomited onto it again. Lovely, the nuit thought to herself before turning to face the good doctor as their patient continued to expel the few contents that remained in her stomach from her body. "What did you give her?" she inquired, surprised by the ferocity of the woman's response to the herbs she had been given earlier. The doctor shrugged, a cruel smile crossing his lips. "Oh, nothing special. Just a little bit of this, a little bit of that." The sound of the woman's retching echoed in the air around them. Maya tried to ignore it, tried to drown it out, but it was impossible, and her gaze quickly returned to their patient, whose coughs were beginning to die down alongside her heaving. Her vomiting, although she looked paler, sweatier, and frailer than she had previously. As though her energy was entirely spent, or pretty darn close. "Whatever it was, doctor, it seems to have done its work. We can probably begin the rest of our job now," she commented, wondering if she should risk the glass of water she had considered before, simply so the woman could rinse her mouth out and hopefully, get the taste of vomit out of it. But again, she wasn't sure it was worth the risk. Word Count: 1,459 Words

[Maya Frostfawn]

Because she was not sure what was in the water the Clinic had to offer, if anything at all, as she suspected, she was not sure if she would simply make their latest patient worse, which was definitely not something the woman could afford at the moment given how much she had vomited both prior to her arrival and since she had dared walk through the Clinic's doors. After taking another moment to consider the situation and what might be best for their patient, the nuit decided she definitely could not risk the water, which still left her wondering where to begin. As her eyes passed over their patient, who was still sweating, quivering, and covered in both puke and its vile stench, she decided that it would be best to get the woman cleaned up, not only so they wouldn't have to touch the puke while they were working on their patient, if only by mistake, but because she supposed they would all feel better if the woman was clean and they got the stench as far away from them as possible. Without a word, Maya reached for a pair of medical scissors, stepped behind the patient, and carefully snipped down the bottom of her dress, causing the fabric to gradually fall away from her skin, revealing a pale strip that gradually widened with each additional snip of the scissors. For a moment, the woman was silent as the nuit worked, as was the good doctor, but after a moment, the woman began to protest, clutch her dress to her skin. "What are you doing?" the patient asked. "Getting this dress off you," Maya replied simply, her tone level. Devoid of emotion, as was the way of her people. "Why?" the woman replied, alarmed. "It's filthy and smells terrible and I think we'd all feel better if it was gone." The doctor smirked behind her, but said nothing as she continued to work. "But I'll catch cold!" the woman protested. "And it's indecent." "We're both doctors, I wouldn't worry about it, we do this all the time." A pause. "Inspect human bodies I mean." Another pause. "Besides, it's warm enough in here. You'll be fine, and we can give you something to wear home." The woman clutched her dress closer to her body. Maya ignored it and kept on snipping. Finally, realizing she had lost, the woman relented and Maya finished cutting through her clothes. When she was finished, she set the scissors down, before carefully folding the dress into the puke and tossing it in the bin. The woman trembled, her skin glistening with cold sweat as the scent of vomit receded, if only marginally. The patient was curled into herself, clearly cold, so Maya tossed her a small dry rag to drape over her shoulders. It was not much, but it was something. More than she had before at the very least, and should help to take the edge off of her chill. Now that the dress was gone, all that remained were the woman's measly undergarments. They covered little, she was mostly bare skin. "I think the rash will be the easiest thing to contend with," Maya commented, as her eyes danced over the woman's skin. "We can wipe away her sweat while we're at it too." A pause. "What do you think, doctor?" she inquired. The doctor was studying their patient with his eyes; there was a hungry look about them. The nuit doubt it was desire, but something else. His cruelty, a strong desire to make this woman into one of his pets. One of his unfortunate victims, an experimental body. Maya ignored the look; she had grown accustomed to it during the time she had worked for the good doctor, and was not entirely surprised to see it, although the doctor made none of his usual moves to capture their patient. He took a long time responding too. "We could begin there; she vomited enough where if she was poisoned, most if not all of it should be out of her system by now." A pause. "And since it hasn't killed her, I doubt it was designed to do much more than. make her sick, if it really was poison." Maya nodded. "We can begin by cleaning her up then." She quickly turned from their patient, grabbed a pair of clean rags, and handed one to the girl. "Wipe yourself down as best you can, if you'd please. I'll get your back," she added, as she began wiping the sweat from the woman's hunched back, her slender shoulders. The back of her neck where her hair clung, sticky with sweat. When they finished a few moments later, Maya grabbed the sweaty rag from their patient, and placed both it and her own on the counter before returning her gaze to their patient. She lifted the woman's arm and held it up for inspection. "What do you think caused this rash, doctor?" she asked. "Was it a reaction to something she ate, or perhaps, a reaction to something she was wearing?" The doctor considered, shrugged. "We'd have to ask her." He looked up at their patient. "Do you often get rashes? Or is this uncommon for you?" he asked. "I don't often get rashes, no," she replied. The good doctor turned to Maya. "Then I doubt it was her clothes; it must have been something she ate." Maya nodded. "Do you have an ointment or something we could use for treatment? We haven't had a case of rash in quite awhile." "Somewhere, the doctor replied, before he turned and began rummaging around in their supplies. A few moments later, he found what he had been looking for and took it out. He handed the jar of ointment to Maya. "If you apply this liberally to her skin, it should help." Maya nodded, took the jar of ointment from the good doctor, opened it up as carefully as she could, dipped her spare fingers inside, scooping a large amount out, before reaching for their patient, and smearing the ointment all over her skin. It was mostly clear, but had a sort of sheen to it. It smelled of onions, and was as cold as her skin if not colder. The woman shuddered at her touch, or perhaps it was the cool of the ointment, the nuit could not tell as she continued to apply it to the woman's skin. After she had covered every inch of the woman's rash with the ointment, Maya closed the jar, set it on the counter, and wiped her fingers off on one of the sweaty rags they had used to clean the patient off with earlier. "Now it's time to handle everything else," the doctor commented, absently. Maya nodded. "We should give her something to settle her stomach, and counteract any potential poisons," she commented. "Don't you think?" the doctor nodded. "That should be easy enough; we have a lot to sort out upset stomach. He turned and began rummaging around in their supplies again, before pulling out a vial of dried peppermint leaves, which he handed to the woman to eat. "This should help cool you down as well," he said, as someone else walked in the door. Word Count: 1,210 Words

[Maya Frostfawn]

As their patient took the proffered herbs with some degree of hesitation, from what the nuit could discern, the newcomer strode into the operating room. As Maya's eyes danced over him, she took in his peculiar form. He was a particularly short man, standing no taller than four feet from head to toes. He was dressed in grubby peasant's clothes; they were covered in black dust, which made the nuit instantly think of coal. He had pale skin, with a rather large red nose. Eyes dark as the night, a wiry beard that matched the shade of his short hair. A sort of dark brown, fading into the white of salt here and there. His posture, and his expression were mean and impatient. Not something entirely out of the ordinary in a man of his age, or a man of Sunberth; he looked to be perhaps thirty years of age. The grumpy little man stopped right beside their patient, and growled, "Snow, what on earth is taking so long? A simple trip to the doctor shouldn't take so bloody long! Aren't you well yet?" He didn't give her time to respond before turning his attention to both the doctor and his assistant, his gaze passing back and forth between them, over and over again. "What are you both standing around for? No wonder why this is taking so long! Snow should have been back ages ago!" A pause. A snap of his fingers. "Now hop to it, we haven't got all day. I've got to get her back home before I head to work so she can rest before supper tonight." Maya blinked, surprised that so much noise could come out of such a little thing. "I'm sorry..." her voice trailed off as Snow spoke up. "Don't be such a sourpuss, Grumpy. They're treating me just fine. And these things take time." The little man folded his arms over his chest and was just about to respond when yet ANOTHER little fellow strolled in. This one seemed to be roughly the same size and age as the first, but his face was brighter, and his demeanor kinder. He had bright brown eyes. A plump form that some may refer to as "rotund." He seemed like a little ball of joy, really. His cheeks and face were round and rosy as was his nose, from which a series of whiskers sprouted, that spread around his face in a thick beard. In sum, he seemed to be the polar opposite of the first little man who had entered the operating room after their current patient; he simply seemed happy to be alive. "How you doing, Snow? You feeling any better now? You gave us all a scare when we heard you weren't feeling well and had gone into the Clinic." There's more of them? Just how many people does this woman live with? Maya wondered as their patient replied that she was beginning to feel better. The grumpy little man cut in then. "Yeah, yeah. Now just how long is this going to take? We haven't got all bloody day you know. We've got places to be and things to do, just like everyone else." "Oh, Grumpy, would you relax? I'm sure these lovely people have been taking good care of our girl," he said with a smile. Grumpy grumbled and rolled his eyes; he muttered something under his breath that the nuit could not quite make out. "Not much longer," she managed after a moment, realizing that someone needed to answer the grumpy newcomer. "We were just beginning to wrap up." She turned to the good doctor, her employer, and asked. "What do you think we should recommend as her continued care? Her treatment for home?" she said, more to clarify for those other than the doctor who were currently listening. The doctor shrugged, disinterested. "Rest. A lot of rest. Fluids. Peppermint or ginger tea to settle the stomach. Should be easy enough to come by." Maya nodded. "Do you have any questions?" the woman shook her head. "Not about that, but... could I get some clothes?" Maya had nearly forgotten about that, and the little men, it seemed had just noticed. "What happened to your clothes?" the grumpy one growled. "They were soiled and we had to get rid of them." Maya said, simply. "That's what the wash is for." Maya resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "They were a little too soiled for that," she said before turning her gaze back to their patient. "Give me a moment and I'll try and find something in your size," she said, before heading to the other side of the room, where they stored things like rags and the things they took off the doctor's pets who had not made it. When she found something that might work, she returned to her patient, gave it to her, and the woman rose unsteadily. With the jolly little man's help, she managed to change into her new clothes, which were a bit short on her, but also loose. They would do for now, the nuit thought as her eyes danced over the woman. "Is that all?" the grumpy one asked. Maya nodded. "As long as she doesn't have any other questions, you're free to go whenever she feels ready. Just make sure she does as the doctor orders. She needs to rest, have her tea and fluids. And..." she turned to the doctor. "Broth and simple foods for a bit? So as not to upset her stomach again?" the doctor nodded. "That should be fine," he said, before the happy little man thanked them for their assistance, alongside his female companion, and they began to head off. The two little men singing a peculiar song. "Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho, it's home from work we go." Maya frowned, she thought they had said something about needing to go to work, but it didn't matter. The strange song faded away into the sounds of the city soon enough, leaving her only with the sound of the doctor's breathing and the memory of the patient they had just seen. A drip coming from some place she could not see or name. As she looked around the room, she realized what a mess it was. This wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but she didn't really want it to be a mess, if she had the option to avoid it. "I'll get this place cleaned up, doctor," Maya announced. "Hopefully, I'll have the time before our next patient arrives seeking assistance only we can provide." The doctor grunted. There was a glint in his eye. It seemed angry, as opposed to mischevious, as might have been the case in a small child. "Very well," he said as he rummaged around in their supplies. When he found another, larger set of medical scissors, he shoved them in his pocket, before grabbing his bonesaw and walking away. Had she been human, Maya might have grimaced, but she was no longer human any more than she was in touch with her emotions, which might have been a mixture of unease and fear in this situation. Worry. Worry for the people out back. For that seemed to be where he was headed, given that he couldn't take their past patient in, at least, not with both of the little men there. Not easily, no matter his skill. Especially given that she wouldn't have been much help. She thought she could hear their screams intensify. Die down, intensify. And for a moment, she wondered what he was up to this time, then thought better of it. It was definitely better not to think about it at all. So with a little sigh, she simply began cleaning up, putting their supplies back in their places. Wiping down the operating table, although there was little point. Throwing the soiled rags they had used to wipe down their patient in a bin to be washed, although there was little point. Cleaning, although there was little to no point, until the next patient strolled in some time later. Asking for assistance, although Maya doubt there was any point, given the good doctor's foul mood, she led him inside and set him down on the operating table, before asking how she could be of assistance. How she could help, although again, there was little point. The doctor would be back soon, and he was hungry for new subjects. New playthings. He was always, so very hungry... Word Count: 1,418 Words