ph_logs | I think you ought to walk with me and be safe [November Open]

I think you ought to walk with me and be safe [November Open]

Who: Chris Freeman & ... First Aid (

lovinglefthand) / Erik Osborne (

lordoftheozarks) / River la Croix (

somebodychildofanyone) / The Shade (

deaths_head) ... & YOU!
What: catch-all, wildcard, and promised threads
When: in-game November, post-Pumpkinfest
Where: All around town
Warning(s): discussions of trauma, past deaths (in-game and backstory) are likely; probably NSFW in the Erik thread, lbr... mind the comment headers if anything else comes up.

OPEN - Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, you sure are lookin' good...
Chris happens to find the idea of seniority based on who's been on Marrow Isle the longest to be an absurd way to organize things. Dr. Winterbottom, despite her retirement, is the final authority for medical matters because she's a local and has the most experience out of all of them. Chris isn't sure exactly how to organize everyone else, but they consider themself at the bottom of the rankings, having only book learning, some experience as a medical assistant, and employment history as a coroner.

So it's not unusual to see Chris taking on the 'drudge work' -- arranging appointments for people, making home visits for follow up purposes, arranging supply contacts for 'the real doctors' to get the things their clinics need. This frees up people like Sally Boyle, First Aid, Dr. Pierce, and Dr. Watson to do the things that only they -- trained and experienced pharmacologists, doctors, and surgeons -- can do.

It's very likely to see Chris somewhere around town on an errand of some sort, or even visiting the outskirts to keep tabs on people who live away from the town center.

CLOSED to First Aid - You spent your stipend on THAT?
"You got the general store to tell you what grocery package I bought for next month?" Chris asks. They fold their arms over their chest defensively. "I'm an adult, you know. I can spend my money as I please."

The confrontation with First Aid is most likely taking place at the Winterbottom Clinic after hours. Seems that First Aid is very serious about making sure that everyone is as healthy as possible. Including their co-worker Chris.

CLOSED to Lord Erik Osborne - I promised you a fashion show...
Chris finally accepted their fate as one of Dr. Agnes Winterbottom's sucessors, and took over running her clinic at the end of October. As of November first, they've been given a small house within walking distance of said clinic, and moved their few material possessions from a room at the Oak and Iron into the house.

Chris asked Sam to deliver a letter to Erik -- and the vampire lord will find that it's an invitation to visit Chris's new home.

Part of it reads: 'Any evening that you're free, just give me a day's notice so I won't be on call that night. I promised you a little fashion show, remember?'

(Which may be enticing on its own, but this also gives Erik a chance to satisfy his curiosity about Chris's powers. Answering questions in private is usually more comfortable.)

CLOSED to River - A miracle of food engineering... (and maybe other engineering too)
Despite slightly rocky interactions -- Chris cried during their first conversation, and River accidentally sliced her fingers during their second -- Chris is actually feeling pretty good about a friendship with the head blacksmith of Infernal Arms and Armor.

And because it worked so well last time (with Sam), Chris trades in one of their last food vouchers for some savory hand pies from the Oak and Iron's kitchens. Come lunch time, they are at River's forge with a basket of food to share.

Has River been introduced to the idea of hand pies yet?

Chris also has some ideas for a bed -- an old design in their own world, not available on Marrow Isle -- that could help with post-surgical recovery. Zie wants to talk about the idea with River, and see if fabricating the parts is doable... either with her team, or from John who does less weapon-related forging.

CLOSED to The Shade - Death dad and death son go a-hunting
Both Chris and the Shade have a connection to death, something that the Shade could easily see when they met at a shooting game during Pumpkinfest. That hadn't been the right venue to get more information on using that connection to death with a weapon, as the Shade offered to teach them about... but some time in November?

Chris heads over to the Shade's place one morning, at his invitation. They've got their most sturdy shoes and sensible clothes on (no skirts or slippers today), and just their first aid kit in their ever-present bag. Chris isn't quite sure what these lessons will entail, but they are determined to be a good student.

OPEN - Wildcard
Did I promise something with Chris and forget it? It happens, my brain is a garbage fire. Feel free to toss anything at us here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Everyone's above First Aid when he's sitting down. That's why he does it, so they don't feel like he's looming over them. He doesn't mind looking up.

"She didn't even mention that issue," he says with an exasperated sigh. "Poor thing...I don't understand what Mortanne was thinking at all." And he does not approve of her design decisions.

"She came by the clinic today -- somebody told her I was a mechanic." Which he's also annoyed about, but not with Vika. It's not her fault somebody used the wrong word. "But she wouldn't let me help her. You know that rattle in her voicebox that makes her stutter all the time? I could fix that in less than ten minutes if she'd just let me open her plating. But she said no."

When First Aid mentions being called a mechanic, Chris pats him on the knee. They know he doesn't like that, and it was a particular point of contention in the argument with Hawkeye.

"I know you want to help her, Aidie. I do too." Chris says quietly, "When I saw her at the Oak and Iron, staring at her wind-up key... there was part of me that wanted to either take her back to the clinic or come grab you to go to her. So that we could help her... get better. Be well."

"It's for the best that you didn't," he sighs. "It doesn't matter who she accepts help from, as long as she's getting. I just wish I could convince her that she doesn't need to be so suspicious of me...I know I'm taking it too personally."

He sighs, staring at the floor. "I've had more interpersonal issues in the last three weeks than I had in the last twenty years," he mutters. "The trauma excuse is starting to wear a little thin."

Chris sighs. "Yeah... trying to make Vika get these repairs isn't going to help on the matter of suspicion versus trust. That's why I only... offered to help her, and used the key to wind her mechanisms in the privacy of her room."

Chris keeps their hand on First Aid's knee. "Do you want to talk about it? Why you take Vika's reticence personally, and the issues you've been having lately? I mean, I know about you and Dr. Pierce, but I'm blanking on the others."

"Ugh...I don't want to, but..." First Aid rubs his own face. "I guess I'd better. Where should I start?"

"Next incident after Hawkeye? And work through it chronologically. Or, uh..." little cough from Chris, as they try to suppress a laugh that might not go over well at the moment. "Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end: then stop."

Hey, it works: First Aid giggles quietly, giving Chris a grateful look. "The next incident? That would've been with Jean, when they came to the clinic for surgery." He sighs heavily. "Except, actually, the issues with Jean actually started before Doctor Pierce ever showed up. We had a disagreement in October, when they came to the clinic for a consultation." His voice quiets slightly as he reviews the memory files in question. "They seem to find some aspects of Cybertronian culture personally offensive. I'm not sure why. It's not as though I ever said our cultural mores apply to humans too."

Chris takes a sip from their glass. "We can be disturbed by what we hear others have gone through even if doesn't apply to us. Even things that seem normal to them... might not be an unalloyed good from an outside perspective."

Beat.

"I am curious, though. Jean casually mentioned organ harvesting. I have to imagine that's a thing that happens a lot in their world. What was so disturbing to them about Cybertronian culture?"

Chris reflects that they personally don't know much about that subject. Most of Chris's lessons have been focused on Cybertronian bodies (for First Aid's care in case he gets sick) and not on the larger society.

"Organ harvesting -- never mind, not the point." God. How can they spare the emotional bandwidth to get upset about anything in First Aid's life when they're used to deal with that? It makes no sense.

"I was explaining how new Cybertronians are usually commissioned when a specific job or task opens up, and it's the responsibility of their employer to make sure they settle into society," he explains, without a single trace of irony. "They got upset and asked me if I'd been built with my job in mind, and of course I said yes. They seemed to think that should bother me for some reason." He shrugs helplessly. "I know that the freedom to choose your own occupation is important to humans -- the right to choose a different job if you're not suited to your first one is important to us too -- but we aren't the same species. We aren't even made of the same materials. Wouldn't it be strange if we all valued exactly the same things, socially...?"

"Mm-hm, something to the effect of 'you couldn't get me into a soundproofed room'..."

Chris considers First Aid's explanation. And they answer the question first, "Perhaps it would be strange. Social constructs and values vary even between different societies for the same species." They sort of... contemplate the contents of their glass for a moment.

"But... you were commissioned for a specific job. And based solely on who helped create you, you've been promoted into a position that you don't even like. And I know that bothers you."

That has some...truly disturbing implications. First Aid even feels a trifle nauseated, for moment, and shuts off the flow of liquid into his tank until it's passed. "And to think," he murmurs quietly, "they got so angry when I said anything negative about their home..." He doesn't understand it at all.

In this context, the reminder of his own personal issues feels rather pointed, whether Chris meant it that way or not. "That's different," he says quickly, and then with a wince adds, "Isn't it? There are only so many people who can do that job to begin with, and...it is a necessary job. I've never tried to argue that, I don't think."

Chris just hums an acknowledgement to First Aid's words about Jean's reaction, and takes a slow sip.

"Is it? We have doctor shortages back home, you know. Not enough people can afford all the tuition for all the levels of education required, even when they want to be doctors. So there's rarely anyone there to replace the doctors who retire." Chris sighs. "But your people... if they need a doctor -- or a warrior, or a scientist, or any other job filled -- they just... build a person to fill it. How many millions of years was Ratchet older than Hoist? Why aren't there more doctors?"

And there it is. First Aid lets his head thunk gently back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as he says, "I've tried to avoid talking about the war...honestly, I've been trying to pretend it doesn't exist. There aren't any Decepticons here, after all, and if the goddesses are wise there never will be. It's been so easy to just focus on the here and now, and not what's waiting for me back home...but I can't really answer that question in a way that makes sense without admitting that, yeah, my entire species has been stuck in a destructive civil war for the last ten million years."

He looks over at Chris, voice anxious and sad as he adds, "Please don't think less of me."

Edited 2023-11-26 07:37 (UTC)

Chris blinks at First Aid, blue eyes wide and confused. "Why would I think less of you for a war that you were born into? I don't think any less of Rick for fighting the war in Afghanistan even if it started long before he joined up."

They drain their cup and then scoot over on the rug to be closer to First Aid.

"If anything, I think some of your people in command need some percussive maitenance--" Chris mimes the motion of a 'dope slap' at about the level of their own head, but not touching either themself or First Aid, "because who commissions a shitload of soldiers without adequate support staff?"

"Well, that's kind of the problem," First Aid says sadly. He raises his hand, hovering uncertainly for a moment before settling it around Chris. "Okay?" he asks hopefully. He'll take his hand away if they're not up for it, but the physical contact...it really does help.

"There used to be more doctors, but the Decepticons...they don't have any concept of limits in warfare. Mind control, torture, bombing civilian targets...it's all just tactics to them. What will cause the most destruction and demoralize the enemy. It's not even just about winning to them; they want to wipe us Autobots out completely, or turn us all into more Decepticons. That's how they got their top surgeon, Hook of the Constructicons. He used to be one of the best civilian engineers on Cybertron, until Megatron brainwashed him and the rest of his team. Now they make weapons and armored bases, when they're not smashing human cities to bits."

He shudders with a soft chime of metal on metal. "It's disgusting to me, that members of my own species are capable of so much destruction. That we brought so much death to Earth...the Decepticons did the actual killing, but they only succeeded because we Autobots failed to stop them. And because we brought them to Earth by mistake."

Chris leans in when First Aid lets his hand settle. "All good," they respond softly.

"Humans are plenty capable of terrible things in warfare. We have the rules of armed conflict set out in the Geneva Convention, but that was set up in 1949. And even then, you hear of humans who don't respect the rules about the treatment of non-combatants as long as they think they can get away with it. It is disgusting, and it's horrible that your enemy has no limits. But they're not the only ones."

Chris lapses into quiet thought for a moment. "Do you know much about the history of the United States, Aidie? I promise this is on topic."

"I know a little bit," First Aid says softly. "What is it you want to tell me about?"

"You know that it's all stolen land? That it was built on the bones of repeated genocide, and white people like me have repeatedly benefited from treating other races like garbage. Even though race is... basically a made up concept. They tried to wipe out whole civilizations that were already here just because the natives were 'in the way'. They treated other human beings like livestock because they believed those people were 'lower' than them."

Chris gives a frustrated sigh.

"The Cybertronians don't have the market cornered on doing horrible shit. Death and violence happen during first contacts, especially when one side is convinced of its superiority. It's not your fault. If you wouldn't judge me based on what my people have done in the past, centuries before I was ever born, why do you think that I would judge you for what your people did long before you were built? Or maybe..."

Sometimes you have to hurt to heal.

"Maybe you just think humans aren't as capable of reasoning as your people are. We're all just stupid primates living our brief little lives, so of course we couldn't understand. We'd just make snap decisions based on our stupid human emotions, right?"

But your species is so much younger than ours, First Aid had been about to say. You're only one hundred and sixty thousand years old, you've only had a recorded history for six thousand years...we've had nearly twelve million to try and get it right. Shouldn't we be...

Shouldn't they be...better?

And then Chris calls them out for it, as suddenly and swiftly as if they'd pulled the thoughts right out of his head. First Aid flinches back, staring. "Chris," he finally says slowly, "I have never meant to imply that humans are less capable of reasoning than we are. It simply isn't true. And Cybertronians aren't bastions of morality either. We can be overcome by our own emotions just as well as any organic."

Chris looks up into First Aid's face. They are sad for him, sad to hurt him, and they think this next question might.

"Even if you never meant to imply that your people are better, are you sure that you haven't? With Jean, with Dr. Pierce, with Vika?"

"I..."

First Aid hesitates. His first instinct is to say no, of course he hasn't. He would never.

But is it true? Can he really be sure that it's absolutely, conclusively true?

"Did any of them say something to you?" is what he asks instead.

Chris stays close. They pat First Aid's knee.

"No, they haven't. But there's a feeling I get... sometimes, when you're talking about how the Cybertronians do things. Like maybe you're thinking 'of course that's the way, it's been done that way forever', and... it's not a good feeling. So I wonder if maybe that feeling happens with others, and well... they don't know you like I know you."

Wait, they don't love you like I love you...
I'm gonna have a drink and walk around, I got a lot to think about
I'll take the burden if you need, and I'll spill my guts if you follow my lead

You mean they're not as willing to forgive me as you are, First Aid thinks, and hangs his head.

"I didn't know," he says quietly. "And I really, I promise I really didn't mean to...I'm sorry for making you feel that way."

After a moment he adds, feeling himself to be rather pathetic for even asking, "Do you think it's too late to fix things...?"

"I know you didn't mean to do it. And I forgive you."

Chris thinks over that question seriously before answering. "I think... you can fix your side of things. And when people see the change in you, hopefully they'll change how they react. I wouldn't call it 'too late' at all." Chris smiles, rather wryly, "But you did cross some of the more grumpy and stubborn folks, you know."

"I really did, huh..." Doubling down like with Dr Pierce was absolutely the wrong thing to do, he knew that even as he was doing it -- he was just too angry to care. But Jean and Vika...was he too pushy? To sure that he knew exactly what they needed, and too inflexible when their opinions differed? When did I turn into someone who just bosses people around without caring about what they want?

"With the Autobots, there's no choice but to get along with each other," he admits. "Especially after we woke up on Earth, Ratchet never let the troops pick favorites. If they wanted to be fixed, they had to come to whoever was on duty...and nobody wanted to be caught half-repaired the next time there was a Decepticon attack. Have I really been acting like that was still how things were this whole time? That people would just...have no choice but to go along with whatever I thought was best? That's awful."

Edited 2023-11-26 10:10 (UTC)

I think you ought to walk with me and be safe [November Open]

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