Sometimes I stare out of the window and think about how lucky I am...

[theresalwaystheview]

Who: Bart Torgal and...you?
What: Seasonal log, as he attempts to earn enough money for a vessel
When: Mid-spring through event times
Where: Watson's clinic, Bart's lab
Warnings: General warning for poorly-dealt-with mental health themes, will update as necessary


Bart's winter had been bad. Terrible, really. For every ounce of progress he made, there was some kind of setback. Something that crippled him in his research or his attempts at having anything resembling a social life. He feels more alone than ever, even with the knowledge that there are people that at the very least think well of him. But what did that matter, really, when he's opted not to show his face out in the world unless it was for work?

1. The Clinic
From the moment that he knew he was good for something around here, he'd put himself to work on it. Working intake at John Watson's clinic, he'd been updating paperwork and helping to educate the doctor on updated medical techniques and information, knowing that if he had the common knowledge behind him of an additional couple of centuries of advancement, then who would he be to keep it to himself? So he was careful to pass on everything that he knew, and make all of his research available to the staff both here, and at Winterbottom's clinic closer to the center of town.

A handmade wooden sign with a slider that denotes when the clinic is open indicates that they are seeing patients. Walking into the clinic, you will see him sitting behind a desk, writing or occasionally drawing, filling out page upon page of notes from loose sheets. There are pamphlets, printed on thick card paper and folded neatly, for newcomers to peruse so that they had a better idea of how to approach an appointment. In an emergency, the boy is cool-headed, his manner and way of speaking incredibly gentle.

"Welcome to the clinic of Doctor John Watson, what can we do for you?"

2. The Lab
When not at the clinic, Bart is at home. Those that have known him for a while know that he's been working nonstop to turn part of his home into a proper laboratory for the production of everything from batteries to make the radio project by Tarantulas viable in the long term, to assisting in the production of penicillin from the samples that he'd been getting from the various farms around the island. The latter is at least coming along better, as materials to fabricate long-lasting, rechargeable batteries that wouldn't degrade into physical hazards is somewhat beyond his means just now.

When at home, he works late into the night, his lamps lit until the wee hours. He doesn't associate much with the people outside of his research, a long-standing habit that he has yet to curtail as he remains nervous about getting close to anyone at all.

A visitor will have to knock loudly, or find a window of his lab to tap on if they want his attention while he's wrist-deep in a production cycle for an antibiotic that he's attempting to prepare for proper in-vivo testing. He's going to look poorly slept, somewhat haunted, ragged around the edges like a college student studying for finals. There are samples absolutely everywhere, from the island, from the ocean, and from the outer edges of the entrance of Hepogaia.

Wildcard
Bart can also be found in fits and starts out in the forest, or down at the beach, pursuing lines of inquiry and writing in blank notebooks that rapidly fill with small handwriting and sketches that look more akin to diagrams than regular art. He's not an artist after all, just desperate to remember as much as possible, with an eye for details and an almost pathological need to put everything down accurately. Speaking up without letting him see you coming will make him jump. Sorry.

Comments

Wildcard - the Woods

[maltesefalcon]

A shadow passes overhead, and then something large and dressed in a leather coat lands, perched on a branch above Bart's head, immediately beginning to preen his feathers rather than leaping into conversation.

[theresalwaystheview]

Seated between the thick roots of a tree, Bart is fairly easy to miss, with his notebook on his knees and his eyes down on the page. He freezes the moment a shadow larger than the normal forest birds passes over, pen ceasing its scribbling as he strains to listen. Branches rattle with the new weight settle on them, then still once more, and finally he looks up, and relaxes imperceptibly.

"Officer Cerrit."

[maltesefalcon]

"Didn't mean to startle you, Bart. How've you been?"

Dad bird is here to fuss and worry over his eyas. He's remaining in the tree--all the better to keep watch--for the moment.

[theresalwaystheview]

"Surviving," he replies wearily. He lays his own down in the middle of his notebook, his hands folding over the top of it. "You've been keeping busy lately, I take it." What with the new arrivals and all.

[maltesefalcon]

"I've gotten a new patrol partner, from the new arrivals. But you know, that doesn't mean I'm too busy if you need anything."

He made that mistake with his own kids, failing to see Kir reaching out, trying to be just like him. Failing to see Maya developing into her own person, her interest in history. He learned too late who the fledgelings he'd raised were.

He wouldn't let down the people he cared for here.

"You can always reach me by sending stone."

[theresalwaystheview]

"Oh, that's good...?" Is that good? He wants to hope that it is. Spreading the work around to more people would take the load off of the rest, wouldn't it?

"Yes," he replies quietly, unsure whether he should argue that he doesn't want to take any of Cerrit's time. He's not used to having such offers directed at him without some compensation expected in return. He doesn't know what he can give to Cerrit in return for his thoughtfulness.

[maltesefalcon]

Cerrit watches Bart quietly for a long moment, unsure what to make of that quiet, mild response. Is he coming on too strong? Being like an asshole, trying to dad too hard?

There's a balance in it all somewhere, and he has yet to find it.

"Sorry."

1

[pineapplesalmon]

César looks a bit surprised and then guilty when he realizes just how long he hasn't been in the office. He only went the one time to establish himself as a patient and then... never again. On a day off for Watson's assistant.

"I'm, ah. Here to update my records." He rubs the back of his neck. "Emergency contact and wanted to get some more recent vitals. César Salazar."

[theresalwaystheview]

It's a bit surprising that he hasn't had more people coming through to establish a primary care provider and get proper records in order, but then a gain, not everyone trusts medical professionals the way that he does.

When César comes into the office, he recognizes the man from having see him around town, though the two of them haven't spoken except in passing a time or two. He nods and bends to flip through the records filed neatly in the drawers at the side of the intake desk, pulling up the thin folder with César's name on it. "Of course, sir. If you like we can go ahead and get the updated contact information out of the way, and then we can go back to one of the open exam rooms."

[pineapplesalmon]

César being one of those that trusts medical professionals. He recognizes Bart, too. They haven't talked much. Man, he should've brought some food or something as a gift....

"Sounds good to me." César shrugs then rubs the back of his neck. "... I have someone to put there, now. Magne Hikiishi."

Little does he know that he's talking to Bart Torgal he's been told has a lab and also was the one Magne asked after once the phone call from Vika was done. César's been so damn busy with the farm and house, then his girlfriend, and also himself that he hadn't had the brain space to track him down to talk.

[theresalwaystheview]

Bart nods in acknowledgement and takes a pen to write down the name, blinking down at it with his expression otherwise carefully blank. He looks back up at César when it's done, leaving the space for her phone number open so that César can fill it in.

When it's all straightened out, the folder will be tucked under Bart's arm to carry with him. "If there are no other updates that you need to make, then please, follow me." He stands and gestures down the hall toward one of the examination rooms. He would be the one in charge of taking the basic vitals after all, making sure that all of the information is consistent across various forms, including a consent form to have blood drawn for more in-depth testing when he can send such samples off to the other clinic.

[pineapplesalmon]

César leans over and puts in the phone number for the Oak & Iron, saying to ask for her, completely not catching how Bart reacts to her name. "She's living where she works for now. It's convenient. And... just my own contact information. Here." He updates his own phone number to replace the Oak's, listing both the farm and house, as well as updating his occupation to be farmer.

A nod and César follows. "I want to make sure I'm doing all right after starting off farming so soon after the famine. I lost more weight than I'd like, and I was already underweight, but I'm gaining it back."

[theresalwaystheview]

Bart is patient, quiet as he waits for to finish filling in his paperwork, watching until it's done then leading the way back to the unoccupied room. It's clean, tidy, with a couple of hand-drawn anatomical posters that he had commissioned, himself with updated information that he himself had added. It helped to have a visual aid for some things, after all.

Removing his vest and rolling up his sleeves, Bart nods as he listens, retrieving a small rolling cart with a few simple pieces of equipment on it. He waits a moment for César to perch on the somewhat rickety table, then shakes out a glass thermometer that he places carefully under one arm while he runs cool, gloved fingers feeling just up under César's jaw. "It's understandable, I know none of us are quite back up to snuff after the winter came to such a rough end. At least most of us are determined to help get everyone back on their feet one way or another."

1 - Clinic

[lovinglefthand]

On an afternoon in the first week of April, First Aid shows up Watson's clinic in a state of high agitation. If Watson is present he'll get a polite greeting, but it's clear his attention is really focused on Bart.

"Can I talk to you?" he asks, voice thick with...some emotion that he's clearly working hard to suppress.

[theresalwaystheview]

With Watson otherwise occupied and the new doctor on staff seeing someone else, it's just Bart up front for the time being. He springs to attention when First Aid appears in such a state, gathering his agitation from the way he moves and the peculiar thickness in his voice. He wasn't aware that autobots had the necessary components for such things to be possible.

He blinks at the terse missive, pointing at himself as he gathers himself up a little better. "I...don't see why not."

[lovinglefthand]

Usually First Aid only lets Chris see him get this upset -- in fact, he's been careful, historically to keep as much of his negative emotions out of Bart's sight as he can. Maybe that's part of the problem.

"Thank you." Once they've somewhere a little more private, First Aid decides to get right to the chase. "Tarantulas came to talk to me just now. I know what he said to you, during Doctor Coldwood's mission." In his agitation, First Aid can't help but add, "He's banned from the clinic now, by the way."

[theresalwaystheview]

First Aid only now showing him that he's this legitimately upset, as opposed to any other time that it would have been appropriate to do so, is certainly throwing Bart for more of a loop than he would have expected. It's hard, and uncomfortable, but Bart is nothing if not willing to adapt if he can't just avoid the trouble entirely. And when it comes to First Aid, he doesn't want to avoid it. He wants to be able to help, because he believes that he can.

If First Aid lets him.

Bart closes the door of one of the exam rooms behind them, keenly aware of how little space there really is in the room when it wasn't modeled with someone First Aid's size in mind. He looks up at the other with a soft frown, which only intensifies when First Aid speaks up. His mouth opens, then closes again at the mention of Tarantulas being banned from Winterbottom Clinic.

"That seems harsh," he replies quietly. "Do you have the authority to do that? Have you spoken to Doctor Winterbottom?" Just, completely sidestepping the stabbing feeling in his chest over the whole ordeal starting to come to a head like this.

[lovinglefthand]

First Aid shakes his head slightly, but not in denial -- or at least, not in denial of Bart's question. "Agnes is retired," he explains. "We kept the name out of respect for her seniority, but she doesn't want anything to do with the day to day running of the clinic anymore. She barely even looked at our list of candidates, when Chris and I were talking about hiring new people."

He sighs heavily through his vents. "Is that really what you want to talk about right now? I was going to tell you that none of those horrible things he said to you are true."

[theresalwaystheview]

"I just know that sometimes even retired business over like to have a little bit of oversight in the goings-on of their prior positions," he starts, until First Aid gets to the heart of his concern immediately. It leaves Bart briefly speechless.

The declaration that everything Tarantulas had said to him was horrible seems like unnecessary hyperbole to him, but then again, he wasn't the injured party in this whole affair. At least, he wants to believe that he wasn't.

"...What did he tell you?"

1 - because he needs to fucking visit the clinic already

[iamthepyre]

After everything that had happened and talking with Magne, Dabi had decided it was about time he started looking into something to help with his scars. He had been directed the clinic as the best place and well, here he was. Hands stuffed in pockets and grumbling about doctors, with one short eggman looking mother fucker in mind, he walks in only to be greeted by...probably the most normal looking person he's met yet.

Sorry César you'd win that if what happened hadn't actually happened.

"Uh...I'm just looking for some burn cream? Got these here and they like to spread if I'm not careful." Reaching up he lightly taps at where some burns have started to creep over the line of staples, even more than when he had got there.

Clinic, hell, he needs a whole burn ward

[theresalwaystheview]

Bart straightens up in his seat with a welcoming smile, though it slides right off his face instantly as he takes in the sheer amount of damage to the man in front of him. His mouth opens as he tries to decide where to start when the first thing he wants to do is ask how the hell the guy is even moving when he's apparently held together by staples and a prayer.

"I think perhaps you might be in need of more than just burn cream, though it would certainly help to control some of the surface damage," he replies as evenly as he can manage, standing to retrieve a new folder and form to be filled out and filed away with the rest of the patient information here. He holds them out to Dabi from behind the counter. "If you wouldn't mind filling this out for me?"

It would give him time to dip into the back offices to consult with Doctor Watson and inform him that they would need to order a few things for a distressing new arrival.

you not wrong

[iamthepyre]

Dabi can't help the cheshire grin that pulls at staples when he sees the reaction on Bart's face. Yeah he's used to that.

"It's nothing I haven't lived with for years." Dabi calls after the guy as he looks down at the papers and starts jotting things down as best as he can. Which isn't very good. He can manage his name but a few other things...he knows the words it's just hard to write them. Well...César knew some Japanese...maybe someone else did too? Sure it's obvious to him that Bart isn't Japanese but he could hope for some similarities right? So he does his best and then answers some of the answers below his English answers in near perfect Japanese as well.

When Bart gets back he's passed a few papers and shrugs. "Sorry, writing isn't great..."

[theresalwaystheview]

"That doesn't necessarily make it better he points out as he re-emerges and waits for Dabi to finish his paperwork. A look over it tells him a lot less than he would hope. He wouldn't call it chickenscratch, but it certainly looks like the handwriting of someone that hasn't cared to learn how to properly form their letters. He can at least gather that using English letters isn't going to work well in general.

"Ah, no, don't worry about it, I'll just follow up on whatever needs to be rewritten for ease of copy for later," he assures Dabi, while moving to open the side of the counter to let Dabi in to follow after him. "Come, I would like to take your basic vitals and start to talk through a treatment plan, if you're looking to try and control this...whatever is actively happening to you."

[iamthepyre]

Shrugging, Dabi just follows the other back. Look, the guy is smart but he didn't finish middle school....sue him.

"Doubt there's much you can do about it. It's caused by my own quirk...sorry power. I kinda burn through my body when I use my fire." Hands stuffed in pockets again as he follows, sitting when he's instructed to and just staring up at the guy.

[theresalwaystheview]

Bart covers his horror at the idea that the man is literally burning from the inside out because of his powers, for the most part.

"So it may simply be a matter of management," he muses. "Still, it can't be comfortable, so I think after this the main goal will be improving your general quality of life. I can't imagine that it's particularly easy to move with that much scar tissue." After all, he can see that the dark stretches of burnt flesh extend into Dabi's clothes, and he can only guess how much further for now.

Dabi staring at him makes him squirm just a little bit, but only because he's just not used to being stared at in general. He notes absently that that shade of blue is both very uncommon in Japanese ancestry, and very pretty. The thought is pushed down and ignored as he collects his equipment to perform a proper checkup, from examining his ears (and noting the missing piercings as evident by the holes through them), and listening to his heart and breathing.

"Either you are very feverish, or you naturally run quite hot," he notes as he makes his own tidy notes for his initial file on Dabi. "Is this more of your ability?"