A Reluctant Physician [Ended]

[Travesty]

“Sir?” The hound implored to the strange creature who was peering out one of the immense bay windows overlooking the dramatic scenery. The Five of Spades had never seen anyone like this before; the ferret was definitely not traditional Court material. He seemed lost in his own world and every few minutes his spine or neck would convulse in a small spasm that he didn’t appear to notice at all. The hound wondered if it was neurological or just a habit…but he certainly wasn’t going to ask. The sight of those needles, whose contents he didn’t even try to guess, hanging off his skin was enough to silence any unnecessary conversation.

Ambrose jerked away from the windowpane with a start. He wasn’t used to being called sir; the word sounded odd and superfluous on the servant’s tongue. He had just become an Eight very recently, and while that wasn’t very high up on the food chain – especially here at Court – he hadn’t expected to rise so fast. And now here he was, being led to meet the Queen of Spades herself!

He didn’t know the etiquette, of course. How could he? He spent all his time in his lab, only rarely venturing out of Corvistowne. No doubt he’d be too erratic, too twitchy. Hell, he didn’t even know why he was here exactly. Obviously someone had gotten hurt, but could that someone possibly be the Queen? He couldn’t believe he’d be so unfortunate; his first visit to Court, and he would be expected to heal not just a Queen, but the Queen!

“Oh, just kill me now,” Ambrose muttered under his breath. The muscle under his shoulder twitched in response.

“Excuse me?” The hound questioned, trying to keep his gaze focused on the ferret’s lilac eyes and not on either the twitch or the truly frightening needles.

“Lead the way,” Ambrose replied, his voice dripping with faux enthusiasm.

The route was unmercifully short and after twisting down a few corridors and weaving through a band of courtiers they were right in front of a grand, intimidating door. The hound slipped in to announce him, giving Ambrose just enough time to realize what a disaster this was going to be.

[The Jenn]

Donnie slowly raised her arms above her head in a stretch, the muscles on her biped form pulling and aching from their rough treatment a few months back. Everything had been 'working fine' with her arms and back, but ever since she'd had that hideous binding removed - Lysaras's lovely parting gift - she'd been paranoid about muscle damage to her forearms and back. Those had been thick, heavy, nasty rings holding the metal wires into her flesh, and she could still feel a certain tightness when she twisted. It was probably only scars and residual healing, but she couldn't be sure.

She'd gotten recommendations from the Corvie who treated her on a muscle specialist, someone who had made a name for himself in the area and could be trusted to give a professional opinion. For all that she didn't relish the idea of a male doctor looking her over, at the same time, she wasn't about to let that prejudice get in the way of her health. Hell no.

"Enter," she called, still wearing her biped form. It would be annoying to have to change from one to the other in front of this man, and she wasn't about to reveal her bare human skin to some stranger.

[Travesty]

All too soon the hound slid back through the door and motioned for the ferret to enter just as an imperious voice beckoned him. Ambrose took one rattling breath in an attempt to rein in his spasms, and made sure his eyes betrayed nothing, keeping the same, apathetic gaze that had served him so well in the past.

“Your Majesty,” he said stiffly, bowing as he entered the room. His eyes flicked upward with a negligible amount of interest. She was how he believed all Queens to be: formidable and assuredly powerful. In all honesty he would’ve been surprised to face anything less, although the fact she was in her biped form was slightly unnerving. “It’s an honor.” He was, despite his lack of enthusiasm, very aware that being called to treat the Queen meant that he was the best in his field.

He couldn't help feeling incredibly stilted standing in front of the doorway.

[The Jenn]

The syringes hanging from the mustelid's frame here horribly unnerving. Donnie found herself staring at first, but quickly toned the expression down to something less rude and more curious. Corvies were just weird sometimes. The bland, toneless quality to his voice as he greeted her was also off-putting. Perhaps that was his professional bearing?

Even more creepy. "You are Ambrose, then? My last doctor recommended you specifically when I expressed concern as to my healing process. He said that you were something of an expert with muscle structure and development. Please, come in."

She waited for him to enter and close the door behind him, and then stood, significantly taller than his animal form with her bulk. She took a few steps closer and rotated one of the chairs that normally sat in front of her desk to face the other chair likewise positioned. "Are you at all familiar with my predicament upon taking the throne, sir?" Don't let the creepy syringes get to you...

[Travesty]

Ambrose was well accustomed to the stare The Queen was giving him, it was to be expected and didn’t bother him. In actuality he found it amusing and a little surprising that someone in her position could be spooked by anything, let alone an Eight that by Corvie standards was only a little stranger than the norm.

He tilted his head, the briefest smile alighting on his face. It was always nice to know one’s skills weren’t going unnoticed. “That is my main area of practice, yes,” he acknowledged as he entered. He was also something of a dabbler in analgesics, but at the moment that didn’t seem pertinent.

The ferret felt his Cheshire Cat grin spreading across his face. “I rarely stray from Corvistowne, and as a result I know very little about Court politics,” he explained with a shrug. “I heard second-hand gossip of a...conflict, and now I know its resolution.” A muscle in his cheek twitched. “But of the particulars I am ignorant, Your Majesty.”

[The Jenn]

The overly wide grin and twitching facial muscle weren't exactly comforting for Donnie's initial reaction to the man. All the same, if he proved to be one of the most competent practitioners in the field, she was willing to go out on a limb and trust him with her person for a little while if he could determine what, if anything, was wrong with her back and forearms. She just wasn't thrilled about his... mannerisms.

"Yes, the result being that the Court is trying to limp its way back to respectability," she agreed with an acerbic edge to her tone, more at the past and the problems she was dealing with than the man in front of her. "On her way out, however, the old Queen decided to present me with a hideously irritating and painful parting gift. You're aware that the woman was a Torquehelm? Well, she had apparently been working on a spell that inflicted the region's bindings on its victim. Permanently. I was forced to have the offending objects surgically removed and now I'm dealing with the lingering pain and scarring as a result."

Her clawed fingers tapped against one another in front of her. "Which brings me to your summons. Are you willing to perform an examination of the area in exchange for a fee by the hour for your services?"

[Travesty]

ooc: I'm sorry to take so long. <333 Unavoidable dilemmas.

Well, that was good. Ambrose wasn’t exactly up-to-date with Court affairs – most patients didn’t even give a name, let alone spend time gossiping – but he did know that the Court of Spades had fallen even farther in reputation, so much so that even some Clubs believed themselves to be higher than the Paw. The ferret card little about that inane sort of talk, but all the same it was nice knowing someone like this would be running the show.

He had to work very, very hard to keep the manic glee from flashing across his face. Who could blame him? He was a Corvie after all, and Torquehelm bindings had always fascinated him, probably because the opportunities to study their mechanisms were few. Torques were odd (which meant a lot, coming from him) and were very touchy about their bindings, citing some strange cultural ritual, and they weren’t too keen on having anyone inspect them. This was a tempting offer that he didn’t have the heart to pass up.

“I see,” he said cheerfully, his vertebrae tingling in anticipation. He only wished that he had been called in earlier to take part in the operation. “Of course, Your Majesty.” He’d agree to anything to increase his depth of knowledge. “Where is the area in question?” Immediately his tone became less empty and more professional and his eyes looked a little brighter, as if he was reanimated.

[The Jenn]

Donnie watched the man with a touch of mistrust, but his switch to professionalism put her slightly more at ease. Maybe he was just uncomfortable and twitchy about meeting royalty and more comfortable when on the job? That would explain the quick transition in moods. Hopefully he would live up to the reputation that had been given him.

”The binding was a very painful constriction of the arms that involved heavy metal rings through my forearms and back, close to but thankfully not touching the spine. They were connected by tight wire ropes that kept the arms at an awkward and unnatural position parallel with the spine.” That was how her initial doctor had explained the situation, and enough people had witnessed the bindings before she had them removed to confirm.

She stood, looming over his animal form for a second. Her posture very clearly said “don’t fuck with me” as she slowly moved around to the front of her desk and sat down on the floor with her back to him. It made her skin crawl a little bit, the vulnerability of the position, but she didn’t say anything. The scars would be clearly visible in two columns down her back. Fur would never grow back naturally where they had been anchored, though her forearms looked to be more lucky.

[Travesty]

Yes, Ambrose could almost be considered pleasant when he was working. Even though his subject was the Queen of Spades, in the end she was made of muscle and sinew just like him, the only difference was the drastic difference in the marks on their chests. And of course there was the fact that she could, if she felt the need, rip him limb from limb. The ferret was confidence enough in his abilities to be unfazed by the thought.

“Ah,” he exclaimed as she explained her predicament. There really wasn’t too much more he could say – he was already forming theories on the reasons for her discomfort, but without studying the area in question his ideas were pretty elementary.

Oh, c’mon. Talk about being nervy, and this was him talking. He supposed being from the Gardens had something to do with it, that and her natural need to make it known she was the ‘top dog’ or whatever. He wasn’t much of a psychiatrist; he just found it oddly amusing.

Hm…but wasn’t that interesting. “Most of the damage is what I’m sure you’ve expected – scar tissue and healing muscles – but I’m feeling an unusual swelling in the inner trapezius muscle region,” he murmured, methodically tracing his hands down the area near her shoulder blades. “Have you been feeling any particular pain there, Your Majesty?” He asked, brow furrowing as he debated possible reasons for this strange symptom.

[The Jenn]

It was one thing to deal with men professionally on a regular basis, but it was another to have them prodding around her person. Donnie had acted the same way around the pain and lingering anger and adrenalin from the fight towards the doctors who had tended her then and since. She kept a watchful eye on the ferret, trying not to fidget as he examined her.

She wasn't entirely sure where the 'inner trapezius muscle region' was until she felt his paws near the area. For a moment, she looked startled. "Now that you mention it, I have been noticing some in that area specifically. Whenever I try to stretch after sitting too long in front of paperwork, it makes itself pretty well known, but I forget where exactly it hurt by the time my appointment with the doctor rolled around. What does it mean?"

She was learning a lot about politics and managing the complex network of the Court, but she'd never been particularly knowledgeable with regards to medicine or anatomy beyond common knowledge and what she'd learned in school.