Logs:Bedside Manner

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Content Warning

Discussion of medical bedside manner.

Cast

Petra Fichette and Spider as Ari and Cedric Block

Setting
Log

It's a sweaty Summer day, but it's not that bad in the Spring Hollow -- perhaps not surprisingly, the Spring Monarch has taken the time to spin the temperature a few degrees cooler (yes, you can do that), and provide heavy grape-leaf overhang outside their own little cottage. They lean back in their rocking chair, a metal bucket full of ice stocked with glass-bottle Coke and Sprite sitting next to them, and an open Coke for them on the side table. Ari's wearing a plain blue t-shirt, cargo shorts, and TEVA sandals. Very casual.

The other chair on Ari's little porch contains another familiar Spring figure -- Cedric's shaggy hair isn't slicked back today, and he's wearing a t-shirt that says TARGETED T-SHIRT TEXT SPECIFIC TO MY MONTH AND STATE OF BIRTH with a pair of cut-off jeans as shorts, and his feet are bare. He's drinking a Sprite, and whatever he just said made Ari chuckle as they rock slowly.

Petra had been busy lately, both in her mundane job and as a Healer patching people up after the battle with the roots. Her mantle had grown too, as she delved wholeheartedly into doing what she did best. She was happy lately, and pleasantly tired asshe made her way into the Spring hollow to relax. She breathed easier in the Springy temperature and broke into a broad smile to see Cedric and Ari there. "Evening!" She called over.

The Spring Crown raises their bottle in salute from across the Freehold -- there's a subtle squeak of stone on glass at the gesture -- and they make a summoning gesture with one hand. Her happiness draws a small smile up to their face, but it's Cedric who calls out, "Come on over, kid. You look good!"

"Thanks." Petra came over and with a little frown of concentration spun up a chair of her own, and spun it around to sit backwards. She relaxed, fluffing out and then resettling her wings behind her. "What are you two drinking? Anything good?"

"Just soda," Cedric answers, nudging the ice bucket toward her with a toe. "Rumor has it one of our number went dry recently, so we figured if we were sitting in public, it'd be nice of us to stick to soda." His shoulders rise and fall affably as Ari nods along. "Need me to scoot?" he asks, casting a glance toward the green marble monarch as he scratches the underside of his bearded chin absently.

"Better for our livers anyways," Petra said with a smirk, and snagged a can. "Don't leave on my account." She arched an eyebrow at Ari. "Unless you've taken up birding and wanted to talk to me about something private?"

"It was Cedric's idea," Ari adds, after a moment. "For proper credit." Cedric huffs slightly and shrugs his shoulder. "Just logical," he offers. "And like the kid says, better for our livers, anyway."

"Mmm, no, I don't think so, my Friday nights are spoken for, as, I think, are yours," the Spring Monarch answers with a very subtle amused curl to their lips. "Haven't seen you since the season changed. How are you holding up?"

"Kid," she snorted. "I know ages are a funny thing around here and my facial moisturizing routine is on point but I am almost 35 no matter how you want to spin the numbers. And I'm doing great. Helping out up at Old Iron was fun, got to make some good connections with Spring up there, and had plenty of Summers to berate about proper wound after care around here! It's been nice, actually."(edited)

"You still look an age younger than me." This rebuttal from Cedric has no real teeth, and he settles back in his rocking chair, offering her an affable and lazy smile. "Oh yeah? Who'd you meet up with up at Old Iron?"

There's a brief flicker across Ari's face at mention of Old Iron. "I've been thinking we might want to take a second visit up there, meet up with their Springs, perhaps, at some point. The loss of a Monarch is -- deeply troubling, and expecting all their Springs to carry the psychic weight there -- but at the same time, I'd never want to imply their Court can't handle it." They take another swallow from their bottle of Coke, and then slowly swish the liquid around. "Proper wound care is often a -- thing we have to scold Summer about, it's true."

"Worked with Frey- one of their healers- a fair bit. Got him a set of useful medical text books I've used too. Good ones that explain things clearly and have good illustrations. And had the chance to work with Queen Astoria, when the freehold got attacked up there too. Not much socializing there but she's quite competent. I think we've got better Healers here to be honest. More of us, and more knowledge on the basics at any rate. Can't rely on magic alone, too easy to burn out with exhaustion and run out of glamour."

Both of the higher-ranked Summers nod along, thoughtfully so, and Ari comments, "She is extremely competent, yes. And that's a good tack to take -- making sure they've got non-magical skills to fall back on is the best way to make sure that our people stay alive." And then they tip their head to the side just a bit, rocking slowly. "How are you holding up? Having to navigate a Freehold which has just lost its Crown sounds -- tricky, at best." That's one way to put it.

She shrugged. "I met Nick, first time we went to there. He was cool, welcoming and level headed." Petra sighed and took a drink as she gathered her thoughts. "His loss was horrific. I put Enyo back together. They were pretty torn up in the fight, but they're holding it together now, and they listened to is when we asked them not to do anything stupid. I feel bad for them all up there but not much I can do now, you know? Life goes on. I've got a boyfriend, a job I love, my motley, and the freehold."

Cedric frowns and hides that frown in taking a swallow of his soda. He doesn't say anything for a bit, and neither does Ari -- they just let Petra's words have their own space, their own existence, without them needing to comment or rush in with something to fill the silence. "Do you feel like you can't do anything, do you feel like you're not supposed to do anything, like it would be improper?" Ari finally says.

She frowned and leaned forward to study the pair. "What are you getting at? Because I can't save Nick from Arcadia. What could I do? I'm a Healer, a paramedic. I fix broken bones and muscles, not hearts and minds."

"I'm not actually implying anything." Here's where Ari leans forward, in a sort of reflection of her gesture, and rests their forearms on their knees, mostly-empty bottle dangling from their stone fingers. "I was attempting to sort out what you feel. Sometimes what we say is not always what we really feel, or we feel constrained. And -- " they gesture with their bottle " -- healing hearts and minds is a part of the job. The damage we can sustain to our minds can kill us as surely as the damage we sustain to our bodies."

"But that answers one of my other questions -- why someone whose connection to Spring is so obviously strong has stayed a Page for so long." One of their eyebrows arches up, and Cedric? He stays quiet, now.

"Technically the hearts and minds thing is a different field. Psychiatry and psychology. I don't actually know any of the Contacts to help with Clarity issues." Petra smiled faintly. "As for staying a Page, isn't that more up to you than me? You can give me a fancy title if you'd like. It's not like I've let the title of Page limit how I serve. Isn't the job to help out where we can?"(edited)

They finish their soda, and reach for another one. "Mortal minds may think that way, that's true," Ari answers, twisting the top off of the glass bottle. It screeches a little -- stone against glass -- and they take a swallow. "But humans don't die because they find out that something they've based their lives on is wrong, or fall into comas because they were put into an impossible situation by an Oath or realize that they've allowed others to come to harm by commission or omission. To attend to the health of our people -- to truly call yourself a healer of our kind -- requires a broader skillset. Which is not to say that you're not a healer -- only that there is opportunity for you to learn more, and become more skilled, gain other abilities, save lives in ways you could not."

They pause, and here Cedric points out, "We're not much for fancy titles without actual, you know, jobs. The question is really 'are you ready to take on more responsibility' than 'is someone going to give you a shiny hat.' Next step up is Joyeux, which, I think, is kind of where the shiniest of hats was leading."

Petra made a face at Cedric. "Have I asked for a fancy title, or have I been putting in the work I know how to do? I've also been really busy keeping people alive physically, and mastering the contracts that allowed me to do that. I'm certainly not adverse to learning the contracts to help people with their Clarity issues but I haven't gotten there yet. I'm always learning." Petra grimaced. "I get that Joyeux is traditionally the next shiny hat up from Page but I've never felt comfortable with it, any more than I feel comfortable practicing any sort of traditional bedside manner."

"No one has said that your work is unacceptable, nor that you are incompetent." A small, slow smile spreads its way across Ari's face. "I had a similar conversation with Jack Martingale, not too many weeks ago. It's probably longer ago than I feel like it is," they offer thoughtfully. "He protested that he couldn't become a Joyeux, because he wasn't comfortable with it. And to him I said, doesn't that tell you that this is an opportunity for you to develop a new skillset?" One stone eyebrow rises. "The bedside manner comment is an interesting one. But. No one is telling you that you must become a Joyeux."

When the Crown talks, Cedric falls quiet, finishing off his soda and picking up the empties, standing up to set them near the door to be carried in later before snagging a second soda for himself and sitting back down with a very middle-aged grunt.

"We also have a bunch of Joyeux," Petra pointed out reasonably. "And they do a great job of it. It's an important role, even if I don't really have a Desire to do that kind of job. Do you really want me to work on the skills that will give me the exact same skillset that they already have, only worse? I like healing the body. I like sewing in stitches and piling guts back where they belong before calling on Spring to Heal up the wound better than the top mortal surgeons can do. It's very satisfying and personally rewarding." Petra ran a hand through her feathers. "Minds are harder. People- even fae with weird as hell physiology are built very much the same for the most part. Black, white, green, doesn't matter. But our brains are fucked up places, and I do not get people. I like individuals. Hell, I deeply love individuals. But I don't particularly like people as a group," she admitted. "I don't do well with them."

"And in due course, I expect those Joyeux will move on from being Joyeux to other jobs, which will leave us with a dearth of them," Ari answers mildly, and gently. "You don't need to become a Joyeux. But the reason why Joyeux is the path to other positions within the Court is because all of those jobs, in one form or another, involve dealing with people. So understanding how they work is the way to be effective as a Claviger, so you can better predict when someone may become violent, or deescalate rather than escalate as our friends in Summer do, or ... well, all of the other jobs are pretty clearly dealing with people, either individually or as a group."

"You can stay a Page," Cedric chimes in, rolling his shoulders lazily.

"You could recognize other types of jobs too," Petra countered a bit waspishly. "I realize we're stereotypically the party people court of socially adept people peopleing, but I did that once upon a time and only succeeded at being secretly unhappy and making other people unhappy, which only made me more unhappy until I ran away from that entire situation. I don't particularly care about having the fancy hat. Being a Page is fine." Her shoulders hunched in, wings curving around her slightly. She didn't really like thinking about her time in Dover.(edited)

There's a very long silence, and then Ari leans forward again, resting their forearms on their knees. "If you would like to pitch a specific job role or title for those who are invested in healing the body instead of the soul, that is an option I might be willing to approach. However, the means in which you have approached this seems, to me, to only prove that people skills are necessary for healers, and that advancing in Spring requires at least a modicum of soft skills, being able to deal with your patients." Ari's black eyes swing over to the bird. "You have not proven the point, I think, that you wished to prove; you have rather done the opposite." They tap their stone fingers against the glass. "Your work is exemplary; I would not be asking about your plans for advancement if that were not the case. But to snipe at your Crown about not getting the right kind of title without asking for it -- when everyone else in the court speaks up for their own advancement -- and then snap at me that we're not recognizing all the proper types of jobs... it kind of reinforces the idea that you might need to consider how your words land. No one's expecting you to throw parties, Petra. Only to be able to convey your ideas with a modicum of grace, and have a little insight into the feelings of others -- both of which are necessary skills for physical healers."

"So if what you're asking is for me to allow you to bypass the path which I've required of every other Spring, you have not managed to convince me at this time. If what you're asking is for acknowledgement as a healer, I wouldn't be having this conversation with you if I didn't know you were doing more than the average Page."

Petra's dark eyes widened and she shifted her wings back so they were slicked smoothly down her back. "Stars above, this isn't about a title for me, Ari! I only want to help people, to fix them when they're broken! If you want me to do something, just tell me what you want me to do!" She rubbed at her arms uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not better at this."

Cedric rubs a hand over his face, rasping the calluses on his palm against his tusks. "I think they just did, kiddo," he offers quietly, thoughtfully, and looks down at his hands. Subtle inkstains form themselves into words under the surface of his vellum-colored skin, floating in and out of being.

"There's nothing wrong with not being good at something," Ari sighs quietly. "There are plenty of things I'm not good at. You're doing good things as a Page, so if it's not about a title, then ... okay?"