Inbox for Watson (Pumpkin Hollow)

[lightconductor]

Here you may contact Dr. John H. Watson, MD, late of Her Majesty's Army, with any professional or personal issues. He is available by phone, message, or just by dropping in on him at his clinic or his tenement flat.

The Clinic

Watson's clinic is a small building with a couple examination rooms and some beds, kept warm with a little iron stove in the front room. Pictures to come at some point.

The Flat

A short walk away from the clinic is Watson's small but cosy flat, on the second floor in a small tenement building.

The "sitting room" end of the main room
The kitchen, where the stove is the primary source of heat
Watson's desk
Watson's bedroom, alternate view

Comments

February 6th maybe, OFFICE HOURS

[pineapplesalmon]

RING RING.

César is polite enough to call ahead. "Hello, this is César Salazar. I'd like to join your practice as a patient."

[lightconductor]

"Oh? Certainly that's possible." Watson is not entirely practiced with telephones. There's a difference between knowing about a thing and having regular access to such a luxury -- and, in 1892, it is still something of a luxury for the very rich. Still, he's picking up the idea quickly enough. "Was there something in particular you wanted my attention for?"

[pineapplesalmon]

"No, other than I should have a general practitioner. I, ah, have a file started by First Aid and Chris Freeman, but I should explain in person why I'm not seeing them." César sounds a bit awkward on the phone; he's is going to have to mention he died, probably, maybe. "And mention a condition I'm getting continuing treatment for that isn't known in your time. But again, in person."

[lightconductor]

"Oh?"

Well, now he's interested, both from a standpoint of Local Gossip and also Professional Interest. He does, at least, have the sense to not sound too interested in a whole new medical condition. That would be unkind.

"Well, we can arrange a basic physical and you can tell me all about it, in person. Is there a time you'd prefer?"

[pineapplesalmon]

César snorts at the attempt to not be interested.

"Honestly, if you're available now, the weather has let up for a little while. It's been so unpredictable lately."

[lightconductor]

Oh, he tried. He really tried.

"I am free now. It's a quiet day in my clinic, at least."

[pineapplesalmon]

Sorry, César's too used to trying and failing himself, hence why it's funny. "Then I'll be over shortly."

After goodbyes, and true to his word, César is over shortly, folder in glove, and closes the door quickly behind him. "Good morning!"

[lightconductor]

"Come in, come in, out of the cold," Watson says, standing to greet him. "We can use this room, here, for some privacy." He opens a door, revealing a small examination room, comfortably furnished. He should hear the outer door from here, if anyone is to come in.

[pineapplesalmon]

"That would be great." César's going to tap out his boots on the doormat, then take them off and switch them for some shoes he carried in a bag (shhh, I just decided that). "I don't want to get anything on your floor."

He takes off his coat (which thankfully, it's his new coat so it has a hood) and puts it up on the coat rack, then follows Watson towards the exam room, his folder still in the bag.

[lightconductor]

"Oh, you needn't have bothered yourself," Watson says, but doesn't press. It's... eccentric, but it comes from a good place. He can see that.

The room has an examination table, as one might expect, but also there are chairs, and he gestures to one while he takes the other. "Have a seat, start at the beginning. I see you've come prepared."

[pineapplesalmon]

"It would bother me." César shrugs innocently.

"I wrote out an explanation of the two... well, one condition and one... it's not a condition. But you'll see what I mean when I explain them."

César grabs a chair, then turns it so he's sitting alongside Watson rather than across. He sits down and opens his file, handing it over. "The intake forms are from the other clinic. I've just added an additional few pages. One about my neurodevelopment disorder and the other about a technological infection I have. I've made copies to give all the other doctors and their assistants for the second. Because in the incredibly rare and awful chance the nanomachines inside me activate, I could turn into a rampaging... well, monster. That only resembles the concept of a person. Best to let all the doctors know about that. Best case scenario is that they only change me a little."

That's entirely too much talking, César.

[lightconductor]

Phrases like "neurodevelopment disorder" and "technological infection" fall into the category of things Watson can riddle out through context, and yet are entirely new combinations of words to him. He puts up his hands. "Hold on. One thing at a time."

That's quite a lot of information, and he pauses briefly, flipping through the file a little before he begins. "The... nanomachines, was it? This is the 'technological infection' you mean. Let's start there, please."

Because he's, you know, a doctor from a time where epidemics are a little more serious and 'infection' gets his attention quickly.

[pineapplesalmon]

"Nanites." César turns to the page about Nanites and gently taps it. "Read that. I can add more if necessary."

[lightconductor]

He reads through the information swiftly, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Very tiny machines that act independently," Watson says, thoughtful. "If they can affect bacteria, does that mean they are smaller yet?" That is... unimaginably tiny. "But I think I see the situation. You are a sort of asymptomatic carrier. There was a doctor a few years ago who proposed -- well, evidently it's true in this case."

Forgive him, this is very interesting, and he is a nerd who reads medical journals (canon).

"I'm glad to hear that this is meant to be under control, though I don't know nearly enough about magic to know how reliable that is. If they were to spread to someone else, would there be initial symptoms?"

[pineapplesalmon]

"Yes, they can interact with DNA. And yes, that's an accurate enough representation. I'm asymptomatic."

César shakes his head at the question, looking grave. "No, not unless you've got a powerful microscope. The nanites are either off or on. And once they go on, the transformation is practically instantaneous, and they don't turn off except through external means. ... you can see why I wish to share information about them rather than be a complete surprise."

[lightconductor]

"I'm... not sure what 'DNA' is," Watson admits, because that's a term that's a few decades away, still. "But yes, I can see this is something to be aware of. I'm glad you saw fit to inform people about it. Is there anything in particular we might be able to do, should the worst happen and you transform into a monster?

[pineapplesalmon]

"Oh. DNA. I can explain that, too, in a moment. With some paper." But back to the EVO thing. "... Monster is probably not the best term. I specifically avoided it since it's one of those words that is used to Other EVOs. I should really add that.... But if I fully lose my mind, I'd like to be euthanized so I have a chance of returning to normal. If I still have my mind, I'll be able to make the decision then."

César pulls out his pen and starts adding more to the document after his nanite status.

- Please euthanize if mind is lost; consult otherwise

Words to avoid
Do not use words such as 'monster' or 'freak' to describe people transformed into EVOs. It is dire enough back home that 'human' is used to be exclusionary. Therefore, I refrain from using the word human and have adopted the usage of the word 'people' to specifically include EVOs and now everyone else beyond just humans. - César

[lightconductor]

"Ah," Watson says, contritely. "I'm sorry. I was not fully aware of the context."

This is a rather complex situation, the world where César is from. He's beginning to see that. "Euthanasia is rather a extreme solution, though perhaps less so here than other places," he continues, brow furrowed. "Still, let us hope it does not come to that."

In a back room of the clinic, a window is pried open from the outside. There is a soft thump on the floor, barely audible.

cw: EVO racism

[pineapplesalmon]

"I hope it doesn't come to that, either." César puts a hand on Watson's shoulder for a moment. "You couldn't have know. I just... want to emphasize it because if an EVO like my brother comes here, I want them to be respected as a person. They have no rights or protections back home. None. Nada. Literally dehumanized."

This conversation is too important for César to notice the noises, but he'll notice they've got a visitor soon enough.

[lightconductor]

"I can imagine," Watson says soberly, momentarily distracted from the sound, "unfortunately. I suppose that is regrettably common. And, quite frankly, I'm not sure one of your EVOs will have any trouble fitting in here, given the... broad variety of people we have here. One of the best and most interesting things about Pumpkin Hollow, honestly."

It is at this point that a cat's paw, grey and with more than the usual number of toes, slides under the gap of the door, claws extended as the owner searches for something to grab onto on the other side. There is a loud and indignant wail about the injustice of being on the other side of a door they cannot open.

[pineapplesalmon]

"They wouldn't. Which is a relief. People of all sorts can fit in here." César sounds like he's counting himself among those sorts.

Then, the howl happens, and when César sees the little paw, he starts to laugh. "Someone wants in."

[lightconductor]

"Oh, for heaven's sake!"

Watson gets up, shaking his head in disbelief. He prods the paw back under the door with the tip of his cane -- gently -- and opens the door. A large, scrungly, scarred-up grey tom cat is sitting on the other side, and he promptly stands and begins to rub himself all over Watson's legs, purring audibly.

"I don't understand how you even got in," Watson says, despairing. "Diogenes, you can't be in the clinic. What am I going to do with you?"

Diogenes just purrs.

[pineapplesalmon]

César covers his mouth with the side of his fist to smother laughter, nearly falling out of his chair, managing through his chuckles. "He is a cat, sir. They do this sometimes."

Being decidedly unhelpful on purpose.

[lightconductor]

"He is, and they do, and yet I don't know that I've ever known a cat as determined to commit burglary."

Exasperated, Watson bends down to scoop up the cat, but Diogenes wriggles away and commences the very important business of inspecting César suspiciously from across the room. "I'm very sorry," Watson continues. "I'll try to put him out. I hope you're not allergic."

WOW I somehow forgot this entirely OOPS

[pineapplesalmon]

"Determined and skilled enough to back it up." César notes.

He laughs, though, and shakes his head. "No, let him stay. I love animals. I'm used to them being around constantly."