[The Jungle] No day at the spa... [Ch 1.1] [Mo 1.1]

edited December 2011 in Site Matters
All things considered, you got pretty lucky with Hightower. Before you showed up, the last medic had managed a pretty decent setup (what happened to that guy anyhow?). After a bit of scrounging in some of the nearby spires, you put together a damn respectable infirmary! You had a little help from Shigusa and Mox -- how did they come to work with you in the first place?

(I’m trying to figure out a way to put the natural spring “in” Hightower or at least accessible to it without putting you completely at the mercy of the jungle: I am open any suggestions at all. For now, we’re just going to handwave it.)

Alas, you were up before dawn, although not by choice. You never have a day off. It’s been quiet, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t busy. White’s in the chair today -- what exactly did he get himself into?

[Monsoon - please hold, sorry!]


  • (Maybe not so much on top of the spring, as toward the bottom levels, near an in-built water supply that's stayed more or less clean over the years. Something like that. I just thought it appropriate to have a clean water source for the doc)

    Sisko, the last medic, had ended up taking a step out of the crane on the way down to the floor. No warning, just stepped out into the sky, and nobody heard him hit. Likewise, nobody knew why he'd snapped. I know why. I watch this jungle eat people alive-- flora and fauna alike, but mostly just people. Take Mr. White for instance. He was enjoying a round of drinks in the market, when someone slipped a bit of surcease into his beer. It's an intensely powerful muscle relaxer distilled from a particular breed of orchid. He'd collapsed, nearly had a heart attack. Lucky he's a solid guy. Shigusa and Mox keep an eye on him while I wash off. Shigusa came with me, picked me up on the river after I left the Ducklings. Mox helped Sisko keep the place up, and welcomed the help.

    I finish off the clean up. The place smells of the scorched lotus seed pods needed to clear the surcease, but I barely notice the acidic stink anymore.
  • [Char]

    Mox is looking over White, who is having a much-needed, albeit labored, nap. Shigusa has water boiling over a gas torch, and has begun collecting your tools to sterilize them, but she wanders over to you first with concern all over her face. She's a short, cinnamon-skinned woman with a rugged face and long, messy hair tied back in a lazy ponytail for doing an angel's work. She stands beside you, washes her hands, wipes them on her leather apron, then speaks. "This ain't the first one this week," she tells you as if you don't already know, "someone's fuckin' around and the Vigilanties ain't doin' shit about it. White ain't done nothin' wrong, 'cept fer bein' a douchenozzle when he's drunk, o' course, and them orchids just ain't that easy to come by, yanno?"


    The sun is rising, but you’ve had a long day already. You went out with Lawn the night before, but headed back to Hightower alone a couple hours ago (why?). Char’s place is pretty “popular” as a supply of fresh water aside from the rain collectors at the top of the Tower, and you came here to get clean and wash the Jungle off. Locals call it Char's "spring" but it's really just a set of functional plumbing that delivers clean, fresh water. Char's work always gets priority, and no water is to be wasted so the baths are small and used bathwater is pumped back up to the growing floors. Each bath is a little stall constructed from particleboard and cubical partitions.

    As you begin to clean off, you remember the open wound from the night before (what happened, anyhow?): that sickly sweet smell of blood and agave gel (to staunch the bleeding) bring it to your attention before the pain does. Aside from Char, Mox, and Shigusa in the infirmary section (along with a few patients), only one other person is in the baths, you can tell by the quiet pouring water from one of the stalls.
  • Cutbugs are dangerous, even though they're small (compared to a cat or a rabbit, at least. Not small compared to the normal roaches we have in Hightower). The thing was laying eggs in a carcass far bigger that himself, and i dozed out, staring at the green jelly beads filling out the half-exposed skull, among red flesh and white bone.
    It was the Jungle munching things and fucking them and spitting them out and carrying on with life, ever faster.

    But you don't intrude on a cutbug's nest, and the bloody thing slashed at my calf. Had to go back, thorncourt isn't easy to cross with cloth wrapped on your leg, and it's no good to expose a fresh wound to the carrion flowers. might leave their seeds in it. bloody pity.

    As soon as I took off some clothes, the wound's smell struck me, getting a proper fix for it might be in order. But a good bath first.

    There's somebody else 'round, even though it's early. curious. Can't be that bloody Shazza, anyway: he doesn't bathe.
  • While the stink is something to which one can adjust, the ensuing headache is unavoidable. As I step over to check on White, Mox wipes a thick, grey-white discharge from his lips. Side effect of the antidote, sorry to say. I check his pupils and he barely stirs. Without turning my patient, I say back to Shigusa, "Masser was the last, I thought. Got himself dosed over dinner. Dragged himself halfway here before the cramps overtook him," I follow White's pulse, drop my ear down to listen to his labored breathing, "Those orchids mostly only grow in the deep jungle. Don't know many go that far but Lawn, handful others. Lotuses grow in the same place, and that was our last dose."

    There's a board full of bath tokens on the wall just outside the aisle, and folk take these tokens when they hit the bath. This early, there's already two of the vinewood hangers gone. Saw that crazy bitch Monsoon come in, limping, soaked cloth around her leg. Shigusa's prepping for a probing and stitches. Fuck me, it's going to be a long day.
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