sixthiterationlogs | mingle post

mingle post | open

WHO: Jess Brightwell and everyone!
WHERE: The inn.
WHEN: Sept. 28th to Oct. 11th.
OPEN TO: Everyone who lives at or would visit the inn during the non-stop rain. If you don't feel like making a log for the inn but want a place to tag around, this is the mingle post for you!
WARNINGS: Will update if necessary.
STATUS: Open. Mingle away, comrades.

There's nothing quite like the sky opening up and releasing a torrential downpour to bring people together. With water coming down in buckets and the streets turning into waterways, it would be wise to seek shelter until this lets up...

If it ever lets up.

For those needing a place to warm up, the inn has a roaring fire and hot tea waiting. Pass the time watching the rain at the window, or telling stories around the main room's fireplace, or enjoying friendly company in the pub. You're even welcome to stay the night in one of the inn's spare rooms, just don't mind the leaks. It's an old building. Luckily there are plenty of buckets to go around.

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"I cook, but I've got no shopping plazas to get my food from, seeing as my dazzling turn in the kitchen adds up to microwaving things," he confesses, shivering a little when another burst of a draft comes and assaults him and forces him to lean closer towards the warmth of the fire. "Some people would've wanted to be alone," he points out. "Brood in the storm and all."

"Though, you don't exactly strike me as someone who's introverted and surly," he notes wryly, thinking of their very first encounter.

"I take it that you have no idea what to do with meat and fruit foraged from the woods?" She grinned. "I rather envy you. I'm not very capable in the kitchen. Kate has been trying to teach me, but I fear I'm a bit hopeless." She said with a chuckle. "There are a few men that I know who are likely locked away and brooding through the storm. That isn't how I prefer to spend my days."

He certainly was perceptive, though she doubted that she was subtle in her friendliness. "I don't know what you mean, I am clearly closed off and cold."

"I mean, the fruit, I could sort of figure out," he points out, seeing as other than potentially poisonous berries, Ravi trusts his fruit foraging skills. "Meat in an antique kitchen? Slightly more of a problem," he points out, seeing as it's not like he's taken courses in cooking. He was a touch too busy becoming a doctor, after all. "I suppose I could ask for courses too, but I'd hate to drive anyone to madness at my complete crap talent at cooking."

He gives her a droll look at her reply. "If only all the world of closed off, cold people could be like you. It would make me slightly more willing to deal with live patients."

"You can't be any worse than me." She said with a sly grin. "Kate is friendly enough to be willing to help even the most hopeless of cases. We have daily lunches at the inn. Everyone come to help in some way or another, it would be the perfect opportunity for you to learn." It would also allow him to speak with the others in village without the need to spy on them in the spring.

He managed to coax a laugh from her. "Never trust the beauty of a rose, there are thorns along its stem." She teased her family motto. "You...deal with the dead?"

"She is a remarkably kind woman to feed all 6'4 of me," Ravi agrees, even if he hasn't really had a proper conversation to actually thank the woman so much as he's stared at her and sort of hoped she could feel his appreciation. He raises a brow at her words, knowing they sound so familiar, but why can't he figure it out?

Apparently, he's losing his mind before 35. It's all Liv's fault, really.

"I'm a medical examiner," he clarifies. "When someone dies, their body is sent to the morgue. That's where I come in to diagnose what killed them, give them an autopsy, and then put them back together."

"I think that she has taken it upon herself to look after us all and make certain we are eating." Which she wasn't opposed to. Thanks to Kate, Margaery had been able to retain her sanity while they were lost in the woods. Her admiration for the young woman had only increased after that.

A medical examiner? It took a moment for her to understand the word, linking it suddenly to "maester". Each maester had a different skill, his seemed to be looking after the dead.

"What leads a man into that profession?"

"Well, in my case, it's because you're a little over-obsessed with a disease conquering the world and you're planning for the inevitable destruction of humanity by providing multiple back up plans," Ravi says ruefully, thinking of his all too brief time at the CDC. "Then you move to Seattle to work on dead bodies and find that it's not the quiet life one would expect."

He's not about to launch into a whole history of the zombie takeover he's trying to prevent, but it's starting to get a little difficult not having anyone to talk to about it.

Was she hearing him correctly? "A disease is conquering the world and destroying humanity?" She must have misunderstood. What sort of world did he come from? She had assumed that Westeros was one of the more difficult and harsh worlds, but his might surpass it.

She didn't mind listening, perhaps especially now since he had piqued her interest. How could she not hear the story after that?

"In my mind, it was always some murderous amalgamation of the Spanish Flu and some antibiotic resistant germ," Ravi confesses, though in recent days he's learned that it is not, in fact, a leftover from the 1920's, but rather a new SuperMaxRager virus created out of the greed of corporations trying to get a better bottom line and the vanity of drug dealers to have a designer drug on the market (not even clever ones, seeing as it had been tainted).

He gives Margaery a rueful smile. "Not everyone agreed that it was a pressing concern. I was sacked."

He's speaking gibberish to her, but she nods her head as though she understands. She can at least follow enough to have an idea of what he means. The disease was deadly. There wasn't much more that needed to be stated beyond that.

"Sacked? You mean removed from your position?"

"Quite thoroughly," Ravi agrees, considering the poor compensation that he'd received, even, in their haste to get him and his planning ways out of the way. "I know it's a bit dark and slightly pessimistic, and yet, someone has to have these plans in place otherwise pure chaos will reign," he says.

Apparently, he didn't think to plan for being abducted to the 1900's. He's not even sure what he would have done, apart from possibly teaching himself Edwardian era chores, like churning butter and lighting fires.

"Unfortunately, chaos is always close at hand and only held off temporarily. The more you try to plan and keep control, the more it will slip through your fingers." It was a sad fact, something that she had learned in the harshest means possible.

She smiled at him, hoping to draw away from the bleak topic into something more pleasant. "Is this what you plan to do here? Act as a maester?" She realized her mistake, "Doctor?"

"I'm typically only a doctor for the dead," he deadpans, aware that she won't understand the joke at hand, but it is quite witty in his own head. "I could manage stitches and light injuries, but my specialization has been research and medical examining for so long that I wouldn't be a very good general practitioner," he warns.

"Besides, you've already got the lovely Dr. Magnus," he points out. "If you ever have something dead that needs an eye, then you can call me."

If it is a joke, it goes over her head. "I imagine that stitches and light injuries will occur regularly, so we will be grateful for someone that knows how to manage that." She smiled. "It is wise to have more than one person familiar with medicine."

She frowned, "I rather hope it doesn't come to that."

"I've yet to see the supplies I'd need to be in a regular sort of business," Ravi clarifies, and his knowledge of pre-90's medicine is fairly awful, so he's not even sure that he can fashion himself some kind of material to do stitches with that won't leave his patient starring in their own little version of the Oregon Wagon Trail.

"Who's the other? Helen?" he clarifies, wondering if there's yet another doctor's practice he ought to be aware of, in case of competing practitioners.

"Perhaps something will be left for you as a gift? Many things that we have needed have appeared outside our doors." Though many of them were apparently outdated, at least according to others. Most were things she recognized from her world.

"I believe so," Margaery said slowly, trying to draw the woman to mind. "I don't believe I have ever spoken with her though."

"Does that happen often?" Ravi asks, seeing as some creepy version of Santa Claus in this place is not really a comforting thing, because 'he sees you while you're sleeping' is not something that sounds amenable when he doesn't even know how or why he owns the particular bed that he does.

This is why he's going to not think about it (a stellar plan, if he does say so himself). "Helen's good," he says, with a nod of appraisal. "And it's nice to have someone better versed in surgery on the living. I'll happily tend to sprains, strains, and other diseases that begin with an S and don't bear mentioning in front of a lady."

"More often than you might think. I have received two boxes from someone, both containing items that I needed. It's possible that the same will happen for you as well. In fact, the seeds we planted in the fields came from these gifts." As disturbing as that sounded.

She doesn't know what the other 'S' could be, but she trusts his judgement in that. "Then as a doctor, you should know how to prevent yourself from getting sick, at least. The rain could bring a chill, if you're not careful. Are you any warmer now by the fire?"

"Much," he promises, still rubbing at his arms as he gives her a smile that he hopes echoes how warm he feels inside. "And I'm definitely not trying to bring a head cold upon this place. God only knows how contagious people here must be without all the help of modern antiseptics," Ravi says darkly.

"We so far have avoided an outbreak of illnesses," which was actually surprising, though she was grateful that nothing had happened. "Would you like some tea and broth?"

"Why not complete my transition into frail old woman with dentures," Ravi encourages, but it's with warmth and good-natured teasing as he gives Margaery an encouraging nod, thinking that he could use a little touch of warmth, right now. "Let's."

"Are you always in such a pleasant disposition?" Margaery asked, teasing him. She excused herself quickly, returning to the kitchen to fetch some tea and broth for him. It would at least chase away the last of the cold.

When she returned, she took her former place by the fire.

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