#felis recovery column

[the-bard-writes]

The Young Owl, Episode 2, Part 9

Together, Owl and Sparrow descended into the depths of Kol Mum Hill. The tunnel they had uncovered did not have stairs, and so they stepped with caution. It was too narrow to walk side by side. The Owl walked with torch held high and sword at the ready, while Sparrow kept close behind with her knife.

Neither spoke. The threat of being heard held their throats shut. Silently, they descended in a gently spiral, deeper into the earth. Then, at last, the tunnel opened into a larger chamber. Glancing around, the Owl noticed torches in sconces on wooden beams. With a kiss from her own fire, she brought light to the place, until they could see it clearly.

The chamber was roughly square, and furnished. The wooden beams were support beams, to hold the chamber against the weight of the hill above it. There were chests along the walls, and a few bookshelves with tomes and scrolls. A long table was against the far wall, adorned with tools and equipment.

“This looks like there’s all there is down here,” Sparrow whispered. “No doors or anything.”

“There were no doors upstairs,” Owl reminded. “Keep sharp.”

“What do you reckon this is?” Sparrow asked. “No bed or even hay. Nobody lives here.”

“Yet there is an air exchange,” the Owl pointed out, noticing a few metal pipes leading upwards to the surface. “This is meant to host people for prolonged periods. A hiding-hole, perhaps.”

“No food or gear,” Sparrow said, gently opening some chests. “Just empty bottles. Maybe some kind of alchemist den?”

“Perhaps,” the Owl scratched her mask, approaching the long table. “This equipment… it’s strange.”

“Strange how?” Sparrow asked, rummaging through more chests.

“I can’t tell what manner of set they make,” Owl explained. “I recognize some of them as medical equipment, but others as alchemical in nature. It’s strange to see such a combination of tools.”

“Would it make sense if it were a bad bird that was using them?” Sparrow suggested. The Owl shook her head.

“I don’t know of any heresy that would warrant such an array,” the Owl explained. “Let me examine some of these codices. There’s few reasons to use an underground storage room for such things, unless they’re meant to be hidden…”

“Let’s not get too side-tracked, yeah?” Sparrow said. “I want to know what all this is about, but I don’t want us to forget Falk and Feli.”

The Owl nodded her head quietly, picking through the bookshelves. The tomes were esoteric and obscure, some of them in languages she wasn’t familiar with. Some were old, but for the most part they were only a few years of age based on the quality of the paper. Most were likely copies of other, older texts, and some were explicitly listed as anthologies of excerpts.

“There’s little overlap here,” the Owl said. “These texts range from medical to theological to geologic.”

“So somebody likes their reading thick and well-seasoned,” Sparrow scratched her jaw. “Do you think it’s something sinister? A crazed Leaguer maybe?”

“Perhaps,” the Owl said. “I don’t think it’s anything dangerous. Perhaps it’s only just a hermit’s hole of some sort. Maybe this used to be a more advanced facility, from a bygone time, and some deranged scholar decided to make use of it—piggy-backing off the labor of a prior age.”

“Why?” Sparrow asked.

“Because they’re deranged,” Owl guessed.

“I mean, why was this here at all?” Sparrow clarified. “You say some people back in the day made it, why?”

“Many ancient civilizations left behind a legacy of their passing,” Owl explained. “You know that Orestos, to the south, was built among the ruins of an older city, and Saras has an entire League chapter dedicated to the ruins that dot the landscape of the Worldsneck.”

“What’s that got to do with this?”

“Some civilizations left a more… hidden legacy,” the Owl went on. “I’ve explored several ruins and abandoned facilities myself, all with similar architecture and strewn with the same ancient dialects. Usually they’re academies, libraries, laboratories… we know little of the civilization that made them, but for some reason, some large group of people on this continent were fond of keeping their learning in the ground. It’s possible this was a small outpost for a similar reason left by those people.”

“Does it look that old to you?” Sparrow asked.

“There’s little identifying evidence,” the Owl said. “No symbols, no plaques, not much architecture… but I can’t help but recognize the same kind of complex machinery that would’ve been needed to open the access tunnel in the cave.”

“It did seem almost by magic,” Sparrow nodded. “That pressure plate was seamless, and I can’t even begin to rack my brain about how pushing down on it made that rock slide down…”

“Precisely,” the Owl said. “I’ve seen similar feats of engineering from other ruins. The seamless integration into the environment…”

“So what’s this tell us about Falk and Feli?” Sparrow said. “We’ve still got no bugs to work with.”

The Owl returned to the work table, examining the equipment more closely. She did not pick anything up, but instead brought her head close to each instrument. She retrieved her magnification lens from her belt, and clicked it to her mask’s eye lens. Examining the heads of each instrument with extreme detail, the Owl searched for any indication that her deepest concern was validated.

She almost let herself relax, and then she saw it. Atop a thin, thin needle: a tiny twitch of movement.

Time froze for the Owl. It was several seconds before she finally, slowly, breathed again. She pulled the magnification lens away from her eyes and straightened herself. It took all the training in poise and composure she had to retain such calm.

“What is it?” Sparrow asked. “What’ve you found?”

“Parasites,” Owl said. “Atop an application device, meant to spread healing ointments into narrow orifices.”

“What?” Sparrow approached. The Owl offered the magnification lens—it was less powerful without a Sodalist’s mask, but Sparrow still could see the minuscule creatures on the application wand.

“This needle is meant to spread ointment into tight openings in the body,” Owl clarified for Sparrow. “And there are parasites on it. Do you recognize the species?”

“By the Church…” Sparrow swore again. “Here’s six… no, eight legs on the beasties. Dark brown. I count two compounded eyes, is there… yes, the tunneling proboscis. It’s vestigial on these… they’re juveniles. Hatched not long ago… probably leftover eggs that didn’t make it to a host.”

“You know the species then?”

“I do,” Sparrow nodded. “And I know how to flush them out. We’ll need an extract of bethel root.”

“I have some bethel root among my supplies,” Owl said. “We can make an extract with my equipment. What about community spread?”

“No worries,” Sparrow said, steadying her breath. “These are oakscale deer-moles. I’ve heard of people getting infested with them—they get into your arteries and chow down on your humors, and eventually cause blockages. But they don’t spread from host to host—when the host dies, they climb out and plant their eggs on the foliage nearby, hoping some poor deer will nap there eventually.”

“Bethel extract and some recovery period, with possibility for long term exhaustion and humor imbalance…” Owl nodded along. “Not a bad prognosis…”

“And what about this place?” Sparrow asked. The two of them looked around. “Somebody brought them here and put these deer-moles into them. Can’t imagine any other story being true.”

The Owl nodded. “I don’t know why they would… but I agree. The evidence… is overwhelming.”

“So?” Sparrow asked. “Do we burn the columns and bring the place down?”

“No,” Owl snapped. “This location will be of interest to the Sodality, based on the potential for heresy… to say nothing of the League’s interest in the literature available here.”

“Well we can’t do nothing about the place,” Sparrow argued. “Not while that madman is out there, looking to spice up villagers with critters and eggs.”

“I agree,” the Owl said. “I can’t transport all of these books… but we can confiscate the equipment.”

“And tell the villagers about this place,” Sparrow added.

“I don’t think that’d be wise,” the Owl contested. “They’re not the most rational bunch. They may destroy the location after we leave, or accuse the Sodality of being responsible for this incident.”

“And what happens when a flock of birds shows up to check out your tip about it?” Sparrow crossed her arms. “Are the villagers to take it kindly that you didn’t tell them, but went and told other birds about it?”

“If you found out that a recent mauling was due to a rare and important predator,” the Owl argued, “would you tell the villagers, and hope that they would have it in their hearts to not go and kill the poor beast, destabilizing the local balance of nature?”

Sparrow scoffed. “That’s not the same thing at all!”

“Of course it is, Sparrow,” the Owl rose her voice. “This place could host rare tomes for the League and it may give a lead for a wanted heretic for the Sodality. It’s precious to two guilds, and informing the villagers of it is a threat to those guilds’ interests.”

“Your guild interests,” Sparrow jabbed a finger towards the Owl, “not mine.”

“This is not a Lodge matter,” the Owl stated. “You’re out of your jurisdiction.”

“It’s my duty to keep the harmony,” Sparrow said. “Leaving a madman to do this sort of work isn’t keeping the harmony, Owl.”

“I said we’d confiscate the equipment,” Owl said. “They can’t work without it.”

“And if they have spares?” Sparrow argued. “What if they’ve got friends that can bring extra tools? What if they get pissed that someone took their gear, and take it out on the village?”

“Enough of this,” Owl waved a hand. “You’re the local Lodger. If you’re so concerned about it, set a watch on this cave, and when your madman comes, you can apprehend him. But don’t let the villagers near the place, and don’t let anything happen to it.”

“Or what?” Sparrow challenged. The Owl stared at her hard.

“Sparrow,” the Owl said tersely. “Are you going to cause an incident between our guilds over this?”

“Are you going to make me?” Sparrow dared.

The two stood there in the cave, glaring at each other. The Owl felt a twinge of hurt and balled her gloved hands. The slight motion the tension created jostled something at her hip. She remembered her vial of life and death. She remembered her quest.

“Fine,” Owl spat. “I’ve given you my suggested course of action. Watch for the culprit and leave the lab to the guilds. You’re the Lodger, do what you will with your jurisdiction.”

For a moment, neither did anything. Gradually, the tension faded, but the bitter taste of the confrontation lingered. Finally, the Owl turned and went towards the exit. She did not wait for Sparrow, but the Lodger called out to her and made her pause.

“Owl,” Sparrow said. “If I’m to watch for the one who did this… I can’t keep traveling with you to Saras.”

The Owl paused in the tunnel leading upward and outward. She looked back to Sparrow.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

#writeblr #plague doctors #plaguecore #fantasy #dark fantasy

[rantingfangirl]

Mr. Nurse

Summary: Feliciano knew that his brother would hate him for it, but this was going to go viral.

N/A/N: So, I wrote this for 2016 SpaMano Week, though I've had it outlined since November. Due to this, this fic fits none of the prompts for the 2016 SpaMano Week. Also, I would like to mention that this is loosely based off the "Marry Me" video, so you should check it out after reading. It's hilarious. I hope you all enjoy!

Mr. Nurse

Feliciano paced across the floor of the visiting room, back and forth, back and forth. The other people sitting in the room were glancing at him, worry, confusion, and flat-out annoyance on their faces. He didn't care, though, and ignored them. This was important.

The large metal double doors on the other side flung open, and a blond man with a white, flowing coat walks out. He stops, scanning the room.

"Feliciano Vargas?" he calls out, continuing to search. Feliciano stops pacing.

"Here," his says, walking up to the doctor. Slowly, gathering the courage, he asks, "How is he?"

The doctor smiled, a small one with no teeth shown. "he's perfectly fine. Only suffered a displaced fracture in the right arm and a couple bruises to go with it. We did have to place him under general anesthesia for the surgery, but I would be shocked if we had even a minor complication."

"Thank god," Feliciano breathed. A shower of relief went through him, coursing from head to toe. When he had gotten a call from the local hospital, saying that his eldest brother had been caught in a head-on collision... He didn't want to think about that. Lovino was still alive and kicking.

Feliciano raised his head up to the doctor. "Thank you so much, Doctor..." he trailed, looking for a name badge. "Beilschmidt! Thank you so much! But, um, do you think I could go see him? See Lovino?"

Doctor Beilschmidt nodded. "He's in the Post-anesthesia Recovery room. We'll need you to go by our anti-bacterial procedures, but you're free to visit. Beilschmidt turned towards the door before facing back to Feliciano. "Please, follow me."

He did so, going through the metal doors Doctor Beilschmidt entered the visiting room with just minutes before, into the bright, sterile, white hallways. As they walked, the doctor delved into the extras that would come with Lovino's care: costs, symptoms to look out for, physical therapy, things needed to be done at home, and things of the like.

After going through, "anti-bacterial procedures", which consisted of nothing more than washing hands and putting on a pair of gloves, Feliciano was finally able to see his brother.

As Doctor Beilschmidt opened the door to "Mr. Vargas' bay", as he had called it, Feliciano pushed through, planning to run in and hug his brother, telling him how relieved he was, and how worried he had been.

"Lovin-" he stopped. There, lying in the hospital bed, with his broken arm in its mesh sling, he himself in his hospital gown, was Lovino. The only thing odd, besides the entire situation they were in, was the fact that Lovino was giggling. Like an infatuated schoolgirl who had spoken to her crush. But, in this case, the object of his brother's laughter was the nurse on the opposite side of Lovino, crouched down, a goofy smile and an amused expression on his face.

Feliciano looked back at Doctor Beilschmidt, a look of suspicion on his face. "Are you sure that only his arm was broken?"

Beilschmidt, surprised at the sudden question, nodded once. "Yes, I am completely sure. The general anesthesia that we had given Mr. Vargas is most likely the cause of his... personality change." The doctor excused himself, walking further into the room, filling out a  large clipboard, before exiting out of the room, all of the nurses besides the one at Lovino's side in tow.

Slowly stepping towards the hospital bed, Feliciano set his hand on the rail. "Lovino?" he said, almost whispering his name.

The giggling ceased, the smiling nurse jerking his head up. Lovino looked at him, narrowing his eyes then opening them wide. He raised his right arm, starting to wave it in the air. 'Feli!" he dragged on his name before bursting into laughter. The nurse grinned, dodging Lovino's still waving hand at the same time.

"This is... this is..." he paused, a hurt expression on his face as he looked towards the nurse, whose grin had turned to concern. Lovino, pouting the entire time, grumbled, "you know my name, but I don't know yours. It's not fair!"

The nurse let out a breath, his smile returning. "I'm Antonio. I'm your nurse until you're let out!" He stood, shaking Feliciano's hand firmly while reintroducing himself. A gasp sounded, and the two looked down to see Lovino, silent, eyes staring into space towards the wall.

Lovino perked up, giggling as he took Antonio's hand, bringing the nurse back down to a crouch. He smiled at Antonio, before declaring, "Your name suits you." giving a nod of confirmation, as if establishing it as fact.

"I'm glad you think so, Lovino," Antonio nodding towards Feliciano, who had pulled his phone out of his pocket, a silent request to take a video.

Pressing the button on his camera, Feliciano asked, "How long until the anesthesia goes away?"

"About an hour, or so. Didn't give him that big of a dose," the nurse replied, pushing the sleeve of his smock to check his watch. "Yeah, 'bout an hour."

Lovino snorted. "Annie-zee-sha. What a funny word." He seemed pleased with himself, and even more so when Antonio tipped his head back, letting out a loud bark of laughter.

The room fell silent, but it wasn't long until Lovino was pawing on Antonio. "

"Toniii! I want to tell you a secret!"

Antonio leaned in. "What's your secret?"

Lovino turned away from the nurse, facing towards Feliciano. Then, yelling loud enough that those in the hallway could hear, he exclaimed, "Toni, I love you soooo much!" before making small pecks of kissing noises.

Feliciano couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, Antonio doing the same while Lovino scrunched up his face in confusion. His phone shaking, Feliciano slapped his other hand over his mouth in attempt to contain the laughter.

"Toni. Why are you laughing?"

"I'm sorry, Lovino," another fit of breathless laughter," but you are just too funny!"

Lovino pouted. "But I told you I love you"

Feliciano stepped up, gliding his fingers through his brother's hair, it being messier than the way it was usually styled. "He knows, Lovi, he knows."

But Lovino wasn't listening. "Toni! Tell me that you-" he stopped. Lifting his working and unbound arm, Lovino rubbed the fabric on Antonio's arm, the previous topic forgotten.

It wasn't until then that Feliciano noticed the nurse's uniform. With a green base color, the top and bottom were covered in cartoon-like tomatoes organized in rows and columns. Feliciano dropped his shoulders with a sigh. Here we go.

"Toni?" Lovino whispered, almost too quiet and soft for Feliciano to hear. "You like tomatoes?"

Yes! I love them!"

There was a long pause, Lovino still rubbing the nurse's uniform between his fingers. He stopped, pulling his hand away.

"Toni?"

"Yes, Lovino?"

"I want. Your schmuck."

"My schmuck?"

"Your schmuck."

Confused, Antonio looked down, playing with his buttons, glancing at his shoes, anything to try to find his "schmuck". Understanding dawned on his face, Antonio lifting his head up to say, "Ah! You want my smock!"

Lovino smiled, nodding his head in approval. "Mmhmm," he hummed, "I love you and your schmuck."

He closed his eyes, humming in no particular pattern whatsoever as Feliciano pulled up a chair. Tapping his fingers, Lovino stopped humming, and instead opted to start singing, "Lovino and Antonio, sitting in a tree...". He then stopped movement altogether, his eyes jerking open as he turned to Antonio.

"Toni! I have an idea!"

"Hm?" Antonio leaned down next to the bed, grabbing and unscrewing the cap to a bottle of water before taking a swig.

"Let's get married!"

Antonio coughed, his free hand, the other still being in Lovino's grip, flying up to his mouth to prevent spewing water. He coughed as Lovino continued to talk, Feliciano not making the situation better by trying to control his laughter.

"Yup, we're getting married. I would like a red wedding ring, Toni. Don't forget. A red wedding ring. Lilies and Carnations would be our flowers. Don't you think they would look well together, Toni? Hmm, I guess you could be my best man, Feli, or maybe I could use Roman, but Toni, you would have to-"

"Wait, wait, wait! Since when have we been getting married?"

"Since now, Toni. I love you soo much! I told you that!"

"I know you said that! But when did I say yes?"

Feliciano sat there, watching the two as they went back and forth, Lovino talking about their love and Antonio denying that he even loved him back. Antonio had forgotten that this was all being caught on video, Lovino never realizing it in the first place.

If Lovino saw this video, he would be so embarrassed, he would crawl into a hole, living his life as a hermit, never to see the sunlight again. If he saw the video.

And he would, because it was going to go viral.

Antonio closed the back door to the hospital, the warm air of July afternoon hitting his face. He huffed, leaning back against the wall. A chuckle.

"Disobedient patient?" Gilbert, a first responder and friend of his.

"A clingy patient."

"Really?"

"He wanted my 'schmuck'"

Another chuckle.

After saying probably a thousand times that, "No, Lovino, we are not getting married," his lunch break had started. He then spent five minutes trying to get the patient off his arm. Lovino might have only used one of his, but every time Antonio had pulled him off, he had just latched on again. The brother wasn't helping either, just taking it all on video.

Gilbert did a short whistle, then took a bite into his sandwich, They normally ate lunch together in the short time they had, but Francis, the third member and the only official doctor of the group, was in a procedure, and dealing with Vargas had taken up most of Antonio's time.

Never mind that Lovino Vargas was one of the hottest people he had ever seen in his life, everyone has to eat!

He pulled up his watch, checking the time. Already walking away, he said, "Lunch time's almost over. I want to get a walk in before I have to go back inside that gloomy hospital. Meet me at the bar Friday night?"

Crumbling the wrap of paper his sandwich was in, Gilbert called out from behind him, "Sure thing. I'll get Francey-pants and Kirkland to join up with us. See you around, man."

"Bye."

Antonio walked around the side of the gray building, listening to the birds and the sway of the wind. The hospital board tried so desperately to make the place seem nice and inviting, and while he appreciated their efforts, he had to say that they failed miserably. Trees, flowers, and fresh cement in the parking lot did not make him want to come here every day, but it helped.

Sitting on a bench in the "garden", which was really just a pile of flowers soon to be dead from the summer heat, a grumbling man, with his left arm in a blue sling, leaned forward, staring at the birds. Antonio strolled up to the man, stopping just close enough to cast a shadow over him. Lovino Vargas.

Without even looking at him, Lovino said, "Piss off, Feliciano."

A complete wonder general anesthesia was, to take a man, turn him into a gushing little thing that declares his love to random unsuspecting nurses and plans weddings said nurse didn't agree to, only to spit him out angry and pouting.

"He took the next step. "What if I'm not Feliciano? Then can I stay?"

Lovino froze before letting out the most creative and colorful curse Antonio had ever heard. He turned towards him, those beautiful hazel eyes full of anger and embarrassment. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," he said, taking the chance to sit down next to Lovino. "Feeling better than before?"

Flush building on his cheeks. "Shut up."

"Oh, so you saw the video?"

Clenched fist. "Of course I did."

"Well, if you did, then you should know about your proposal."

Lovino turned his head. "I must admit that was a bit forward."

Antonio smiled. "Let's just start at square one," he said, handing him the paper that's been in his pocket for hours, before getting up and strolling away.

Lovino unfolded the paper, confusion on his face . Mr. Nurse XXX-XXX-XXXX

"Bastard," Lovino growled, pulling out his wallet. He could have sworn that he heard a deep laugh while he shoved the paper in

This is being moved from my old fanfiction account

#Aph South Italy #Aph North Italy #Aph Spain #Aph SpaMano #SpamanoWeek2016 #SpaMano #RantingFangirl #Katie's Fanfiction