deercountry | here comes the sun

[ if asking had gone well, and so had their meeting— than the reason could only be good if falco frequents this particular establishment so much. following the blood ministers had its pros, but the downside always stopped upon magic. what if there wasn't magic to rely on? what if he couldn't do it? what if he was elsewhere with no blood spells, like santa rosita or south sister, and falco couldn't do more beyond his basic combat first aid—? because there was no magic.

it would have been a frustrating way to see someone go. nehan seemed the rigid sort when it came to teaching, but no one got anywhere without applied pressure. and, of course, a desire to succeed.

falco had a long way to go, he was terribly young— but that wouldn't stop him from learning, at whatever pace he had to. this was different. it was something he wanted to do. he had a choice in it, unlike the years of his childhood spent at preparation, education and stationing at enemy lines.

falco announces his arrival at the rendezvous point, as always, at the establishment separate from the man's home as he undid the bird-skull buckle of his cloak and left his messenger bag close to the door: ]

I'm here, Mister Nehan!

[for now, the place he's working out of is a small building in prufrock, just barely above the designation of "shack" in anyone's eyes. but trench is full of abandoned houses, big and small, and nehan has no issue in using them. though for the purposes of lessons, he doesn't need a large place, and, gods above, no stairs.

nehan is already there, resting in a chair and with some papers stacked on top of a desk. papers and books and whatnot, all about medicine. he has some notes as well, but his writing is indecipherable (as doctors' notes tend to be), and is done in shorthand anyway.

around the table are lanterns and glowing coldblood stones, just to light up the miserable house in this unending night.]

Come in. No need to dawdle.

[ and dawdle, he does not. falco picks up his pace as to not keep the man waiting, collecting his notebook and ink pen against his chest just to write things down for himself (with more decipherable handwriting, as it were), and only stops himself from a complete approach to the working desk to ask their, attentively: ]

Do you need me to get anything?

[nehan gives the boy a look as if he thinks falco is being obtuse on purpose.]

I said don't dawdle.

Sit down and we can begin the lesson. [and his tone makes it clear that he will not be disobeyed.]

—Yes sir.

[ a note to self: don’t go overboard with politeness, not with mister nehan. falco tightens his lips together in a press and quickly finds his way over, front, center and in his seat to make up for the lost time. ]

[nehan simply settles into his chair, and laces his fingers together lazily.]

Have you done independent study since we last met?

[ this, he actually has an answer for, and a good one; if he didn't truly have interest, he wouldn't have snooped around on his own. with a contained nod (careful not to show too much enthusiasm), falco reaches for the one important thing in his bag now hanging from the chair's back, his notebook with notes (and a book). ]

I borrowed this from the archives. I thought I should start with the basics—?

[ was that okay? ]

Good. [he shows initiative, which is a good start.] Since I wont always be around, and will not be available for you every single minute, you'll need to do some studying on your own.

[but he motions towards the book.]

Show me what this is, then. Anatomy?

[ the boy nods, and promptly shares the view of the book. there are plenty of further pages that he's marked down, for future reference. ]

It's a lot of names to remember, so I'm trying to only go forward if I remember the first.

[ then the third if he remembers the first and second, etc. falco rolls his wrist to indicate "and so on". it's impossible to remember all of every single structure in a given page. he's not a genius or a prodigy. just a kid with a lot of gusto for what he's doing, and he's trying his best. ]

Is that an acceptable study plan?

Hmm. [nehan looks over the view of the book he can briefly... before deciding it's not good enough.]

The brain is too complicated for you-- leave it out of your studies for now.

In fact... The diagrams are more meant for those who are experienced. [nehan starts to dig through his loose sheets of paper-- he wrote all these, in a hand that others can read. they were meant for flynn, but he's repurposing them now for another newcomer to the trade. he digs out the sheets with diagrams of the body, the different systems, and even labels.]

Here. I made these myself a while ago.

[ they’re—! gorgeous, detailed— not as glaringly complicated as the book he had in hand, which sends a jolt of hope through him. at the right time, he’s sure he’ll be able to pick that book up again without scrambling his processing too much. this, this was much better for his start and level, even if it had already been some steps higher than the average adolescent as is. well, the modern ones. wide eyed and entranced, falco leans in to scan the pages, makes a reach for them before immediately deciding it’s best to keep his hands to himself. nehan never said it was his, now. best not to act like it was.

(he’s sure the top of his hand would’ve been smacked if he was indeed, wrong). ]

Can I copy them, sir?

Keep them. [then he waves his hand at the stack of resources he has.]

The loose sheets are free for the taking as long as you're able to read them-- they're my own notes or diagrams. The notebook can be looked over, but at the end of the day, it's mine.

[not that he thinks the boy can read his shorthand scribbling, anyway.]

[ oh, boy. he gets to study all of these. because he wants! and because nehan has decided, too. it's small and he's trying to clamp down on it, but there is quite the start of a smile there, as he sifts through pages and pages worth of information. ]

Thank you, sir. [ he'll never take the notebook, but the rest— he has a lot to look through, to gather his first batch to study. ] Is there a system you think I should give more attention to? Right now?

[ as a beginner— he considers maybe bones, since it's the base of everything, but there's just so many things that it's almost overwhelming to choose a starting point. he wants to start everywhere. ]

Cardiovascular and the skin. Because of Trench's focus on blood, we need you up to speed on how veins and arteries work, and where they can be found. [and thankfully all the major organs are just part of that.

but still, blood.]

[ oh, that seems actually . . . good! in the sense that falco has prior knowledge of how it works and where important spots are on a basic level. it should help guide him through the plethora of names, names, and more names, along with locations.

with a nod, falco opens his mouth to say something— then decides against it, keeping his head in the papers and getting to studying, repeating, reading (with— a lot of squinting, here and there. the writing is difficult to make out, but by the power of deer translation— ) and jotting down what he needs to review in his own notebook. ]

Right.

[ no dawdling. he'll pick up conversation at a later hour. ]

[nehan was ready to respond to any question the boy would have had, especially given his actions, but apparently not. apparently the boy wants to study by himself, so nehan will do his own work.

he lifts himself from the chair and goes to the window to light incense, because he's about to make it reek enough that beasts might get interested. since he's pulling out jars of fresh leaves, a cutting board and a knife.]

[ at the very least, he wants to better his impression to his teacher. at most, he’s excited to learn. a few questions do rise here and there, but nothing far beyond doubts of what was written in the doctor’s chicken scratch handwriting. falco compiles a list of actual inquiries directly related to the systems, all while keeping the occasional close eye on nehan going about his business.

the silence breaks a tad harsher now, as the boy wets his lips and aligns his back to begin the real learning. ]

Mister Nehan— if someone’s bleeding internally, how much time do they have? Usually?

[ asking, because it’s a genuine question, and asking, because of personal experience. sasha bled out fast and was gone in a matter of minutes. ]

[nehan looks up from chopping the rolled leaves, blade wet. that sounds like a very specific question from experience-- he already knows the signs, when all his students have asked such things of him so far. suffering from thoughts of "what if i could have done something to change this outcome?" because someone suffered or died from that one specific thing.]

It depends on the severity, and location, but typically minutes to hours-- and never more than a quarter of a day. Such things are considered an emergency and everything needs to be dropped in order to save the patient.

[ falco hones in on the notes picturing the abdomen; a lot of little vessels, almost too many to count and slap a name on (but each one did, amazing). most of the problems there, he sees, were the organs. softs things easily dissipated, important things connected to important veins, and arteries other than the heart. the liver was a bloody mass. the intestines were a contained infection zone just waiting to make a survivor's chances minimal. ]

There was someone I saw, once, shot in the abdomen with a rifle. Point-blank range. [ she was sure that with the distance gabi fired, she didn't need to compensate for direction. she fired, straight on, and hit, straight on. ] There weren't any doctors on the airship. Only soldiers with, [ falco's lips press harder together; he knows what nehan had meant, now. ] basic notions.

[ notions that weren't enough to do anything. it was just as much as "not knowing". ]

They only wrapped her stomach, and she died a few minutes after. Would that have been, um . . . A surgical case?

[ or a lost cause? of course, he knows there's no point in grieving too much over it, but he did want to understand: could more be done, if they had the resources? people in his time die so easily, and medical care was still evolving so slowly. ]

[bow the scenarios are vey specific, and nehan can piece together just what falco is doing. trying to do, and where he's come from. speech, manner, the constant fighting and the intense need to learn medicine... all signs of someone going through some sort of war, like a real soldier. of course the military of that world would employ children, they're lacking in resources and personnel, if they're dying like that.]

You are looking at a man who has survived being shot in the back by a rifle. [just... to give the boy some perspective.]

She would have survived if there was a surgeon with an operating theater on board. [or if there had been a magical healer. which is another thing he has to think about. he scrapes all his cut leaves back into the jar, where they start to float in their own juices. exactly what he wants.]

Am I right in thinking magic is not something available in your world?

[ visibly, his eyes widen at the thought of being shot in the back without any lasting scars, some of even the crippling variety. unless one was like him, who had very specific and different physiology. “magic” in the way that it’s usually seen— spells, enchantments, potions— falco shakes his head and his hand down the page he keeps open.

she could’ve survived . . . with the right tools, the right people. the right knowledge and experience. ]

You’re right, sir. There’s science, that might look like magic . . . [ but not “magic”. ] Nothing like that.

Then it's a shame, because then you would have access to even some potions, and something could have been done. [but he shakes his head.] Isn't it?

I don't want you to dwell on the could haves and should haves, even if it's an easy mindset to have-- it's a trap. I want you to focus on the here and now, and what you can do in the future.

[ stiffening his posture, falco lowers his head and dips into a single, obedient nod. ]

Yessir. I just wanted to know . . . For another time. [ just in case. just to be sure. just to— have peace of mind, in a way, that there were ways. ] There's so much that can be done, the more you know.

[nehan wipes his hands clean with alcohol, then dry with a clean cloth, then cleans his tools and slides the jar of leaves towards the boy. it smells just... well. like freshly-cut grass, just stronger.]

This is one of the things I'll be teaching you. My primary preference is to use medicine for healing-- they're magical, of course.

[ falco’s attention shifts to nehan’s eyes, his own wide as if just being told a huge secret. not a secret, no— but it certainly surprises him to be a candidate for such technique. ]

Will I . . . Be able to that?

[ it’s ironic how turning into a giant bird is perfectly alright for him but, magic? healing magic? it is so very wanted but so surreal despite what he’s already seen everyone else do. ]

@nehan

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cw for war imagery

cw: near death talk

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