bestsir: (working)
Dr. Harry D. S. Goodsir ([personal profile] bestsir) wrote in [community profile] singillatim2024-01-24 11:41 pm

3. You may be a warning of things to come.

Who: Harry Goodsir and divers hands
What: La'an's postmortem and after
Where: The Milton church
When: After the Darkwalker claims its victim
Warnings: There's an autopsy. Goodsir has some PTSD. Fun for the whole family.

The unheated church basement will do for a mortuary. Someone finds a long table and Goodsir has La'an's poor cold corpse laid out on it, covered with a sheet.

He hasn't performed an autopsy—

(Twenty. I have performed on—)

—here, not yet. The deaths that have occurred so far have presented no mystery, but La'an's is something new and terrifying, and Goodsir feels he must get to the bottom of it.

[ There are a couple of prompts for Goodsir specifically, but feel free to start your own threads. ]

castitas: (033)

[personal profile] castitas 2024-01-25 06:13 am (UTC)(link)
Kate has no business being anywhere near an autopsy, and she's done precisely that: minded her business and kept far away, despite knowing where it's been taking place. Her imagination is more than enough. They do this sort of thing in films and TV shows, don't they?

But she comes later, when she hopes it's all over. Slips into the church, and there's a feeling of dread knowing what's beneath her feet. Death is a terrible business. There's a little inhale, when she spots him in the pew and she understands that it has been done and she's just.... sad. She doesn't know what else to be right now. Sad for him, sad for La'an. She's too tired and still reeling to be much else.

Without a word, Kate sits beside him in the pew. She gently takes his hand and holds it with her own.
flambeaux: listening to Debussy and thinking about ass (gay thoughts)

[personal profile] flambeaux 2024-01-25 06:48 am (UTC)(link)
A vampire can't stand to be near their kill any more than a human likes looking at half-chewed gristle on their plate (or an actual body). It's unusual for Louis to hang around this very human affair, but this is an unusual death. Her face... Those sounds in the night... Louis fears the presence of a powerful immortal, having no concept of what an encounter with a truly ancient vampire might be like. Lestat is enough of a handful.

So, Louis looks about as queasy as the average gentleman stepping into the room and removing his brimmed hat. But he's here, which means he must want to learn something. He murmurs his name ("Louis de Pointe du Lac") by way of brief introduction and takes a quiet vigil somewhere out of the way.

His bright green eyes look at her neck and arms but find nothing he's searching for. Otherwise, he doesn't overly stare. The sight of the body doesn't seem to bother him as much as the circumstances around which it came about.

"Anythin' missin'?" he asks softly. Normal, casual question for a normal, casual night.
goingtobeunwell: (arctic. sadness beard)

Re: Afterward

[personal profile] goingtobeunwell 2024-01-25 12:30 pm (UTC)(link)
There was one man carefully watching the proceedings from the sidelines. The night of the death Crozier had crawled himself out of his igloo and wandered into the center of town.

Morfin.

No, Hornby.

No, Manson. The fear. The fear.

She died alone, frightened. It’s happening once more, a beast hunting them down and taking them, one by one, and they’re powerless to stop it.

He hates she was alone when she died, and so when it’s all said and done quietly snuck into the church to have a quiet service for her soul. He’s finishing as Goodsir enters - he must be done with the autopsy - and softly walks to his chosen pew.

I want you to cut open Irving’s stomach.

Good.


He sits.

“What are we doing here, Harry? This place…”
solitarysoul: (chibi)

[personal profile] solitarysoul 2024-01-25 12:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Levi follows Goodsir dutifully before and during the autopsy, doing as he's told and not speaking aside from a few 'Yes Sir's. He nods and makes mental notes about the observations...maybe he'll write them down later so they don't forget. But for now he's focused on the task.

Notably, he has no issue with working with the body. Though cutting it up was interesting and he's clearly trying to learn from it, he's not squeamish. Its like he just going about any mundane daily task. Part of it is because he's in soldier mode, and he shows almost no emotion in those times. But mostly its because he's seen death and bodies so much in his life (mostly those last three days in Prehevil) that it doesn't phase him. People die, it was just another part of life.
thefifthchild: (daddy worked his whole life)

[personal profile] thefifthchild 2024-01-25 03:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[Even if they hadn't allowed him in, there never would have been a reality where he'd let that stop him. So Damian, the youngest child in this horrible little town, watches the woman get cut open with nothing but grim neutrality as possibilities bounce around his head.

He would be lying if he said the... expression, of the woman, didn't give him pause. It reminds him of certain encounters. The Joker. Scarecrow. But those are of human origin. This is something... else. Something other.

Then Louis speaks, and Damian's broken out of his train of thought. He gives the older man the slightest dirty look at what he believes to be a very stupid question.]


The body had no signs of any physical damage.

Remains to be seen if there's any internal injuries. [He pauses. Now turning to Louis fully.] Were you expecting something to be missing?
fidior: — 𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 (ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ)

[personal profile] fidior 2024-01-25 04:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Edward isn't present for the autopsy. He can't— can't do it, can't see the poor woman's body carved into, but he lingers close by when it's happening, outside of the church. He's a solitary, dark figure standing there to anyone else's eye. (In the corner of his own, he sees his shadowed double. By this point, the twin is with him everywhere he goes, and more and more he finds himself wanting to be alone with it.)

But La'an's death tugs out the last remaining vigilance of Edward Little. He won't abandon her (although of course, it's too late; she died, a horrific death, alone, frightened, and he failed to keep someone in this community safe, just as he's failed before.)

After some time, he notices some people leaving the church, sombre, heads down — but doesn't see Goodsir. Little hesitates for a brief spell before he heads inside, prepared to go down to the church basement if he must (stomach a tightening knot at the thought), but it's then that he spots a familiar tangle of black curls, a man seated alone at a pew, shrouded by dark.

Slowly, he approaches Goodsir, and moves to sit down beside him. His double sits too, head turned to watch. Edward can feel the man shaking, and dips his head; his own hands tremble. He remembers watching Goodsir cut into Irving, and thinks that everything is repeating itself again. Death and horror and no way to stop it.

"Are you all right?" Finally he speaks, voice soft and deeply sad.
friendsfordinner: (quietly plan that mutiny)

[personal profile] friendsfordinner 2024-01-25 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
The moment that fear abates, the moment he knows he can leave his house, Hickey does so. He heads off, without telling anybody (sorry Billy). Whatever happened can wait, he knows that thing is out there. One of the gods of this land was so close and he missed it. Well, he can at least try and catch up with the thing. He's quicker now. Faster. He can find it.

He does not find it. So a very winded and very hungry Cornelius Hickey makes his way back to town. He doesn't know what's happened. How could he? The moment he felt like he could breathe again, he left. So absolutely unaware of what happened, about La'an's body, about all of this, Hickey makes his way to the nearest building to warm up: the church.

Warm up is a relative term considering how fucking cold it is. But for Hickey, who's cheeks are bright red and who's got a dusting of snow and ice on his hair and beard, it's warm enough. At least, it's a place for him to sit and mull over what he saw. He slumps down in a pew...then notices someone else is there. Standing up, Hickey walks over to spot—

"Goodsir," said with a little nod. "Now what brings you out here?"
solitarysoul: (uh?)

[personal profile] solitarysoul 2024-01-25 05:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Levi moves quickly to catch Goodsir. Was this some effect of the body, or the doctor's own issues? Either way he was there to help.

"Sir? Are you alright? Do you need something?" There's concern in his voice, though he remains expressionless.
goingtobeunwell: (a man and his ship)

Re: Afterward

[personal profile] goingtobeunwell 2024-01-25 06:02 pm (UTC)(link)
It’s a sign of how far he’d come (fallen?) that he doesn’t notice the switch from title to name.

“Cruel if by design,” he agrees, looking dead ahead. He can’t even manage a smile, gallows or otherwise. “What do we do?”

He sounds so small, so lost; feels it too, with all of his being.
solitarysoul: commisioned art (Default)

[personal profile] solitarysoul 2024-01-25 06:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"O-okay." He's not sure what to do but he'll follow Goodsir's lead. If the surgeon seems to be struggling with the tools, Levi will help steady his hand or just take them. He is very good at following instructions if Goodsir needs to walk Levi through this instead of doing it himself.
fidior: — 𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 (ᴄᴀssᴇᴛᴛᴇ ᴛᴀᴘᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʟᴠᴇʀᴛs)

[personal profile] fidior 2024-01-25 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
His dipped head moves gently, becomes a soft nod. Every movement feels so heavy, even without the presence of his doppelgänger's misery bleeding into him. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, and even to blink is a great effort.

"I know."

Of course he knows. He knows what this man has had to do.

"I am... deeply sorry. That this task falls to your hands again."
goingtobeunwell: (arctic. one handed wonder)

Re: Afterward

[personal profile] goingtobeunwell 2024-01-25 08:28 pm (UTC)(link)
“As it was in the Arctic,” he repeats, sounding haunted. Goodsir may have a healthy sense self-preservation this time, but all it does is make him sick with guilt and burden. “Christ. Christ, I can’t do it again-”

Crozier presses the heel of his hand into his eyes.
castitas: (025)

[personal profile] castitas 2024-01-26 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
"I should be thanking you. We all should." Kate says quietly, squeezing his hand a little. "For doing this. I... can't imagine that was easy for you, even if this is the the kind of thing you know how to do."

Like, maybe it's different when it's someone you know.

"I'd ask if you were okay, but—" she suspects she already knows the answer, and her own smile is just as sad. What else does she say? "Are you okay?"
maintiensledroit: (vlcsnap-2023-11-27-15h59m29s118)

[personal profile] maintiensledroit 2024-01-26 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
"Doctor?"

The man speaking quietly, respectfully, is standing at the end of the pew. He's dressed in flannel and jeans, but he carries a tan Stetson hat against his side. And nearby, a large white wolf, sitting patiently. "Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt your thoughts."
ployboy: (And I ain't giving this fire)

[personal profile] ployboy 2024-01-26 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
It's nothing, and that's a damn lie if Tim has ever heard of one. The observers of this experiment (this is what the autopsy is, the diving into something unknown with faint hope of resurfacing with understanding of their world) skews young, but the affair has been smooth going so far.

Until the whole butter-fingers thing.

Autopsies are for the living, but Tim still frowns; the woman deserved a steady hand. Levi is quick to snap to service but Tim's eyes are on Goodsir.

"Sir," he demands with a quiet whisper of a word. "Doctor. You can take a minute to breathe. There's no need to rush the process but it is something that should be done to the best of your abilities."

And nothing less.

He'd said the same thing to Damian previously.
friendsfordinner: (maybe? dunno there)

[personal profile] friendsfordinner 2024-01-26 04:48 am (UTC)(link)
"I only asked a question," Hickey points out, with a little roll of his eyes.

There's a moment's pause before he decides to continue talking, mostly to hear himself talk.

"Whatever that is...bloody well vanished. Disappeared into thin air. Something that can instill terror with it's very presence but vanish when you try to seek it out. Just like the Arctic, hmm? Just like what we're used to."

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