2. Well, I might call you Doctor.

[bestsir]

Who: Harry Goodsir and OPEN
What: Doctor's hours
Where: Harry's cabin, around town
When: Anytime during October, early November
Warnings: TBD

It's taken some weeks—including the awful voices and even, ironically, the words of Cornelius Hickey—for Goodsir to finally act on advice he'd given to Edward Little when they'd first arrived.

He starts by placing a notice on the board. Then he starts scavenging the town for all the medical supplies he can find, consolidating a store of them in his cabin. What he does manage to find, in combination with the contents of his surgeon's chest, isn't nearly as much as he would like, but it will do.

He has learned much, these last few weeks. That disease and infection is caused not by miasma, by tiny animalcules that may be spread by various forms of contact, and that wounds must be kept clean—disinfected—thus averting festering and gangrene. That there are compounds in food that keep the body healthy, and that not all foods contain those compounds. He tries not to dwell on the lives he might have saved with that knowledge on the expedition, and to focus on the here and now. As he said to Little: to live, and do what good he can.

And to try not to let his hatred of Cornelius Hickey consume him.

Comments

[friendsfordinner]

"I just wanted to see your situation," said with a smile that can only be described as 'shit-eating' and 'troublesome.' He's very visibly taking a look around Goodsir's house, trying to get as much information as he can, reveling in the fact that he's a pest.

"After all, who knows. I might need to enlist the help of your skills. Easy enough for a man to be injured hunting or trapping. You wouldn't deny being of use to your fellow stranded, would you?"

[bestsir]

Goodsir has cleared some shelves and arranged various boxes and crates there, labelled with things like BANDAGES and DISINFECTANTS and MEDICINES. This front room of the cabin was once a sort of living and dining space, but is now on its way to becoming an examination room.

One that Goodsir would very much like to not have polluted with Hickey's presence.

"I would be remiss if I didn't provide aid where it was needed," he says. Which Hickey will undoubtedly see for the evasive answer it is, but Goodsir doesn't really care.

[friendsfordinner]

It is a remarkably evasive answer. Hickey walks inside, taking a look at everything, before sitting down on top of one of those crates, absolutely polluting the vibe of the examination room.

"You know, I missed out on some of these crates. Glad you manage to find some." And hey, don't mind Hickey as he looks over at the crate labeled 'medicine.' He really wants to see what's in there.

"You've been busy. Not just here, but with chatting up those here. I talked with Miss Kate Marsh recently."

[bestsir]

The contents of the "medicine" crate are mostly plastic bottles—the pain medications and other tablets and things gathered from around the town. The more dangerous compounds are tucked safely away elsewhere.

At the mention of Kate's name, Goodsir almost flinches.

"Miss Marsh did tell me she'd spoken to you," he says, giving Hickey a very direct look. Go on then. Tell me your version of it.

[friendsfordinner]

"Really?"

Oh color him interested.

"What did she say?"

[bestsir]

Goodsir considers a moment, then shrugs.

"I heard from her that you've decided to be generous with your supplies," he says, as if that was all they'd spoken of. As if he hadn't warned her away from Hickey, or she hadn't repeated his comments about morals and practicals.

[friendsfordinner]

"Indeed I have," he says, with a nod. "This doesn't have to be like before, Goodsir. If everyone does their part, if they play their role and help the greater community, I see no reason why we can't all flourish in peace."

They're nice words. However, they do nothing to hide the smarmy tone and slight hint of venom in Hickey's voice as he says them. You're gonna play your role, right Goodsir? You're gonna not do anything stupid and rat out the mutiny to everybody here, right Goodsir????

[bestsir]

And Goodsir can read all those unspoken words, and it grates at him. Oh, how he'd love to ensure that word of Hickey's misdeeds were spread far and wide. But he knows that were he to do so, his own sins would be laid out for all to see. And that is a thing that he does not want hanging over him.

"And that is why I have opened my door to any who may need aid," he says, struggling to maintain his composure. "I want nothing more than peace within this community, Mr. Hickey. There is enough danger from without. And to that end, I will of course do whatever is necessary."

There's no overt venom in Goodsir's tone, but his meaning is plain enough: put one foot wrong, Mr. Hickey, and I will not stand for it.

[friendsfordinner]

"As will I," Hickey nods. "As far as I can tell, there's no need for people to start any trouble."

He is enjoying the hell out of this. What must be going through Goodsir's head, what must he be thinking, as Hickey says all this. How he'll want to tell everybody, how he must want to slander Hickey to the high heavens. But Hickey's not an idiot. He knows that Goodsir's in the exact same position he is. Mention one of his sins, he'll mention one right back.

"I'm not the one you need to worry about," he shrugs.

[bestsir]

"No?" Goodsir raises an eyebrow. "You sound like a man with suspicions of his own."

Or a proven record of sowing dissent.

[friendsfordinner]

"I know which of our number will decide to break this little uneasy truce first," he muses, with a little nod. Though Goodsir might be surprised at the assessment as Hickey answers,

"After all, our former Lieutenant still clings the most to what once was."

[bestsir]

Goodsir is surprised—and yet, after a moment's consideration, not. Little, he suspects, may be afflicted with a need to prove himself—to lay out justice that he was unable to give before, as a form of atonement perhaps.

And if he does act, Goodsir's not sure that he'd be willing to stop him.

But all right. He'll play along with Hickey's game for now. "I see. Very interesting. I wonder if I ought to have a word, as I have the man's ear, after all."

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey, who is always right and has done nothing wrong ever in his life, knows that Goodsir's realized he's right. Edward Little, who even now still clings to the vanities of command. Who tries so hard to live up to a role he never should have gotten. Obviously he's going to break.

"Words won't mean anything unless you have the will to act," Hickey points out. He does. Even Goodsir, for all his piety and holier-than-thou attitude also does. Little? Doesn't.

[bestsir]

"That may depend in part on what action is called for," Goodsir says. "I will speak to him, at the very least, and try to understand his mind."

And let him know that Hickey's spreading slander. Again.

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey's causing trouble, must be a day that ends in Y.

"Best of luck with that," says the man who isn't gonna do shit. "Now, unless there's something else you want from me? I think we can say this conversation is over and done—until next time, of course. We're stuck with each other, after all."

[bestsir]

That they are. Goodsir can't keep a grimace off his face.

"There's nothing that I want from you, Mr. Hickey, that your absence couldn't solve."

[friendsfordinner]

That grimace means that Hickey responds with a smile that could be described as crafty, could be described as shit-eating, and could be described as annoying. At the moment, he will happily settle for annoying the piss out of Goodsir.

"Harsh words," he teases. "But I'll take my leave. And probably see you again...mmm, tomorrow? Or the day after?"

But true to his word, he does start to head out.

[bestsir]

Goodsir decides he's not going to dignify that bait with an answer, and merely waits, wordlessly, until the door closes behind Hickey.