[Erhard rarely swears, but when he's this tired and rattled, it slips out. First Takumi's injury and now this? Are all the plants on this godforsaken island toxic? Frowning, he carefully takes Natsuno's arm and looks it over closely.]
Definitely contact dermatitis. Have you washed your skin and changed your clothes yet?
[ There's no cuts or abrasions, but the skin around the rash is awfully pale. No abnormal temperature either,the surrounding skin warmer than the rest of his arm as expected. His complexion in general is pallid, but that doesn't seem to be a result of the poison oak. His other arm has a similar rash if inspected. ]
Yeah, this is from last night. I expected it to go away by now but it hasn't. [ The woes of having your healing factor suppressed.]
Dermatitis from urushiol irritation can take one to three weeks to heal. The only thing you can do is try to mitigate the swelling and itching somewhat.
[He gets up and goes into his bathroom, returning shortly with a pair of washcloths soaked in cold water. Gently he lays the damp but not dripping cloths over the rashy patches.]
Cold wet compresses for twenty to thirty minutes a few times a day. Let me see if there's calamine lotion or hydrocortisone cream in the first aid kit.
[Back into the bathroom he goes, coming back with a plastic tube of topical medication.]
Sparing application of this over the affected areas twice daily. It might sting more if you've scratched your skin raw, so try not to. If you see any purulent drainage, even a small amount, let me know immediately. This sort of rash can become infected if you're not careful.
[ ...weeks? Augh, he does his best to hide his surprise. What a pain. ]
Got it, thanks. [ Maybe the itch of the rash will distract him from his constant hunger, or maybe it will just make it worse. Either way, he'll find out soon enough. ]
That would be a good idea. At least your symptoms aren't as severe as Takumi's. There are trees here marked with X's that are far more toxic than poison oak.
[Erhard sits down across from Natsuno again, fixing that intense gaze on the teen.]
I've been trying to get a baseline on everyone here, to see if the SCP responsible for this causes any symptoms that develop the longer we're trapped. Would you consent to at least a cursory examination?
...sure, I guess. [ He meets Erdhard's gaze easily but then looks away to a point on the wall. ] It's been a while since I've had anyone but the SCPs dogs look at me.
[ Apparently Natsuno trusts him enough to be fully compliant, at least for now. If anything, he might be just a touch too curious, and he watches Erhard's movements closely as the examination begins. His pulse is slow—sluggish enough to draw some concern without being too alarming. ]
Your pulse is slow. Sometimes that can occur if you're in peak physical condition, your resting heart rate will be low. You're rather pale, too. Any history of anemia?
[He gently tilts Natsuno's head toward the light and looks into his eyes.]
...you could say that. [ He lets out a breath, lips quirking upward. While a penlight would work wonders here, it's clear that even with this lighting his pupil reaction isn't normal. There's something reflective about his eyes though it might just be a trick of the light, and his pupils are more constricted than is normal for this level of luminescence. ]
I can see just fine, sensei. [ He sure just did skip over answering the first question for the second. Blame anon for this, because he's learned that if you answer everything the conversation takes weird turns. Well, that and he's not the keenest on answering too. ]
[Erhard keeps trying to get a good look in Natsuno's pupils, but the lighting just isn't good enough. Still, it's enough to see there's something odd.]
You have something in both eyes. I wish I could get a better look....
[He tilts Natsuno's head a bit and catches a brief reflection that reminds him of a cat's eyes.]
What kind of doctor are you, sensei? [ The question isn't biting, but it is blunt. And while he's been generally submissive up to this point, he shoots Erhard a look that could just be typical teenager or something else entirely. ]
[ Nodding, he seems to accept that answer and leans back into the chair. ]
Isn't that something you should be asking an ophthalmologist and not me? I can see just fine, like I told you. My old doctor in Sotoba knew that better than anyone else and he was just a general practitioner.
[... he's an agent for the Foundation. He's been studying SCPs for the last few months. He himself is an instance, created by an SCP from fiction. The only reason he's denying the possible explanations for Natsuno's eyes is that he's still trying to think the way he did as a doctor and not an agent.
Erhard swallows and fixes the teenager with a stare as level as he can manage. He has to shatter his own reality in order to understand.]
Tapetum lucidum. Cat's eye. Your eyes are abnormal because... you're abnormal. You're not human.
[ The whole time Natsuno waits patiently, never breaking his gaze. Funny, he had played out this exact scenario once before in many parts. It all a bit silly really, to be going to these lengths and not just spit it out like he normally would. But is it his fault he wanted to draw out what happened to a pleasant memory?
Thinking of Tohru makes him bitter and angry. Thinking of Akira and Kaori makes him feel heavy and weighted down. Thinking of Ozaki well—it's enough to bring him some twisted sense of joy in how they managed to eradicate a living plague upon Sotoba together. Who cares if that plague was made up of trillions and trillions of cells instead of a virus?
His lips press together in a thin smile, and his eyes gleam bright red. ]
Nice job, sensei. The Ozaki Clinic really could have used someone like you around.
[Erhard's lips press into a thin line as well, but he doesn't smile. He never does, why start now? It's to his benefit that he doesn't feel fear the way most people do, rarely shows it outwardly, but this is one of those rare moments where apprehension kicks all of his analytical faculties into high gear.
Of course, those faculties are still screaming that this is impossible, it's not medical science, it's not happening. If he accepts it, then all his denials will come crashing down at once, and certainly that will trigger an identity crisis the likes of which he can't imagine. It will force him to acknowledge that he was made to suffer at some cruel creator's whim, no omniscient god but a flawed human being.
Red eyes meet red eyes. For a moment, Erhard wonders if he's always been a monster and only now realizes it from looking into an inhuman mirror. Natsuno has always been quiet, an observer on the fringes. Is he actually one of their captors?]
This isn't a horror movie, but really, can he say that for certain? He's fictional, they all are. Every messed up part of their lives was crafted and forced onto them. They danced to their fates like puppets on tangled strings.
"Monster!"
"He'll kill us one day, I just know it!"
Erhard winces as the distorted voices shoot through his thoughts. He doesn't recognize them, but they sit perched on his brain, waiting for him to go mad. He's a scientist of a sort, seeking knowledge to lead him and all those like him toward a singular goal: to conquer death. His own life means little beyond that.
His hands clench in his lap. He swallows back the anxiety and forces out two words that he knows could lead him to ruin.]
[ All of his life, he's had a problem with authority and societal norms. Respect others, work for the group not yourself, do what is asked of you. They're all things Natsuno hates, not because he's opposed to doing them, but because he's opposed to doing them because it's what it is expected. Erhard's words are another ask, another interaction he wants to turn down because he sees no immediate justification in doing it. Worse yet, beyond all of that? It's dangerous.
There's no point. There's no point in pleasantries when you don't actually give a damn about someone, there's no point in accepting a gift from a dead girl who stalked you day in and day out. There's no point in giving in to the curiosity of someone who puts knowledge first and everything else last. Even if they remind him of the only other person who's never questioned him before.There's really no point. Except—
The hunger in his core pulses violently, crawling from his chest to his extremities. How long had it been since he's eaten? "Too long", supplies a voice in his head. "What's stopping you?" supplies another. The answer is on his tongue, even as he feels incisors slide down and his vision tint with deep blues that aren't necessary in this bright light. He doesn't need a mirror to know what he looks like—what he feels like—schlera black, irises red, needle shark fangs protruding from his lips.
By the time his mind's voice answers, he's already moved from the chair, lighting fast, hands pulling at white course fabric. His grip loosens as, but not before offering a glimpse of what strength hides behind muscles that shouldn't hold any at all. ]
You should be more careful, sensei. Curiosity could cost you your life, like it did for me.
[Vampire, his numbed brain helpfully supplies. Of course that's what he is. It shouldn't be shocking when none of us are even real.
Red and red, black and white... they remain locked, and if Natsuno knows what it's like to feel tired of life, he can see that same despair in Erhard's eyes. The doctor hides most of that bleakness from the others, but now in the face of a lethal threat, there's no point.
The words come softly, flat and lifeless, and he's so tired.]
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[Erhard rarely swears, but when he's this tired and rattled, it slips out. First Takumi's injury and now this? Are all the plants on this godforsaken island toxic? Frowning, he carefully takes Natsuno's arm and looks it over closely.]
Definitely contact dermatitis. Have you washed your skin and changed your clothes yet?
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Yeah, this is from last night. I expected it to go away by now but it hasn't. [ The woes of having your healing factor suppressed.]
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[He gets up and goes into his bathroom, returning shortly with a pair of washcloths soaked in cold water. Gently he lays the damp but not dripping cloths over the rashy patches.]
Cold wet compresses for twenty to thirty minutes a few times a day. Let me see if there's calamine lotion or hydrocortisone cream in the first aid kit.
[Back into the bathroom he goes, coming back with a plastic tube of topical medication.]
Sparing application of this over the affected areas twice daily. It might sting more if you've scratched your skin raw, so try not to. If you see any purulent drainage, even a small amount, let me know immediately. This sort of rash can become infected if you're not careful.
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Got it, thanks. [ Maybe the itch of the rash will distract him from his constant hunger, or maybe it will just make it worse. Either way, he'll find out soon enough. ]
Guess I won't be climbing trees here anymore.
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[Erhard sits down across from Natsuno again, fixing that intense gaze on the teen.]
I've been trying to get a baseline on everyone here, to see if the SCP responsible for this causes any symptoms that develop the longer we're trapped. Would you consent to at least a cursory examination?
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...sure, I guess. [ He meets Erdhard's gaze easily but then looks away to a point on the wall. ] It's been a while since I've had anyone but the SCPs dogs look at me.
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[Erhard starts by checking Natsuno's pulse. He wishes he could do full auscultation but he doesn't have a stethoscope.]
Any dizziness, blurred vision, ringing in the ears, headaches?
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Unless you count the "trial" the other day, no.
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[He gently tilts Natsuno's head toward the light and looks into his eyes.]
Wish I had a penlight for this.
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[Odd, pupillary response is abnormal. There are several neurological issues that could cause it, as well as head trauma or drugs.]
Do you have cataracts or other ocular defects?
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You have something in both eyes. I wish I could get a better look....
[He tilts Natsuno's head a bit and catches a brief reflection that reminds him of a cat's eyes.]
What the--?!
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[He imagined it, that's all. Humans don't have eyeshine.
But there are nonhumans in the Foundation. Shadow isn't anywhere near human. Which means Natsuno could be....]
I'm a general surgeon. I also studied virology. Why do your eyes reflect like that?
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Isn't that something you should be asking an ophthalmologist and not me? I can see just fine, like I told you. My old doctor in Sotoba knew that better than anyone else and he was just a general practitioner.
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Erhard swallows and fixes the teenager with a stare as level as he can manage. He has to shatter his own reality in order to understand.]
Tapetum lucidum. Cat's eye. Your eyes are abnormal because... you're abnormal. You're not human.
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Thinking of Tohru makes him bitter and angry. Thinking of Akira and Kaori makes him feel heavy and weighted down. Thinking of Ozaki well—it's enough to bring him some twisted sense of joy in how they managed to eradicate a living plague upon Sotoba together. Who cares if that plague was made up of trillions and trillions of cells instead of a virus?
His lips press together in a thin smile, and his eyes gleam bright red. ]
Nice job, sensei. The Ozaki Clinic really could have used someone like you around.
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Of course, those faculties are still screaming that this is impossible, it's not medical science, it's not happening. If he accepts it, then all his denials will come crashing down at once, and certainly that will trigger an identity crisis the likes of which he can't imagine. It will force him to acknowledge that he was made to suffer at some cruel creator's whim, no omniscient god but a flawed human being.
Red eyes meet red eyes. For a moment, Erhard wonders if he's always been a monster and only now realizes it from looking into an inhuman mirror. Natsuno has always been quiet, an observer on the fringes. Is he actually one of their captors?]
... what are you...?
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Something that shouldn't exist. The dead are never meant to come back to life, but we did anyway.
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This isn't a horror movie, but really, can he say that for certain? He's fictional, they all are. Every messed up part of their lives was crafted and forced onto them. They danced to their fates like puppets on tangled strings.
"Monster!"
"He'll kill us one day, I just know it!"
Erhard winces as the distorted voices shoot through his thoughts. He doesn't recognize them, but they sit perched on his brain, waiting for him to go mad. He's a scientist of a sort, seeking knowledge to lead him and all those like him toward a singular goal: to conquer death. His own life means little beyond that.
His hands clench in his lap. He swallows back the anxiety and forces out two words that he knows could lead him to ruin.]
Show me.
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There's no point. There's no point in pleasantries when you don't actually give a damn about someone, there's no point in accepting a gift from a dead girl who stalked you day in and day out. There's no point in giving in to the curiosity of someone who puts knowledge first and everything else last. Even if they remind him of the only other person who's never questioned him before.There's really no point.
Except—
The hunger in his core pulses violently, crawling from his chest to his extremities. How long had it been since he's eaten? "Too long", supplies a voice in his head. "What's stopping you?" supplies another. The answer is on his tongue, even as he feels incisors slide down and his vision tint with deep blues that aren't necessary in this bright light. He doesn't need a mirror to know what he looks like—what he feels like—schlera black, irises red, needle shark fangs protruding from his lips.
By the time his mind's voice answers, he's already moved from the chair, lighting fast, hands pulling at white course fabric. His grip loosens as, but not before offering a glimpse of what strength hides behind muscles that shouldn't hold any at all. ]
You should be more careful, sensei. Curiosity could cost you your life, like it did for me.
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Red and red, black and white... they remain locked, and if Natsuno knows what it's like to feel tired of life, he can see that same despair in Erhard's eyes. The doctor hides most of that bleakness from the others, but now in the face of a lethal threat, there's no point.
The words come softly, flat and lifeless, and he's so tired.]
I'm practically dead anyway.
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I'd tell you to join the club, but it's really not all it's made out to be.
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Understandable why you would keep this a secret. The others would consider you a prime suspect if someone else dies.
[If, not when. He has to believe the tragedy of the weekend wonโt be repeated. Otherwise he might lose what little hope he has.]
How long have you been like this?
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