[he's getting used to men materializing into his thoughts, mystical or otherwise. Jin Guangyao endeavours to keep a polite distance from his own pain while conversing, but it is--difficult. almost as difficult as it is to think.]
Yes. [a beat, and then,] Forgive me, xiansheng, we have not been introduced.
Dr. Stephen Strange. [ Even heavier on the doctor than usual today, to impress the relevance of his telepathic visit. ] I'd like to pay a visit if you don't mind.
[he does mind--to be seen like this by a stranger, however well-intentioned, makes his gut twist--but he has no leverage to refuse. Jin Guangyao forces courteous gratitude into his reply.]
Of course, yisheng. [a new honorific to go with Strange's title; he is a doctor, after all.] My house is second to last in a row before you reach the moot hall. Please, let me know when you arrive and I...
[he'll.. what? an unfortunately embarrassing moment for his symptoms to manifest; what was he saying?] ...my apologies, [he says, like he's about to say something else, but the words won't quite come to him.]
[his response takes a moment, likely due to the injury. still, he sounds... amenable, but perplexed.]
Strange-yisheng may use whatever means he prefers. [said politely, but uncertainly. he glances at his bedroom window, left ajar to let in some fresh-ish air. ...is he going to come in that way, or...?]
[ Maybe what follows still isn't the best way to not further agitate the patient, but the next moment there's a bright glow of amber light in the hall, and the moment after that there's a man appearing in the doorway.
Dr. Stephen Strange, to be exact. At least it's the right man. ]
Good. Right house. Hello.
[ And he'll be moving a little closer in to cast a diagnostic glance over Jin Guangyao, looking for traces of a wound before he gets to the rest. ]
[Jin Guangyao is startled by the sudden appearance of the glowing amber portal opening up before him where he lies in his bedroom, but he's perhaps less startled by it than others in this place might be. he starts to sit up from where he lies beneath the bedclothes, as well put together and neatly composed as he can manage while still being less than twenty-four hours out from getting hit on the head. there's a violently blue-black bruise above one eyebrow and disappearing beyond his hairline, along with bits of dried blood; someone clearly has been by to help him clean up and treat the injury, but that laceration should be examined by a doctor.
(there are two older scars in the same area; older by perhaps six or seven months, and healed. but this guy should probably try to get struck across the head less.]
Strange-yisheng, [he greets, and even with one pupil larger than the other one and his head screaming its pain at him along his nerves, Jin Guangyao can't help the focused gleam in his eyes as he marvels at that portal.] Please, forgive me for not getting up to greet you properly.
[ It doesn't take more than initial observations for Stephen to know that Jin Guangyao should not be getting up and moving about unnecessarily at the moment. The man's focus on his portal is useful, at least in allowing him to track his ability to focus at all, but he lets it spin shut as he crosses closer. Better not to split his focus now.
Stephen doesn't pause to check on comfort levels before reaching a lightly-tremoring hand to carefully tilt Jin Guangyao's chin up, holding him still to afford himself a better angle by which to inspect the wound, expression grave with a doctor's focus. ]
[the portal spins itself shut and disappears, leaving behind only a few eddies of amber sparks before those vanish, too. Jin Guangyao is still staring at the space in the air the portal had occupied when Stephen's fingertips on the underside of his chin jar him back to the present. he jolts very slightly, wide eyes sweeping up to the doctor's face as his chin is lifted, but holds himself still. the apple of his throat bobs in a nervous swallow; even here, he is not touched often.]
It is manageable, [is his only concession to the pain's existence at all, but it's also an obvious lie. Jin Guangyao's composure has taken a literal beating over the last twenty four hours; he is simply trying to retain his dignity, rather than deceive Stephen.] I am more concerned about my memory, and my concentration. My attention... wanders.
[ In the brief time they've been conversing, it's already happened once. Lost words, the end of a sentence trailing. Pain, at least, is more easily managed, something he'll get to soon. Frowning lightly, a sign of concentration rather than dis-ease, Stephen's free hand lifts to settle against against Jin Guangyao's cheek, a support for his thumb to hover as steadily as it can over the bruising at his brow. The laceration. ]
[it's an ugly-looking thing, the laceration, though thankfully mostly hidden beyond his hairline, and less severe than it looks. it's likely that the concussion is the result of a strike against a place he has already sustained head trauma in the recent past; the scars that the laceration overlaps with are older, but not that much older. half a year, give or take a few months.]
Vaguely. [Jin Guangyao holds himself very still beneath Stephen's fingertips, and though one pupil remains larger than the other, he does seem capable of focusing on the doctor's face as he conducts his examination.] Vladislav-xiansheng, the tailor, would not be deterred from trying to set the boarding house on fire. I tried to stop him, and then... his eyebrows draw together into a vague furrow.] The next thing I remember is Ningguang-guniang helping me home.
[ With Vladislav. It could have been worse than it was if he was left unimpeded.
Stephen hums his understanding and remains intent on the wound for a while longer, one long finger lifting to ease the hair aside over the cut, take stock of old scars. Content that the clean up was done well, that the wound isn't at any immediate risk of infection provided it's kept well tended, he lifts his hand away from Jin Guangyao's cheek for the time being. Releases his chin. ]
You did well to rest. [ Examining those watchful eyes with their uneven pupils, it isn't hard to confirm the diagnosis based on what he's already seen. ] Concussion's no joke.
[his eyes with their uneven pupils lower briefly in humble acknowledgement of Stephen's thanks--or at least in a socially appropriate approximation of humility, at any rate--before lifting again. the diagnosis doesn't seem to surprise him, though he is far from reassured by it.]
This humble one is grateful to you, Strange-yisheng. [the courtesy pronouns will never translate smoothly, but his tone of voice is soft and mellifluous. he purses his lips, then asks,] How long must I remain in bed? Churchwarden Mateus will need me at the moot hall.
[ There's a slip of not-quite-disapproval - recognition, maybe? - in his expression as Jin Guangyao angles gratitude directly back into seeking medical approval to go back to work. A poorly veiled exhale as Stephen's forced to acknowledge it would take a very healthy dose of hypocrisy to really chastise him for it, and he lays out his answer. ]
He can have you there in a few days provided you expose yourself to as little stress as possible in the meantime. You don't have to stay in bed the whole time if you want to busy yourself with something gentle, but while you're in pain I'd advise you stay close enough to it not to run any risks. No going outside without company. If anyone's going to trip and fall into an unnoticed Void tear, it'll be you.
[ He hasn't tested for dizziness and coordination yet, but spotting the Void in the dark is difficult enough when you're not nursing a head injury. ]
And you should have somebody with you for the next twelve hours, monitoring symptoms. [ A little late for it, but an important precaution nonetheless. ] Is there anyone you can ask? I can bring them here safely, or take you to them.
[he has the self-awareness to look modestly chastened by the subtle shift in Stephen's expression, though whether that will actually change his behaviour is up in the air. Jin Guangyao has been scolded once already for putting his work ahead of his own well-being, and it probably will not be the last time such a thing happens. but he would prefer not to run afoul of one of the town's only doctors by completely ignoring his medical advice, if he can help it.]
Quentin-gongzi, or Ningguang-guniang, [he answers, already closing his eyes against even the idea of the pain that reaching out to them will entail.] I can ask them if they are available.
[for a moment, it looks like he is trying to decide whether he wishes to invite either of his friends to come stay with him at his home, or whether he is considering risking the journey to stay with them instead. ...then his brows draw together into a little furrow over his eyes, and it becomes clear that he has, once more, lost his train of thought. flushing with embarrassment and frustration, Jin Guangyao looks away from Stephen and murmurs,] Forgive me, I seem to have... I can't remember.
[ Quentin's a name he can latch onto - he's seen Ningguang around, worked in her orbit during the fire, but it's not quite the same. Always feels better to leave a patient in the care of somebody you know to trust.
But then the thought gets lost somewhere. Stephen watches it go, mouth drawing down in concern and discontent. He's definitely going to have to insist on that observation. ]
It's alright. You were going to check in with Quentin or Ningguang, to see if they have time to stay with you. I'd suggest the best course of action if he agrees would be for me to take you to Quentin's apartment.
[ Quentin work is important even at the best of times, he's bound to be busy, but that doesn't have to make this impossible. ]
Thank you, yisheng. [humiliation burns in his cheeks, but he swallows down his frustration at himself rather than letting it show in his eyes. he is grateful that Stephen simply supplies the missing link in the chain of his thoughts, rather than drawing attention to the fact that the chain was broken; it isn't often that he meets westerners here who grant him face when he so direly needs it.
he marshals his composure.] I will reach out to Quentin-gongzi. Just a moment, please. [said not quite with pitch perfect 'please hold' energy, but it's pretty close. his mismatched gaze goes a bit vague for a moment, just long enough for him to have quickly reached out to Quentin and offered his explanation, and then he sighs, closing his eyes again and frowning at the ache in his head.]
He will let me stay with him. [carefully (and still bewilderingly graceful in spite of his concussion), Jin Guangyao slips out from beneath the blankets and, holding onto the headboard of the bed, eases himself to his feet.] I have a bag of essentials already prepared, [he says,] so packing is not necessary, but I should feed the chickens before I leave. And the cat.
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poorlittlesange) wrote2023-11-25 10:03 am
march 8th
[ Hello, welcome to the sudden appearance of a mystical medical professional in your mindscape. ]
no subject
Yes. [a beat, and then,] Forgive me, xiansheng, we have not been introduced.
no subject
[ It doesn't actually sound like he's asking. ]
no subject
Of course, yisheng. [a new honorific to go with Strange's title; he is a doctor, after all.] My house is second to last in a row before you reach the moot hall. Please, let me know when you arrive and I...
[he'll.. what? an unfortunately embarrassing moment for his symptoms to manifest; what was he saying?] ...my apologies, [he says, like he's about to say something else, but the words won't quite come to him.]
no subject
Are you comfortable with me entering the property without using the door?
[ Best not to startle him and do extra harm, but he'd rather not get him up to let him in. ]
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Strange-yisheng may use whatever means he prefers. [said politely, but uncertainly. he glances at his bedroom window, left ajar to let in some fresh-ish air. ...is he going to come in that way, or...?]
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Dr. Stephen Strange, to be exact. At least it's the right man. ]
Good. Right house. Hello.
[ And he'll be moving a little closer in to cast a diagnostic glance over Jin Guangyao, looking for traces of a wound before he gets to the rest. ]
no subject
(there are two older scars in the same area; older by perhaps six or seven months, and healed. but this guy should probably try to get struck across the head less.]
Strange-yisheng, [he greets, and even with one pupil larger than the other one and his head screaming its pain at him along his nerves, Jin Guangyao can't help the focused gleam in his eyes as he marvels at that portal.] Please, forgive me for not getting up to greet you properly.
no subject
[ It doesn't take more than initial observations for Stephen to know that Jin Guangyao should not be getting up and moving about unnecessarily at the moment. The man's focus on his portal is useful, at least in allowing him to track his ability to focus at all, but he lets it spin shut as he crosses closer. Better not to split his focus now.
Stephen doesn't pause to check on comfort levels before reaching a lightly-tremoring hand to carefully tilt Jin Guangyao's chin up, holding him still to afford himself a better angle by which to inspect the wound, expression grave with a doctor's focus. ]
How's your pain?
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It is manageable, [is his only concession to the pain's existence at all, but it's also an obvious lie. Jin Guangyao's composure has taken a literal beating over the last twenty four hours; he is simply trying to retain his dignity, rather than deceive Stephen.] I am more concerned about my memory, and my concentration. My attention... wanders.
no subject
[ In the brief time they've been conversing, it's already happened once. Lost words, the end of a sentence trailing. Pain, at least, is more easily managed, something he'll get to soon. Frowning lightly, a sign of concentration rather than dis-ease, Stephen's free hand lifts to settle against against Jin Guangyao's cheek, a support for his thumb to hover as steadily as it can over the bruising at his brow. The laceration. ]
Do you remember the impact?
no subject
Vaguely. [Jin Guangyao holds himself very still beneath Stephen's fingertips, and though one pupil remains larger than the other, he does seem capable of focusing on the doctor's face as he conducts his examination.] Vladislav-xiansheng, the tailor, would not be deterred from trying to set the boarding house on fire. I tried to stop him, and then... his eyebrows draw together into a vague furrow.] The next thing I remember is Ningguang-guniang helping me home.
no subject
[ With Vladislav. It could have been worse than it was if he was left unimpeded.
Stephen hums his understanding and remains intent on the wound for a while longer, one long finger lifting to ease the hair aside over the cut, take stock of old scars. Content that the clean up was done well, that the wound isn't at any immediate risk of infection provided it's kept well tended, he lifts his hand away from Jin Guangyao's cheek for the time being. Releases his chin. ]
You did well to rest. [ Examining those watchful eyes with their uneven pupils, it isn't hard to confirm the diagnosis based on what he's already seen. ] Concussion's no joke.
no subject
This humble one is grateful to you, Strange-yisheng. [the courtesy pronouns will never translate smoothly, but his tone of voice is soft and mellifluous. he purses his lips, then asks,] How long must I remain in bed? Churchwarden Mateus will need me at the moot hall.
no subject
He can have you there in a few days provided you expose yourself to as little stress as possible in the meantime. You don't have to stay in bed the whole time if you want to busy yourself with something gentle, but while you're in pain I'd advise you stay close enough to it not to run any risks. No going outside without company. If anyone's going to trip and fall into an unnoticed Void tear, it'll be you.
[ He hasn't tested for dizziness and coordination yet, but spotting the Void in the dark is difficult enough when you're not nursing a head injury. ]
And you should have somebody with you for the next twelve hours, monitoring symptoms. [ A little late for it, but an important precaution nonetheless. ] Is there anyone you can ask? I can bring them here safely, or take you to them.
no subject
Quentin-gongzi, or Ningguang-guniang, [he answers, already closing his eyes against even the idea of the pain that reaching out to them will entail.] I can ask them if they are available.
[for a moment, it looks like he is trying to decide whether he wishes to invite either of his friends to come stay with him at his home, or whether he is considering risking the journey to stay with them instead. ...then his brows draw together into a little furrow over his eyes, and it becomes clear that he has, once more, lost his train of thought. flushing with embarrassment and frustration, Jin Guangyao looks away from Stephen and murmurs,] Forgive me, I seem to have... I can't remember.
no subject
But then the thought gets lost somewhere. Stephen watches it go, mouth drawing down in concern and discontent. He's definitely going to have to insist on that observation. ]
It's alright. You were going to check in with Quentin or Ningguang, to see if they have time to stay with you. I'd suggest the best course of action if he agrees would be for me to take you to Quentin's apartment.
[ Quentin work is important even at the best of times, he's bound to be busy, but that doesn't have to make this impossible. ]
no subject
he marshals his composure.] I will reach out to Quentin-gongzi. Just a moment, please. [said not quite with pitch perfect 'please hold' energy, but it's pretty close. his mismatched gaze goes a bit vague for a moment, just long enough for him to have quickly reached out to Quentin and offered his explanation, and then he sighs, closing his eyes again and frowning at the ache in his head.]
He will let me stay with him. [carefully (and still bewilderingly graceful in spite of his concussion), Jin Guangyao slips out from beneath the blankets and, holding onto the headboard of the bed, eases himself to his feet.] I have a bag of essentials already prepared, [he says,] so packing is not necessary, but I should feed the chickens before I leave. And the cat.