(no subject)

[spacepeterpan]

The Doctor
Research Center Supervisor
Scientist: Dimensional Engineering, Sonic Devices, Telepathic Interfaces, et. al.
Time Lord
Special U.N.I.T. Science Adviser
Caretaker
Traveler Through All of Time and Space
Knight of the Royal Victorian Order
Former Lord-President of Gallifrey
Inventor of Yorkshire Pudding
Alias: The Oncoming Storm
Harry Feynman's Boss
Here to Help

Comments

Re: [Audio]

[rycbaralaska]

[ If he finds that disconcerting, he's about to be even more so. ]

I can't see. Anything. At all.

[spacepeterpan]

...sorry, whot?

[Well, he's a bit thrown off, there.]

How- what happened? Are you all right? I mean, otherwise, obviously.

[rycbaralaska]

I was in the middle of work and everything went black.

I don't know.

[spacepeterpan]

Went black... ah. Yes, right, sorry, hold still, I'll be right there, no, hold on, is everything else all right, though, are you feeling anything else that's not right?

[He's already moving, and quickly, but there's no need to say that and make it seem more urgent than it has to.]

[rycbaralaska]

...isn't that enough? [ Though, by the time he's gotten there, she'll have lost all feeling in her hands. ]

[spacepeterpan]

Ah, well, probably, but that's not quite the point, need to pin down your symptoms, not sure which details might be important, yet, so, anything else that feels wrong, senses, moods, hazy memories, thoughts that don't follow, whatever you can think of.

[Not that she can see it--or feel it in her hands directly, although her arms can surely feel the motion--but he approaches her in short order, reaching to take her hands in his and raising them a little, his voice calm and comforting as he peers at her, looking for any externally visible or palpable clues.]

Oswin, I'm here. You think you can walk if I guide you?

[rycbaralaska]

[ Well, she definetly can't see him or feel his hands in his judging by how badly she starts when he speaks and it isn't over the TC. Despite the lack of stimuli, her eyes are still darting about. Like they're trying and failing to find anything to focus on. ]

I think so. Yeah, I think I can.

[spacepeterpan]

[He stares at her a second longer, then glances downward, taking a brief moment to compose himself. She can't see it, so it's the best opportunity to do so.]

...good, all right, it's just this way.

[He starts walking, slowly, guiding her gently by her hands.]

So, was there, is there, anything else--anything else that's.. off, somehow--big or small?

[rycbaralaska]

[ If he's unnerved or in any way upset, there'd be no way for her to tell visually. ]

I can't feel anything. But I think I have a fever.

[spacepeterpan]

[No, nope, he's fine, nothing wrong here, he's okay, he's always okay, he's the king of okay.]

Ah... right, well, I'll check once we get you a lie-down, eh? I s'pose it's best we don't get you a snack if you're losing your tactile sense, as well, what about others, though, smell, or taste, maybe something soft, a milkshake, orrr custard, perhaps with fish-fingers...

[A brief pause as though he's distracted himself from his own train of thought.]

......ah, no, probably not fish-fingers, not just now anyway, sorry, where was I..?

[rycbaralaska]

[ If he's the king of okay, does that make her the countess of chaos? Check that, it sounds terrifying. ]

...fish fingers with custard?

[ She can't even begin to imagine what that would even taste like, but congratulations, Doctor. You've distracted her. ]

[spacepeterpan]

[She gets his usual amusingly exasperated tone in answer, as though he thinks she's answering his question.]

Well, yes, I know that, maybe you can have some when you're better, but I meant where was I before that.

[rycbaralaska]

...I'm not sure. [ She genuinely isn't. A little hard to follow when she can't see, The Doctor. ]

[spacepeterpan]

[He pauses just a tick at that--that's decidedly not the answer he was hoping for, but he's committed to playing it cool.]

...ah, yes, right, sorry, was wondering if you can taste, we could get you a milkshake, something you can drink to hold you over.

[rycbaralaska]

After or before the clinic? [ If she can't smell, she thinks the taste sense is probably gone as well. But...doesn't hurt to check, right? ]

[spacepeterpan]

[He brightens just a little at what might possibly be a little enthusiasm over milkshakes.]

Well, let's get you to the clinic, first, just in case, and I'll see what I can do 'bout the milkshake.

[rycbaralaska]

Okay. Maybe this is just some weird space virus? [ That'd be great, right? Something the clinic has an easy fix for. ]

[spacepeterpan]

Ah.. yes, might be one of those.

[...although not one that he knows about, which narrows the field quite a bit--but there are always new things, of course, which have the bonus of not being the things he's hoping they're not.]

[rycbaralaska]

If it is, they'll probably know how to fix it.

[spacepeterpan]

They might just, yeah, with a little luck.

[Even if not, there were worse things than an unfamiliar new sort of space-flu. He made no comment about that, though, as he walked her carefully up to the clinic and inside, guiding her through the door.]