Gull asks Rosco for a favour

[Gull]

Time stamp: a week or so after the Gauntlet

Gull dips his ladle into a steaming pot of stew and delicately samples the broth. Satisfied, he replaces the lid and leaves dinner to simmer. He leans his elbows on the serving counter and surveys the inn.

It's good to be cooking again, although it's not really about the cooking itself. Rudi finally cleared him to return to his kitchen duties this morning, and he's eager to show her that he's "quite well now, thank you all the same." She's been doting on him all week, filling him with equal parts gratitude and embarrassment. A successful dinner service would go a long way in showing her that he can be her friend once more, rather than her patient.

His smile fades a bit when he sees Rosco organizing his surgery kit at the corner table. Rosco has been... unhappy with Gull's state this past week. Though Rosco worked hard to conceal it and to only show his genuine concern for Gull's well-being, Gull knows him well enough to detect the undercurrent of anger. His memories surrounding the end of the Gauntlet are murky at best, but Gull does remember being rebuked rather harshly by Rosco, even if the details are lost to him. Something about him being reckless.

To be fair, Rosco has a point. For days following his intervention (whatever that was), Gull could only manage a couple hours of wakefulness a day, and it was a bit of a coin toss how lucid he would be at any given moment. He has the sneaking suspicion that he called Rosco by the wrong name more than once. Fortunately, Rosco has been gracious enough not to bring it up.

All that to say that Gull owes Rosco amends of some kind. Something to demonstrate responsibility or caution. And, you know, maybe actually help him actually be more responsible and cautious. Maybe. If he has to.

Gull sighs and makes his way over to Rosco's table only to find himself not entirely certain how to broach the subject. He hovers a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, uncharacteristically at a loss for a pithy comment.

[Rosco Agassi]

Anger is the easiest emotion to feel.

It's a statement Rosco has surely made to Gull before, and a common answer to the question "Why?". It is easier to feel angry than it is to feel hurt, or sad, or worried. It's easier to be angry than it is to do most things. It is also an easy way to get yourself in trouble.

Regardless, Rosco has spent his week post gauntlet feeling a whole lot of emotions, and though each one translates to anger there is no denying the concern he holds for Gull. The after effects witnessed were not something of mild proportions, he can only continue to imagine the events that led up to them.

Gull doesn't remember that Rosco had plans to go back home for the month, that part of the early morning conversation escaped him, and perhaps that is for the best. This way, he can get away with the fact that he's staying in town "on business". Things to learn, he says to others - yet he hasn't strayed far from Gull's sight.

The boys are somewhere in the woods and Rosco is taking the moment of relative solitude to shuffle through his surgical kit. He tosses used bandages to the side for Keket to clean later, shakes maggots and leeches in their bottles to make sure they're still alive and most importantly; struggles to squish the lot of it back into place once he is done. He's never been a light packer.

"Hi Gull!" He looks up, though he doesn't have to in order to know who it is in front of him; the bard has an aura about him that makes him impossible to miss.

[Gull]

"Evening, Rosco." Gull flashes a stage-worthy grin. "Need a hand?" He nods at the kit, still not quite closed and full to bursting. A stray vial rolls off the edge of the table and Gull darts out a hand to catch it, hoping Rosco notices that the act requires agility and alertness so if things had been all that bad, he wouldn't have managed it, so there's nothing to be upset about, it was never as serious as it had maybe seemed, clearly.

Gull holds up the vial to the light and squints. "You know, I've always wondered about all your salves and preparations. Can't make heads nor tails of 'em, but you work miracles with the stuff." He sets it down on the table in front of Rosco, relieved to have found a tidy segue into his question. His smile grows slightly sheepish. "Although, I imagine I could probably pick up the basics. If you'd be so kind as to take on a student?"

He's not sure how Rosco will take the request. There's a chance he'll find it patronizing, but Gull hopes the surgeon will at least recognize the sincerity in his voice, whether or not he realizes Gull's full reasons for asking.

[Rosco Agassi]

Rosco is too focused on getting the kit closed to think about Gull's reaction time. The fact that the bard is up cooking, laughing and chatting is enough reassurance to him that things are on the mend. He's let Rudi deal with most of the logistics of it for fear of emotion getting in the way - she's better at sticking to the facts. And the facts of the matter were that Gull was almost back to himself, completely healed from....whatever events had transpired at the Gauntlet.

He looks up when Gull continues to speak, finally content as the metal latches connected to hold the kit together. He grins at the request, practically bouncing with excitement. He had heard tales of a time where Holdfast had near no medics and now, in the last months alone he had three people looking to him for training. It was about damn time. "Anyone can pick up the basics!" He beams.

Then he turns back to his surgical kit and the smile fades. Opening it and closing it was difficult. Surely they didn't need it to learn the basics, right? No, instead he digs through a bundle of pouches on his belt to produce some bandages and poultices - that should be enough. Gull isn't learning heart surgery, just how to keep someone from dying.

"You've used a poultice, right? Do you know the difference between that and a bandage?" He fiddles with the container, turning it over gently in his hands. For such a talented medic, he radiates an anxiety while trying to teach.

Is the question too simple? He worries for a moment that he is patronizing Gull, but figures it is best to start from square one.

[Gull]

Rosco's sudden enthusiasm surprises Gull, who can't help but laugh affectionately. The medic's joy is contagious and Gull's earlier trepidation melts away. Things are okay again and it's wonderful.

Gull pulls out a chair and sits on it backwards as Rosco begins his teaching. He listens attentively, especially when he notices Rosco's excitement morph into nerves. It's almost unbearably sweet how much the halfling cares, and Gull is eager to reassure his friend that he's doing a great job.

And indeed he is! Rosco has correctly estimated Gull's level of medical knowledge, which lies somewhere between none whatsoever and the absolute minimum. He's never tried to be a medic and though he had been a halfway competent nurse years ago, he has long since forgotten nearly everything. The bard is silently grateful that Rosco has begun with the most basic concepts so that he doesn't have to ask him to start simpler.

At the question, Gull shrugs and grins self-consciously. "Poultices are... stickier? That's the long and short of what I understand about them. I know the alchemists make poultices, Malva's forever reminding us of the emergency stash of them. Something in them wakes a person up, I think?" He giggles a little at his own ignorance. "Like I said: basics."

[Rosco Agassi]

Relief washes over Rosco as Gull gives such a positive response. There's no getting rid of the anxiety completely, but it does calm some nerves. In a way, ignorance is the best thing Gull could have brought to the table.

He turns the vial over in his hands a few times, seeming to have an internal debate about whether or not to open it. But, given the abundance of Athelas the alchemists have, he figures one wasted poultice wont hurt. He pops the cover to take out the bandage inside. "Stickier, yes, but they're sticky because of the alchemical properties. Athelas specifically is the main ingredient in your basic poultice, and it's used in a whole bunch of medicines too." He places it in Gull's hands for the bard to examine closer. "It's only good as long as it's touching you. The way it's combined...it's not meant for long term use. It'll stop you from dying, get you on your feet to go find a medic or a mage. But...one little tap from the wrong person and you're down again. It doesn't heal you. Some stronger poultices will, but you still have to be wearing them for them to work. I'm sure Malva's are incredibly strong....she's such a talented Alchemist."

He seems to once again lose himself in thought for a moment, watching the empty vial as he ponders. It's fleeting, and soon he's setting it back on the table and picking up the bandage instead. "Poultices can be used by anyone, that's why we have a stash. But a good medic - even just knowing the basics - knows how to stop someone from bleeding out with just these!"

The dirty bandages he had sorted from his kit earlier sit on the table, and he's careful not to touch them as he fiddles with the clean one in his hand. "I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Before you can do anything, you have to make sure of what you're looking at. See that they aren't dead yet. Have you ever taken someone's pulse?"

[Gull]

Gull unravels the poultice and runs a finger along the medicated surface. His skin tingles ever so slightly at the contact, a soothing combination of warmth and numbness that is familiar from more than a handful of battlefield patch-ups in Holdfast. He sniffs the mixture and is greeted with a sweet, lightly floral scent that immediately conjures vivid memories of Sencel. "Athelas," he murmurs, savouring the word. So that's what was in Francis's salve. It's good to be able to put a name to it.

He realizes his attention has begun to drift and he refocuses himself on Rosco's lesson. The medic's fingers are never still, even when all he's doing is holding a bandage, and Gull smiles fondly as Rosco fidgets his way through his explanation.

At Rosco's question, he shakes his head with a slight laugh. "Not in many years," he replies. "And I was never much good at it. Always ended up mistaking the beat of my own heart in my fingertips for the pulse of whatever poor creature had the misfortune to be under my care. My friend Lavinia was forever double-checking my work and rolling her eyes." Realizing he was making himself out to be a hopeless case, Gull sat up straighter and gave Rosco an earnest smile. "But I'm eager to try again! I'm sure I'll get it with a little more instruction." Rosco reminds him a great deal of dear Lavinia, but Gull suspects he's a more patient teacher than she ever was.

[Gull]

"I remember that you could get the pulse from the neck and... somewhere else too."

[Rosco Agassi]

Rosco chuckles a bit. It seems for every conversation they have, Gull has a dozen anecdotes to add. He briefly wonders how many of them are true and how many are fable, tales as real as those about Gull being engaged to the moon.

Nonetheless, even with Gull's previous attempts at experience it's best to start from the beginning. Rosco puts down the bandage to aid in demonstration, immediately uncomfortable with the lack of movement it provided. "Your neck and your wrist. There are plenty of other places you can feel it, but those are the most accurate and easiest to access. Your carotid and..." He stops to think, poking at his wrist to gain a tactile sensation to jog his memory. "Radial. Your carotid and radial arteries, though I guess you don't really need to know that out on the field or in the woods..." He trails off, the excitment that had been building fading with his voice. There's a joy he finds in teaching medicine, prattling on about information Gull will neither need nor retain. It's difficult to reign himself in and continue on track.

"Both places you're gonna want to use two fingers." He demonstrates by holding up his right index and middle fingers. "On their wrist, the artery you want runs up here," he's pointing as he talks, using the two fingers to trace a line from wrist to base of thumb. "So if you go about...here, you should be able to feel it. Press your fingers flat and apply very slight pressure. That will help make sure it's theirs you're feeling and not your own." He pushes down slightly, feeling the steady beat of his own heart. It's faster than normal, he notes, building anxiety from trying to teach.

Once he's done, he holds out his hand for Gull to try on him, smiling encouragingly. "Here, give it a go."

[Gull]

Gull takes Rosco's hand, uncharacteristically timid. Sure, he relishes playing the fool under most circumstances, but that's a performance. Besides, Rosco's opinion actually matters to him, and Rosco's opinion of Rosco matters to him too. It's a small thing, he knows, but he wants Rosco to feel like the competent teacher he so clearly wants to be, and maybe even to be a little proud of his student.

Copying Rosco's demonstration, Gull lays two fingers in the shallow dip under the medic's thumb. He unconsciously sticks his tongue out as he concentrates, shifting position bit by bit, seeking that perfect combination of angle and location and pressure. Nothing.

"Hm." Gull furrows his brow. "I can't quite seem to - oh!" His face lights up as he suddenly feels a rabbit-quick pulse under his fingers. "There it is! That's much clearer than I expected!" He concentrates a moment and his grin grows wider. "I always thought you were supposed to hold your fingers as if you were playing a flute, but this is the hand position you use for bar chords. No wonder I could never get it to work! They're nothing alike."

He releases Rosco's hand and wiggles contentedly in his seat. "You're quite the teacher!" Gull's enthusiasm is unmistakable.

[Rosco Agassi]

He's patient as Gull searches, uncharacteristically still. Gull will have to learn on wiggling subjects, but that will come with time - and most importantly, practice.

When he finds it, Rosco seems almost as excited as him. He beams with pride as his cheeks flush, warm and pink. Praise from Gull feels authentic. Maybe it shouldn't, given all his lies, but if Rosco doesn't believe what validation he gets, what is there to believe at all?

He tries not to think too much into it.

He's not very good at that.

"See! It's pretty simple once you get the hang of it. Try your neck." He gestures for Gull to give the second spot a go, knowing the musician will find it this time with relative ease. "It's all in the position of your fingers! Comparing it to instruments is very accurate, I think."

"This is how it's supposed to feel. A little slower is okay, a little faster is common with all the adrenaline in Holdfast. If it's weak or spread out, if the beats have a different rhythm," He stops to think on how he will go about explaining such to Gull. "You want it to be steady, like the beat of a drum. There shouldn't be long pauses between beats -" he goes on to mimic the sound of a heart as best he can, "Ba-dum, Ba-dum, Ba-dum Ba-dum. Not Ba-dum, Ba-dum, Ba-dum..." There's a pause. "...Ba-dum."

He's moving about again, picking back up the bandage to continue fidgeting. "The latter can be signs someone is in distress. You should always address the bleeding once you know someone is alive, but you especially should when they feel so close to death. That's where the bandages come in."

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