Who: Drake & Darius What: Drake was dumb. Darius is there to help. Where: Cormac's clinic When: This afternoon Rating: PG Status: Complete
Taking out his frustration on a Malboro had seemed like a good idea at the time he’d thought of it, except he had never seen one with a mustache before. So when it knocked him solidly on his butt and breathed all over him, he was still trying to figure out why it had a (perfectly, well-groomed) mustache. He hadn’t even known that malboros had hair.
And that distraction - must have been a defense mechanism or something - had been all that was needed for Drake to nearly die a la Malboro. Somehow, he’d managed to defeat the thing and crawl back to the gates, but his not without sustaining more damage than he’d had in a while. Like reinjuring his previously dislocated shoulder. Or having really ugly teeth marks all over his forearm.
The monk sighed and started the long trek to Cormac’s clinic. Cormac might charge an arm and a leg, but he didn’t lecture, unlike Darius. And he had such a good track record with Darius - he hadn’t been to see the white mage for an injury in nearly a year. (Well, no one really counted the Founder’s Day exhibitions, right?) Better to not ruin it, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford Cormac’s extortion fees, anyway.
Fortunately, when he opened the door and dragged himself in, the reception area was empty. He had a brief pang of nostalgia - Cy used to look him up and down and ask him what sort of trouble he went looking for - before he collapsed into a chair. Cormac’s new assistant wasn’t around, but the clinic was still open, so Drake decided to just wait until Cormac decided to check his waiting room. If he was still there in five minutes, he’d get up and ring the bell.
Thankfully, it had been a somewhat slow day. Cormac’s clinic - for whatever reason - always seemed so busy. Maybe it was because he charged, maybe it was because the quality of his work was good, maybe it was because… Well, Darius didn’t really even know, but it kept him busy, and so far? Pretty damn well paid too.
Regardless, the last patient had been shipped off, it had given him the chance to have a quick snack, and then head back into the pit. Which - emerging from the back - caused his forehead to crinkle as he cleared his throat.
“Long time, no see, Drake.”
Drake looked up, confused. He’d thought he’d heard… Oh no. “Darius,” the monk said, suddenly sheepish. “Funny running into you at Cormac’s clinic. Where you aren’t normally. If Cormac’s not around, I can…” Well, coming back later was probably going to be a bad idea, but hadn’t he just been thinking that he didn’t want to be lectured? “Come back later?” he finished weakly.
"I work here now." The words came out a bit flat, as Darius couldn't help a slight suspicion creep into his features. So this was where Drake had been sneaking off to when he got injured.As much as he could be annoying, Darius had to give it to him. Going to Cormac all the time was some dedication. "Got a problem you need looked at?" The flatness left some as the white mage's eyes shifted over Drake and he attempted not to frown.
Oh man. He was going to have to find a new clinic after today. “I wouldn’t call it a problem,” he tried, going for nonchalant innocence. “I mean, it’s really just a minor scrape. Maybe a dislocated shoulder. Nothing really bad.” A quick glance at Darius told him the mage wasn’t buying it. He sighed. “Okay, maybe I went and fought a malboro on my own, and maybe I only nearly got away.”
Darius did his best to hold his disbelieving looks in check, but knew full well that he failed at least half way through Drake’s garbled attempted at self justification. “Alright, so, you got fucked up fighting something is the short of it?” Really, he wasn’t in the mood to beat around the bush here. “You want me to treat you out here, or you wanna come back into the clinic room?”
“The back is fine,” Drake sighed, standing up. The last thing he needed was for someone to walk into the clinic and see him like this. Aspel’s warnings from when they’d first made council had stuck with him, and while he’d stopped stupidly running into any and every battle, it didn’t mean that he didn’t still get stupidly injured.
He followed Darius back, trying to keep from wincing with each step. “So, when did you start working here with Cormac?” And does this mean Cormac is getting rid of the extortion fee?
“A while ago.” Darius shrugged idly before shifting, and letting Drake go through the door first. “Take a seat.” He gave a nod towards the examination table and closed the door behind him before stepping over to a sink so that he could wash his hands. “Wanna tell me where really hurts so that I don’t have to prod at you until you tell me?”
“Shoulder, forearm, lower back,” Drake ticked off, moving to give Darius better access to his injuries. “There’s no need to poke and prod. I’ve been doing enough of that myself lately,” he added, grumbling. Between everything that had been happening and trying to sort out his emotional state, a few physical injuries seemed like nothing.
It was too bad that other people didn’t think so, or that he liked walking without too much of a limp.
Darius gave a nod as he shifted to pull on gloves. “Alright.” Though when he turned around he couldn’t help the crinkle of his forehead. “You know I can’t not poke around, it what you’re paying me to do.” Stepping up, he gestured for Drake to raise his arms. “Arms up in front of you, parallel with the ground and palms up. We’re gonna make sure you didn’t damage anything major first, yeah?” This examination shouldn’t take too long as Drake generally seemed to have pretty good look about not sustaining particularly major injuries, but… Well, that’s what they were here to find out.
Obedient to the end, Drake lifted his hands to let Darius poke - hopefully gently around the nice bright bruises that were starting to cover his side. He’d forgotten about those. “So, do you charge the same as Cormac?” he asked conversationally, wincing as his shoulder twinged. “And how’re you liking actually getting paid?”
“I do.” Came the simple answer to the first question, and holy shit was it a lot more money than he’d ever made working anywhere else. Cormac had set all the prices, and Darius had decided to keep them. Cormac might have had a much more lavish lifestyle than he did but… Well, money for a rainy day never hurt. “It’s different.” Darius gave a passive shrug as he carefully continued on the examination process. He felt like he had a pretty good idea at this point, but just a few more tests would confirm it. Stepping back, Darius held his arms up.
“Alright, follow my lead on how to move your arms, alright?”
Drake nodded, but the first time Darius moved to his left, the monk cried out in pain. He hadn’t expected that - he hadn’t expected anything to be wrong outside of needing some potions and an esuna, but apparently he’d underestimated.
This is what you get, mortal.
Shut up, Pokey.
Darius couldn’t help but frown at the outcry of pain. “Alright.” He paused, eying the shoulder. “Think you might have separated that.” There was a slight frown as he considered how to handle the situation. “I can magick it, but you may have some lingering weakness for a while, it’s not something that has a really complete and easy fix.” Though… “Or I can drop a really high level spell on it, but that’ll cost ya.”
The wince was purely conditioned - whenever he heard the word cost in a clinic, it usually meant he was going to part with a large chunk of gil. But in this case, it would be worth it. “Fine,” Drake sighed. “It’s not like I don’t have the gil to spare.” He’d gotten even more spendthrift lately, preferring to save in case of an emergency.
And with his luck, he’d pass on the spell and have something huge attack, and then he’d be useless.
“Alright, you can stop following my motions now.” Darius shifted, rolling his shoulders and beginning to stretch out his arms some. “Go ahead and lay back on the bed there.” A nod was given towards the cot in the room as Darius went over what he’d need, what spell would be best, and what the cost of this sort of service was going to end up being. An examination, and a Curaja? Yeah, this was gonna cost a lot.
Waiting for Drake to comply, Darius then moved over next to the man. “I gotta shift your arm to assure the best healing angle, this might hurt a bit, alright?”
He nodded, trying to find a way to lay back without being in complete agony. If Darius was warning him about pain now, Drake was going to find the best way to minimize the extra aches. One of these days, he was going to just do what his step-father had told him: Have problems? Go out and meditate. Clearly hunting malboros wasn’t doing him any good.
You could have called me forth.
Not in your life.
Moving forward, Darius adjusted Drake’s arm to the best position possible before stepping back. Taking in a deep breath, he then called forth and cast Curaja on the injured fighter before him. Taking in another deep breath, his eyes narrowed, studying the shoulder and arm to try to see what difference there was if any.
“How’s that feel?”
He shrugged it and lifted it, moving it around. No pain or anything - not even stiffness. Drake grinned. “Feels like new,” he said. “Thanks.”
Darius simply gave a nod before turning, and jotting down some notes on a piece of paper before tearing it out of the notepad and handing it over to Drake. “Sure, make sure to pay your bill on the way out.”
Drake stood up and took the paper. A glance at it and he was wincing again. “Oh man. I think I liked it better when you worked for free,” he said, mostly joking. “One of these days, we should get drinks or something. I only ever see you when I’m injured.” The fact that Drake didn’t drink was omitted - Darius liked to lecture him, and if Darius drank, then Drake would at least get some entertainment out of it to remember the next time he inevitably ended up here.
“Well, things change, man.” Darius gave a shrug of his shoulders accompanied by a slight cant of his head. Though, Drake’s offer wasn’t exactly something Darius was particularly fond of the idea of, it also didn’t seem as utterly horrible as it used to at the same time. Maybe that was him not giving a fuck about much anymore, or maybe… “Maybe.” A beat. “As long as you’re paying.” And he couldn’t help the mild amusement that lingered on his face. Especially, with the bill that Drake currently held in his hand.
“And here I was thinking you’d buy,” Drake joked before shaking his head. “Nah, it would be my treat. Let me know whenever you’re up for it.” Faram knew that he needed a distraction, and he really hadn’t been doing much outside of working. Merri was busy, Aspel was still mad at him (he really needed to find a time to sit down and explain things to her), and Ari was in rehearsals.
When had his life become this boring?
“I’ll get out of your hair,” he continued. “Need to finish up some work, anyway. I’ll see you around, Darius.”
“Later.” Was all that Darius would give as a response with a brief wave of his hand as Drake exited, and he set up for the next incoming client for the day.