Thankfully, the infirmary’s empty — no long-term inhabitants currently, not since Strange finished reviewing Loki’s exhaustion and finally signed out the patient — and so the room is empty besides the doctor himself, who’s currently sorting through some paperwork.
There’s a look of faint alarm when he looks up and fully takes in Edgard’s appearance, this walking talking adult Pig-Pen; the doctor is neurotic about his tidiness and cleanliness, and so many of the surfaces here should be kept fastidiously sanitary. But so he waves him over to the head healer’s desk, the set of chairs, a safe surface for the paper.
“Yes, of course. The mural’s going to take a while, so we do still need posters in the meantime, and I’m glad to have the assistance. Edgard, right?”
There’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it. It’s a veritable Who’s On First routine every time.”
Strange rearranges the desk, moving more things out of the way so Edgard can sit down across from him and set down the paper and charcoal. As for the poster pitches…
“I have two main ones in mind. First, something with instructions to ‘WASH YOUR HANDS’, with an illustration of some hands mid-wash, and maybe an instruction to do it for at least 20 seconds? Besides the artistic part, my handwriting isn’t tidy enough to write legibly: we want large, plain, easy-to-read script.
“Second, this might sound a little odd, but it’s a pain scale. From 0, no pain, to 10, unimaginable pain, and illustrations along the way to depict that escalating pain. So that even if they can’t read, someone in this office could point at one of the faces to say, this is how I’m feeling. Does that make sense?”
There’s an equally skeptical pause, Strange staring blankly back at him. (His gaze lingers a little on the details he’s now noticing: greasy hair, dirt under the fingernails. Maybe this is not the right target audience.)
“Because it’s… good?” Adding, concerned, “You should be washing your hands, Mr. Edgard.”
He’s lost at sea trying to figure out how to explain that hygiene isn’t a belief, but Edgard moves so smoothly on that Strange just has to roll with it, spiraling. He takes his own deep breath, making a mental note to try to circle back afterward. “Whatever can be expressed on a sliding, increasing scale. Looking vaguely uncomfortable, wincing, looking progressively more upset, crying? It can be cartoonish. I expect it to be cartoonish, frankly, as long as it gets the point across.”
Stephen Strange’s expression does something indescribable then, at witnessing something indescribable.
He finds himself involuntarily rising out of his seat and drifting closer to the sign and the canvas, staring agog as he takes in all the details, the red dripping down the drawing. Is it decapitated? Yes, the stick figure is decapitated.
“Um,” he says, then stops. His bedside manner isn’t gracious enough for this. He has not been trained for this. “You’ve got the… spirit,” he adds, before petering out again at a complete loss.
He’s still staring at it in solemn contemplative silence for a little too long, brow furrowed.
“Oh, no, it’s,” Strange hesitates, “it’s very good. I’ll probably have Ellie take her own crack at the handwashing thing, I expect she might have seen some similar signs so she’ll know what I’m after, but your scale is… it’s…”
He finally admits defeat. Hell, it’s better than what he’d be able to do, so— Now standing as close as he is, the Head Healer just picks up the stiff canvas and moves it over atop a cabinet, propping it against the wall as a preview of what it might look like mounted.
“Yes. See? Very good. Excellent job. We’ll get that mounted properly and put up for the healers’ use and reference. Thank you, Edgard.”
( It’s on the wiki now. That means it’s official™. )
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portalling) wrote2022-04-02 01:17 pm
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Action
"Still want some art? Have some time."
He straightens his very muddy self to his tallest height and rubs his hand across his face, making a smudge. He gives Strange a serious look.
"Give you a consultation."
hell yea
There’s a look of faint alarm when he looks up and fully takes in Edgard’s appearance, this walking talking adult Pig-Pen; the doctor is neurotic about his tidiness and cleanliness, and so many of the surfaces here should be kept fastidiously sanitary. But so he waves him over to the head healer’s desk, the set of chairs, a safe surface for the paper.
“Yes, of course. The mural’s going to take a while, so we do still need posters in the meantime, and I’m glad to have the assistance. Edgard, right?”
no subject
"You are Strange." He says and then immediately panics. "I mean--you--your name's. You're not. Well, don't know you might be--"
Edgard does a sweeping gesture as to erase everything that's just been said and takes a huge breath.
"We met through the crystals. Describe the posters you need."
He panics again. "Please."
no subject
Strange rearranges the desk, moving more things out of the way so Edgard can sit down across from him and set down the paper and charcoal. As for the poster pitches…
“I have two main ones in mind. First, something with instructions to ‘WASH YOUR HANDS’, with an illustration of some hands mid-wash, and maybe an instruction to do it for at least 20 seconds? Besides the artistic part, my handwriting isn’t tidy enough to write legibly: we want large, plain, easy-to-read script.
“Second, this might sound a little odd, but it’s a pain scale. From 0, no pain, to 10, unimaginable pain, and illustrations along the way to depict that escalating pain. So that even if they can’t read, someone in this office could point at one of the faces to say, this is how I’m feeling. Does that make sense?”
no subject
"Why do you need a sign that says to wash your hands?"
Edgard's tone is deeply skeptical.
no subject
“Because it’s… good?” Adding, concerned, “You should be washing your hands, Mr. Edgard.”
no subject
"'s against my beliefs. What is good for you may not be good for everyone."
He moves on.
"The second--what sort of injury do you want them to have?"
no subject
He’s lost at sea trying to figure out how to explain that hygiene isn’t a belief, but Edgard moves so smoothly on that Strange just has to roll with it, spiraling. He takes his own deep breath, making a mental note to try to circle back afterward. “Whatever can be expressed on a sliding, increasing scale. Looking vaguely uncomfortable, wincing, looking progressively more upset, crying? It can be cartoonish. I expect it to be cartoonish, frankly, as long as it gets the point across.”
1/3 stay tuned for great art
"I can get this done shortly. Stay right here."
2/3
"Wasn't going to do your first request, but don't like to say no to someone who appreciates art."
He shows him a sign he made:
"Don't say anything yet. Just...experience it. I will bring you the next one and it's...really good." He runs off to go fetch it.
3/3 CW for a picture of comedic violence??
Edgard exhales and puts a huge smile on his face. He turns to Strange, expecting only the happiest of customers.
this thread is everything
He finds himself involuntarily rising out of his seat and drifting closer to the sign and the canvas, staring agog as he takes in all the details, the red dripping down the drawing. Is it decapitated? Yes, the stick figure is decapitated.
“Um,” he says, then stops. His bedside manner isn’t gracious enough for this. He has not been trained for this. “You’ve got the… spirit,” he adds, before petering out again at a complete loss.
He’s still staring at it in solemn contemplative silence for a little too long, brow furrowed.
not a demon, just a sweet boy
There is a long pause.
"You don't like it?"
He worked very hard on it, Strange.
no subject
He finally admits defeat. Hell, it’s better than what he’d be able to do, so— Now standing as close as he is, the Head Healer just picks up the stiff canvas and moves it over atop a cabinet, propping it against the wall as a preview of what it might look like mounted.
“Yes. See? Very good. Excellent job. We’ll get that mounted properly and put up for the healers’ use and reference. Thank you, Edgard.”
( It’s on the wiki now. That means it’s official™. )