Open Madness Or Brilliance

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

All his years as a pirate, and later a smuggler living among lemurs, allowed Jeshal a particular understanding of equality, or some sort of equity, among beasts. That said, it was still a novelty to his brain that the Imperium accepted woodlanders, and that he, too, now needed to marry those concepts. Friedrich was more easily united with vermin, considering how fearsome and forthright he was. How often had anyone seen a rabbit with sharp teeth? Ms Mosswhisker, however, spiny though she was, looked to be a prime example of the Harbour's progression.

"Preventive care, ye say? Unless it be your intent to shove beasts out o' the line of cannonballs, I may presume ye be telling beasts their bedtimes and when ter brush their teeth?"

His tone was playful.

"Japes aside, Nurse, firstly feel free to educate me and if ye have any documentation concerning your practices, references an' the like, I'll be having them."

@LightSeeker ​

 

[Griblo Jankweed]

Griblo beamed, chest puffing at the captain’s words.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n! Ye won’t regret it, sir! Assistant Purser Jankweed, reportin’ fer duty!”

He gave a sharp nod, just about managing to look dignified.

Then Friedrich’s paw clamped down again. The ferret squealed, feet skittering uselessly against the deck.

“Oi! Oi! I said don’t touch me! Hells’ teeth! What d’ye mean examina...? I...I’m healthy, I swear it!”

The ferret twisted, trying to wrench himself free, voice breaking into a panicked yelp.

“Yeowch! ’Elp, mates! ’Elp!!!”

His protests echoed down the passage as he was hauled bodily toward the infirmary, claws scrabbling, tail thrashing, the new “Assistant Purser” looking more like contraband seized by customs than a proud new crew member.

 

[LightSeeker]

All his years as a pirate, and later a smuggler living among lemurs, allowed Jeshal a particular understanding of equality, or some sort of equity, among beasts. That said, it was still a novelty to his brain that the Imperium accepted woodlanders, and that he, too, now needed to marry those concepts. Friedrich was more easily united with vermin, considering how fearsome and forthright he was. How often had anyone seen a rabbit with sharp teeth? Ms Mosswhisker, however, spiny though she was, looked to be a prime example of the Harbour's progression.

"Preventive care, ye say? Unless it be your intent to shove beasts out o' the line of cannonballs, I may presume ye be telling beasts their bedtimes and when ter brush their teeth?"

His tone was playful.

"Japes aside, Nurse, firstly feel free to educate me and if ye have any documentation concerning your practices, references an' the like, I'll be having them."

@LightSeeker ​

For the first time, Elara gave the Captain a smile. A small one that crinkled the edges of the hedgehog's eyes. "And I assume 'Captain' means you'll stand at the helm, bark orders, and drink all of the grog?" She replied, her tone equally witty and dry. “Preventive care begins with hygiene,” she said, voice steady, neither defensive nor detached. “A ship like this lives or dies by how well it manages illness before it spreads. A single case of fevered lung-rot, dysentery from contaminated water, or sepsis from an untreated wound can disable more crew than cannon fire.” From within the same satchel, she produced a second document: a folded parchment sealed with university wax. "My certification as an Apprentice Nurse was issued upon successful completion of the five-year clinical program at the University of Length Hospital. Includes training in trauma stabilization, infection control, field surgery support, and public health protocols. If you require further documentation,” she continued, “I can request supplemental records from Length’s administrative office. However, I have brought all personal credentials and am prepared to begin duties immediately—whether that means inspecting berths, organizing the infirmary, or conducting intake assessments.”

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

It would be a lie to say that Jeshal wasn’t a little bit dazzled by Elara’s resume along with her wit. Naturally, experience and skill would have a lot to say for itself, Gates knows he wasn’t about to dismiss his previous two surgical candidates (a day for healing it seemed – hopefully this was a good omen rather than an ill one for upcoming battles) only on a matter of paperwork. Still, this was a glowing report so far.

Finding his smile genuine, he took the offered documents.

“That be plenty for the time being. Dr Kiptooth — or Mr, depending on which be what he perceives the highest title for ‘imself — will see to coordinating all physician personnel aboard. If ye’d sign your name on the roster, we’ll set ye up as a surgeon's mate. ‘Tis somewhat of a catch-all title. Ye may be called Nurse, Miss, or Ms, as befits your preference and qualifications.”

@LightSeeker ​

 

[LightSeeker]

It would be a lie to say that Jeshal wasn’t a little bit dazzled by Elara’s resume along with her wit. Naturally, experience and skill would have a lot to say for itself, Gates knows he wasn’t about to dismiss his previous two surgical candidates (a day for healing it seemed – hopefully this was a good omen rather than an ill one for upcoming battles) only on a matter of paperwork. Still, this was a glowing report so far.

Finding his smile genuine, he took the offered documents.

“That be plenty for the time being. Dr Kiptooth — or Mr, depending on which be what he perceives the highest title for ‘imself — will see to coordinating all physician personnel aboard. If ye’d sign your name on the roster, we’ll set ye up as a surgeon's mate. ‘Tis somewhat of a catch-all title. Ye may be called Nurse, Miss, or Ms, as befits your preference and qualifications.”

@LightSeeker ​

Elara would have found deep irony in the fact that the Captain had offered her, a Nurse, the position of assistant suregon before Fredrick. Though she wasn't privy to that conversation, there was a sort of meta-irony to the fact that a less experienced woodlander was offered the spot.
Elara gave a small, measured nod as the captain accepted her documents. She didn’t watch him read them. That would have been pressure. Instead, she kept her posture relaxed but attentive, her paws at her sides, one still resting lightly on the strap of her satchel. When he returned the papers and offered the position—surgeon’s mate—she acknowledged it with quiet professionalism. “Surgeon’s Mate is acceptable,” she said. “I’ll sign the roster.” She reached into her satchel for her pen and ink vial, then stepped forward to the desk only when he indicated the document. With clean, legible script, she wrote her name on the dotted line. “Thank you, Captain,” she said. “I’ll begin by assessing the infirmary and storage conditions. If Dr. Kiptooth has established protocols, I’ll review them before initiating any intake evaluations. Otherwise, I’ll draft preliminary hygiene and triage guidelines for your approval.”

 

[Corda LaConte / Cordan LeConte]

Many a season had passed beneath the keel since Kiptooth had last set up aboard a ship proper. The Hide had been his home for long enough that the space was all but customised to his needs back then, everything in its place and within easy reach of his paws; the BlackShip, being a much larger affair with a crew to match, had maximised its space and would take some getting used to. There were more cupboards and shelves than even his own extensive collections could ever hope to fill, plenty of space in private quarters for his books, and the pervading scent of verbena which had been introduced that morning (Kiptooth knowing full well that once they were underway this place would never smell pleasant again). He’d have to get a carpenter down here eventually to move some shelves lower to match his restricted reach, but aside from that this was as perfect a workplace as one could hope to have at sea.

Stacking another row of bottles neatly inside one of the medicine lockers, enjoying the pleasant clink of glass in doing so, he had fallen into a meditative rhythm with unpacking - so much so, in fact, that he almost startled at the rap of paw on wood. It took a moment to bring the stranger into focus as he strode closer, noting them to be a young vixen to whom he extended a silvery paw and smile.

“That would be me, miss,” the old marten replied, “Kiptooth, at your service. How may I be of assistance? There’s not much of interest down here for a newcomer – that is, unless you’re here for a medical post?”

Corda started at the elderly marten's voice, but relaxed at its kindliness. Compared to the hare on the deck above, he seemed far safer to the skittish vixen. "Apologies, Doctor," she addressed the surgeon, stepping into his domain and clasping her paws before her. "My name is Corda LaConte. My brother and I are newly of the crew. I am hardly a medical professional compared to many on the ship," she admitted, "but I have some practice born of necessity, and, if you will grant your patience with me, I would gladly learn from your teaching and example, and lend my paw wherever needed."