(open) I said "doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take?" I said "doctor, to relieve this belly ache"

[sangsues]

WHO: Étienne Guerinet Beaumanoir & the blessed souls who speak with him.
WHAT: an open post & introduction for Dr. Beaumanoir
WHEN: through April
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: some gentle nsfw, also he is generally low-key terrible in generic Thedas ways (esp re: elves and mages) and is a tool for playing out hideous historical medicine.

OPEN PROMPTS.

1.

"Behold!" He takes a step back from a man whose cheeks look a little puffy, and whose eyes could be considered a little glazed over. "He may yet be reeling from his treatment, but before you stands a man cured of the worms that invested his jaw! He has been gifted with the virility of the templars, the soldiers who give up their lives to protect our lands from powers that would overwhelm so many of us. He stands before you yet a man, but tomorrow, and in the days that follow, he will be a hero!"

He grabs the man's hand, and holds his hand over his head, in a show of victory. The crowd cheers—

Doctor Beaumanoir's Dashing Dentures is written on a nearby poster.


2.
Healing wonders! Potions galore!
DR. BEAUMANOIR'S MEDICINAL ALMANAC.
HELP HIM HEAL YOU! Inquire within.

A handsome man stands; a doctor, a hero - and so much more.

"Can I help you?"

He smiles. It's extremely Dashing™.

Comments

[sangsues]

"Well," he starts, leaning against the wall in a very charming and beautiful way, because that is how he does everything, "you've access to rifters and potentially access to items from rifts. I would like to be able to acquire such materials to experiment with their medicinal merits."

There is a pause, not to allow her to digest this request, so much as for her to appreciate the gravity of it.

"I would, of course, expect to be the only person that you supply with such goods. Locks of hair, for example, but for certain things I would pay a premium. Blood, for example." Or organs, should the unthinkable happen, but he'll build up to that one.

[coppelganger]

For several moments, Sarah just looks at him, open-mouthed.

"You want locks of my hair?" When he'd said "items from rifts," she'd been thinking of... Cheetos. Teapots. Other weird shit. Hadn't Helena found an entire crate of peanut butter? Anyway, things like that. Not her hair and blood.

[sangsues]

"Not much," he says, imagining himself to be very reassuring, when in reality he is just leaning nakedly against a wall. "I would not wish to see beauty sabotaged, even for science. No, just a little, for experiments. If you were able to get hair or anything from other rifters, I wouldn't say no."

[coppelganger]

"Uh... yeah..." Before she found out she was a clone, an experiment, Sarah probably wouldn't have had qualms with handing over a few pieces of her hair to some guy for his "experiments," if it meant she would get some cash in return. What could it hurt, as long as the hair wasn't going to show up at an active crime scene? But now her mind goes to all the unethical shit this guy could end up doing with her hair. A piece of her. Dyad doesn't exist in this universe, but Cosima'd mentioned other groups, religious cults. And even if it weren't her hair or blood, it would be someone else's.

"Let me think about it," she says finally. "I'll get back to you."

[sangsues]

A sigh. Alas, she was not immediately convinced - but there would still be time. With a smile, he steps forward and catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"As you wish, Sarah." He holds her hand a moment longer, insistent. "Get back to me as soon as you can. My future lies in your hands."