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As he walked the winding road that followed the Symarron river, Silas couldn't help but be awed by the natural beauty of the island of Corinth. Two days ago he had landed in Gold Harbor, and had traveled mostly on foot on his way to the Hildebrand estate, occasionally accepting the offer of a ride from a passing carriage. While he could have arranged transport with either his Senarian benefactors or his new friends in Hildebrand, he shied away from such things. He tended to avoid airships and boats as much as possible since the day he had been shot down over the Beast King Raz Nogore's territory. Even now the memories of what he had suffered after the crash made him ill when he thought about boarding such transport. As a result, he tended to resort to such means of transport only when necessary.

Not that his own personal preference for traveling solo would keep him from arriving when he had promised. When he had given his estimate for the completion of the prosthetic that he now carried in a case with him, he had included travel time. Now as the immense black spire of Ravenel Manor, his thoughts turned to his business there; or more accurately, one piece of business more than the other. Since the day he had first made her acquaintance he had often found his thoughts dwelling on Lady Varda. Feelings that he thought had been scorched away in the fires of the Beast Kings dungeons had begun to stir, but he wasn't sure what to make of them.

As he approached the gates, he tried to maintain the clinical detachment required of a physician.

@vielle

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The Doctor is greeted by a small company of knights, armor gleaming silver in the sun as they march up the small hill to the stone steps of the manor spiralling high into Corinth’s bright blue skies.

Varda stands tall at the top of the stairs, flanked by her sister Aspen, and they watch as unmoving statues gazing over the landscape and the group slowly approaching them from the gates of the estate. As the Doctor is deposited at the foot of the manor, the Lady Hildebrand beckons him forward with an outstretched hand and a gentle smile.

“Welcome to Hildebrand Estate, Doctor Harriden. Your journey has been smooth sailing, I hope?”

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Lady Varda was beautiful as always; and accompanied by a woman Silas did not know; but given the similarities between the two he guessed she was a sister or cousin. The noble seemed to be doing better; her color improved, and she was standing without the aid of anyone else. If she hadn't cured the poison yet, then at the very least his suppressant was still working. Of course, visual inspection was only a start. He would have to examine the wound thoroughly to be sure that it was healing properly. 

Silas smiled, and took the offered hand to place a kiss upon it, "Indeed milady, your home island is quite lovely. You honor me by welcoming me into your home."

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Varda pointedly does not blush when the man greets her with a kiss on her hand, but her eyelashes flutter up a storm under the weight of her sister’s curious gaze, Aspen’s mouth curving in amusement.

Yes, truly, she is the epitome of modesty amongst the Hildebrand children; she knows this quite well. This does not mean she can always handle her siblings’ quiet teasing.

Clearing her throat, Varda quietly withdraws her hand once the Doctor has released it and gives him a bow in turn. “It is our pleasure to host one in such high esteem as yourself, Doctor. Do not forget,” she grins widely, “that it is due to your ministrations that my brother and myself are altogether healthier these days. On that note, Jasper is looking forward to seeing his new prosthetic.”

Aspen laughs and interjects with a wry glance at her older sister. “He has been rather impatient for it as of late.” She turns her gaze to the man and inclines her head. “Hail, Doctor Harriden; I am Aspen Hildebrand. Our brother Nairne is the Lord Herbalist of the family, but he is rather indisposed as of the moment, so I am here to observe and perhaps learn from you in his stead.”

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Varda's smile caused something to stir within Silas; a long forgotten but still familiar feeling that he isn't sure what to do with. A response dies on his tongue, and he's glad when Aspyn interjects with news about Jasper, and her desire to learn from him. He had taught medicine to others in a classroom setting, but had never taught one on one. Still, it was flattering, and he wasn't about to say no to a fellow healer. 

Silas smiles politely and nods, "Of course. Feel free to ask any questions that come to mind."

He turned his attention back to Varda, "Since he's so eager, perhaps I should give your brother his prosthetic before I inspect your wound?"

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Aspen brightens at the man’s words, and for that, Varda is very much grateful; seeing even the faintest sliver of joy spark in her sister’s gaze is altogether an uplifting vision.

"Since he's so eager, perhaps I should give your brother his prosthetic before I inspect your wound?"

“That is an excellent idea, Doctor. Shall we,” she nods, turning towards the doors to the manor with a hand outstretched to guide the man in following her footfalls. Together, the three make their way onwards, further into the Hildebrand’s ancestral home.

A few twists and turns through the halls of Ravenel, and Varda finally pushes through the door to Jasper’s study. Sun-dappled light filters through the high arched windows, flooding the homely room with warmth and the atmosphere of cheer. Her brother is perched against the wooden desk, quietly perusing his bookshelf when he looks up at the group’s approach.

“Sisters and—ah, Doctor, welcome; a pleasure to meet you once more,” he drawls, his right hand extending to shake Silas’ hand. “Have you my new hand? This old one has been boring me.” Aspen chortles, Jasper smirks, and Varda is beaming brightly enough to rival the sun.

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Robotic hand design, hand prosthetic, bionic hand design, mech hand, exoskeleton, mechanical hand design, cyborg hand design, robotic arm, robotic limb, human robot, futuristic cyberpunk body modification, body augmentation, concept art hand design 3d digital artwork, render, biomimetic hand Фотография

 

The ancestral home of the Hildebrands was as magnificent inside as it was outside. Silas made a point to silently map out every twist and turn leading to Jasper's office; just in case he needed to make a quick exit. Prior to his metaphorical death and rebirth in Alethea, he had never done such a thing; but now it was an everyday occurrence. Intellectually he knew that he was as safe as anywhere else in the manor, if not safer. But trauma changes people, and this was just part of who he was now. By the time they had arrived at the office, he had already mapped out several possible escape routes. 

On 4/2/2019 at 2:36 AM, vielle said:

“Sisters and—ah, Doctor, welcome; a pleasure to meet you once more,” he drawls, his right hand extending to shake Silas’ hand. “Have you my new hand? This old one has been boring me.” Aspen chortles, Jasper smirks, and Varda is beaming brightly enough to rival the sun.

Silas smiled back, and unslung the pack he carried from his shoulder, "I should be able to fix that for you presently."

From his pack, he retrieved a polished hardwood box, which when opened revealed a sleek black hand. With Jasper's permission, he removed the crude replacement hand, and fitted his prosthetic to the Lords arm. 

"I'm going to connect the nerves now. You'll feel a sharp jolt of pain, but it should be brief. Ready?"

The doctor didn't wait for the other man to respond before he pressed a button and sharp metal bit into the flesh of Jasper's stump. While the pain would be akin to a sudden electrical shock, it would fade quickly. Once it was done, Silas regarded his patient.

"You should be able to move it as naturally as your own hand. If you require any adjustments, feel free to let me know."

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Despite her rather mild aversion to anything concerning bodily injuries and the entire concept of pain, Varda can’t help her curiosity over the proceedings, flitting forward to hover behind Jasper’s shoulder to peer down as the Doctor reveals the box and the contents veiled within. Aspen oohs and aahs at the sight of that metallic prosthetic, very obviously aglow with anticipation.

"I'm going to connect the nerves now. You'll feel a sharp jolt of pain, but it should be brief. Ready?"

“I must say, Doctor,” Jasper pauses, wincing as the new hand connects itself to his flesh, “I do appreciate your choice in aesthetics. This would go well with my wardrobe, don’t you think so, sisters?”

Twin grins alight on the women’s lips, and Aspen nudges the man with an airy chuckle. “Try it out, brother.”

Jasper acquiesces, and the way the mechanical limb moves is almost flawless, almost as if he had never lost a hand at all, albeit with shiny new fingers instead of flesh. Varda finds she can overlook the faintly unsettling sight of cold metal on her brother’s body when Jasper’s smile is bright and uncommonly warm, gazing upon his new useable prosthetic.

“Thank you, kind Doctor,” Jasper breathes, inclines his head in gratitude before straightening up, familiar smirk already affixed on his mouth. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to show my wife your most wondrous work.” With a nod to each of his siblings present, the Hildebrand son disappears into the hallway, leaving his sisters behind with the Senarian doctor.

“If—if you’ll allow a question, Doctor Harriden,” Aspen ventures after a moment of silence, “how do you create a prosthetic that, um, moves the way the owner wills it to?”

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5 hours ago, vielle said:

“Thank you, kind Doctor,” Jasper breathes, inclines his head in gratitude before straightening up, familiar smirk already affixed on his mouth. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to show my wife your most wondrous work.” With a nod to each of his siblings present, the Hildebrand son disappears into the hallway, leaving his sisters behind with the Senarian doctor.

Silas nodded, "Of course my lord. 

It was always gratifying to see a patient regain function that they had thought would be lost forever. Saving, reclaiming peoples lives was the reason that he had decided to pursue a career in medicine in the first place. It was why he had decided to go to Alethea, a place that was in dire need of doctors at the time. He had never been able to watch a person suffer before his time in the dungeons. Afterwards... well. A person can get used to anything when they have no choice.

5 hours ago, vielle said:

“If—if you’ll allow a question, Doctor Harriden,” Aspen ventures after a moment of silence, “how do you create a prosthetic that, um, moves the way the owner wills it to?”

"The nerves that remain in the damaged area are the key. We move our bodies through electrical signals dispatched from the brain to the appropriate nerves in the section of the body we wish to use. My prosthetic's receive and react to those signals just like the genuine article."

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Truth be told, Varda can barely keep up with the medical jargon spouting out from the Doctor’s mouth, but the twinkle in her sister’s eyes more than makes up for the haze of confusion that briefly descends.

"The nerves that remain in the damaged area are the key. We move our bodies through electrical signals dispatched from the brain to the appropriate nerves in the section of the body we wish to use. My prosthetic's receive and react to those signals just like the genuine article."

Aspen hums thoughtfully, and Varda can see the focus in those irises turn inward to reflect upon the knowledge she has been given. “I see. I have a great deal to learn about this, and my brother and I would love to call upon your expertise in this matter, um, soon enough,” she murmurs, a rosy hue rising in her cheeks as her gaze turns to her elder sister. “I’ve spoken my case, Varda.”

“And so you have,” the Lady Hildebrand chuckles, fondness ringing forth. “Do not worry, sister, I shall have the good Doctor take a look at my injury for a brief moment, and then you may hustle him away to talk shop.” Varda sends a grin in Silas’ direction, tilts her head as she thinks on the matter for a moment. “Would you prefer we conduct this examination here,” she gestures towards the chaise lounge in the corner, “or in the infirmary?”

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Aspen seemed like a diligent, eager student that any teacher would love to have under their tutelage; and he looked forward to helping her realize her obvious potential. But now it was time to get to the part of this visit that he had been dreading, and looking forward to in equal measure. The prospect of being close to the Lady Hildebrand was a notion that enchanted and terrified him. Would he maintain his professionalism? Or would me make an utter fool of himself in front of someone he... what? What was it that he felt toward her? 

Figure it out later. You have a job to do.

Silas gestured toward lounge and smiled, "This should do nicely. Please prepare yourself as I ready my supplies."

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"This should do nicely. Please prepare yourself as I ready my supplies."

The sisters exchange a wordless glance before Aspen vacates herself from Varda’s path, allowing her sister the leeway to move towards the chaise lounge and lean against the cushions. The younger then shifts to block the Doctor’s view of the Lady Hildebrand for a brief moment, smiling beatifically as Varda wrestles with the fabric of her skirts, her corset, baring the healing evidence of her injury to the open air, the wound that is slowly disappearing from the expanse of her pale skin.

Once Silas has secured whatever equipment he needs, Aspen then shifts to perch against the table, watching with seemingly curious eyes, but Varda can see the unease in those eyes, the worry; icy fingers of terror in memory of the attempt on their lives still haunt them even now, in the most inopportune of moments.

“I am ready, Doctor,” she nods to the man, then extends a hand in her sister’s direction to offer an anchor to steady restless seas. Aspen breathes in deep, then steps forward to entwine their fingers together.

If Varda also takes this opportunity to distract herself from the heated pulse of nervousness curling in her gut, well, who is there to know?

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The doctor kept his eyes on the contents of his bag for as long as he could without causing the two sisters undue worry. All he really needed was his penlight and some disinfectant, but he took his time locating it. Just looking at Varda made him struggle to contain his feelings. He had no idea how he was going to get through touching her. No. He would do this, bid the Hildebrands farewell for the time being, and then sort out his personal feelings later. Perhaps with the aid of alcohol. 

Silas moved to stand before the Lady Hildebrand, and knelt down so that he could have a better view of the wound. First was the visual inspection; and he liked what he was seeing. The wound no longer looked as angry and corrupted as it had when he had treated her the first time. Now came the hard part...

"It looks like its healing well."

Not waiting to her her response, fearful it would stop him in his tracks, he lightly ran his fingers over the wound.

"Does that hurt?"

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She shall never be comfortable baring her skin in public, not really, but needs must, and the Doctor is already moving to kneel down by the side of the chaise lounge, Aspen a distant and protective observer hovering by the peripheries of her consciousness.

"It looks like its healing well."

Varda’s mouth falls open, a reply about to take flight from her lips when she feels it: the slightest touch of fingers on her wound, feather-light and silk, and it’s all she can do to hold in her startled gasp. She is unable to stop her gaze widening, however, as she looks down at the man studying her wound.

"Does that hurt?"

A dozen possible replies sprout into existence in her head, but Varda allows only one to leave the iron-bar gate of her teeth. “N-no, it does not,” she says, cheeks darkening at the slight stutter in her words before she clears her throat, the curve of her mouth pulled resolutely polite. Without the ache of her injury to distract her from the proceedings, the embarrassment that has yet to arise in her chest has finally made its appearance in the light of the situation now. “Is—is there anything out of the ordinary, Doctor? The blackened scabs have lessened and continue to flake and fall apart by each passing day,” she babbles, her mouth running off in a desperate attempt to ward off her awkwardness.

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"Hmmm... no, nothing out of the ordinary. The flaking is quite normal. Healing should be complete within another week or two. If not, you can, of course call for me."

This was the part of the job that he did best; calmly analyzing the problem, and finding solutions to it. All that he had to do was listen to the patient, look at the physical signs, and decide a course of action accordingly. Now the job was done, he stood up, only to be surprised. Varda seemed to be in some kind of distress; her face flushed, and her facial expression concerned. Without thinking, he put a hand to her forehead, feeling for a temperature.

"Are you alright milady? You seem a bit feverish."

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