Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Resisting treatment
Logan tries to pursuade the sea monster to submit to a blood test. He is not keen on the idea.
@medwhumpmay
Tw Panic attack, needles, non-con medical procedure, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, religious whumpee, coercion
This is set fairly near the begining, when Nathaniel's behaviour has been getting more erratic, swinging between compliance and resistance
masterlist
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“Fogal, we have a medical task to introduce you to.” Logan spoke evenly, allowing no cause for panic, “We want to take some blood for a blood test. It will only be a very small amount, a syringe full.”
“A test?” Fogal enquired softly, “But I thought you were… experimenting… last time you gave me blood?”
“We aren't giving you blood this time.” Logan corrected, “We are taking a very small amount of blood from your arm, and then Dr Orange can do some tests on it to make sure that your blood is healthy.”
The merman paled.
“You want to take my blood?”
“A very small amount. You won’t even notice. I promise we will be careful. It's ok,” Logan soothed. The merman was far more anxious than Logan had been expecting - he was usually very good with needles, associating them with heroin and a release from pain.
“No, I, I, what do you need it for?”
“To make sure you are healthy. I promise this is a very common test…”
“That’s… I don't understand.” Fogal was trying to keep the panic from his voice, “You can't tell if people are healthy from blood. I know because all human blood tastes the same. Except if they have been drinking or on coke. And I promise I have only taken the drugs you have given me.” The merman was begging, “I can't move off this bed, I promise Logan. You don't need my blood, you know everything I promise.”
“Hey, hey, calm down Fogal.” Logan let his surprise leak into his voice, “This doesn't have to be frightening, it's very simple, it is just a small needle, it won't hurt much.”
“Ok. Ok ok ok ok ok.” Fogal started tapping out a breathing pattern into his tail. Logan let him calm himself, -Pause. Calm. Please. Pause.- he asked.
“I can pause for a moment to let you calm yourself.” Logan allowed. The merman struggled through his breathing exercise, twitching occasionally against his restraints.
“Why?” Fogal finally gritted out.
“Blood contains many chemicals that can tell us about health. We give you opiates frequently, and so we are worried about giving you too much medication that will damage your liver and make you ill. We want you to stay healthy, so we want to check it.” Logan watched the words sink in. The merman continued to writhe in discomfort at the concept.
“I don’t understand why this one is so frightening to you,” Logan socially pressured, “you are usually so good with needles…”
“You want to take my BLOOD,” Fogal ratchetted right back up to borderline hysterical.
“It is a medical test. I myself undergo regular blood tests. It does no harm.”
“You let them take your blood. You.” Fogal whispered, still terrified.
“Yes. There is no reason not to. It is for my health.”
Fogal shook his head, disbelieving.
“Blood is the soul, the lifeforce of the body. My cursed vampiric diet is proof of that.”
Ah that makes sense.
“I see why you came to that conclusion,” Logan conceded, “And why, because of that belief, you are more worried about this test.” He validated the feelings, “But if, as you say, blood has no use other than to nourish you, surely there is nothing nefarious we can do with your blood, other than the aforementioned medical reasons?”
“I can’t do magic with the blood…” and yet the merman was still near wordless with terror.
“And neither can we.” Logan tried to shut the conversation down, try to bulldoze on to the procedure so the sea monster could see a blood test was genuinely not frightening “Let us show you. Nurse Brunel is just going to put this piece of rubber tightly around your arm…”
The merman burbled with fear as the nurse secured a tourniquet around his upper arm.
“No, no Logan please, don't do this, Logan...” He started to writhe, viciously fighting his bonds, leather creaking.
“This is getting dangerous Logan,” Elias warned over the comms, “I don’t think he is ready…”
Logan acknowledged his co-anthropologist’s input, and dismissed it. If they gave up now, the sea monster would never allow the simple and essential procedure. And if he did try to fight, this would be a learning opportunity as to why resisting his captor’s wishes would always be fruitless.
“It will only hurt a tiny tiny bit, a little needle, then it's fine.”
Nurse Brunel took up the needle.
“NO!” Fogal gasped. He looked Logan straight in the eye, and started to chant.
“Khri khmimi bdikula bziia”
“I don't know what he is saying.”
“…aibdur tbluniikhi, prkha zika lmurika khdta…”
“Fogal, stop speaking, stop speaking and calm yourself.” Logan commanded, tone steady, before lowering his voice to speak into the microphone. “Is it a prayer?”
“Not one I recognise.” There was fear in Elias’ voice, “Logan, we should stop him. The merpeople’s magic is song based, and we don't know what he is saying.”
The fear in the room was palpable.
“Gag him,” the military coordinator intervened. Immediately, the merman was restrained from all angles, a rubber strap forced between his teeth as he screamed. “But complete the blood test anyway. We can’t keep letting him get away with bad behaviour.”
The sea monster writhed, and writhed and screamed and writhed. Nurse Brunel’s body language was showing his reluctance and pity, but still he forced the butterfly needle into the writhing merman’s arm.
a/n Nathaniel believes in witchcraft. It is very rare for Jewish people to believe in evil witchcraft nowadays, but Nathaniel is a couple of centuries old and from a time where a belief in witches was more common place, and from a place/time where witchcraft was viewed negatively (many times in history Jews were much more tolerant than Christians of witchcraft when being used for good, and most women kind of dabble in witchcraft cos thats what women do).
And, he reasons, humans didn’t believe in merpeople till recently, so why couldn’t witches exist? (Witches are the same in the wine dark sea universe as they are in real life, but he is still afraid).
I found this curse against witchcraft on My Jewish Learning, then anglicised it using google translate, making it equal opportunities indecipherable to anyone, whether you can read Hebrew or not.
But it is an awesome (but graphic):
Hot feces in torn date baskets in your mouth, witches; may your hairs fall out because you use them for witchcraft; your crumbs, which you use for witchcraft, should scatter in the wind;
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there's a video on instagram of a man kicking his partner's door in. the top comment is (with over 4 thousand likes): "how about you tell us what you did to make him that angry?"
barring emergency, nobody should be kicking anybody's door in. many of us lived in houses where it was always, somehow, an emergency. there is a strange, almost hysterical calm that comes over you in that moment - everything feels muted, and you almost feel, however incongruently, like you should be laughing. you are living inside of "the emergency." oh my god, you think. i am now a fucking statistic.
there is another comment with 2.8 thousand likes: "if this was a woman doing it to a man, nobody would give a shit."
do people give a shit now, though?
barring emergency, the door should remain standing. the emergency should be panicked, desperate - "i'm coming in there to protect you." many of us know what it feels like when the emergency is instead "i'm coming in there to get you."
1.5k likes: "and yet you post this for notes. glad to see being the victim has become your whole personality."
hysteria is a word connected to womb, from greek. what you're experiencing is so senseless and inhumane that you (a rational creature) try to find any ground within what is irrational and cannot be explained. one of the most frustrating things about staying in bad situations is that we also lie to ourselves. we also ask ourselves - wow. what did i do?
women can be, and often are, also abusers. abuse is not gendered. abuse is not just a "straight person" problem. abuse does not have a face or figure or sexuality. you cannot pick an abuser out of a crowd. an abuser could be actually anybody.
and then so many people rally behind the man kicking the door in. here is something nobody should be doing, right? you want to ask every person that liked that first comment: do you ask this because you side with him? do you ask this because it helps you feel safe from this ever happening?
in some ways, you're weirdly sympathetic to the top comment, because it is the same logic you see frequently. the idea is that the average, normal, sane person doesn't just break down a door. doesn't just shoot up a school. doesn't stalk and kill women. doesn't threaten sexual assault. doesn't run over protesters. doesn't shoot an unarmed black person. doesn't scream at underpaid walmart employees. doesn't just "lose it". something had to have happened, right? because the default (white. straight. cis.) - that is someone who is always, you know. "sane."
(right?)
on a podcast, you hear a sane, normal, rational person. "if you piss me off, i'm going to need to hit something. sorry but i'm not apologizing. that's just who i am that's how it is." his voice almost sounds like he's laughing.
you think of the door, and how you were almost laughing behind it, too. ironically, every real emergency in your life has almost felt peaceful in comparison. fire, car accident, flash flooding - these felt quiet, covenant to you. you'd stood in all of them, feeling them pass over and up to your chin, never actually overwhelming.
but when the door was coming down, you had felt - is there a word for that? there has to be, a word, right.
surely one of us has figured out the word for that, i mean. it's such a large fucking statistic.
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