Chapter Text
A bit of time passes on well, the Doctor still wishing to go back to his homeland back to France but there is not much he could do to enact upon his wish. How could the people of Europe be faring so far? Hopefully not dead in the clutches of the Pestilence quite yet as he still has to perfect his miraculous cure to help the human race and rest once and for all.
Things at this dimension were going quite well until the Doctor was called out of his room for the first time; this job the Anguished Lord had assigned him was finally coming into play then. What shall it be? The Doctor wondered as he was escorted by those guards once again — truly they did not seem to trust him to walk on his own!
Walking down the dreaded hallway was quick and easy; standing in front of the Lord with the servants burning gazes was not as much, but he did not mind. Staring down at him the Black Lord shooed the servants away with the flick of a hand — now leading the Doctor somewhere, and attempting small talk on the way.
“How are you fairing, Wandsman?” Spoke the Anguished Lord slowly as if the Doctor couldn't understand him; what a bastard he truly was! That mocking tone and arrogant atmosphere the Lord gave off didn't help the case of the Doctor hating him either — ought this mask learn some manners indeed.
Glaring at the Black Lord the Doctor replied, polite but still holding an undertone of resentment. “I am doing well, and I prefer you call me Doctor — I am sure it's quite evident.”
And with that the Doctor quickly shut down the conversation and proceeded to keep walking in the direction the Lord was taking him; soon being inside a lonely room furthest away from any others. It smelled of sickness and disease, not a smell anyone liked to have in their presence. Nevertheless the Anguished Lord led him inside and promptly closed the door after.
The room was barren other than a single masked person laying on what seemed to be a hospital bed, cracks all over its face and leaking a black substance that harmed the objects around it as they came into contact.
With another moment of staring at the sick the Black Lord walked out and left the Doctor inside; one of his servants came in instead to survey what was going on. Opening his pocket and smelling the Lavenders he stored he did; calming down with the familiar smell — he would surely have to plant the flowers somewhere so they would not wilt and die soon.
Continuing on the servant nudged the Doctor closer; telling him to quicken his work and stop his thinking, and that the Doctor would do. Fortunately they did not leave him without any tools nearby (though having his bag in his hands or vicinity right now would be better) and proceeded to dissect the now dead mask person.
Trying to take off the mask was useless as it was pried onto the person's face and seemed to only fall off if it was absolutely necessary; or maybe if the mask chose to get off in the first place. The Doctor did not know either if this corrosive substance would harm him, but tried to get the smallest amount of it on him as possible.
Later on the procedure went well and brought the corpse back to life! Such a genius he was, the Doctor thought — being proud of his work of course. Even if the masked servant inside the room did have a frowning expression upon seeing his work it was not something the Doctor had not encountered before; people just do not know how to react to his cure yet surely.
Nevertheless the servant nodded upon seeing the masked specimen stand up and move around slowly; looking around the room. Soon his patient was escorted out of the room with another citizen to come in and take him to the Anguished Lord.
Surprisingly… the Lord looked pleased, his frown lifting just a slight bit more than usual which the Doctor barely noticed; unlike the masked person who escorted him seemed more shocked for whatever reason that the Doctor did not know. But quickly as the Doctor came he went and was led back to his living quarters.
The Doctor predetermined that the patient he was just treating injuries were due to some sort of big blast or damage that happened at once; but chose not to say so as he thought no one would care for that. Reading more books provided to him would be nice, wouldn't it? The Doctor thought and proceeded to do so, sitting down on his provided chair and began to read.
Along next was the Lord now upon his wretched throne — that previous slight rising of his frown now gone. That excitement previously shown was groundbreaking; this strange illness that was apparent in everyone seemed to be cured by this Wandsman! How marvelous. Though there were no grounds for special celebration it could have been pure luck; even if unlikely.
Those tears only showed themselves if some big accident happened, the Black Lord could only hope such did not happen to him. Even if the substance secreted would be fun to test on others it would only become a nuisance later on and he would definitely grow to hate it; or perhaps it could help him in some distant time, but either way, he would prefer to not have those tears running from the ill person's face.
With more days of these procedures going on the Lord started to gain some trust for the Wandsman. He never truly trusted anyone in Alagadda as everyone would gladly backstab you for information — not saying he didn't do the same of course. It was just the way of living for them these days, peace was not an option to live comfortably and lies were the way of surviving now — it was how he got this job in the first place.
A new meeting was called soon with those other brothers of his; even as much as he hated them he still had to come and attend. Tiresome as it was, they were talking of that Wandsman now, asking of his achievements and what to do with him; not so patiently waiting for answers.
“He did well. Cured the masked civilians of the tears quite well.” The Black Lord responded with a flat tone — all of a sudden all the mask could think of was that Wandsman, almost stuttering over his words. His work was miraculous and was truly charming, but of course he didn't say that out loud; the other Lords would surely take it to their advantage. The Wandsman was just a servant of his that happened to get lucky with scoring a deal with him.
His thoughts usually never got in the way of his work nor emotions, feeling anguished for such a long time sparks a feeling of apathy in you for a time. Matter not; must be some sort of hate or indifference he had managed to garter towards this Wandsman. The only reason he hasn't gotten rid of him yet is because he managed to do his job well enough for now — no other reason definitely.
Nevertheless he must now stop pondering upon this and continue talking to the other insufferable masks in the same room as him. Trying to bait just enough time for the Wandsman to live another few days until he makes another great discovery — unless if the Hanged King has something to say about it.
And so it went on, the nonsensical rambling of other matters and the slight mention of the Wandsman as said earlier. All of it bored him just as much as usual — other than the part of the Wandsman of course. The people, the King, the infrastructure, the visitors and new arrivals of these lands, all sorts of things were said before it finally came to a conclusion.
The Black Lord was back in his place of reign once again, sitting upon his throne.
Lavenders, the lavenders in the Doctors pocked were wilting slowly sure — this dimension seemed to have different properties than his very clearly. But what bothered him most was the slow decay of the flowers. If they go this slow then this world must have very different ways about going around with death; either taking it to celebration or something saddening.
If this world possessed things that were slow at destroying anything non-alive and reviving the nutrients back into the soil then what happened here? Is it the same process or something else?
He could not ponder long before another knock was made on the Doctor's door; getting up to answer it would be polite, exactly what the Doctor did. Once it was opened the same servant from the other day stood — waiting for the Doctor to come out not so patiently which he did just that, once out he was led back to the pretentious Lord he detested.
More of his silly requests were filled by the Doctor with the days going by, annoying him greatly but having no choice to do anything but do so. But besides that the Anguished Lord seemed to get more comfortable with his presence by the day — at this point pushing away his own servants. The masks servants were annoying but better company compared to the drought the void of loneliness is, so it was a good enough solution for now, even if the Black Lord was annoying.
The days stretched on annoyingly so but he grew to hate the Lord a little bit less each day; getting to help people was a plus too. But sad as it was that he could not get back to his world yet was not something he did not like — there were so many suffering of the Pestilence.
Grabbing his lavenders from his pocket the Doctor stared at them; their gradually wilting. Even with their slow rate its demise would be soon if he couldn't nurse them back to health with the needed materials.
Pondering upon it for a moment the Doctor stepped outside — or rather how far he could go before the masked servants thought he was attempting to escape — and found himself in a garden of sorts.
It seemed sad as ever with its condition; no one had definitely come in a while to tend to it, but no matter, he shall take on the job when he can. Just as long as he can avoid that annoying Lord that is… Plus it's the closest he could get to actually doing his job of ridding the world of the Pestilence at the moment.
Planting down the wilted lavenders he did, then covered their ripped out roots in the soil and grabbed a glass of water that he happened to find nearby and water his plant. The activity was alright to refresh his mind at the moment of all the events going on around him and allowed him to think deeper on how to escape; perhaps persuade the Lord in some way? Though it was unlikely.
There was now a presence behind him that was familiar — it was the Anguished Lord behind him watching what he was doing. Leaning closer the Lord kept watching as the Doctor grew increasingly more nervous about his peering eyes. “Do you need something?” The Doctor turned his head around to face the Black Lord, questioning his actions while wishing he would just go away. “Not at all, just curious.” Answered the mask back.
With a few moments of silence the Doctor went back to tending to his lavender; now ignoring the Lord as best he could. He wished he had never had come to this land, but he understood why the Anguished Lord was so persistent in helping his people — even if it maybe had a hidden ulterior motive.
“What is your reason for tending to the flowers, Wandsman?” Questioned the Black Lord the same way the Doctor had questioned it, coming to sit beside him instead of standing — still watching him. “That question would just cause a big explanation.” The Doctor returned an answer; more just wanting the mask to leave.
“Oh please, I wouldn't mind.”
“But you would, so just leave me alone.”
The Black Lord kept pestering him about talking about what he was doing and his reasons for doing so; even with that watching his every move as he planted the lavenders. Honestly, it was really starting to get to the Doctor — perhaps it was a bad idea to go outside today but nonetheless he could do nothing about it now. “I am planting lavenders because I want to, plus I would not like to see them die in my care, not now.”
With that the Anguished Lord listened for a moment, accepting the response and now just back to watching the Doctor. Occasionally the Lord would ask questions as well, asking about his methods and such for what he was doing with the flowers — getting the Doctor to slowly relax and budge more about his work.
“You have to be careful when planting flowers and such or else they could die, especially if they are ones that need extra care. Though I am not an expert on gardening — so I am not sure if my dear lavenders will survive.” Answered the Doctor to one of the Lords peering questions, indulging the Black Lord in his curiosity a bit.
But once the flowers were finally planted and the Doctor stood back up to return to his room the Lord stopped him; holding onto his arm sleeve with what seemed to be something desperate — wanting him to stay at least it a bit longer.
“Dont leave me yet, will you, Wandsman?”
Sighing, the Doctor sat back down onto the grass nearby, it seemed an unusual color from his world and not green like he would have expected; but still sat down. “Its Doctor or my name, I would prefer those over ‘Wandsman.’” He turned to face the Lord now sitting next to him, still holding his arm.
“What will your name be then?” Shot back the Black Lord, for whatever reason the Doctor could detect a bit of excitement coming from it. Now the Lord was staring at the Doctor hopefully — he looks just as beautiful as he saw him in that book for the first time — nevermind that, he needs to answer. “Florence Haselhurst.”
The Anguished Lord's face changed… It was happy all of a sudden with a big grin across its porcelain face unlike the usual deep frown. The Lord's hand tightened on the Doctor's sleeve just a bit more as he came closer “What a pleasing name you have.” Florence turned away — hiding the slight feeling he had of being flustered — and instead just asking the Lord about his name instead
“And your name? What shall it be?” Florence turned back around to face the Anguished Lord, that smile on his face still there; he wondered if to either slap him for keeping him here or to just keep it civil — perhaps an insult could do again…
The Anguished Lord slowly let go of the Doctor, albeit reluctantly. “Dyo Poloni, how charming, isn't it? I have had many names over the ages, find yourself lucky I am giving you the first one.” And after that the Black Lord left as soon as he came. Florence couldn't help but feel confused about the whole situation but still some time after that got up and returned to his room.
Though now again with a repetitive schedule coming in of surgery to find a cure, a little amount of break time, and repeat. Almost seemed like his old life if only he was working on the Pestilence instead of whatever tar-tears like disease this was; but with that he had to get back to work now.
Finding himself back in the surgery room he couldn't help but think of the Lords — well, Dyo’s, actions a few days ago. Honestly… if he played into it a bit he could perhaps find himself a way to escape out of this dimension; even if unlikely there is still a chance, no? But that would be a bit cruel, playing with someone's feelings just for their own gain, but that didn't mean that the Anguished Lord was a good person either.
No matter, he must work to cure the world of the Pestilence one way or another, and in order for that some lives have to be sacrificed to save others — including someone's feelings and such. Surgery was on the rise and the Doctor had to go back to work on curing those masked people of those annoying burning tears.
Though now there was Dyo sitting on his throne, that feeling from earlier had the Black Lord all sorts of conflicted about its feelings for the Wandsman. That familiar hate that he always had for everyone still lingered for him — but Florence… the mask's hate for him slowly went down as it had started to hope to see him everyday; that feeling of longing was pleasant but foreign as he had never felt that way about anyone before.
And including that all it mostly felt all the time was sadness; hence being called the Anguished Lord after all. But now… why does it feel this way? Especially giving out his real name like that could be a risky move to do, but the moment it felt the Wandsman suddenly it felt like all its problems were gone — vanished! Such a feeling of ease filled it in that moment that made it not want to let go for any reason.
This whole emotions and feelings thing was really not his strong suit other than causing pain for others really; way too complicated for its liking. And even as a blissful feeling he got from the Wandsman the Lord could not afford to be seen as weak — not by anyone definitely. Though time was ticking and the Anguished Lord had to get up and do his duties around; while it is not preferred for it to do them, it still had to after all. If you want power and have it you also have to maintain what you gained in order to not lose it.
Perhaps the mask could go watch the Wandsman work, yes, then maybe it could take notes on him and maybe get rid of its feelings. Walking into that stuffy room it seemed oh so bland in there; no fancy decorations… Though it is quite alright, it was a room for the sick after all — and if the mask wished he could get it furnished in a matter of mere seconds!
Standing at the back of the room watching the Wandsman perform was truly enchanting to it; while the other guards watching didn't seem as amused as it was. The Wandsmans — Florence’s face seemed to be the best part of it all. His focused face made the Black Lord ache for him even more; perhaps it was a bad idea coming here, since he wanted to remove his feelings, not enhance them.
No matter at all, it was content watching the Wandsman and reveling in this feeling just a bit more; he had never felt it after all before meeting its wonderful Florence. Even though the mask only knew a trace of what the Wandsman was doing it was just enough, enough to watch this peculiar person just a bit more as he worked. This might be its favorite pastime if it allows it to get that far…
The Doctor though couldn't help but wonder why the Lord was staring at him, and now it was coming closer — had he done something wrong? No, definitely not. Could this be about the lavenders he planted? Though now that he thought about it a bit deeper it surely couldn't be that either; that stare is weird, but it could help with his escape plan later on if he plays his cards well.
No matter, he needs to finish his surgery because messing up and getting off track could wound up this patient dead. Slicing down the middle of the body from the neck down to the pelvis was easy, now cutting under the chest, yes, the procedure is going well. He also needed to regularize the blood loss and figure out how this strange disease messes up various bodies.
Next would be to experiment with the bodies various reactions, including the mask part especially since that seemed to be where the tears mainly formed. Peculiar… it didn't have any reactions to any substances he tried testing the samples of various tissues and the tears.
How troublesome this truly was, especially with the Anguished Lord breathing down his neck like that… he really can't continue surgery like this, he must finish quickly. Slicing open some tissue, doing whatever else that was needed, and stitching the body back up and together. Even though he was not able to get rid of what was bothering the masked fellow, at least he got some valuable information on how different things reacted to this disease.
With now being finished he then put away all the surgical tools and such — including of course washing the instruments first. The masked civilian got up, seemed a bit shaken upon seeing the Black Lord there, and then walked off quickly. Dyo then seemed to gesture to the guards to get out; which they quickly did, leaving the both of them alone in the freshly cleaned surgical room.
The Anguished Lord being right behind the Doctor made him a bit nervous; it was just close enough to at this point breathe down his neck. And even if the guards were only there to stop him from escaping they still provided some comfort to him, especially when this Lord is right there behind him. Maybe if the mask hadn't dismissed the guards, then he would be able to confirm with himself that indeed the Lord is proceeding with this chain of action.
Now with the Black Lord putting its hand onto the Doctor's shoulder just made him get even more nervous, but as a good part that pleasing smile came back on its face to surprise him. “Your work is so very fascinating… mind explaining what you are doing?” And though even such a simple question it made the Doctor perk up with excitement.
“Medicine is very interesting! What I was doing just now was taking tissue samples, including those tears, and testing them with various parts of the body to see how they react. Health and science are quite fascinating, but I am more acquainted with the medical field of course.” The Doctor's eyes looked like they were shimmering like a star in the sky of Alagadda, those eyes of his staring right at the Anguished Lord while explaining his passion.
It was truly warming to the heart as the Lord kept listening intently — at this point anything the Wandsman said flew right over its head but it was happy Florence was so excited about a topic such as this. Even with the Wandsmans rambling slowly coming to an end he already seemed to get much more comfortable with the Lord in that moment.
Though the Doctor was quite happy at this moment he still desired to leave this land; still thinking about that plan to string the Lord along to help him get out of here. Having someone, even if a mask, was nice to talk to about his research as in France no one was quite as interested in it as him — though he does not blame the people, everyone is trying to survive in times like those of the royalty being quite rude to the citizens.
“Your work indeed is very… interesting, is there anything specific in medicine you focus on, Florence?”
“I have to focus on curing the Great Dying, the Pestilence! That wretched disease gets into everyone and everything and I have to find a way to cure all people before it's too late.”
“How righteous your goals are — and how did you find yourself here in the land of Alagadda?”
“I was looking for a certain physician that might be able to help me in my search for the cure, talking with educated individuals is quite nice about topics such as that. But unfortunately in my search for that wise man I ended up in this dimension.”
Now with his words slowing down the Doctor finally was able to leave, even if he enjoyed the company he couldn't let himself get attached to anything but his work. Maybe though perhaps if this Lord was able to help him in his search of curing the Pestilence he could tolerate it for just a bit — but that definitely won't happen for a while.
It just couldn't help but feel ecstatic; a smile on its face now more prominent than usual. Although sadly as soon as the conversation ended before the Lord could start another the Wandsman slipped away when the chance was present. Unfortunately so, but the Black Lord had to deal with it.
Oh how wonderful that Wandsman, Florence was. The mask couldn't help but feel lucky with scoring such a fine subject — a smart one at that as well, and quite pretty. It just couldn't help but keep thinking about the Wandsman all the damn time, and it was starting to reflect poorly on its work; the King might get mad!
The Black Lord couldn't possibly allow that, while the Wandsman was important he couldn't let itself get too ahead of itself and end up getting demoted because it wanted to act foolishly. It had to play its cards just right in order to be able to not only get more power but also somehow get Florence on its side, and even better is that right now it is making great progress with that!
Just now has to think of ways to woo him over…