Because nobody wants a surgeon that can't see where they're cutting.
[ Jiaoqiu's response is wry, but largely unbitter. He's still... somewhat torn on how he feels, having to give up being a doctor. Sometimes, when his emotions are particularly frozen over, he doesn't really care. Sometimes, it rankles.
Absently, he feels his way over the rest of the tools, but doesn't bring out another yet. He'll give Castiel some more time with the two he's introduced so far, to get to know them. ]
I can still cook, though, and I can consult. So I can make myself at least a little useful. If you've got any questions at all, no matter the time of day or night, please don't hesitate to call.
If it's just about surgery, the robots can do that. Or me, if necessary. [He can cut stuff like a PRO. Also blah blah acute and pristine knowledge about the components of the body. Human bodies, anyway.] You obviously have far more intimate knowledge of medical practices than I could hope to acquire, at least any time soon. You shouldn't undersell how vital that knowledge is.
[Puts the injector aside and moves back to the blood analyzer. Mortals really out here making so many crazzyyyy machines just bc they can't turn into light and beam healthiness into themselves and each other. It's so resilient and brave.]
Still, I cannot visually observe the redness or pattern of a rash. I cannot see if a wound is beginning to fester before the symptoms truly show. I cannot see the whites of a patient's eyes, or the underlying color of their fingernails, or even their body language.
[ His shoulders slumps fractionally, and ah, it seems he is starting to veer toward feeling bad about it. How inconvenient. ]
There are a million small things I can no longer do, and cannot rely on patients to be able to accurately inform me about. Here, on uncharted planets, I could not even rely on scans to diagnose common illnesses and injuries, as there will no doubt be a bevvy of exotic bacteria, viruses, and god knows what else.
[ He smiles, wry. ]
Like I said. I may be able to be of some small help if you need a consult, but it's for the best that I stick to cooking. Now, why don't I show you how the medical bed scans work?
[Even for someone as behind in conversational cues as Castiel is, the dismissal is obvious.
Maybe if they were friends, he'd push. Maybe if they were closer, or if the ship's needs were more dire, or even if Cas hadn't seen that brief tensing of the shoulders when he'd pointed out the chair- maybe then, he'd have locked his jaw like a dog with a coveted bone.
Then again, maybe it's the opposite. Sympathy does its fair share of heavy lifting when it comes to avoidance, and Cas might not know exactly what this is like, but he does know what it feels like to think of itself as less than you were. Sometimes pride is important.
He acquiesces.]
I've been meaning to ask if you had any thoughts regarding the inconclusive scans. [He comes up beside Jiaoqiu next to the medical bed. The devices and equipment all seem to use similar layouts, at least; the screen here is like a larger version of the one on the bio-scanner.] If there's a way to fix the...computer's problem... when scanning individuals who aren't human.
Ah, the cause is likely simple⸻ it's probably just never scanned the particular species you're trying to scan, so it has no base knowledge to work off. You pointed a bio-scanner at me when we first met: it also came up inconclusive, didn't it?
[ He gets up off the wheely chair, and plants himself on the med bed, sitting back against the headboard with his legs crossed. It's not terribly comfortable, but then, medical beds never are. ]
Computer, do a comprehensive set of scans to establish base parameters for species 'Foxian'.
[ And so, within seconds, a holographic representation pops up, various types of scans overlaid on each other. Jiaoqiu can hear the gentle hum of the projection of the hologram, but he cannot pinpoint where it is; likely floating above him. ]
There. Now the database here should recognize me, at least. You'll need to get base scans of other Wayfarers, too, if there are other species among us.
[The display that slowly rotates above the bed is indeed complete and comprehensive; gone are the error messages from the handheld scanner, and in their place are fields of data displaying information in both familiar and unfamiliar metrics. This is what happens when you don't keep up with scientific advancements in the last two thousand years, and then get yeeted into a futuristic alternate universe. At least the language translates, and math is universal.]
So if another member of your race were to arrive, would it use your own current health as a baseline for them? [Because that blood pressure, man...that oxygen level...]
[ Jiaoqiu falters ⸻ he'd been so caught up in the science that he'd completely forgotten about his own physical flaws ⸻ but recovers soon enough, smiling wryly. ]
I see your point. Yes, these numbers are going to need some adjusting.
[ With that, he starts instructing the computer on what to set the base numbers of Foxian physiology at, from blood pressure, to oxygen level, even to efficiency of stem cell regeneration.
Then he swivels a curious ear toward Castiel. ]
What about you? Are you baseline humanoid, or something else? I have an earpiece that describes my surroundings, but it's fairly useless at detailed descriptions of people ⸻ it occurs to me that you could be a creature made entirely of tentacles and boils and I'd have no idea.
[He's taking mental note of those changes, though has decided that any observations or questions pertaining to Jiaoqiu's health and wellbeing are better left unspoken. He can ask later, if it becomes pertinent.]
This body is human. But you're right, [yeah, actually, it's a good idea to make sure, just in case. He's no good for protecting Dean if he's incapacitated over some silly little ailment because he never did this for himself. (Reminder: get Dean scanned later.)
Castiel climbs up into the other bed, tapping in commands as he'd observed Jiaoqiu had done (with only a little backtracking necessary) and sits similarly, fingers laced over his stomach. The display returns the expected results; human, male, early forties, average vitals. No wounds, no medical conditions of note, but when it comes to brain activity the results return a curious result of [NO BRAIN ACTIVITY FOUND.] Braindead. Makes sense; that hospital had assumed the same.]
[ Between this body is human and NO BRAIN ACTIVITY FOUND, there certainly is quite a bit to think about, now!
Jiaoqiu hops off the medical cot he'd been occupying, and moves toward the bed Castiel is sitting on, hands raised as if to interact with the scans. He lowers them at the last moment, and rests them against the edge of the mattress. He is largely at peace with his blindness, but right now, he is burning with curiosity. ]
You're some sort of parasitic entity then, I assume? A smaller entity within an assumed host?
[ He says it with no judgement, only curiosity. He wants to know if Castiel moves unusually, or doesn't make expressions correctly, or stands awkwardly. He wants to know what manner of entity he is, and how well he adapts to the human body. He wants to know if a humanoid is his preferred host, or if it's something else, like a hermit crab grudgingly using a plastic cup as a shell. ]
Hopefully Jiaoqiu's descriptive aid is translating the sheer affront on Castiel's usually expressionless face as he searches for a way to correct the guy without saying excuse me the fuck]
I'm an angel. [Parasite???? Smaller entity? Girl he isn't a demon. Obviously what he does is completely and totally different and nothing like what a demon does and wait just a second, his line of logic is trying to sidestep into some uncomfortable parallels.]
[Well. ...that's a little mollifying, but still. A parasite, seriously. Thank god he can't hear surface thoughts right now, because otherwise his feathers would get all ruffled up again at 'nobler parasite.']
Angels are- beings of photonic energy. [So weird to explain this to someone without even incorrect information on what an angel is. The word is so ubiquitous on Earth that even those who don't believe in their existence still know what they are, across all religions.] Divine photonic energy. I'm unable to interact safely with mortals in my true form, so I have to inhabit a mortal body when I walk the Earth.
[ Jiaoqiu frowns thoughtfully, taking that in. Divine photonic energy is certainly a new one, though it makes sense. The body that he inhabits is a shell for his true form, like a hermit crab, and that's why it registers no brain activity when scanned ⸻ his real brain activity would be within his true form. ]
I confess, I'm not entirely certain if this technology can even work with beings made of light and energy. Hmm. This may present a problem.
[ Jiaoqiu lays a hand on the control panel, but doesn't use it, merely taps it thoughtfully. He wants to ask all sorts of questions ranging from are you a god to what wavelength do you exist in, but those can perhaps come later. ]
This mortal body, can it get injured or sick? Can your true form get injured or sick?
[Jiaoqiu could honestly do whatever he wanted with the machine and Castiel wouldn't lift a finger to stop him. The man has had ample opportunity to lie, cheat, or otherwise do anything dishonest, and instead he's volunteered his time to come to the medical wing (at what looked like a cost, given by the pinched expression and the way he'd sunk into that chair) to try and help Castiel figure out how to use the machines.
There's obviously something wrong, some kind of history that's keeping him from practicing medicine, something that stole his senses and his energy and inflicted these lasting wounds on him- and yet. Here he is.
So, yes. Castiel trusts him. And he's sure, if he had his angelic senses and sight, he'd still trust him.]
The mortal body can be wounded and fall ill, but won't stay that way when I'm at full power. I heal wounds and cleanse maladies instantly just by virtue of my occupation. [He cranes his neck to see if Jiaoqiu is touching anything in particular, or just fidgeting.] My true form can be affected by certain weapons or curses, but they're difficult to come by. Angels were built to be soldiers and weapons; it wouldn't do to make them vulnerable to much.
I see. [ Jiaoqiu pauses, thoughtful. ] I ask because I'd like to know what needs to be done in the event of you getting injured. If someone like me gets hurt or sick, the treatment is very simple. But I suspect the Hosts will have no idea what to do if an entity made of light and energy gets hurt. And to be frank, neither would I. And I don't like not knowing how to treat someone.
[ By the way Castiel mentioned being at full power, he clearly has divine powers that have been muted by coming here, much like Jiaoqiu's fire magic and his Foxian senses.
He also doesn't like the way he said he was... built to be a weapon. It makes his heart ache quietly in the same way as decades past, seeing kids too young be sent into the battlefield, seeing older soldiers that smile and shrug and admit they don't know how to do anything else. He hates the concept of a person existing only for war, hates it with a fierceness he has to bite back and swallow down.
Jiaoqiu leans back, away from the console. He'd love to flick through its scans, but the holographic display is lost on him. ]
[Castiel lays there still, unmoving, hands still folded over his stomach and ankles crossed in imitation of the Foxian's own position in the other bed moments ago, and stares. What to do if he's injured?
It takes a moment for him to reply.] If I'm wounded, I'll recover with time. Unless I die. ...there likely isn't a treatment that would save me if I was wounded severely enough to threaten my life.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Jiaoqiu's response is wry, but largely unbitter. He's still... somewhat torn on how he feels, having to give up being a doctor. Sometimes, when his emotions are particularly frozen over, he doesn't really care. Sometimes, it rankles.
Absently, he feels his way over the rest of the tools, but doesn't bring out another yet. He'll give Castiel some more time with the two he's introduced so far, to get to know them. ]
I can still cook, though, and I can consult. So I can make myself at least a little useful. If you've got any questions at all, no matter the time of day or night, please don't hesitate to call.
no subject
[Puts the injector aside and moves back to the blood analyzer. Mortals really out here making so many crazzyyyy machines just bc they can't turn into light and beam healthiness into themselves and each other. It's so resilient and brave.]
no subject
[ His shoulders slumps fractionally, and ah, it seems he is starting to veer toward feeling bad about it. How inconvenient. ]
There are a million small things I can no longer do, and cannot rely on patients to be able to accurately inform me about. Here, on uncharted planets, I could not even rely on scans to diagnose common illnesses and injuries, as there will no doubt be a bevvy of exotic bacteria, viruses, and god knows what else.
[ He smiles, wry. ]
Like I said. I may be able to be of some small help if you need a consult, but it's for the best that I stick to cooking. Now, why don't I show you how the medical bed scans work?
no subject
Maybe if they were friends, he'd push. Maybe if they were closer, or if the ship's needs were more dire, or even if Cas hadn't seen that brief tensing of the shoulders when he'd pointed out the chair- maybe then, he'd have locked his jaw like a dog with a coveted bone.
Then again, maybe it's the opposite. Sympathy does its fair share of heavy lifting when it comes to avoidance, and Cas might not know exactly what this is like, but he does know what it feels like to think of itself as less than you were. Sometimes pride is important.
He acquiesces.]
I've been meaning to ask if you had any thoughts regarding the inconclusive scans. [He comes up beside Jiaoqiu next to the medical bed. The devices and equipment all seem to use similar layouts, at least; the screen here is like a larger version of the one on the bio-scanner.] If there's a way to fix the...computer's problem... when scanning individuals who aren't human.
no subject
Ah, the cause is likely simple⸻ it's probably just never scanned the particular species you're trying to scan, so it has no base knowledge to work off. You pointed a bio-scanner at me when we first met: it also came up inconclusive, didn't it?
[ He gets up off the wheely chair, and plants himself on the med bed, sitting back against the headboard with his legs crossed. It's not terribly comfortable, but then, medical beds never are. ]
Computer, do a comprehensive set of scans to establish base parameters for species 'Foxian'.
[ And so, within seconds, a holographic representation pops up, various types of scans overlaid on each other. Jiaoqiu can hear the gentle hum of the projection of the hologram, but he cannot pinpoint where it is; likely floating above him. ]
There. Now the database here should recognize me, at least. You'll need to get base scans of other Wayfarers, too, if there are other species among us.
no subject
So if another member of your race were to arrive, would it use your own current health as a baseline for them? [Because that blood pressure, man...that oxygen level...]
no subject
I see your point. Yes, these numbers are going to need some adjusting.
[ With that, he starts instructing the computer on what to set the base numbers of Foxian physiology at, from blood pressure, to oxygen level, even to efficiency of stem cell regeneration.
Then he swivels a curious ear toward Castiel. ]
What about you? Are you baseline humanoid, or something else? I have an earpiece that describes my surroundings, but it's fairly useless at detailed descriptions of people ⸻ it occurs to me that you could be a creature made entirely of tentacles and boils and I'd have no idea.
no subject
This body is human. But you're right, [yeah, actually, it's a good idea to make sure, just in case. He's no good for protecting Dean if he's incapacitated over some silly little ailment because he never did this for himself. (Reminder: get Dean scanned later.)
Castiel climbs up into the other bed, tapping in commands as he'd observed Jiaoqiu had done (with only a little backtracking necessary) and sits similarly, fingers laced over his stomach. The display returns the expected results; human, male, early forties, average vitals. No wounds, no medical conditions of note, but when it comes to brain activity the results return a curious result of [NO BRAIN ACTIVITY FOUND.] Braindead. Makes sense; that hospital had assumed the same.]
no subject
Jiaoqiu hops off the medical cot he'd been occupying, and moves toward the bed Castiel is sitting on, hands raised as if to interact with the scans. He lowers them at the last moment, and rests them against the edge of the mattress. He is largely at peace with his blindness, but right now, he is burning with curiosity. ]
You're some sort of parasitic entity then, I assume? A smaller entity within an assumed host?
[ He says it with no judgement, only curiosity. He wants to know if Castiel moves unusually, or doesn't make expressions correctly, or stands awkwardly. He wants to know what manner of entity he is, and how well he adapts to the human body. He wants to know if a humanoid is his preferred host, or if it's something else, like a hermit crab grudgingly using a plastic cup as a shell. ]
no subject
Hopefully Jiaoqiu's descriptive aid is translating the sheer affront on Castiel's usually expressionless face as he searches for a way to correct the guy without saying excuse me the fuck]
I'm an angel. [Parasite???? Smaller entity? Girl he isn't a demon. Obviously what he does is completely and totally different and nothing like what a demon does and wait just a second, his line of logic is trying to sidestep into some uncomfortable parallels.]
no subject
Jiaoqiu smiles, spreading his hands in the universal equivalent of a shrug. ]
My apologies. I'm afraid you've caught me in a topic I know nothing about: what is an angel?
[ Some sort of... nobler parasite? A spirit that possesses people? He has no idea. ]
no subject
Angels are- beings of photonic energy. [So weird to explain this to someone without even incorrect information on what an angel is. The word is so ubiquitous on Earth that even those who don't believe in their existence still know what they are, across all religions.] Divine photonic energy. I'm unable to interact safely with mortals in my true form, so I have to inhabit a mortal body when I walk the Earth.
no subject
I confess, I'm not entirely certain if this technology can even work with beings made of light and energy. Hmm. This may present a problem.
[ Jiaoqiu lays a hand on the control panel, but doesn't use it, merely taps it thoughtfully. He wants to ask all sorts of questions ranging from are you a god to what wavelength do you exist in, but those can perhaps come later. ]
This mortal body, can it get injured or sick? Can your true form get injured or sick?
no subject
There's obviously something wrong, some kind of history that's keeping him from practicing medicine, something that stole his senses and his energy and inflicted these lasting wounds on him- and yet. Here he is.
So, yes. Castiel trusts him. And he's sure, if he had his angelic senses and sight, he'd still trust him.]
The mortal body can be wounded and fall ill, but won't stay that way when I'm at full power. I heal wounds and cleanse maladies instantly just by virtue of my occupation. [He cranes his neck to see if Jiaoqiu is touching anything in particular, or just fidgeting.] My true form can be affected by certain weapons or curses, but they're difficult to come by. Angels were built to be soldiers and weapons; it wouldn't do to make them vulnerable to much.
no subject
[ By the way Castiel mentioned being at full power, he clearly has divine powers that have been muted by coming here, much like Jiaoqiu's fire magic and his Foxian senses.
He also doesn't like the way he said he was... built to be a weapon. It makes his heart ache quietly in the same way as decades past, seeing kids too young be sent into the battlefield, seeing older soldiers that smile and shrug and admit they don't know how to do anything else. He hates the concept of a person existing only for war, hates it with a fierceness he has to bite back and swallow down.
Jiaoqiu leans back, away from the console. He'd love to flick through its scans, but the holographic display is lost on him. ]
no subject
It takes a moment for him to reply.] If I'm wounded, I'll recover with time. Unless I die. ...there likely isn't a treatment that would save me if I was wounded severely enough to threaten my life.