[Moon 9, Morning, Distillery] Herbal Remedies (Open)

[Isawa Junpei]

His pale pallor and the evening of night-sweats made Junpei look like a drowned corpse this morning. Two days of nothing but feeling like his insides were attempting to tear him apart was beginning to ware on him. The tempestuous kami all around the ship were, sadly, not helping either. Their fury was only fueling Junpei's growing combination of misery and frustration. He could feel his anger rising which was an unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation. His heart beat just a touch faster and his brow beaded with sweat, but he would be damned if he would shame the Isawa name by being the first to go to sick bay for anything less then a missing leg. No, he would take care of this problem himself like he had yesterday. So, stepping into the distillery, he made his way over to the table he'd found his remedy on yesterday.

[Shiba Nozomi]

Nozomi figured she'd be finding the large brewing Isawa O-Washi either here or in sick-bay, taking care of those who might be having difficulties with the more tumultuous movement of the ship. As such, she thought she'd offer some help, as the first few days always seemed to be the worst for those unused to life aboard a boat.

Poking her head into the distillery, she does indeed find an Isawa. Just... not the right one.

"S-S-Sumimasen, Isa-Isawa-sama..." Surprised, she starts to back out of the room, but doesn't manage to make it entirely out the door before she notices quite how green around the gills the man is looking. Without a second thought, she reaches down to the small oilcloth satchel at her side and pulls out a couple dried mint leaves. She had come prepared to deal with those of more delicate constitutions, after all.

"Eto..."The tiny tanned hand shakes lightly as the leaves are offered to the ailing Phoenix.

[Isawa Junpei]

It takes a moment for the Isawa to gather his wits enough to find the source of the voice. His eyes have trouble focusing, but he at least looks in the woman's direction. "Ah..." is all he could get out at first, "N...No. I'm f-...." He has to brace himself against the counter full of ingredients, "I'm fine. I just....just need a little crushed ginger." He turned his attention back to the table, looking around but missing whatever ginger was on the table.

[Shiba Nozomi]

The ginger was pretty much sitting in a bowl right in front of her... so Nozomi quickly picks up a piece and pulls a mortar and pestle from the low shelf she remembered it being on from the day before and begins to grind some out for him.

"You... wa-water, too, I-Isawa-sama?" Old habits die hard.

[Isawa Junpei]

Turning to see what she was doing Junpei could only shake his head, "N...No. And please....I can do this. No need to bother yourself." He tried stepping forward wobbling more than a little, but apparently intent on doing it all himself.

[Shiba Nozomi]

Slender fingers push the bowl of ground ginger towards him. "I w-was com...help... k-kind of thing anyway...No b-bother."

1. Don't insult him
2. Don't let him puke on your feet

[Isawa Junpei]

Junpei had to hold his head and close his eyes. The cadence of the young Shiba's voice made him think he was hearing only every third word she was saying. "No, please, there's no reason to....go through the....trouble."

[Shiba Nozomi]

For the love of Lord Shiba... he's not making this a gift-giving ceremony, is he?!?!

Taking a deep breath she places the bowl directly in his hands, slides a bucket over towards him with one foot, and says very carefully and clearly. "I insist."

[Isawa Junpei]

"NO!" Junpei shouted in growing frustration, his hair and kimono flying out in a whirl of motion as a gust of wind shook the drying herbs and jars of powders and ointments causing a distinct rattling. The air buffeted the tables and counters and even the small Shiba, though thankfully to no ill effect. The disturbance lasted only a moment before the young man got hold of hismelf, taking in a deep breath, then another,...and another.

"Gomen. I mean, no...that's quite alright." I am NOT useless, he kept repeating in his mind. I can do this.

[Shiba Nozomi]

Eyes flying open wide, Nozomi unconsciously cringes and the gust of wind hides her face behind her hair entirely. Torn between doing her duty and simply fleeing, she simply stays put, one small word escaping as barely a whisper.

"G-g-gome-menasai..."

[Isawa Junpei]

Trying to retain what little dignity he had left in the situation he simply ignored the apology, content to instead approach the table and begin grinding up a second piece of ginger. He thought to apologize, himself, but as it was his mind was preoccupied with trying to keep him from shaking, keep him upright, keep him conscious, and keep control. "I...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

[Shiba Nozomi]

Terrified, her brain goes on autopilot. Quickly, and without a second thought, the words fly out of her mouth. "Shiba Nozomi, at-your-s-service-Isawa-s-sama."

[Isawa Junpei]

Junpei nodded, so used to the idea of others around being Phoenix, after all this was his first time stepping foot outside of Phoenix lands, not counting a few day trips on a friendly fishing boat. It took him a moment to fully process that the name wasn't a commonality out here, "Excuse, did...did you say Shiba?"

[Shiba Nozomi]

The tiny girl becomes even smaller. "Hai?"

[Isawa Junpei]

"How....how nice to have a fellow clansman on board," he tried his best to sound invested in the conversation, his practiced air assisting, so long as you didn't look at his face which was as pale as snow. "I-" he was cut off, swaying, the pestle in his hand grinding into the bowl before knocking it over. He braced himself against the table for what felt like the millionth time. Taking a minute to regain his composure, he stared at the now spilled ingredients. Shit!

"Oh, how clumsy of me," he tried to toss off his obvious sickness as nothing more than a moment of inattention. Trying to gather up what little he could and place it back in the mortal, everything seemed laborious both to him and anyone who was watching.

[Shiba Nozomi]

One foot shuffles slightly. "I... if you've g-got ev..everything under c-control... I c-can leave... if you'd l-like?"

Wide eyes watch him very, very carefully from behind the wall of hair.

[Isawa Junpei]

"No, that won't be nece-...necessary." Fortunes give me strength. I'm pathetic. He slumped against the wall of the room, having given up on all attempts to finish his work. "I can't do it."

[Shiba Nozomi]

Taking this as permission to do her job, Nozomi quickly helps him to a more comfortable position on the floor, subtly slipping one of the previous pieces of mint into his hand as she does so. Taking a soft step back, she returns to the table, and habit takes over once again. Practiced movements soon find a small piece of ginger ground up and into a glass of water, with a few other little tidbits of this or that herb added to increase the efficacy.

Before too long, the tonic is held out gingerly in from of him.

[Isawa Junpei]

How humiliating...

He couldn't even look the woman in the eye when she brought his remedy. Yesterday he'd managed to make the exact same thing and be fine. Today...worse. And so, he nursed his drink, taking in about half of it and then he bit off a bit of the mint leaf, chewing it slowly to let the herbs take effect. At the very least he didn't feel as queasy, but it would be a bit before true relief would come. He only prayed that it would come before his body decided to purge it.

[Ikoma Hikaru]

A few moments later Ikoma Hikaru enters the Distillery. He is dressed in a fine court kimono and is thumbing a set of pristine prayer beads in his right hand. It is one of the few times the Ikoma has been seen outside the crew quarters during his free time. Since arriving on the ship nobody can think of a time that Hikaru has even spoken to somebody outside the execution of his duties. He stops at the door and bows very slightly, little more than a nod of his head. His gold specked eyes watch the other two samurai as the converse.