Hyde was moving along the road to one of the bars by the docks. Down the mountain side of the village to the sea. Oh how wondrous it was to be on call for the clinic and sent out for business. Really he just wanted to actually be employed at the hospital for his medical knowledge. Being sent out on these wondrous adventures was the work of an EMT not a surgeon. His skills were simply not being given their full consideration. Day after day being given the shit tasks for shit pay. Barely enough to pay rent in some apartment he held no connection to. Still the two weapons he was saving up for kept him going. Bonnie and Clyde he affectionately had called them. Oh well. His hammer and hand axe would have to wait. For now rent was due in a few days unless he left the apartment behind. So he was out on a call to a bar fight. No one was dying but one person seemed to have been bloodied. Typical for the ruffians. Not good enough to kill each other but not sensible enough to not try. Such a terrible waste of his skill sets.

As for why no one was taking him seriously, well it wasn't due to his lack of knowledge. He had actually studied medicine and was a decent surgeon. Certainly not to the level of transplants yet but surgery for wounds wasn't beyond him. To put it simply, he was given the more silly tasks because it seemed silly to give him anything real. He was a Hinode. So even though he was about twenty years old, he had the appearance of someone between ten and thirteen. It was part of their bloodline that they aged slower than others. Still he conducted himself professionally. He was walking along the road in a pair of dress shoes with black slacks with white stripes tucked over them. Tucked into it was a simple white button up shirt with the top two buttons undone. A black vest on over top of the shirt fully buttoned up. Black gloves covered his hands with a cigarette cased in his breast pocket. In his right hand he carried a black doctors bag the clinic had lent him. Filled with simple necessities for the job but not much else. No drugs he could be robbed for. Of course, hidden within his inner vest pocket was a small personal syringe. If things got dicey he could always heal someone on the fly via that.

This particular case had him heading to a bar on the docks. A rather hard backed bar this one. Filled with sailors and mountain men all vowing to be stronger than the other. Beating each other senseless for amusement or pride. Still it paid the bills so he supposed he wouldn't judge too harshly. Still he would take a moment to take a breath. His grey eyes scanning the outside a moment before squaring his shoulders. He disliked this place but he would manage. Savages the lot of them. Still he would step through the doors to what was a quiet mannered establishment for now. Sharp eyes begging one of them to suggest he be one his way so he could invite them to choke on their mothers soggy beaver. Still for a moment no one paid him much mind. Instead he would let the door swing closed behind him and step clear of them. Adjusting his color as he crinkled his nose at the smell of drunken men who likely pissed themselves as often as not. Still he would speak loudly and calmly.

"Someone was injured? Our clinic got the missive and sent me. How fortunate for us both."

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