the good doctor
It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.
Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy
name Bedside Manner
real name Celia Fournier
monikers the Good Doctor
race Half-Roegadyn (Hellsguard) and Half-Elezen
age Late 60s
nameday January 1
height 6 fulms 8 ilms
place of birth Ishgard
hair color Red
eye color Emerald green
orientation Heterosexual
martial status Spoken for & bonded
job Healer/Doctor
speciality Medicines, Healing, Alchemy, Mothering People
Standing at 7 fulms and 5 ilms, Bedside towers above most others. Something she is used, and had grown used to ever since childhood and it puberty hit. Her frame isn't as broad as most female Roegadyn's, given her mixed heritage; she stands tall and well muscled - from years of being a field medic, to working out alongside the soldiers of Isghard... to even doing her own training regime throughout the years.Despite her skins natural, soft reddish-pink tone, various lighting can cause it to almost look naturally peach toned, or even milk white. It often surprises people when they actually see her natural skin tone and Bedside can only laugh.She carries an inquisitive and thoughtful gaze in vivid, emerald green eyes, her face framed on the left side by chin-length red hair left straight and curled at the bottom. The rest of her hair is swept back, held with a gel of her making.She's also usually not seen without her glasses on. People swear that she sleeps with them on! (And ... it may be partially true, given her habit of falling asleep at her desk.Across her left eye - caused by a patient - is a long scar, and to the left of often ruby colored lips is a beauty mark.What most don't see, however, is what she wears beneath her clothing: a simple silver chain, with two rings hanging from it: hers and her husband's wedding bands.
clothing;
The Good Doctor:
Ishgardian Casual:
Ishgardian Dress:
Casual Work:
Casual Everyday:
Working Out/Training:
Sleeping/Lingerie:
Born to the eldest son of a sub-house of House Dzamael and one of his kitchen staff, Bedside was born as Celia Fournier after her parents four year, secret tryst. As her mother - Sleeping Blossom - began to show being round with child, the cat was out if the bag and the two owned up to his parents about their affair.However, unlike most, neither were cast out or aside. Instead, the child was well-received (they were just pleased to finally have a grandchild!) and Celia was born into a loving household... not something that many of a mixed heritage could ever say.She took to the scholasticate easily, minding her own business for the most part amidst her time there. Studying and surpassing her seniors, outshining those who would dare speak in hushed whispers behind her back about that stupid half breed.Even as her childhood came to a close, and she moved her way through those awkward teenage years and into adulthood, she remained ever the same and ever as stubborn and bullheaded as she would always be.She excelled at her classes, especially those of the healing arts, and was hand picked by one of Ishgard's most well known chirurgeons to become his successor.It would be within those formative teenage years that she would meet a Roegadyn knight of House Haillenarte.
It was her last prayer to Halone - one asking to keep her husband safe within Her gilded halls and welcoming embrace, as well as one asking Her for forgiveness. The woman's faith had left her - lost, vanished, gone - shortly after news of his death arrived at her door. Many others had perished in the war, families without sons and husbands and daughters and wives. And she had thought herself impervious to it, given his standing and abilities.But the wrym had caught his group off guard, had attacked before they were even aware it was there.All of them. Dead. Sons, daughters, husbands, and wives...And her heart sat heavy and hollow within Halone's halls.Forgive this woman, for she has sinned.
It seemed that, within the walls of the Holy See, happiness was never something one could keep a hold onto for long. It always slipped right out of your fingers, like a chilled glass with ice melting inside of it. To be optimistic within Ishgard was a feat upon itself, and something one should be proud of themselves of being able to do.In Ishgard, happiness was fleeting.The war had ever been going on for a thousand years, many good men and women lost to it. Sons, daughters, husbands, wives. People lost to history that no one would remember, besides their family and loved ones, others regaled as heroes and saints for achievements others had done prior or after them yet were not afforded the same luxury or glory.Happiness, for Celia, was as fleeting as a dove's wings. Where she had found her first and true love, the man that she had wished to spend the rest of her life with, and had ever had a son with him... it felt as though she had lost him all too soon.It had been a handful of days prior to when his unit would be returning to the Holy See, and to be allowed a bit of reprieve from their duties. To see their loved ones, as the next unit went out in their place. But as that day came, and then went, Celia found herself slowly tearing herself away from her work to await for him.And it was if all of Ishgard knew the reason for his lack of return, and yet chose to keep her blind to it.Not until, once evening, a knock in the middle of the night awoke her from her slumber from the couch of the sitting room.Stumbling, groggy, still asleep, she opened the door to find a knight there with a letter in hand. She had seen this countless times before, at other houses, with other folks, with other people. She had never thought she would see it. She had never believed the day would come where she would get news of her own husband's passing. But there it was - in a sealed envelope and the downcast expression upon the knight's face.
“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”
Ernest Hemingway
With the end of the Dragonsong War, and no other reason to stay in Ishgard now that it had opened its gates and borders to others, and with her husband and son's passing amidst what felt as a never-ending cycle, Celia bid her family and home farewell. With little more than the needed supplies and tools of a doctor, and extra clothing she set off to explore the world that lay beyond Ishgard's frozen gates.
She wouldn't have been able to tell anyone, were they to ask, just how long it had been she wandered and used her knowledge of medicine to help those in need. From adventurers along the road, to the refugees that lived inside - and outside - of Ul'dah. She had been tending to those who needed it, without asking a gil in return.However, over those years, she had coined herself a new name to go by. She was not Celia Fournier to these people. To them she was the good doctor Bedside Manner - a name that felt most fitting to the Roegadyn, given how oft she had been teased about it while working the infirmary back in Ishgard.A wandering doctor that could be found in the three city states at various intervals of time. As if perfectly scheduled. A wandering healer with a precise touch and motherly care.
words
Known as "The Good Doctor" to those who had the pleasure of working alongside her in Ishgard - whether it be a Knight going to her for healing and aid, fellow doctor or chirurgeon, or even just someone from the Brume she took to tending to... because who else would?
personal;
her husband;
k'hesfu;
other;
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