Dr. Eli Bash
From Templar Connect
|Dr. Elijah Bash|
|Other Names||Eli, Screaming Guy|
|Relatives||Heidi Bash (separated wife), Cascade Abalone Bash (daughter), Ransom Bash (son)|
|The Mob Goes Wild, page 103.|
- Elijah: Hebrew, "The Lord Is My God".
- A basement-dwelling, binge-drinking eccentric, Doctor Eli Bash has suffered a recent and drastic reduction in living conditions after a break-up with his wife. His sudden and relative poverty has forced him to take the least desirable apartment in a lower-middle-class building predominantly populated by much younger people, such as Ben, Reagan, and Gene, and his pride is suffering from the indignity of his situation.
- Eli's unpredictable and oftentimes volatile personality has earned him the caution, fear, and ire of most of his building's tenants, although he's demonstrably capable of being entirely pleasant.
- - Spike
Scipio, Ben, and Gene help him back to his basement apartment in Abby Hall, which is full of a boxed collection of wax oddities shipped to him by his daughter. Eli's jacket is left in the street.
Ben meets with him the next day to return his wallet. While their initial contact is surprisingly cheerful, Eli later throws him out for reasons Ben doesn't understand. Reagan Mancuso later provides an explanation to Eli's seemingly irrational anger in Chapter 4: Trouble Every Day.
Eli is currently undergoing a divorce from his wife, who left him for a man named Errol. 
Spike on: Eli Bash
There's a vast gulf of difference between the sort of doctor Bash WISHES he was, and the doctor he is in practice. No pun intended.
In the workplace, he's actually putting food on the table as an endocrinologist. It's an unglamorous, but extremely vital specialty with a reliable workload. He ministers to glandular conditions, which can mean anything from pituitary gigantism to hypertrichosis. As a matter of fact, he probably went into the specialty because he was utterly fascinated by what happened to people when something in their glandular system went catastrophically wrong. Giants, bearded ladies, midgets, the mega-obese, precocious puberty, etcetera. But really, most of his patients are probably plain old diabetics. It probably bores him.
In the future, Bash will complain that he wishes he'd gone into the academic branch of medicine instead of the clinical one; not as a teacher, but as a curator. In his wildest dreams, he oversees the care and maintenance of a collection not entirely unlike his own, along with the acquisition of new pieces. He loves horrific-looking medical antiques. He's probably tried a lot of nerves, cornering people at dinner parties half-buzzed and describing Civil War-era plastic surgery and the effects of laudanum on the human cornea.
A scientist to the core, he's also got a preoccupation with making himself useful after death. He's probably been signed up to donate his body to science ever since med school, in whatever capacity it would be most useful. At the same time though, I think he's hoping he's shipped off to a "body farm," to rot in a field somewhere for the benefit of forensic research. The fact that he romanticizes the possibility of that fate for his mortal remains tells you a lot about him.
in the long forgotten form of Templar where everyone was animals Dr. Bash was a goat.