[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
It was one of those mornings, where he woke up, edgy and restless probably as a result of the nightmare from the previous evening. Whatever the cause, Wilson hit the floor already wound up and going at 150%.

Dressed in his old worn jeans, a red t-shirt with a flannel shirt overtop he swung into the Clinic, carrying a cup of coffee from the perk and a bag of supplies he’d picked up from the Town Clinic when he’d stopped in to flip the ‘On Call’ light on. Dropping a set of CDs into the player, ranging from Afro Celt Sound Systems to NINs, he stripped down to just the t-shirt and jeans, before going to the supply cabinet and digging out the small box of tools they kept there.

In short order the celtic tones with deep drum bass line of the ACSS was thumping through the Clinic, mixing with the sounds of a ratchet and the sloshing of water and cleaning chemicals.

Yep it was that time again a full tear up the exam rooms and strip clean them to within an inch of their lives. Feel free to interrupt him; you might just have to shout over the music to get his attention.

Doctor on duty…just follow the sound singing.
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
He'd slept in, because it just felt good to sleep. He rolled out of bed around 10, let Cash out in the courtyard while he showered and took his meds with toast. The puppy was more than ready to come in, and House took a few minutes to play with him before heading into the clinic.

He sat at the desk witht he book of sonnets Geoff had given him. The poetry class requitred he read a few select works. He intended to read every one. For that reason, there was no Johnny Cash humming through the stereo system, but there was a sweet smelling coffee brewing in the pot.

The doctor is in. Interrupt him if you dare

[OOC: On days Dr Wilson doesn't open the clinic, I will post Dr House in as soon as I can after work, usually around 3:30 or so, EST. Today, I crashed and slept for two hours. Despite late posting, one can assume Dr House has been on site at the clinic all day, unless his post denotes otherwise. Clinic assistants (DEATH, Alanna, Lisa, and Paige once House gets the paperwork back) are also welcome and encouraged to make open clinic posts. For the benefit of new players, clinic posts should only be made by clinic staff. In emergancy, ping or email one of us!]

(no subject)

Sunday, January 8th, 2006 11:54 am
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
Saturday had been a good day for him. He hadn't managed to get to the book shop, which was good. He didn't want to see Aziraphale yet. Soon. But not yet.

By noon Sunday morning, he was in the clinic, playing The Beatles instead of Johnny Cash. Cash the puppy was asleep under the desk. The doors were open, coffee brewed in the pot.

The doctor is in. And in a fairly decent mood.

(no subject)

Wednesday, January 4th, 2006 03:49 pm
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
House was whistling a happy tune as he took Cash into the clinic. The dog stained and pulled on his leash, wanting to investegate the new sights and smells. House kept him close to his left side, reinforcing the training suggestions he'd read in the book he'd gotten at Phale's shop. House didn't turn the on-call light off right away, though there was more activity on campus than there had been over the holidays.

After letting Cash explore the entire clinic on the leash, House let him off the tether to see what he'd do. He out on a pot of coffee, for the aroma more than anything, and Johnny Cash in the CD player. He sat at the desk, and watched the dog roam the waiting area and sniff a trail to the lab. When House called, he returned to him, sat at his feet and looked up with bright, eager eyes. House rewarded him with a treat, and picked him up.

He opened the doors, though he didn't expect any patients. Cash was back on the leash, because House wasn't sure how he would react if someone came in.

The Doctor is in. Man and dog are at the desk. Cash is asleep in House's lap, House is working a crossword puzzle. You didn't think he'd be doing work, did you?
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH is sitting at the front desk, with his rubber duck keeping watch on the door. It seems to quack excitedly every time anyone walks in the door. He is reading a book on dance and directed and wearing a pair of shiney white gloves that make a very impressive jazz hand.*

DEATH is in. Bleed or play here.
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH and Binky are sitting at the reception desk with a deck of cards laid out into what appears to be a game of Solitaire. Periodically, Binky nudges DEATH on the shoulder, nickering softly.*


*Binky snorts in response.*

DEATH is in. And needs some activity. Go injure yourselves, or bring curry.
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH, taking Binky for a ride through the school halls, notices that the On Call light is still on. Riding through the clinic door, he switches the light off and sets Binky up with some oats in the waiting room. Unperterbed by his truncated after-class ride, DEATH begins braiding Binky's hair with red and green ribbon.

The horse seems unimpressed.

Those that cannot see DEATH feel a jolly sense of dread and notice that there appears to be a large, and now festive, white horse in the clinic waiting room.*

The Clinic is open. Bleed here, or pet the horsey.
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH is sitting behind the desk at the clinic, wearing his most festive holiday outfit, complete with christmas tree hat. He appears to be doing something with construction paper and glitter.

After a few moments, he holds up what appears to be a poorly mangled, if glittery, square of paper.*


DEATH is in. Chat, help DEATH decorate, or bleed. Take your pick
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH is still sitting at the desk as the evening wears on, reading his books and scribbling his notes. Perodically he experiments with various jazz hands techniques. He is beginning to wonder where the Rat had gotten himself too. He certainly had something to learn about efficiency, though, truthfully, he wasn't terribly bad. For a skeletal rat.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the Death of Rats comes scampering through the door, and scrambles up onto the desk, dropping a bag of candy triumphantly on the desk.*


*DEATH sets up a small red and green bowl, complete with blinking lights, on the desk, and pours the candy in. He begins to to pick through it, noting in appreciation that the assortment contains christmas colored gum drops, wax lips**, candy bells and a wide assortment of chocolates, including chocolate christmas trees.

The Death of Rats picks up a small, non-descript bit of chocolate, chewing cautiously. There was something about that candy man that made him wary. Still, he ought to let DEATH know about the recommendations.*



*DEATH, heeding the Rat's advice, removes the few wax lips to be had and several of the gum drops from the bowl.*

DEATH is in for the evening. And he has candy and jazz hands. Come bleed and be festive.

((OOC: The bag of candy was carried on the back of a *rat*. Which means there is only so much of it to be had. I'm putting a little ** by anything that the bowl is out of.))
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH, returning from the park, makes his way back to the clinic. He not only has his theraputic dance manual, but what appears to be a book on Earth agriculture and holiday traditions. He is flipping through it thoughtfully and then writing things down on paper.

The duck is apparently quacking a rousing rendition of "Old McDonald Had a Farm"

After several minutes, DEATH realizes something is missing. He waits expectently and, after a few moments, a small skeletal rat, complete with accoutrements, appears.*

DEATH is in. Bleed or chat here.
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH opens the clinic for the evening, taking up position at the reception desk. He appears to be reading a manual on theraputic dance and humming "All That Jazz" in a disturbingly dirge-like manner.

A small sign is posted in the clinic that reads:


The Clinic is Now Closed. The doctors are likely on call, but DEATH has left the building.
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
After a hot shower and a breakfast of toast and Lavender tea, House went into the clinic. He refilled the bowl of lollipops, all the red ones suspiciously missing.

There was also a bowl of bell shaped Butterfinger candies set on the desk. And coffee brewing in the pot, the sweet Christmas blend mixing with the vague scent of sandlewood from Wilson's recent cleaning spree.

Dr sitting at the reception desk working on a crossword puzzle
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
Returning from town, House went through the small apartment, pausing in the kitchen to take his meds, then headed off to the clinic. He hadn't worked for more than a week, not since he'd treated Rory and strained his leg. As much as he hated to admit it (and would likely not admit it if asked) he missed it.

His leg ached a little from he chill, and hoped the nausea creeping up on him was from being out in the cold as well. He set a pot of coffee to brew, Wilson's special Christmas blend. The sweet aroma filled the small waiting area pretty quickly, and House sat at the desk with a red lolly and a couple files. His eyes flickered to the side, to The Pill Book sitting like a beacon on he end of the desk.

He reached over to finger the cover, and sighed.

[OOC: He's going to start feeling rotten again, so if you stop by, he may be testy. His bark is far worse than his bite, though, so... OOC the second, mun will be AFK from 9-10 eastern for canon]
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH, returning from a visit to The Fourth Sin, appears to be a bit preoccupied. He seems to be doodling on a bit of paper and then scribbling notes intermittently. The duck which he left on the desk seems to have very opinionated about whatever he is drawing.*

((OOC: DEATH!mun is going to bed. Think of DEATH as the strong, silent type for the rest of the night.))
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH can still be seen sitting at the desk from last night. His pen is scribbling maddly still and seems to have ammassed quite a large collection of notes. He continues to flip through his collection of books and magazines. Right now it appears the choice of reading is Rules for Radicals, though he periodcally flips through a stack of magazines and catalouges at his right.

Sometime in the night he apparently retrieved the duck, which quacks approval or disapproval when asked about a particular article of clothing.*

DEATH is in, bleed here please. Or talk. Or pet the ducky.

((OOC: I've set up three threads - Exam1, Lab, and Waitng. If you have your own room, please open a comment for that room, because I really don't know who is where at the moment.))
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH strolls into the clinic with a pile of official looking papers in his hands. He seems to be working on something. Periodically you notice what looks like a Victoria's Secret catalog at which DEATH scratches his head. Or skull.

His rubber duck seems to be absent.*

((OOC: DEATH!mun is heading to bed. Feel free to bleed all over the floor, but keep in mind that it will be played out in the late morning tomorrow.))
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH takes a seat at the desk, a huge pile of addressed letters behind him. There is a pen and paper, writing itself, next to him. DEATH himself is addressing an envelope.

There is a basket of political buttons on the desk, with a rubber duck on top of them.*

DEATH is in. He's like a doctor, only he can tell you truthfully that you're not going to die. So, come in, bleed on him, chat with him, engage him in riddle or play a joke on him. He's lonely. Or would be, if he had glands.
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Wilson wore an pensive expression as he moved around the Clinic opening it up for the day. He had quite a few things on his mind and was rolling them back and forth trying to come up on the right side of just how to approach the matters.

He'd checked on Jack, who seemed to maybe be feeling better today, Wilson was going to hope that this wasn't a lead on to another relapse and made a mental note to try to keep the young man quiet for at least another 24 hours.

The scent of coffee, the Jamacian Blue Mountain today, filled the small reception area and as he sat back down behind the desk, Wilson reviewed the To Do list. At least he'd managed to get some of the required rec forms submitted yesterday and could expect a shipment hopefully tomorrow. For the time being, he knew he should work on charts but his mind was a bit too distracted so instead he sat back behind the desk, feet up on the counter, cradling his coffee mug and staring off into space.

Doctor on Duty, come distract him from his ponderings...or weedle coffee out of him, either works.
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
House wandered in to the clinic, to check on Jack as he'd promised Wilson he would. He grabbed a red lolly from his stash in the desk before heading back to the exam room Jack had pretty much taken over.

He changed the IV bag and read over the notes Alanna and Lisa had made on his chart over the last 24 hours, added his own current notes, then headed out.

Dr not on duty, (he is on call) but on the premisis. Pester, at your own risk
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH is sitting at the clinic desk with a collection of art supplies. He appears to be making posters.

Periodically he shows his work to a rubber duck, who quacks softly. DEATH seems to be making revisions based on the duck's opinion.*

Clinic is open. Please bleed here.
[identity profile] threeweapons.livejournal.com
Alanna was hanging upsidedown off of the couch, keeping one eye on Jack and the other on the front door. She was also attempting to read at the same time.
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Wilson was running a little late opening the Clinic today. The previous night had not been a good one, as if the nightmares that had stayed at bay for the past couple of evenings had rallied for one long punishing attack.

He'd been close to begging House for a Vicodin, he hadn't, though it had been a near thing.

In the cool light of the autumn morning, Wilson had walked down to get his coffee, returning to the Clinic to start a pot of his own and open the place up. Lights were now on and the rich scent of a Sumatra blend was filling the air.

Walking over to the front desk, the oncologist looked down at the message slip that he'd done his best to ignore the prior day. He was going to have to return the call, there was nothing else for it.

Sitting down, he reached for the phone with one hand, while grabbing a chart with the other.

Doctor on Duty, come bleed at him or weedle coffee, whichever tickles your fancy.

Edit: As of about 5:00 FH time, DEATH would have control of the Clinic. So if you come in after then, you get Death! :D *Hugs and loves on Death*.
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH walks into the clinic, wearing what appears to be sunglasses despite the dim light and carrying a thermos of coffee which he sips occassionally. He sits at the desk, slouching slightly. The rubber duck is sitting on the desk next to him, impaled in the head with a jack. It quacks morosely periodically. He appears to be, if such were possible, hungover. However, the performance seems slightly theatrical at best. Rather than doing his usual paperwork, he bounces a rubber ball on the desk in what he hopes is an absent-minded fashion*

Assistant is IN. Please bleed here.

((OOC: Mun is bored and suffering from NaNo brain-bleed. Come play, even if you're not broken!))
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH strolls into the clinic, if a skeleton could stroll, being careful to move his hips so that the light reflected off the duct tape he was wearing. In addition to his new duct tape fetish, he is covered in political buttons, most pertaining to zombies or fashion. He also has his trust rubber duck, in hopes that, perhaps, today it will turn back into his note to exuse absense. It quacks instead.

Knowing that Lisa planned to bring by pizza for dinner, DEATH had done some quick research on what was typical of mortal dinner plans in this plane. Confident in his reasearch, DEATH ties a bowtie around his neck, lights several candles and ties some balloons, black of course, to the chair for good measure. The balloons, for some unknown reason, say, "Happy Aniversary", but DEATH seems pleased.

He also has paper plates, enough for both him and Lisa, the two patients in residence tonight and any others that may happen to come by. Taking a seat at the desk, he waits for the other assistant to arrive and begins working on organizing any paperwork he finds lying around.

The clinic is open, the assistant(s) are in, so, please, feel free to bleed and/or eat DEATH's pizza.*


*DEATH touches the bowtie uneasily while the rubber duck on the desk quacks reassurance.*
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH is sitting at the desk, working on what appears to be somewhat ethereal paperwork while waiting for patients. He is wrapped from head to toe in robes of duct tape and has a rubber duck on his shoulder. He seems to be humming off-key, the duck chiming in periodically.

He's not the doctor, but he's the best medecine for many.*
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Dawn had found Wilson still in the Clinic working in the lab. He’d started on Ten’s blood work immediately and after some thought had gone ahead and started with Paige’s and any other back log that was waiting as well.

He’d poked his nose into the apartment long enough to kiss House and tell the older doctor that he was going to be working through the night and then he’d gone back to the Clinic. It was rather convenient having the little apartment tucked just off in the back but it also made it harder for Wilson to stay away.

Not that he’d ever been any good at that back in Princeton either.

The oncologist had spent the night running the lab, reading up on the endoscopy procedure he had scheduled for Friday as well as current literature on gastric cancers and occasionally sticking his head in to check on Jack and on Ten. Upon discovering that Chaucer seemed settled in to stay the night Wilson cut back his intrusions to bi-hourly checks so as to disturb the two men as little as possible.

When the sky started to shift from grey to pink –around 6ish-, the oncologist took a break, going back to the apartment for a shower and a change of clothes before walking down to The Perk for coffee. The walk helped wake him up and shake off the cobwebs so that he was smiling and whistling softly as he set about opening up the Clinic for his regular Clinic hours.

Settling down at the front desk, he set a pot of Jamaican Blue Mountain to brew and reached for the telephone. He had calls to make and favors to call in to get the necessary permits and medical equipment here to treat Grissom.

“Good morning, can I talk to…”

Doctor on Duty, ask nicely and he might share the coffee.
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
The Clinic was opened, perhaps a little late as someone had been out stalking coffee from The Perk this morning.

That didn't mean he didn't have a pot of Kona brewing quietly behind him as he sat and worked thoughtfully on a clipboard in his lap.

Doctor on Duty
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Sundays were usually a good time for the week's paperwork to get done. For some reason the majority of people did not, as a rule, get hurt on Sundays.

Of course, who knew if this place was going to follow that particular rule, but the size of the apartment -or lack there of- made massive paperwork projects somewhat impossible, so that left the Clinic.

Really, he was going to have to start getting out more.

For the time being, however, he was puttering about in the front of the clinic, using the chairs in the waiting room to help him sort and work on filing. He had his little radio with him and the dulcet tones of some song he yoinked off the internet played throughout the front room of the Clinic, keeping him company for the time being.

[ooc: Lazy Sunday if anyone would like to poke or needs to bleed.]

Night Shift

Saturday, October 15th, 2005 08:58 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH is sitting at the clinic desk, waiting for patients. He has in front of him several teenage fashion magazines, a copy of Rules for Radicals, and several law journals. He periodically flips back and forth between them, twirling his scythe thoughtfully, while a pen, which he is not holding, scribbles now and again on a peice of parchment. Those that care to see will see, "Zombie Undead Vitality-Impaired Anti-Defamation and Fashion Style Alternative Appearences League" written in scrolling blue font at the top. He seems to outlining ideas in a painfully politically correct manner.*

A sign is posted on the desk, which reads:

[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH sits behind the desk, pouring over photos of DJ Echelon and a stack of other, related papers. He is obviously still looking for information on either the elusive DJ or his Fashion Advisor. He does so methodically and slowly, like someone who knows he has all the time in the world.*

(no subject)

Wednesday, October 5th, 2005 08:24 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH takes a seat at the clinic and, while continuing his usual fashion trend in his bid for Homecoming Queen, begins to adjust something that looks, suspiciouslly, like breasts. He holds up a mirror and examines his chest critically, waiting for patients to arrive.*

(no subject)

Monday, October 3rd, 2005 08:08 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH takes up his post at the clinic, bringing BInky in with him today, for company. He scratches the horse affectionately and then begins to braid condoms into its mane while he passes the time, waiting for patients. For those that cannot see DEATH, there is a cheery sense of dread in the area and a white horse, with condoms appearing in its mane.*


*Binky nuzzles DEATH, looking for treats*


(no subject)

Thursday, September 29th, 2005 08:23 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH takes a seat at the clinic desk, dressed in what appears to be sparkly tinsel robes. He has on matching make-up and wig. There is tinsel tied to the scythe leaning against the back wall. He passes the time reading through more teenage fashion magazines, waiting for patients to come in.*

(no subject)

Sunday, September 25th, 2005 11:45 am
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
It's Sunday morning, and Dr House has a headache. He considered staying in bed again, but...well, that's really not good for his leg. So, he's in the clinic. Looking like he needs to check in and be a patient himself.

(no subject)

Saturday, September 24th, 2005 12:57 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH, being rather unimpressed with the zombies since, after all, they're just regular people, only dead. Instead of fighting them off, he decides to work a shift at the clinic, figuring it will be a busy day, what with people needing undead related treatment and rescue. While he passes the time, he begins to experiment with makeup in anticipation of the upcoming Homecoming event.*

Clinic Memo

Thursday, September 22nd, 2005 12:33 am
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*posted on the Staff Bulletin Board*

To All Staff Members:

There is a plague sweeping the campus, likely of non-natural origins. Flyers have been posted and the student body instructed to report all ailments to the clinic, as well as those they suspect of being infected.

A treatment has been formulated and is in the cupboard in a bottle labeled "PLAGUE PILLS" and are administered by placing one under the tongue. There are few, if any, side effects of this treatment.

Symptoms of this plague are mild in the early stages and, as such, all students with generalized symptoms of illness or dementia for which a cause cannot be determined should be treated to prevent further spread. Please advise all students treated for this plague to report back to the clinic if symptoms do not improve within 24 hours.

DEATH is managing this situation and, as such, all questions should be directed to him. If he cannot be found, please ring his bell and he will contact you shortly.

Thank you.

[OOC: Any clinic staff who want to know what is going on with this, rather than just watching, please ring Death's bell and I'll explain OOC. Thanks.]

(no subject)

Wednesday, September 21st, 2005 05:52 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH sits at the front desk of the clinic, to answer the phone and greet patients. He seems particuarly cheery today, having learned to braid his condoms and wear them as acessories. He sets up a sign on the desk which reads:*

Plague Victims Sign In Here:

Please Ring Bell

Thursday, September 15th, 2005 09:35 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
Since the clinic seems to be dead at the moment, DEATH decides to head into town for a bit. However, not wanting to leave things unattended, he sets up a small bell on the desk with a small sign that reads:


(no subject)

Thursday, September 15th, 2005 08:47 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH walks into the clinic, sets his scythe against the wall and takes a seat the the desk, waiting for something to happen. For those who can see, he has not changed since dropping by the girl's slumber party and is still wearing a lacy see-through robe. He begins to twiddle his thumbs while he waits.*

(no subject)

Wednesday, September 14th, 2005 12:24 am
[identity profile] bluemanoncampus.livejournal.com
::After destroying most of his belongings and hurting himself while having a nightmare, Hank follows Dr. House into the clinic for treatment and an overnight stay.::

Thank you, sir. I appreciate your arising at such a late hour.

(no subject)

Tuesday, September 13th, 2005 01:05 am
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH, not needing any sleep, decides to man the clinic during the night. Continuing to experiment with being "innovative" and "fashionable", he begins to open several of the condom packets at the front desk, tying them to his scythe and and attaching them to his robe, while he waits for patients to come in.*


(no subject)

Monday, September 12th, 2005 07:54 pm
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
DEATH walks in, leans is scythe and takes up a seat at the front desk, noticing, to his disappointment, that everyone in residence seems to have already been seen to. Maybe someone else, preferably mortally wounded, will walk in later.

(Ooc: For those that don't already know, not everyone can see DEATH. If you can't see things of a magical/paranormal nature, or aren't in so much pain/disoriented that a seven-foot tall skeleton doesn't blend in perfectly with reality at the moment, you just feel a creepy presence and an odd sensation that someone is in the room)
[identity profile] lisacuddy.livejournal.com
Considering that several students have asked for condoms on her first day of clinic duty, Lisa decides to put up a bulletin board outside on the clinic wall.

Dr. Luv Gluv Says Use a Rubber! )

She finishes stapling several take-away brochures to the bottom, and makes sure that the bulletin board lets the students (and teachers, *cough*) know that they can always speak to any of the clinic staff confidentially with any medical issues or questions. She fans out a few condoms on a small table in front of the board.

Can someone cast a spell on these condoms so that they regenerate on their own? )

Satisfied, she turns back into the clinic, and glances out the window occasionally to see if anyone stops by.

Fandom High RPG

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