Clinic Evening Hours

[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:

FREE DANCE LESSONS. GOOD FOR THE SOUL.
(TRUST ME, I WOULD KNOW.)

The Clinic is Now Closed. The doctors are likely on call, but DEATH has left the building.

Comments

[death-n-binky.livejournal.com]

*DEATH strokes the cat gently, with the air of someone who is very familar with cats.*

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Faithful purred and jumped the full way out of the bag. Alanna glanced around and squinted. "Hello?" Her eyes fell on DEATH, or at least the spot where DEATH was, and she gulped.

((ooc: S'all right. Kitty happy either way. Alanna has a weird thing with death, she met her world's god of death a few years before so...yeah, weird.))

[death-n-binky.livejournal.com]

*DEATH picks the kitty up, stroking him gently and scratching under his chin.*



*DEATH, holding the cat securely in one arm, does a jazz hand with the free one, forgetting that many people cannot see him.*

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna stared at DEATH, feeling a certain desire to flee, far, far, away. "Um, yeah, working. Helping people, live, not that, um, yeah working."

[death-n-binky.livejournal.com]

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna stuttered a bit and sat down.

[death-n-binky.livejournal.com]

*DEATH hands Faithful back to Alanna, taking a seat next to her. He places a bony hand on her shoulder, radiating a sense of mortality that, for some reason, might be percieved as calming in its cool efficiency. He has been in The Profession for years, and, while not having the glands required for empathy, he has become quite efficient at listening.*

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna absentmindedly petted Faithful. "I'm...I'm sorry." She shifted a bit away from DEATH. "I think I met someone much like you not too long ago. Makes me a bit jumpy."

[death-n-binky.livejournal.com]

*DEATH removes a small hourglass from his robe and checks it breifly*

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna stutters something and nearly runs out of the clinic. Faithful looked at her retreating figure and shook his head. "Silly girl."