fandom_clinic | FTEC, Saturday Evening shift

Entry tags:

FTEC, Saturday Evening shift

Igor trundled into the clinic, a bag of noses over his shoulder. Already their kicks were starting to slow. "Ah well, they were never made to last," he muttered as he settled in for his shift.

Scraps barked in agreement and started sniffing his away around the clinic. Noses had been here, and he could smell them.

[ooc: And any noses still out in the world will stop moving by nightfall!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All of the noses had stopped moving, turning into inert lumps, and Igor was...let's say tinkering with one, for want of a better word.

On a delayed exit from the clinic that involved a bit of...oh, she'll just call it top secret research, Adah limped by and noticed that the lump of a man who started taking the shift after hers seemed already busy a work. She paused, head tilted, at the...tinkering.

"I've got notes from my own dissections," she offered, with a jerk of her head toward the lump's work, "if you're interested." She did this, though, a bit reluctantly. She still wasn't sure how she felt about no longer being the clinic's most deformed staff member any more. Gnig nahc'a erew yeht, semit eht.

Igor looked up. "That would be very helpful, I'm sure. They weren't supposed to multiply. I suspect it's some property of the captive lightning that caused it."

Adah gave another slight jerk of a nod before limping over, setting her bag on a corner of the desk so that she could shift through it easier for the correct notebook. "So they're your experiments," she commented dryly. "You'll have to forgive the various conclusions you'll find amongst me research that disregards the entire attempt as entirely silly."

"Already forgiven." The little leg on the nose jerked, and he frowned at it. "The noses aren't at all useful, it's true. The idea, though..." He grinned. "Spare parts that can bring themselves where they're needed very well could be."

Adah's search for her notebook was halted a bit as she stared at the twitching leg. "But how would they know where to go? It's not like there's a lot of intelligent brain matter in nose cartilage and to-scale leg muscles...Or is that precisely the conclusion drawn from today's experiment?"

"Imprinting," he replied, sitting up as straight as his hunch would allow. "You imprint them on the Igor when they're grown, they follow to where they're needed, stop moving when you remove the legs, and then you can sew them on, neat as you please." He chuckled. "You'd still need an Igor to attach them, no matter how well they can travel."

Adah wasn't quite sure she exactly followed, and she eyed the lump for a moment. Then again, none of her dissections had really solved much, either. For her, each careful slice of the scalpel only seemed to open a veritable vein of flowing questions, gushing out like a wound in bad need of a suture. "What do you mean?" she asked. "The Igor, an Igor...?"

"I'm Igor, an Igor of the clan Igor, and we specialise in reattaching, or attaching, if the original can't be found. There's nothing we can't fix. A hand to anyone who needs it, we say." He held up his hands, two thumbs on one and extra fingers on both. The scars around his wrists were very obvious. "These were my grandfather's, left to me when he died. I also have one of his kidneys. When I die, they'll go to someone else. By clan tradition, Igors collect what's no longer needed and attach it where it is, but I want to do more. I want to grow the parts we need."

And here all she got from her parents was an overinflated sense of pride. Adah quirked another eyebrow. The whole concept seemed entirely fantastical, and, consider where she was, there was a good chance that that was the case, but she couldn't help being intrigued. Not too far removed from the things she'd been reading about breeding organs, things well beyond the level of what she'd be studying at Emory, but things that she might be able to use to get recognized at Emory. "I take it," she hypothesized, "that the purpose of growing new parts has something to do with the fact that bodies, like most anything, wear down?"

"Partly that, and partly because you can't always count on having a spare leg if someone slices theirs off, a spare liver if someones is perforated." He leaned back a little in his chair, voice growing more enthusiastic at having someone to talk to about this. The majority of Igors dismissed his ideas out of hand. "Imagine, if repairing someone was as simple as going to the shelves and selecting the right part."

Adah blinked at the lump slightly. "That runs the risk," she stated, "of taking all the fun out of it."

It did have her wondering, though. If given half the chance for half a brain, would she take it?

"How so?" he asked, obviously puzzled.

"I like a bit more of a challenge when fixing something," Adah explained with a shrug of her good shoulder. "That's why I'm into viruses. They're complex little bastards, always throwing you through a loop just when you think you've got them pegged."

"Ah, I see!" Igor said, nodding. "Surgery would seem simple next to those."

"And simple," quoth Adah, "is often boring. Suggests comfort, and too much comfort can yield danger."

"I generally find ways of relieving the boredom, but no Igor likes to lose a client simply through a lack of the right part." He cocked his head. "Not to mention, if Igors no longer have to spend their time scouring the countryside for those parts, think how much time they'd have to dedicate to things less simple."

"If not scouring the countryside," Adah felt the need to ask, with a slight smirk surfacing, "then what?"

"Then anything," he replied with a grin. "Anything and everything."

Adah's response to that was a slightly thoughtful sort of look, head quirked only partially on purpose, and then she slid her notebook out of her bag finally, handing it over. She slung the bag over her shoulder again, leaning on the desk a little for support as she asked one last question, unable to really leave without at least bringing it up. "Any of you Igors ever work in brains, by chance?"

"Oh, yes. My uncle was a great one for them. And there's an Igor in Ankh-Morpork who can change someone's mind. Suck the personality right out and replace it with someone else's! It's excellent for mad people." Whether creating them or curing them, Igor wasn't going to say.

That did bring up the excellent point that Adah had enough trouble dealing with just herself in her head head; she'd hate to imagine what it would be like with half of someone else. She gave a slight jerk of her head toward the notebook. "Some of it's backwards, and some of it's in French, if you're wondering why it might not make sense. But it's all very thorough and extensive."

Igor slid it towards him. "This is wonderful," he said, leafing through it. "I don't know French, but this is still fascinating. Very thorough."

"Copy whatever you'd like; just leave it here when you're done tonight and I'll get it during my next shift tomorrow."

"I'll leave it here for you, safe and sound." Igor was a little distracted as he kept looking through the notebook. "Fascinating."

Gladys tromped into the clinic, a handful of mostly inert noses held out in front of her. "Are You The One Who Made the Runny Noses?"

Igor was surprised to see a golem here. He was even more surprised to see one wearing a dress. "Yeth," he replied, slipping back into the lisp. "Why are you wearing a dreth? You're a golem, aren't you?"

"Because I Am A Girl And A Girl Should Wear A Dress." With no fanfare and no preliminaries, she groaned, and threw her handful of noses at Igor. Jamie had said it was the correct response (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomhighdorms/1385185.html?thread=114459873#t114459873) in these circumstances.

Then she turned and tromped out.

Edited 2008-05-25 02:41 (UTC)

No noses in here!

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO WAS NOSY TODAY!!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

FTEC, Saturday Evening shift

Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Re: Front Desk

Exam room one

OOC