fandom_clinic | Fandom Clinic; Thursday [03/17].

Apparently, Libby had really gone about it all wrong earlier that week by going to Dr. Halstead about the whole my-roommate-turned-into-a-kitten thing, and, really, now that it was there, it made so much more sense to ask some of the nurses at the clinic that had been here much longer than either of them had been. They'd even laughed a little (not unkindly! Or, at least, she really didn't think so) when she posed the question to them if they had any experience with this sort of thing.

And then she was presented with a file.

File seemed to be a loose term, since this thing was thicker even than a family Bible.

It wasn't comprehensive, they told her, because most people were so used to it or accepting of it that they didn't bother reporting it or even stressing about it, but there'd been enough ~~totally handwavey omg~~ incidents in the past of someone coming into the clinic with animal-transformation problems that they had catalogued it over the years. And they assured her that there really wasn't much she could do about it except ride it out and keep the transformed person out of trouble if she could, and maybe make sure they've got a change of clothes on hand at all times because they'd be needed them when they turned back.

And Libby was just absolutely fascinated, reading through some of the odd creatures people could turn into. Cats were pretty popular, it seemed, as well as dogs, but there was an aardvark in here, a few birds, and some creatures that Libby would have thought were entirely made-up or something that clearly got left off the Ark if she'd read about them a few months ago!

The Clinic is open!

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Will~~'s player~~ actually would have gotten around to digging out a file on animal transformations the other day, had the gremlin in the exam room not... been a gremlin in the exam room.

Anyway. Will had been halfway through his boring standard-for-the-next-few-weeks coffee order at the Perk until he'd remembered what day it was. Hence why he was making his way into the clinic with a vanilla latte for himself, a hot chocolate for Libby, and various handwavey beverages of choice for the nursing staff on duty.

"Morning," he greeted Libby as he started unpacking the tray full of drinks. "Everything okay so far?"

"Good morning, Dr. Halstead," Libby greeted back with a smile and a nod. "There seems to be a minor pinching epidemic going on today, but nothing too serious, I don't think. How has your day been?"

“Better once I remembered it’s St. Patrick’s Day and I can take a break from abstaining,” he told her, holding up his coffee. And then, after a beat: “From sugary things like sweetened coffee.” He wasn’t out here drinking Irish coffee at handwavey-o’clock in the morning, at work, around a teenager.

Libby's head tilted, a small furrow of confusion on her brow. She knew a little bit about how Lent was a much bigger deal for more worldly faiths (abstaining from vices didn't really shake the boat a whole lot when there weren't any vices enjoyed to abstain from and you pretty much already lived a life of scarcity and few indulgences), but she knew saints were almost strictly Catholic idolatry. So she had a moment of contending with her natural curiousity against being better off not even asking.

These days, though, the curiousity almost always won.

"Who's St. Patrick?"

“Who’s-“ Will started to echo, because he was so used to people at least being familiar with the pop-culture version of the holiday and it’s associated saint. “Saint Patrick is, uh,” he then proceeded to give an rundown that totally wasn’t cribbed from wikipedia or anything what do you mnean.

That was the beauty in being shielded your entire life from most pop culture; even the most ubiquitous things were shiny and new, although the more Will explained, the more some of it sounded a bit more familiar. After all, sometimes a few things leaked through, just without much of a broader context.

And, either way you looked at it, she loved a good story. And, veneration of the saint aside, it even seemed like it was godly enough to be deemed somewhat of an acceptable one, too.

"Well, that's nice," she concluded, "that his day includes getting to take a break."

Which seemed to kind of defeat the purpose of the fast in general, if you asked her, but she wasn't about to say so.

Partially out of respect, partially out of just plain habitual indoctrination not to question authority figures.

"I'm trying not to think too much about how it really kind of defeats the whole purpose," Will said, echoing Libby's narrative a bit there.

Fandom Clinic; Thursday [03/17].

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