fandom_clinic | Fandom Clinic, Tuesday

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will halstead

Fandom Clinic, Tuesday

Well, on the bright side, at least Will could actually enter the clinic today. There was no apple-created force field keeping him away.

On the less bright side, as soon as he stepped through the door he was very nearly beaned in the head with a small plastic replica of the Eiffel tower. And was that... music from a well-known musical set in 19th century France? Where was it even coming from?

Will stared at Stabby's tank, which was piled up to one side with-

"It's a barricade," explained one of the nurses.

"What for? He's already in a tank. There's walls." And where did he get that many tiny chairs, anyway?

The nurse just shrugged. The clinic was open, and singing the song of angry crabs.

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Where there was currently a one-crab rebellion.

Accompanied by the sound of ~~hoofbeats~~ coconuts which stopped at the door, Brave Sir Robin entered the clinic a "Hail, good sir! Have you any news of the Grail?"

... Why was this his life.

"Grail?" he echoed, staring at ~~Brave Sir Robin~~ the teenage girl who'd suddenly appeared in the doorway to the sound of coconuts. "As in, Holy Grail? That Grail?"

"Indeed, the very one! Have you news of its whereabouts? I am on a Quest!"

"I'm afraid I don't, but you might want to-"

A tiny chair went sailing out Stabby's tank and directly towards Brave Sir Robin.

"... look out."

"Oh ho!" Brave Sir Robin called out bravely. "An enemy! One of the fierce and murderous denizens of this fair isle that my king warned me of!"

Brave Sir Robin was just going to take a step or two backwards to get out of the splash/chair zone.

"I will not be driven off, fiend! My quest is for the Holy Grail and none shall stand in my way!"

Not if Stabby had anything to say about it!

And saying something he was indeed. What a tiny table being flung through the air was saying exactly was anyones guess though.

No crabs nor rebellions here!

Probably a patient who can empathize with Stabby on some level, though.

Arthur was definitely ready to stage a revolution!

Less with the barricades, though. But still about freedom!

Will grabbed Arthur's chart and then headed over to the exam room, cracking the door slightly to see if the patient was awake.

The patient was definitely awake. The patient had been awake, and the patient was salty.

"Doctor?" he asked hopefully.

"That's me," Will confirmed cheerfully. "I'm really sorry about last week," he added apologetically. "That's the thing about this place- it's going to throw you some really, really weird curveballs from time to time."

"I'm still not entirely sure what happened," Arthur said. "But I've been up and about for days now," whether the nurses appreciated it or not, "so is there any reason I can't leave?" If his leg wasn't going to need traction, he would just as soon be on the move.

"I don't see why not," Will said. "I did want to make sure that leg was well on its way to healing before sending you off- crutches can be hard to operate to begin with, and add in trying to so in a place that's 95% stairs like this one? Ooof," Will shook his head.

"I've also written you a prescription for ~~some handwavey meds~~," Will said. "And, of course- do you have a place to stay?" Some people came here with arrangements already made, but it sounded like Arthur wasn't one of those. "There's a hotel." Which was astonishingly cheap for how nice a hotel it was.

It would have to be beyond cheap to make sense to Arthur; inflation was a bitch.

"The hotel sounds good."

"Hopefully with fewer cultists and giant spiders than the last one," John added.

He didn't really think he needed the medication, and the stairs thing was clearly an exaggeration, but he could handle that on his own.

"If I could just get the crutches and directions, I'd appreciate it."

Yeah, there was at least one other detective on the island who could relate. Who would also, if he were there, suggest Arthur stop by the bank, first, as any currency he had would be exchanged there for an amount accounting for inflation.

Will gestured for one of the nurses to go fetch some crutches as well as the prescriptions.

"Hang a right down Apocalypse, another right on Griffin, and then a left on Thunderbird. Can't miss it."

"Right on Apocalypse, right on Griffin, left on Thunderbird. Got it."

"Who names a street 'Apocalypse'?"

"Who names a street 'Apocalypse', anyway?"

"Hell if I know," Will said with a shrug. "Long before my time."

"Of course. Right. So, what do I have to do to get out of here, Doctor?"

Because if it was too unreasonable, he might just make a break for it.

"Sign this," he handed over a clipboard with a release form, "and you're good to go."

As if on cue, the nurse came back with the crutches and a small bag with an assortment of prescription medications.

"He's holding a clipboard in front of you to your right."

Arthur reached for it, brushed his fingers against the corner, then caught it and brought it closer.

"It reads that anything that happens to us after we leave here is not their fault. If your leg gets more painful or swells, we should come back for them to look at it. Hm. It's mostly boring, honestly, nothing of real importance." John flipped the page over. "Oh. There are instructions about the medications they're giving us, things we can't do with the cast on. There's a lot here."

"The rest can wait, unless I'm required to read it before signing," Arthur decided. He nudged the clipboard against his left hand, and John let go of the papers and grabbed it so Arthur could find the... Well, he assumed it was a pen, even if it felt a bit odd.

"The line to sign on is at the bottom of the page, on the right. Further up. There." Arthur signed his name. "Hm. Well, good enough, I suppose."

Yeah, Will's assessment was about the same. He was just going to put the slight off-kilter-ness (absolutely a word) of that signature down to impatience.

"All right, then. It's official, you're a free man."

"Thank god." Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. He started working his leg off the side of the bed so he could stand as soon as he had the crutches.

Chances were good he might sideswipe Will if he didn't move. Sorry about that.

This is

stykera's fault.

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Fandom Clinic, Tuesday

The Front Desk

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Exam Rooms

Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

Re: Exam One - Arthur Lester

OOC