OPEN LOG

[wilder]

Date & Time: September 1 - 3, Evening or Night hours
Location: Transport Clinic
Characters: Zelos/Kaneis and you!
Summary: Evening/Night shift at the clinic. All welcomed, whether they be checking out the clinic, working at the clinic or that unfortunate dude who put their weapon in a very wrong spot.
Warnings: PG-13 for language and possible gore since hey IT IS A CLINIC.

[No matter how strange Zelos's life get, he can always count on his clinic shifts being one of two things: incredibly boring or incredibly strange. There was no middle ground.]

[Any night that you come in, you'll probably find Zelos sitting at the reception desk, with his feet on top if none of his bosses are around. If he's not attending to any patients or talking to staff, he seems to be reading- looks like the flavor of this month for literature is fantasy. And sometimes, he even seems to be talking to the book]

Oh come on Buttercup my beautiful flower, there's no way he'll actually release him. Jeez...

[And so on. Rest assured guys, this is a professional medic here. You can tell by the lab coat. ]

Comments

[of_the_lake]

[Lancelot didn't bat a lash at the term itself, but the word 'actually' seemed to indicate that maybe he didn't consider it a synonym for what the older man intended on hearing.]

If you'll explain.

[wilder]

[He meanwhile just gives a single glance up]

It means I use magic.

[Annnd back to work he goes]

[of_the_lake]

[At that, Lancelot's hostility returned--this time it was definitely directed right at Zelos.]

If that's the case, then I request a physician.

[wilder]

[He'll look up]

Are you her husband, parent or legal guardian?

[of_the_lake]

She would bear nothing but shame with the first two possibilities. I may be considered the latter as her life is my responsibility.

[wilder]

Really? Do you have legal documentation stating as such?

[of_the_lake]

[Lancelot reached down, lifting Flora's left arm to emphasize the badass tattoo of his namesymbol and command seal on her.]

[wilder]

[he raises an eyebrow]

Sorry, I'm afraid a tattoo doesn't count.

I can promise she'll be in very good care, but I'm not wasting precious time to call in a non-magical doctor because you get the hebejebes over magic.

[of_the_lake]

I understand the nature of magic intimately. Such is the reason why I will not permit it to touch my Master without confirmation of its effectiveness.

[At that, Lancelot began to scoop up Flora once more.]

If you will not send me a true practitioner, I will find one.

[wilder]

What-

Are you kidding?! She uses magic herself! She knows I have it and never made a fuss about it before!

Considering you're the one who put her in this state, I think you should shut up and let me do my job.

[of_the_lake]

I have working knowledge of her limitations and the extent of her magic. I have no knowledge of yours. Magicians are mere snake-oil salesmen until their wares are proven and I won't have my Master be a mere example for you to potentially botch.

This injury is paltry in comparison to the hollow promise of a sorcerer with no true credentials.

[wilder]

You want credentials? Fine. I've been an employee at the clinic for seven months. Do you really think they'd keep me on the staff if I was a fraud?

[of_the_lake]

Of course. You may simply be proficient enough in memory erasure and hypnosis to pass.

Now, will you move aside or will I be forced to dispatch you?

[wilder]

[W o w that was a pissy remark there Lance. Zelos gives a little glare before a scoff and stepping aside. He's worried about Flora, for sure, but...honestly, he does value his own life above hers.]

There's a hospital run by the Initiative on the other side of the Hold. If you trust the Initiative and don't mind a longer wait, they'll take her.

But if she dies or suffers brain damage before you get there? It's all on you, pal.

Now get out.

[of_the_lake]

Your concern for your own ego is disturbing. Gain a proper license or leave these matters to professionals, boy.

[Lancelot raised Flora up and left with her, apathetic. He left with her peacefully enough, less concerned for the argument.]

[wilder]

[And he doesn't rise to the bait and let him go. Whatever asshole, you threatened him and he'd totally have a proper license if they didn't lock up magical people in his world!!]

[showmeyourwreath]

[AND THEN ABOUT THREE MINUTES LATER Flora comes back in, walking very stiffly and carefully.

She's not trying not to limp, shhh.]

Ka--ow. [She raises a hand to her as if to touch her swelling cheek, but stops short of actually doing it, because, yeah, that's not going to help. Talking bad. Talking hurts her face. And man does she ever have a headache.]

[wilder]

[Zelos was just about getting back into his book when Flora comes in. Well well, this is a surprise]

Flora? What are you doing here?

[showmeyourwreath]

[It hurts, but hey, she's suffered a lot worse things. A lot worse. She can deal with a broken face! It ain't no thang.

Okay, maybe it is a tiny bit of a thang. She winces, but doesn't let that stop her.]

I wanted to say I'm sorry.

[wilder]

Say you're sorry?

Uh...shouldn't you be treated first? What happened to the other hospital?

[showmeyourwreath]

Yes. [Stop making sense like that, Kaneis!! Her lips start to curve into an awkward smile, then she winces because ow, that hurts too. Expressions are hard.

She speaks slowly, carefully, each word deliberate out of necessity.]

I wanted to come here. [Lancelot would have to deal with it.] But I can...page someone else if that isn't okay.

[wilder]

Well...I don't mind healing you.

I mean, so long as your little friend doesn't kill me for it.

[showmeyourwreath]

[She blinks in confusion before it hits her like a wooden sword across the--oh wait.] He didn't. [A beat, a short sigh.] He did.

[She looks like she wants to say a bunch of different things, but she decides to settle for what's most important, for the moment.]

He won't. [She says seriously, and not without a measure of guilt.] I promise.

[wilder]

Yes. Yes he did.

[VERY RUDE ABOUT IT TOO.]

But alright. Come over here so I can heal you.

[showmeyourwreath]

[A slow, careful, pained sigh.]

...Sorry.

[AND THE MOST UNSURPRISED, APOLOGETIC FACE. HE'S VERY RUDE, EVEN TO HER, SOMETIMES. OFTEN. KIND OF A LOT.

Flora follows dutifully, head hanging a little lowly. She'll apologise again when her face no longer feels she took a sledgehammer to it.]