all the queen's doctors

[armistyx]

Date & Time: Backdated to late evening, 2/12, after the events of this log
Location: Unit 204
Characters: Bariyan e Kodhi (stonefaith ), John Watson (assist ), Problem Sleuth (armistyx )
Summary: Two drunken idiots need to be, quite literally, put back together.
Warnings: None so far.

It's a long walk back to the apartments, and Bariyan won't stop giggling. Sleuth still feels sick as hell; at this point, it's probably just the gin in his gut, but all the same he wants another drink. There's a stab of annoyance (no, bad phrase) that Bariyan kept his flask. And then a much larger stab of guilt.

Christ. He hopes they can put the arm back on. He'll feel like a real cock if they can't. This sure as hell won't make him look like a team player, either, cutting off a guy's arm his third night here. Sleuth rubs an eye with the butt of his palm and leaves another smear of blood on his brow; his hand's done bleeding, mostly, but he can't stop fidgeting.

Neither he nor Bariyan knows which room the doctor's in, so Sleuth hits up that robot kid in 203. He's half asleep, and he's got no idea.

"Damn," Sleuth says once the door's closed. He gives Bariyan an apologetic look. "Let's just canvass the hall."

He's not carrying the arm, so Sleuth figures he's in charge of knocking. It's damn late; he won't be making any friends tonight. He raises his hand and knocks hard on door 204.
 

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[armistyx]

Sleuth finds himself pulled forward over the back of the couch; he gives the hand clutching his cuff a long, morose look before extricating himself and leaving one hand on Bariyan's shoulder, half assuring and half self-stabilizing. "Okay," he says. "Yeah, okay." He considers clarifying: I lay no claim to that arm, autograph or not, but figures it's unnecessary. It's already getting reattached, anyway. Instead, he slinks back around to the other side of the couch and sits down again beside the one-armed man.

Sleuth leans forward while the doctor talks to try and catch sight of what's going on. He glances sideways at Bariyan and raises one eyebrow, making a look that says "do you know what the hell's happening?" He never had cause to see a doctor for more than setting bones; truth be told, Sleuth didn't know you could reattach arms. Best he was hoping for was a sort of...pirate peg.

"Yeah, yeah, you got it, doc." He pats himself down, searching his pockets for anything entertaining, keeping one eye on the surgical action. Oh--well, there's a deck of cards, if nothing else. Sleuth tosses it onto the couch in between them.