audio | un: sparkler

[flashystyle]

[Amid the sounds of the Institute break room comes the noise of a crisp bagel being buttered, followed by a particularly bored drawl. With little elaboration to where this is coming from, a clearly very hard at work Dorian simply asks:]

Three points per round, and the first to three rounds wins. Foul for rhetoric, repetition, synonyms, and statements. No non sequiturs. Now, is anyone up for a game of questions?

Comments

[enarms]

[ — a notable pause... and nope, he's stuck. he's going down, but at least he's going down with a question, even if it is about to hand Dorian a point. ]

How do I come back from that?

[flashystyle]

Hesitation and rhetorical... Only one point to me, because I'm so gracious.

[At least he didn't say he was humble.]

Why are you a doctor there if there are so few patients?

[enarms]

Would you leave a job with a great wage and your own office because you weren't constantly busy?

[flashystyle]

How big is the office?

[enarms]

Shall I show you?

[flashystyle]

Yes. Point to Dr. Watson, for being so very interesting.

> video!

[enarms]

We on pause, or still playing?

[ asks Dr. Watson, as he open up a video feed. front cam's the default, so have a slightly odd angle of him and a supply cabinet over his shoulder and not a lot else ]

video

[flashystyle]

As easy a win it would be for me if we weren't, we'll pause it for now.

[Dorian's, in turn, is a view of him peeking over his phone before he actually picks it up. Hey.]

I must say, I love what you've done with the place. Do I have to look at anything other than the handsome man?

video

[enarms]

Oh, nice. Insulting my intelligence one second and a compliment the next.

[ oop - looks like he's worked out how to flip the camera, and the view is now of the bulk of his office. it's a relatively recent conversion so it's a bit of a mishmash of styles: the colder look of medical equipment and storage combined with the finery and comfort of the establishment in which it sits, all dark wood and oxblood leather and brass, bits of furniture taken from here, there and everywhere to pad it out. a plush looking chair sits the other side of his barely-seen desk in the foreground and beyond that, past a collection of various cabinets and bookshelves and a low coffee table stationed in front of a leather sofa pushed up against one wall, the actual examination table, amongst a collection of other equipment.

truth be told, he doesn't need very much in here: most of what he gets in is minor injuries or checking for a concussion. there's still an IV stand tucked in the corner, and the number of medical cabinets in the mid-sized room suggest he's kept very well stocked. ]

There you go. It's not huge, but it's not bad.

[flashystyle]

I'm fairly certain that's what the courtesans say.

[Though despite his teasing, Dorian does pay attention. He makes no attempt to mask the fact he's pleasantly surprised by the furnishings, and leans forward until he remembers him moving doesn't actually change the perspective. Hm.]

I'll admit, I expected it to be more austere... though, I don't think I could name half the tools you have there. Would you tell me, if I came over?

[enarms]

You don't want a lesson in the names of medical equipment, Dorian, Christ.

[ not a no, but likely to be the most boring visit to a brothel in the history of brothel visits. ]

[flashystyle]

You clearly don't know me at all. I'm all for... academic research. Clearly that's why I work here.

[He's having a hard time not laughing at that, but leave him be. He's already getting up.]

I'm coming over.

[enarms]

[ well, this talk has gone from strength to strength. ]

Seriously? You're at work.

[ but there's a laugh in his voice, and John's certainly not got anything better to do. ]

[flashystyle]

And I'll take some books with me. You'd be surprised how someone who just catalogs things can get away with... Oh, I'm going to record the behavior of John Watson, mysterious creature and criminal mastermind.

[He throws him a wink, then turns the video feed off.]

If they have grapes there, you should grab them for me. I won't be long.

[enarms]

Oh, right, I'm your in-house waiter now, am I?

[ alright, Dorian. bloody hell. though: ]

Red or green?

[flashystyle]

Red, please and thank you. I'll be coming straight to your office.

[Dorian does not in fact go straight to John's office. There are a number of distractions that he gets caught up in admiring, both architectural and anatomical, so he focuses maybe five minutes after he's walked through the door. After he's talked his way into a bottle of wine. He's a gem.]

I found the other grapes.

[enarms]

[ John's sat at his desk, the one part of the room not already shown and much in the same style of the rest of it, scribbling something down in a notebook when Dorian finally makes his appearance with—

aha. a bit of a smile, but: ]

You might be shirking off but some of us are still on duty. [ John taps the bowl with an assortment of grapes in it. ] I'm on these. Get the door, will you?

[flashystyle]

It isn't the first time I've tried to wait out the end of your shift. I'm a patient man.

[He waves the bottle suggestively, but shutting the door behind him and stops to get a proper look of the office. A proper look constitutes a swig of wine beforehand, apparently, and also moving to go touch the IV stand. But at least he's not interrupting his writing.]

Are you really not going to bother telling me what all this is for?

[enarms]

[ well, that's good of him. gives John time to interrupt his own writing, what with having a better option for time occupation now. there's a scoff of a laugh, vague indignation mixed with humour at Dorian's persistence. ]

I can do, if you're that interested.

[ if the man wants to learn, who's John to deny him? ]

[flashystyle]

I'm very interested.

[He tilts the stand like one would to hold a microphone, looking over it at John with an expectant grin. He already knows at attempt at work is doomed, and he's loving it.]

What do you hang on this?

[enarms]

[ oh God, what are you doing with that? John gives him a glance over, followed very quickly by a look that says are you absolutely positive that’s the first drink you’ve had tonight? listen, Dorian. you may have won this round efficiently and without any attempt from John to face off against the inevitable, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to make the next one easy for you. ]

IV bags.

[ and this round shall be fought by being a pedantic, unhelpful bastard. you asked, he answered. there’s a bit of an answering smirk there, too. ]

[flashystyle]

[Dorian makes a face, like he knows exactly what that look says, but it's coming from a man whose definition of fun is sitting there writing away whatever he's writing. Please.]

You know, if you carry on that slowly, I might just have to assume you're a terrible doctor that doesn't actually know.

[enarms]

[ and he'll laugh at that - a quick, silent bark. he watches Dorian for a second, eyebrow raised, making a choice between throwing back a snarky retort or being however briefly obliging...

well. he did come all the way here. ]

It's for administering liquids intravenously. You hook up a bag of medicine, fluids, blood if it's for a transfusion, insert a catheter into the patient and let gravity do the work.

[ and fingers crossed he came to be Really, Really Bored ]

yes i tagged you this late just to ask this question

[flashystyle]

Excellent, excellent... all fascinating. And what's a catheter?

[Oh, it's asked so genuinely. He has no idea, John.]

Vital (HEADS UP needle in the link)

[enarms]

[ a beat. a momentary dead-eyed stare. then he's shaking his head, small exasperated smile very much in place, and stepping out from behind his desk to cross the room and poke around in one of the cabinets.

he produces this, holds it up on display and turns to show it to Dorian. ]

One of these.

[ after a second thought, he uncaps it. releases the needle from its little plastic prison. careful, buddy, he's now officially armed. ]

Tada.