Preoccupations

[rpondicus]

WHO Rory Williams and you.
WHAT Open Post
WHERE The Hostel (Particularly the Clinic and the 6th floor), around town, the library, and the hospital. Or anywhere in between.
WHEN Tuesday-Saturday
NOTES Put where and/or when you're running into him in your header, s'il vous plait.
WARNINGS None yet?

It wasn't right, being stuck here. It wasn't right,

Comments

Friday!

[polarisation]

Sefton hadn't been paying much attention leaving the office. It wasn't a normal occurrence, but with the full moon only a day away, his concentration was shot as he tried to keep himself otherwise in check. Too bad he couldn't account for the pencil that had rolled from the front desk to the doorway thanks to some playful guard dogs earlier in the day.

With something of a flail, he pitched forward, expecting to be able to grab onto the clinic door for support before he smacked into it. Not that it would hurt too badly (he was repelling right now, meaning he would simply transfer half of his own force onto the inanimate object - sure, it might rattle the door pretty badly, but it wouldn't hurt him), it was just the principle of the thing.

[rpondicus]

But Rory, equally distracted by the list of missing supplies in his hand, wasn't watching either, and it was his body in Sefton's way, not the door. Reflexively, before he even realized what was happening, he dropped the list to grab the boy, only to wind up shoved backwards, stumbling back through the open door with a startled yelp, and tripping over his own feet to fall on the clinic floor.

[polarisation]

Despite Rory's yelp, it didn't quite register that Sefton had knocked into a person rather than a thing. That release of energy, the way he rebounded and crashed to the ground - it was all telling of an object, his mind defaulting to that over any other sensory input. He, too, found himself on the floor aside Rory's legs, propped up on one elbow while he rubbed a little at his shoulder.

"Ow... what'd I even-?" He looked back toward the office door, trying to find the offending object... but instead saw a pair of feet as his eyes moved. What? What?

His gaze darted back to Rory, eyes incredibly wide, almost in horror. Oh no.

[rpondicus]

Rory caught up his list, pushing himself back to his feet, and reached down for Lowell's hand.

"Sorry! I didn't see you. Or hear you. You a'right?"

[mae_shirayuki]

Rukia found herself restless these past few weeks. With the passing of the Ghost Arakora, things had died down considerably and the city seemed like it might actually let them enjoy a bit of peace. Of course, this was peace as the City of Sin gauged it, so there was always at least some minor evil haunting the mortal populace or menacing the supernatural ones

[rpondicus]

"Ah..." He stared dumbly at her for a few beats, pulling his mind out of the trance of research. The book in his hand was Museum Studies: An Anthropology of Contexts, and likely accounted for his blank expression. It was mind-numbingly dull.

"Oh! Ah, coffee, sorry. I shouldn't have it in here, should I?"

[mae_shirayuki]

Coffee. Rukia had tried the beverage before, but it was simply too bitter for her tastes. Even doctored with sugar and cream and all manner of flavoring, it just didn't sit on her tongue quite right. Or maybe she was just spoiled by her roommate's jasmine and mint tea blend.

"Ahh, I don't think so, but," Speaking of, Rukia pulls out a little carafe of the above tea from somewhere in her pocketless dress (she actually had it stored in her shinigami uniform, it was just a trick to concentrate on it to make it manifest in her hand) "I wont tattle if you won't."

[rpondicus]

Rory eyed the tea, and took a self-conscious 'sip' from his empty cup. "Works for me."

Thursday - the hospital

[rightawaydoctor]

Standing at the nurses's station in the ER, Christine erased several cases from the whiteboard. It was strange to her that a hospital that had computers wasn't yet listing cases up on a computer screen, but she supposed people in the 21st century had a hard time letting go of tried and true methods of doing things.

Noticing the man standing near a wall, just watching patients walk or being wheeled by, she wondered if he needed help.

"Are you hurt, sir?"

[rpondicus]

Startled out of his observations, Rory looked over, a bit lost. "Me? Oh, no. No. I'm just... watching."

[rightawaydoctor]

"Just watching?" That seemed odd to her. Why would a guy come into the ER to watch injured people be whisked away behind closed doors or drawn curtains? It seemed a little fishy to her.

"Any particular reason why? The ER isn't really a theater."

[rpondicus]

He shook his head, sheepish. "Just glad it's here. I- Hi." He stuck out his hand, abruptly. "My names Rory Williams. Used to be a nurse."

Wednesday morning - the library

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

There were a few books on dragons in Hellsing's library, but not nearly enough - and none of them had the information Scott was looking for. So he'd gone the library in the city, hoping desperately that he'd find something - anything - that would explain Laphroaig's behavior. He could tell that the dragon was upset with him, but he had no idea how to make it right, and... Well. He'd stopped by Lance's animal shelter only to find that Lance wasn't there, and there wasn't really anyone else he knew of who could help

[rpondicus]

The stack was easily waist-high, and the noise it made toppling made Rory wince, startled enough that, for just a moment, his vest went bronze before reverting back to blue. He reached out reflexively to help catch the man before he could fall too.

"Easy!"

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

For a moment, he considered pulling away from the other man and just walking away. But he wasn't looking to make a scene, and anyway... Had that bloke's clothes changed color, just for an instant? He wasn't certain. Maybe he was hallucinating, now, on top of the chills and the vertigo and ever-present scar on his throat. "Sorry," he said, the word sounding forced. He did pull away then, but he knelt to start picking up some of the books, waiting for the dizziness and that feeling like he was falling to pass.

[rpondicus]

"Thanks." Rory stooped to collect books too. Most of them were old, disused-looking things with dull titles about museums. Paris was a theme, as was Louis XV, and museums. Knocking the stack over had kicked up a cloud of dust. "I should've been putting these away as I went."

Hostel Clinic, any day before Saturday

[probingtime]

Getting ready for the beach party wasn't as simple as throwing a few coolers together and calling it a day. This was going to be a big thing; hell, Paul'd practically invited the whole city. Of course, the fact that it was BYOB and BYOS - bring your own snacks - helped, but Paul took care of his friends. Even those who hadn't met him yet. So he'd been stocking up on booze and other party essentials - hot dogs for the bonfires, chips, a couple card tables to lay things out - and then, of course, there was the baking.

He'd been baking more or less nonstop for a couple days, making a massive batch of brownies for the party. Special brownies, naturally. And it was impossible to avoid injury, working around a hot oven for that long, and unfortunately, Paul's ability to heal didn't include healing himself. So he meandered down to the clinic, reeking of weed and sporting a burned hand that was going to need some looking at.

Thursday, then?

[rpondicus]

Rory was alone in the clinic for a bit, reading a procedures manual. They're as dull as he remembered them being, but he was out of practice, and needed to get out of the habit of thinking of which herbs and poultices he'd need to replicate the 21st century medical supplies that... were actually available here. He was quick to look up when someone entered, and quick to stare.

"... Hi."

works for me!

[probingtime]

"Hey." Staring was, at least, way better than fainting. "Let's get this out of the way, alright? Hi, I'm Paul, yes I'm an alien." He held his hand up then, the gray skin a bit darker in patches. "Couldn't find a first aid kit in the apartment. You got anything for minor burns?" He'd have to make a note to actually remember to grab some bandaids and things next time he was out.

[rpondicus]

"You don't look like... sorry. yeah. Yes, of course." He closed the binder and stood, reaching automatically for a pair of gloves. "Let me get a look at it?"