Day 22: Chapel, Speech
A man outside the chapel adjusted his tie.
His composure was serene and his hangover was long gone thanks to practical medical advances in his world that patients could only wish they'd heard of. His brown hair was neat, his suit crisp and pressed, and his blue eyes surveyed with satisfaction a line of orderlies prepared to guard his entrance. At his side, his assistant peered down at a list, flipping through several papers.
"Fair enough turnout?" He asked with a small smirk. His assistant nodded, looking up from her clipboard.
"The larger portion, sir. Your comment must have intrigued them."
"Good, good..." He said, motioning for two of the larger male nurses to go into the chapel. He pocketed a pair of glasses with one hand and checked his wristwatch with the other. It was nearly time.
"Let them speak, but don't let them move," he said to the small throng of orderlies as he made his way towards the chapel's double-doors. He shrugged with a smug smile. "After all, you know how volatile the poor fools can be."
He was about to step into the place when he turned on his heel, arching a brow at his assistant in thought.
"Oh, and... have them close the doors behind us, Lydia. Don't want anyone coming in late, now, do we?"
"Of course not, sir."
The doors opened and the man strode in, gait confident even as wary eyes peered at him with some foreboding and even more pronounced curiosity. He walked down the center aisle, rounded the podium, and as two orderlies took their places on either side of his stage, he flashed a cool smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes and he pulled the microphone towards him.
"Good morning, patients," said a voice so familiar that it rattled cages and sent chills down spines. "My name is Dr. Martin Landel, and I'm your Head Doctor."
[ OOC: Please refer to the posting guidelines for this particular scene that will be posted in the damned_lounge before responding. ]
His composure was serene and his hangover was long gone thanks to practical medical advances in his world that patients could only wish they'd heard of. His brown hair was neat, his suit crisp and pressed, and his blue eyes surveyed with satisfaction a line of orderlies prepared to guard his entrance. At his side, his assistant peered down at a list, flipping through several papers.
"Fair enough turnout?" He asked with a small smirk. His assistant nodded, looking up from her clipboard.
"The larger portion, sir. Your comment must have intrigued them."
"Good, good..." He said, motioning for two of the larger male nurses to go into the chapel. He pocketed a pair of glasses with one hand and checked his wristwatch with the other. It was nearly time.
"Let them speak, but don't let them move," he said to the small throng of orderlies as he made his way towards the chapel's double-doors. He shrugged with a smug smile. "After all, you know how volatile the poor fools can be."
He was about to step into the place when he turned on his heel, arching a brow at his assistant in thought.
"Oh, and... have them close the doors behind us, Lydia. Don't want anyone coming in late, now, do we?"
"Of course not, sir."
The doors opened and the man strode in, gait confident even as wary eyes peered at him with some foreboding and even more pronounced curiosity. He walked down the center aisle, rounded the podium, and as two orderlies took their places on either side of his stage, he flashed a cool smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes and he pulled the microphone towards him.
"Good morning, patients," said a voice so familiar that it rattled cages and sent chills down spines. "My name is Dr. Martin Landel, and I'm your Head Doctor."
[ OOC: Please refer to the posting guidelines for this particular scene that will be posted in the damned_lounge before responding. ]