He stashed his crutches in the office and sat in the rolling chair from the desk. He had charting to finish, notes about Thursday night to document ( Read more... )

*DEATH is still sitting at the desk as the evening wears on, reading his books and scribbling his notes. Perodically he experiments with various jazz hands techniques. He is beginning to wonder where the Rat had gotten himself too. He certainly had something to learn about efficiency, though, truthfully, he wasn't terribly bad. For a skeletal rat ( Read more... )

*DEATH strolls into the clinic with a pile of official looking papers in his hands. He seems to be working on something. Periodically you notice what looks like a Victoria's Secret catalog at which DEATH scratches his head. Or skull.

His rubber duck seems to be absent.*

((OOC: DEATH!mun is heading to bed. Feel free to bleed all over the floor, ( Read more... )