Only Machines I Can Trust [1a/??]
anonymous
April 5 2010, 04:12:25 UTC
Click. Day one, approximately... 8:47am in the New York City area. Log number one. This is Alfred F. Jones, and I'm currently on the airplane from New York City to London, England. I am in search for a story, a first-hand account from a London doctor during the Second World War. About... Hey, how long until we land?... About four and a half more hours until we land in London. I will log back in after having met my client, the doctor. Alfred Jones, out. Click.
-
London was totally different from New York. For one, a lot more people were in uniform and that... Kind of disturbed Alfred. But no matter! They were on the same side anyway, so neither of them could be that different!
Well, apparently they were, after people were staring at Alfred like he was a tentacle monster about to wrap the people around with one of his tentacles and eat them. And he was only wearing his tanned suit with a fedora, sporting pens in her shirt pocket. How was this weird? Everyone he hung out with back in New York dressed like this! Ugh. Oh, good. The hospital the doctor was at; Alfred had finally reached it! Somehow.
The first thing he noticed when he got in was the lack of people. The second thing he noticed was the eerie clean. Granted, it was a hospital, but this was just scary, especially since this one gets a lot of war vets from the Blitz, or so he heard on the radio before he went on the plane ride. The third thing he noticed was the front desk, and that's because a woman called out to him. A woman in a starched white gown was behind the desk, brown hair left down lightly brushing her shoulders.
“Excuse me sir? May I help you?” She asked, and by God her voice was the most delicate thing Alfred had ever heard. He blinked and walked over to the desk, feeling like he entered a foreign country. Well he did, but that wasn't the point.
“Uhh, yeah please. I'm Alfred Jones, journalist? The one who said a few weeks ago that he would come by?” Alfred added after seeing the nurse's confused expression. Now her face twirled into a mixture between confusion and determination, as she searched through some papers until she finally found a folded piece of bleached paper.
“Aha! Here you go Mr. Jones; give this to Doctor Kirkland. He's the one with the bushy eyebrows and the sour attitude.” She noted and, Jones taking the folded paper from her hand, walked away. Or at least, tried to walk away until the nurse grabbed his wrist.
Her face was soft now; sympathizing, upset. A little older. “I'm sorry kid, for getting Kirkland.” Was all she said before she let go of Alfred's wrist and sat back down. Uh, sure. Whatever she meant by that. Oh man, if this hospital wasn't creepy enough... Why were there so many damn hallways and doors?! It's been 20 minutes since he was at the front desk and Alfred couldn't at all find the Doctor's area. God he hated foreign countries. But these were the ones who were on his side, so Alfred guessed it was okay. Maybe. Better than the crazy Germans. Oh wait; here's the door. Alfred pushed it open...
...and it was boring. Like, seriously, is this it? There was only one doctor in the room, which held a circle table, six chairs and a radio by the windowsill that was tuned into tunes, tunes that weren't anything like back at home. The only one that was there was an older-looking man, wearing brown pants and a dark green shirt with horribly unruly hair and green eyes... Dulled would be a good word to describe them. Along with much too large dark eyebrows. They didn't fit with him whatsoever. He was angled too far back in his chair, far enough that it was a miracle that he didn't fall and bang his skull on the floor, with one foot on the tableside and taking a big whig out of a bottle of whiskey. The guy looked up, uninterested eyes narrowing and dropped his foot, making his chair's legs slam! on the tile floor. Alfred jumped. The man didn't react, only putting his bottle on the table, now standing up.
Only Machines I Can Trust [1b/??]
anonymous
April 5 2010, 04:22:59 UTC
“Excuse me,” he started. He sounded pissed. And exhausted. His glare was creepy. He did look a lot older in his eyes than in his physical appearance. His eyes looked a little pink as well. Just a little though. “May I ask what you're doing here?” Scrambling around a little (The paper was in his hands!), Alfred held open the paper, handing it to the guy.
“U-U-Uh, the nurse at the door told me to give this to this Kirkland guy. I-I-I think that's you?” Alfred asked nervously (Why was he stuttering?) as the guy looked over the paper. An itch to move ran its way down Alfred's limbs, feeling much too awkward in the silence. The music didn't help relieve the awkward at all.
Finally, Kirkland looked up and, with a sort of scowl on, crumpled the paper up tossed the ball into Alfred's face. “You wide-eyed Americans can bite me,” was all he said in that amazing sophisticated accent as he left. Not moving much else, Alfred dug his hand into his pocket, picked up his voice recorder, and
Click. Day one, 3:10 pm in the New York City area, log number two. Just met Doctor Arthur Kirkland. He's an asshole. Click.
A/N: Uhmmm. Yah. Introductions! .A. The clicks that are gonna be shown, as said before, is Alfred's voice recorder being turned on or off. That thing is like, super important since it is like. Al's notepad lol. This btw, will get more serious as the plot moves so yeah. Them being like this in the beginning is part of the plot. .A. Okay I need sleep good night.
So much love for that little exchange. SO MUCH. For it being such a short interaction, you certainly made a wonderful start. Alfred's character is so adorable - I love how you're portraying him
Alfred's bit at the end was so very... amazing. For lack of better word. Fer srsly. <3
OP is so grateful to author!anon and will wait with no small amount of glee for the next part. :D
Re: Only Machines I Can Trust [1a/??]
anonymous
April 6 2010, 04:30:40 UTC
Click. ... *smack smack smack* Is this thing wo-oh, the light's on. *Ahem* Day two, time is... wow, 3:25am in the New york City area, log number three. Alfred Jones is back after meeting my client, Arthur Kirkland. Having booked a hotel, I have spent the night sleeping here. After I finish this log, I will go out back to the hospital to try and meet and hopefully say more than fifteen words to the man. *yaaaawn* My God, jet lag is horrible... Right! Um, I have not met the Director yet, and I plan to to speak to him about my client. Hopefully see if there's another free doctor that's willing to be interviewed for an American paper... *sigh* Alfred Jones, out. Click.
-
“I don't want part of this.”
“Well, too bad Kirkland, cause you're part of it.”
“I may have agreed to be interviewed, but that was when I had just signed in as a doctor to this hospital!”
“Time is no matter; you volunteered by yourself and have no one to blame but yourself.”
“If I'm forced to go through this, then at least give me a new interviewer! There's no way in Hell I will put up with that kid!”
“Listen up Kirkland; either you put up with that brat or I will let you go from this place. And we both know you practically live here, and if you leave, God knows where you'll end up.”
“A-buh-y-you can't do that! We're understaffed as is! You'd be losing a critical member of the hospital!”
“You think I can't let you go, Kirkland?! Try me.”
“...”
“Better. Now, either you put up with that kid, or you will be stripped of your job. Now leave.”
And with a deep huff from his nose, Kirkland spun on his heel and walked out of the Directors office.
Why did the Director hate him so much?! The fuckin' pig despised Arthur! And for no bloody reason! That was always the worst, when someone hates you for no reason. And by God, if the Director was gonna hate Kirkland, Kirkland would hate the Director right fucking back.
He would say that he would rather gouge his eyes out by a plastic spork than be part of this paper thing in America, but after having seen some of the people here, he wouldn't have the ability to. And besides, it wasn't the kid he hated... Kirkland just hated his origin. And profession. And too eager and too bright attitude. It made Kirkland want to gag. Someone was at the front. Someone in a tanned fedora and looking like he was Sherlock Holmes' failure of a brother... Ah, bloody hell. Kirkland just hurried off away from the kid until: “Hey, Kirkland! Wait a sec!”
Cant you take a bloody hint?! Turning around slowly, the Englishman felt his coat lightly sway around his ankles. The kid, Jones, ran up to Kirkland, and it took everything in the doctors power not to punch him in the face. “May I help you?” He tried to keep his tone as icy as possible, taking slight joy out of the small wince in Jones' face.
“Well, I figured that since yesterday you just, threw the notification paper in my face, I could try and get an interview from you!” He chirped, face having a now luminescent glow. Kirkland scowled and huffed, turning to the Doctor's Area once more. If Jones was following or not, he didn't care; he just needed to get a drink.
-
Click. *rustle rustle *“Okay so. Doctor Arthur Kirkland, you have been in his hospital for quite a time yes?”
“...”
“What have you seen during your undisclosed time in this hospital?”
Only Machines I Can Trust [2b/??]
anonymous
April 6 2010, 04:38:03 UTC
WHAT WHAT I TOTALLY FAILED. OTL
“... I'm letting you know right now, the only reason I'm part of this horrid situation is because if I refused, then I would be fired, and I can not afford that at all. I do not like you, and I do not like you for reasons that you do not understand. I could sit here all day and explain exactly why I do not like you, but I have to do things, unlike you and that lazy profession you call 'journalism'. I can see by your swagger that you think everything will be fine and we will all be reunited at a point in the future and live in a time of peace; well, let me tell you right now: that is a load of bullshit. Nothing will change; we all will fight the Germans, and if we're lucky, our city will not be damaged in the process. That window of opportunity, however, is practically closed and it will have to take a miracle for someone to open it. So, in conclusion, you can take your justice and idealism and shove right up your arse. Have a wonderful day.”
“.... *sigh; rustle rustle* Day two, time is 10:12 am in London, England. Log number four. Cracking Kirkland might take a little more time than hoped. Hopefully I can get into his head before next century.” Click.
A/N: Second part, despite my fail above about the title. orz Uhmm... Yeah, I'm actually gonna try and get a new part each day, and so far I'm keeping up with it. .A. Im rather proud of myself. |D;
I dunno what to think about this part. tbh, the one part I absolutely adore in this is Arthur's rant to Al, and that imo is like 'asdfghj' and provokes utter fangasms for me. <3 Opinions? .A. Yes, that includes you, lurker anons, wherever you may be. Also, possible historical inaccuracy. But let's pretend that it's all accurate because I don't want to backtrack and edit and whatnot. |D;
Re: Only Machines I Can Trust [2b/??]
anonymous
April 9 2010, 04:15:46 UTC
I send love as well, but I'm a little confused about WHEN this is supposed to be. OTL Are you sticking with the time period from the prompt, or before, or after..?
Arthur's rant was indeed fangasm worthy. Gotta love making crude suggestions and then finishing off with 'Have a wonderful day'. XDD
Oh, my apologies. Yes, I did take up OP's time suggestion, and my bad for lacking a solid reference. orz Those will be available for the next part though! Almost done! :DDb
I just especially love 'Have a wonderful day'. xDD Of Arthur, wry so ass?
Re: Only Machines I Can Trust [2b/??]
anonymous
April 9 2010, 13:18:19 UTC
The author!anon is amazing for taking up this prompt and.. I am really looking forward to seeing how it will end up :'D And... how will Alfred manage to get Artie to warm up to him.
But... there is one thing that Author!anon fails at. Updates. ...didn't you say you'd update everyday? FCK REAL LIFE! IT DOESN'T MATTER WHEN YOU HAVE READERS WAITING FOR NEXT PARTS OF A FILL!
Oh man, Anon flatters Author!Anon. Oh so much. :'DDD
Oh shit I was waiting for someone to notice this. |D; Well, I wasn't able to fuck real life. Two days ago I had a total breakdown for quite a while and it was in general a horrible day, and yesterday I just. Avoided my responsibilities. xDD; I was gonna say this in my new part, which I'm gonna update like, soon, but I might as well say it now. =w= Oh I should add to anyone reading this: I might not be able to update Saturday. My family is have a party and I'm the one who's stuck looking over all the little kids so I may not get time to myself on my laptop.
And yes anon, I get it, I'll finish right now. *drags self back to her Word program*
Only Machines I Can Trust [3a/??]
anonymous
April 9 2010, 20:35:05 UTC
Reasons for why I didn't update these past few days at the end. :U
Click. Day two, 6:27 am in the New York City area, log number five. Attempts at an interview have been, um… Unsuccessful to say the least. I've yet to meet the Director an am approximately three minutes from his office. However, with this hospital and my sense of direction, it might take ten. Probably longer. Until then, I will log back after I eet the Director, hopefully have an interview with him saved. Alfred Jones, out. Click.
--
Ah finally. The Directors office. Took long enough; must have been thirty minutes since he made his log. Too long to get from the Doctor's area and to the Director's Office. Well, he probably made the same turn like, eight times but if he did, he didn't know; all the rooms and waiting areas looked too similar, all of them too clean and too... Sterile to look comforting. It creeped Al out far too much.
Knocking on the door, and hearing a voice inside giving his consent to come in, Alfred opened the door and saw the Director. He was a thin man, looking no less than 120 pounds at, what looked like, 49 having a white labcoat as Kirkland had. Apparently, the doctors (or at least the ones Alfred was able to catch) had a thing for white coats. Under it however, was a white shirt tucked into brown work pants. Of course, Alfred was easily able to see this, due to the fact that it was wide open. “You must be the one from America. Please, have a seat.”
“Um, okay sure. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Director; I'd been waiting to speak to you since I first got in London.” Well, I was first aiming to speak to Kirkland and I got it, so I suppose speaking to you is my second-most priority, Alfred thought. But he supposed it didn't really matter, especially after seeing the Director's face light up from that statement.
“Oh, please call me Thomas. And thank you, Mr. Jones; it's a pleasure to know.” The director sounded like he wanted to add something, but stopped himself halfway. Alfred's curiosity peeked in his body but it was shooed away.
“Alfred, please. I actually have a request which I believe would help me in making my article for when I get back to the States.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“I was wondering if it may be possible if you and I could have an interview, mainly about your hospital and what you guys see, and I could record it on my recorder.” Alfred held up his half-beaten voice recorder. The Director shrugged, a small smile on his face.
“By all means, if it may help you write your article.” With a ‘Thank you so much!’, Alfred adjusted the recorder in his hands and pressed the button.
Click. “I am currently in the Director’s office, speaking to the Director of the hospital himself, Mr. Thomas Kinlan. Mr. Kinlan, exactly what does your hospital have about itself? What are some of the more stronger points?”
“*cough cough * Well, our hospital is one of the oldest hospitals in all of London. We currently are understaffed what with our former doctors outside on the battlefield, tending to who who must be tended to immediately, but I suppose that simply means that we are entirely 100% devoted to this war.”
“What about your staff, or the patients you tend to see?”
“Well as of late, we’ve seen quite a few men from the constant Blitz attacks, usually from the port, and I can only hope that these attacks from the Germans do not last that long. As for our staff, as I have said before we are currently understaffed, but we make up our lack of men with our surplus in optimism.”
“What do you mean about the Blitz attacks? Isn’t London being hit as well?”
“No. Right now, it’s only the port of London, and even then little men had reached us. However during the Dunkirk evacuation, when there were more people on staff, quite a lot were sent here to be treated. Even I had to help out. I must admit, the soldiers from Dunkirk had been ruined quite badly. Many were missing body parts, were horribly burnt and/or would probably have been better left for dead.”
“That sounds horrible. How long did it take to get everyone attended to and accounted for?”
Only Machines I Can Trust [3b/??]
anonymous
April 9 2010, 20:37:10 UTC
“The entire day. Since I had first worked here as a doctor’s apprentice, I had never seen that many people here at a time. It was truly amazing. All I hope to be honest is that with the Blitz attacks, we won't have to experience that anymore first-hand.”
“Mmm… How long has your hospital been active?”
“Ooh, now that's a hard one. Ummm... Probably a little over 20 years? Give or take a few? If you're asking how old this hospital is, that I cannot answer.”
“Hmm.. Well, I believe that's all I need Mr. Kinlan, thank you.” Click
“Oh you're welcome.” Thomas had smiled, after the recorded interview had been ended. The Director was smiling quite brightly, in contrast to before during the interview, when he sat calmly, answering the questions without a hitch, almost like he practiced saying it.
“Now, Thomas, if I may ask of a personal, nonexistent request from you...” Alfred had (somewhat) smoothly slipped the secrecy card to the Director, who immediately caught on with his furrowed brow and perplexed emotion, his face being the one who spilled it. “I want to know if it's possible if may switch my interview client, Arthur Kirkland, to someone else. Kirkland is just... A little too rough for me.” The sigh alarmed Alfred.
“Well, again, our hospital is understaffed. I don't know if I can be able to give you a new Doctor to interview who consents. Kirkland... He may seem sour, but you really just need to crack him and... You'll get what you want, and some more.” The Director went from cheered to serious at the drop of a dime. Alfred was a little intimidated by it, but also a little confused at the late part. What did he mean by 'and some more'? And what of that pause? Alfred opened his mouth to ask what the Director meant, but the beepbeepbeep beepbeepbeep beepbeepbeep of a pager rang through the room.
“Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Jones but I need to go; I'm needed for something urgent. I'll hopefully see you soon!” was all he said before Alfred was left in the Director's office, confused beyond his mind as he did what he could do in this situation.
-
Click. 8:02 am in New York City, log number six. I'm now starting to suspect there's something going on with Kirkland. I might just stick with him; see what I'll get with it. Hopefully it'll help my article.” Click.
A/N: Okei. Fifty dollars you're all wondering why I haven't updated in x days. Well, if you look above, before the first part, my explanation's there, but because I'm nice, I'll cut and paste re-explain here.
Two days ago I had a total emotional meltdown and it overall was my bipolar day. Yeah was not fun. About yesterday, I just. Avoided my responsibilities. xDD; Sorry. I also should add this: I might not be able to update Saturday. My family is have a party and I'm the one who's stuck looking over all the little kids so I may not get time to myself on my laptop. I might be able to get on and update, but I dunno yet. :U
S'yeah. Real life came by and ripped me apart. Oh and also if the writing style at the end seems different from the beginning, that's cause I started rereading Atonement by Ian McEwan (which I'm using to help me for the next part) and his writing style is rubbing off on me, which I think is a good thing because. McEwan is simply amazing. Like srsly. Read Atonement then watch the movie. NAO. AUTHOR!ANON DEMANDS IT. D:
Re: Only Machines I Can Trust [3b/??]
anonymous
April 10 2010, 04:27:27 UTC
...I didn't even notice you'd missed day(s) updating. Found this yesterday. OTL
I adore this too pieces. And thanks for telling me above what the time period was. ^.^ I will do my best to get my mitts on that book. *determined face*
-
London was totally different from New York. For one, a lot more people were in uniform and that... Kind of disturbed Alfred. But no matter! They were on the same side anyway, so neither of them could be that different!
Well, apparently they were, after people were staring at Alfred like he was a tentacle monster about to wrap the people around with one of his tentacles and eat them. And he was only wearing his tanned suit with a fedora, sporting pens in her shirt pocket. How was this weird? Everyone he hung out with back in New York dressed like this! Ugh. Oh, good. The hospital the doctor was at; Alfred had finally reached it! Somehow.
The first thing he noticed when he got in was the lack of people. The second thing he noticed was the eerie clean. Granted, it was a hospital, but this was just scary, especially since this one gets a lot of war vets from the Blitz, or so he heard on the radio before he went on the plane ride. The third thing he noticed was the front desk, and that's because a woman called out to him. A woman in a starched white gown was behind the desk, brown hair left down lightly brushing her shoulders.
“Excuse me sir? May I help you?” She asked, and by God her voice was the most delicate thing Alfred had ever heard. He blinked and walked over to the desk, feeling like he entered a foreign country. Well he did, but that wasn't the point.
“Uhh, yeah please. I'm Alfred Jones, journalist? The one who said a few weeks ago that he would come by?” Alfred added after seeing the nurse's confused expression. Now her face twirled into a mixture between confusion and determination, as she searched through some papers until she finally found a folded piece of bleached paper.
“Aha! Here you go Mr. Jones; give this to Doctor Kirkland. He's the one with the bushy eyebrows and the sour attitude.” She noted and, Jones taking the folded paper from her hand, walked away. Or at least, tried to walk away until the nurse grabbed his wrist.
Her face was soft now; sympathizing, upset. A little older. “I'm sorry kid, for getting Kirkland.” Was all she said before she let go of Alfred's wrist and sat back down. Uh, sure. Whatever she meant by that.
Oh man, if this hospital wasn't creepy enough... Why were there so many damn hallways and doors?! It's been 20 minutes since he was at the front desk and Alfred couldn't at all find the Doctor's area. God he hated foreign countries. But these were the ones who were on his side, so Alfred guessed it was okay. Maybe. Better than the crazy Germans. Oh wait; here's the door. Alfred pushed it open...
...and it was boring. Like, seriously, is this it? There was only one doctor in the room, which held a circle table, six chairs and a radio by the windowsill that was tuned into tunes, tunes that weren't anything like back at home. The only one that was there was an older-looking man, wearing brown pants and a dark green shirt with horribly unruly hair and green eyes... Dulled would be a good word to describe them. Along with much too large dark eyebrows. They didn't fit with him whatsoever. He was angled too far back in his chair, far enough that it was a miracle that he didn't fall and bang his skull on the floor, with one foot on the tableside and taking a big whig out of a bottle of whiskey. The guy looked up, uninterested eyes narrowing and dropped his foot, making his chair's legs slam! on the tile floor. Alfred jumped. The man didn't react, only putting his bottle on the table, now standing up.
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“U-U-Uh, the nurse at the door told me to give this to this Kirkland guy. I-I-I think that's you?” Alfred asked nervously (Why was he stuttering?) as the guy looked over the paper. An itch to move ran its way down Alfred's limbs, feeling much too awkward in the silence. The music didn't help relieve the awkward at all.
Finally, Kirkland looked up and, with a sort of scowl on, crumpled the paper up tossed the ball into Alfred's face. “You wide-eyed Americans can bite me,” was all he said in that amazing sophisticated accent as he left. Not moving much else, Alfred dug his hand into his pocket, picked up his voice recorder, and
Click. Day one, 3:10 pm in the New York City area, log number two. Just met Doctor Arthur Kirkland. He's an asshole. Click.
A/N: Uhmmm. Yah. Introductions! .A.
The clicks that are gonna be shown, as said before, is Alfred's voice recorder being turned on or off. That thing is like, super important since it is like. Al's notepad lol.
This btw, will get more serious as the plot moves so yeah. Them being like this in the beginning is part of the plot. .A.
Okay I need sleep good night.
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Alfred's bit at the end was so very... amazing. For lack of better word. Fer srsly. <3
OP is so grateful to author!anon and will wait with no small amount of glee for the next part. :D
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Great introduction
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“I don't want part of this.”
“Well, too bad Kirkland, cause you're part of it.”
“I may have agreed to be interviewed, but that was when I had just signed in as a doctor to this hospital!”
“Time is no matter; you volunteered by yourself and have no one to blame but yourself.”
“If I'm forced to go through this, then at least give me a new interviewer! There's no way in Hell I will put up with that kid!”
“Listen up Kirkland; either you put up with that brat or I will let you go from this place. And we both know you practically live here, and if you leave, God knows where you'll end up.”
“A-buh-y-you can't do that! We're understaffed as is! You'd be losing a critical member of the hospital!”
“You think I can't let you go, Kirkland?! Try me.”
“...”
“Better. Now, either you put up with that kid, or you will be stripped of your job. Now leave.”
And with a deep huff from his nose, Kirkland spun on his heel and walked out of the Directors office.
Why did the Director hate him so much?! The fuckin' pig despised Arthur! And for no bloody reason! That was always the worst, when someone hates you for no reason. And by God, if the Director was gonna hate Kirkland, Kirkland would hate the Director right fucking back.
He would say that he would rather gouge his eyes out by a plastic spork than be part of this paper thing in America, but after having seen some of the people here, he wouldn't have the ability to. And besides, it wasn't the kid he hated... Kirkland just hated his origin. And profession. And too eager and too bright attitude. It made Kirkland want to gag. Someone was at the front. Someone in a tanned fedora and looking like he was Sherlock Holmes' failure of a brother... Ah, bloody hell. Kirkland just hurried off away from the kid until: “Hey, Kirkland! Wait a sec!”
Cant you take a bloody hint?! Turning around slowly, the Englishman felt his coat lightly sway around his ankles. The kid, Jones, ran up to Kirkland, and it took everything in the doctors power not to punch him in the face. “May I help you?” He tried to keep his tone as icy as possible, taking slight joy out of the small wince in Jones' face.
“Well, I figured that since yesterday you just, threw the notification paper in my face, I could try and get an interview from you!” He chirped, face having a now luminescent glow. Kirkland scowled and huffed, turning to the Doctor's Area once more. If Jones was following or not, he didn't care; he just needed to get a drink.
-
Click. *rustle rustle *“Okay so. Doctor Arthur Kirkland, you have been in his hospital for quite a time yes?”
“...”
“What have you seen during your undisclosed time in this hospital?”
“...”
“Doctor Kirkland?”
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“... I'm letting you know right now, the only reason I'm part of this horrid situation is because if I refused, then I would be fired, and I can not afford that at all. I do not like you, and I do not like you for reasons that you do not understand. I could sit here all day and explain exactly why I do not like you, but I have to do things, unlike you and that lazy profession you call 'journalism'. I can see by your swagger that you think everything will be fine and we will all be reunited at a point in the future and live in a time of peace; well, let me tell you right now: that is a load of bullshit. Nothing will change; we all will fight the Germans, and if we're lucky, our city will not be damaged in the process. That window of opportunity, however, is practically closed and it will have to take a miracle for someone to open it. So, in conclusion, you can take your justice and idealism and shove right up your arse. Have a wonderful day.”
“.... *sigh; rustle rustle* Day two, time is 10:12 am in London, England. Log number four. Cracking Kirkland might take a little more time than hoped. Hopefully I can get into his head before next century.” Click.
A/N: Second part, despite my fail above about the title. orz
Uhmm... Yeah, I'm actually gonna try and get a new part each day, and so far I'm keeping up with it. .A. Im rather proud of myself. |D;
I dunno what to think about this part. tbh, the one part I absolutely adore in this is Arthur's rant to Al, and that imo is like 'asdfghj' and provokes utter fangasms for me. <3
Opinions? .A. Yes, that includes you, lurker anons, wherever you may be.
Also, possible historical inaccuracy. But let's pretend that it's all accurate because I don't want to backtrack and edit and whatnot. |D;
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So she'd just like to say she loves it and wants more like burning!!!
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Update one part everyday. It gives me another reason to refresh this. And of course the first reason is that the story is awesome XD
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Arthur's rant was indeed fangasm worthy. Gotta love making crude suggestions and then finishing off with 'Have a wonderful day'. XDD
Also, Captcha is a genious. 'quaint that' LOL
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Those will be available for the next part though! Almost done! :DDb
I just especially love 'Have a wonderful day'. xDD Of Arthur, wry so ass?
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But... there is one thing that Author!anon fails at.
Updates.
...didn't you say you'd update everyday? FCK REAL LIFE! IT DOESN'T MATTER WHEN YOU HAVE READERS WAITING FOR NEXT PARTS OF A FILL!
...Made my point, haven't I? xD
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Oh shit I was waiting for someone to notice this. |D;
Well, I wasn't able to fuck real life. Two days ago I had a total breakdown for quite a while and it was in general a horrible day, and yesterday I just. Avoided my responsibilities. xDD; I was gonna say this in my new part, which I'm gonna update like, soon, but I might as well say it now. =w=
Oh I should add to anyone reading this: I might not be able to update Saturday. My family is have a party and I'm the one who's stuck looking over all the little kids so I may not get time to myself on my laptop.
And yes anon, I get it, I'll finish right now. *drags self back to her Word program*
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Click. Day two, 6:27 am in the New York City area, log number five. Attempts at an interview have been, um… Unsuccessful to say the least. I've yet to meet the Director an am approximately three minutes from his office. However, with this hospital and my sense of direction, it might take ten. Probably longer. Until then, I will log back after I eet the Director, hopefully have an interview with him saved. Alfred Jones, out. Click.
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Ah finally. The Directors office. Took long enough; must have been thirty minutes since he made his log. Too long to get from the Doctor's area and to the Director's Office. Well, he probably made the same turn like, eight times but if he did, he didn't know; all the rooms and waiting areas looked too similar, all of them too clean and too... Sterile to look comforting. It creeped Al out far too much.
Knocking on the door, and hearing a voice inside giving his consent to come in, Alfred opened the door and saw the Director. He was a thin man, looking no less than 120 pounds at, what looked like, 49 having a white labcoat as Kirkland had. Apparently, the doctors (or at least the ones Alfred was able to catch) had a thing for white coats. Under it however, was a white shirt tucked into brown work pants. Of course, Alfred was easily able to see this, due to the fact that it was wide open. “You must be the one from America. Please, have a seat.”
“Um, okay sure. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Director; I'd been waiting to speak to you since I first got in London.” Well, I was first aiming to speak to Kirkland and I got it, so I suppose speaking to you is my second-most priority, Alfred thought. But he supposed it didn't really matter, especially after seeing the Director's face light up from that statement.
“Oh, please call me Thomas. And thank you, Mr. Jones; it's a pleasure to know.” The director sounded like he wanted to add something, but stopped himself halfway. Alfred's curiosity peeked in his body but it was shooed away.
“Alfred, please. I actually have a request which I believe would help me in making my article for when I get back to the States.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“I was wondering if it may be possible if you and I could have an interview, mainly about your hospital and what you guys see, and I could record it on my recorder.” Alfred held up his half-beaten voice recorder. The Director shrugged, a small smile on his face.
“By all means, if it may help you write your article.” With a ‘Thank you so much!’, Alfred adjusted the recorder in his hands and pressed the button.
Click. “I am currently in the Director’s office, speaking to the Director of the hospital himself, Mr. Thomas Kinlan. Mr. Kinlan, exactly what does your hospital have about itself? What are some of the more stronger points?”
“*cough cough * Well, our hospital is one of the oldest hospitals in all of London. We currently are understaffed what with our former doctors outside on the battlefield, tending to who who must be tended to immediately, but I suppose that simply means that we are entirely 100% devoted to this war.”
“What about your staff, or the patients you tend to see?”
“Well as of late, we’ve seen quite a few men from the constant Blitz attacks, usually from the port, and I can only hope that these attacks from the Germans do not last that long. As for our staff, as I have said before we are currently understaffed, but we make up our lack of men with our surplus in optimism.”
“What do you mean about the Blitz attacks? Isn’t London being hit as well?”
“No. Right now, it’s only the port of London, and even then little men had reached us. However during the Dunkirk evacuation, when there were more people on staff, quite a lot were sent here to be treated. Even I had to help out. I must admit, the soldiers from Dunkirk had been ruined quite badly. Many were missing body parts, were horribly burnt and/or would probably have been better left for dead.”
“That sounds horrible. How long did it take to get everyone attended to and accounted for?”
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“Mmm… How long has your hospital been active?”
“Ooh, now that's a hard one. Ummm... Probably a little over 20 years? Give or take a few? If you're asking how old this hospital is, that I cannot answer.”
“Hmm.. Well, I believe that's all I need Mr. Kinlan, thank you.” Click
“Oh you're welcome.” Thomas had smiled, after the recorded interview had been ended. The Director was smiling quite brightly, in contrast to before during the interview, when he sat calmly, answering the questions without a hitch, almost like he practiced saying it.
“Now, Thomas, if I may ask of a personal, nonexistent request from you...” Alfred had (somewhat) smoothly slipped the secrecy card to the Director, who immediately caught on with his furrowed brow and perplexed emotion, his face being the one who spilled it. “I want to know if it's possible if may switch my interview client, Arthur Kirkland, to someone else. Kirkland is just... A little too rough for me.” The sigh alarmed Alfred.
“Well, again, our hospital is understaffed. I don't know if I can be able to give you a new Doctor to interview who consents. Kirkland... He may seem sour, but you really just need to crack him and... You'll get what you want, and some more.” The Director went from cheered to serious at the drop of a dime. Alfred was a little intimidated by it, but also a little confused at the late part. What did he mean by 'and some more'? And what of that pause? Alfred opened his mouth to ask what the Director meant, but the beepbeepbeep beepbeepbeep beepbeepbeep of a pager rang through the room.
“Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Jones but I need to go; I'm needed for something urgent. I'll hopefully see you soon!” was all he said before Alfred was left in the Director's office, confused beyond his mind as he did what he could do in this situation.
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Click. 8:02 am in New York City, log number six. I'm now starting to suspect there's something going on with Kirkland. I might just stick with him; see what I'll get with it. Hopefully it'll help my article.” Click.
A/N: Okei. Fifty dollars you're all wondering why I haven't updated in x days. Well, if you look above, before the first part, my explanation's there, but because I'm nice, I'll cut and paste re-explain here.
Two days ago I had a total emotional meltdown and it overall was my bipolar day. Yeah was not fun. About yesterday, I just. Avoided my responsibilities. xDD; Sorry.
I also should add this: I might not be able to update Saturday. My family is have a party and I'm the one who's stuck looking over all the little kids so I may not get time to myself on my laptop. I might be able to get on and update, but I dunno yet. :U
S'yeah. Real life came by and ripped me apart. Oh and also if the writing style at the end seems different from the beginning, that's cause I started rereading Atonement by Ian McEwan (which I'm using to help me for the next part) and his writing style is rubbing off on me, which I think is a good thing because. McEwan is simply amazing. Like srsly. Read Atonement then watch the movie. NAO. AUTHOR!ANON DEMANDS IT. D:
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Con someone give this to the mods so they'll delete it? |D;
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I adore this too pieces. And thanks for telling me above what the time period was. ^.^
I will do my best to get my mitts on that book. *determined face*
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