Climb my ribcage to the replays run for you
Day: 42
Characters: Constantine trenchcoatmagic , Trauma ohsotraumatic , and Dr. Suchong biochong
Summary:Springtime for Connie~......No. Really. There's Suchong therapy for Connie. :D
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Afternoon
Status: Closed// incomplete
He was going to fucking kill Gary.
If he was right, then he would fucking kill his roommate. Gary had no idea what he'd done, or maybe did, it didn't matter but either way Trauma's damn head was going to explode before he actually got around to killing him. He hated laundry day, worst then anything here...that didn't involve people getting the shit beat out of them or blood or something.
...Okay. Talk about a fucked up list of things to hate cause it meant they were all happening in the fist place.
He could see not wanting to come to therapy. He could get that. But that didn't mean the guy didn't have to come and that didn't mean that Trauma didn't have to get him. Cause...Fuck. If he kept messing up he was in deep hit but with everything else and having nothing to block the pain in his head he was pretty sure this wasn't going to go well.
Standing outside the patient's hall, clothes in one hand, other hand in his pocket and staring down the hallway, Trauma did not want to go any further.
Mainly because he was a little worried that if he actually walked any further he might throw up, or have his head explode or....well.
At least he didn't have to walk too far into the hall.
Stepping up to the first door, Trauma glared at it....And then knocked on the door and tossed the clothes in, not particularly wanting to have to deal with the random naked patient.
"There are your clothes. Get dressed and come on."
...Okay, so as long as nobody screamed, or freaked, or reacted to anything he would be just fine.
...He hoped.
Characters: Constantine trenchcoatmagic , Trauma ohsotraumatic , and Dr. Suchong biochong
Summary:Springtime for Connie~......No. Really. There's Suchong therapy for Connie. :D
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Afternoon
Status: Closed// incomplete
He was going to fucking kill Gary.
If he was right, then he would fucking kill his roommate. Gary had no idea what he'd done, or maybe did, it didn't matter but either way Trauma's damn head was going to explode before he actually got around to killing him. He hated laundry day, worst then anything here...that didn't involve people getting the shit beat out of them or blood or something.
...Okay. Talk about a fucked up list of things to hate cause it meant they were all happening in the fist place.
He could see not wanting to come to therapy. He could get that. But that didn't mean the guy didn't have to come and that didn't mean that Trauma didn't have to get him. Cause...Fuck. If he kept messing up he was in deep hit but with everything else and having nothing to block the pain in his head he was pretty sure this wasn't going to go well.
Standing outside the patient's hall, clothes in one hand, other hand in his pocket and staring down the hallway, Trauma did not want to go any further.
Mainly because he was a little worried that if he actually walked any further he might throw up, or have his head explode or....well.
At least he didn't have to walk too far into the hall.
Stepping up to the first door, Trauma glared at it....And then knocked on the door and tossed the clothes in, not particularly wanting to have to deal with the random naked patient.
"There are your clothes. Get dressed and come on."
...Okay, so as long as nobody screamed, or freaked, or reacted to anything he would be just fine.
...He hoped.