(Untitled)

[ofhisword]

[Today in the Fabled Center of Camp (tm), there is a booth with a rather large sign:

THE FEELINGS DOCTORS* ARE IN
* we have hundreds to thousands of years of experience in this field. trust us!

The two people who are seated behind the booth do not look pleased.]

[Elijah and Katherine will both be tagging! we out!]

Comments

[crisscrossing]

Having fun, Mr. Smith?

[ofhisword]

['s nose wrinkles again, and he pulls back just a bit.]

That would depend on your definition of "fun."

[crisscrossing]

The... not-fun kind. Hundreds to thousands, huh?

[ofhisword]

Yes, I suppose that's a fairly accurate if not wide range.

[runstowardsfire]

Are you really doctors or is Camp being silly again?

[impiersonate]

Which answer do you prefer?

[runstowardsfire]

It'd be interesting to see what doctors do in other places and what other kinds there are . . .

But it's probably Camp being silly again.

[impiersonate]

It's definitely Camp being silly again. Though it wouldn't be the first time I've pretended to be a doctor.

[solipsismmortal]

I didn't know you two were doctors! Gosh.

[impiersonate]

Really? Didn't you? It's my one true calling.

[solipsismmortal]

Always the humanitarian, aintcha.

[impiersonate]

That's one word for it. [smiles at him, amused] It's been a while.

[bluetilator]

Do you know how to get rid of feelings?

[impiersonate]

Depends. How badly do you want them gone?

[bluetilator]

They're a distraction. I don't like them.

[impiersonate]

Have you tried whisky?

[jackoclubs]

-- so where are the snacks?

[impiersonate]

They just arrived.

[jackoclubs]

I'd be pretty disappointed if Camp forgot to provide snacks with its booths.

[impiersonate]

So would I!