*blinks*

[daftchirurgeon]

*wanders in, highly confused; under his arm he carries a cloth bearing his possessions (which means, a few pieces of cloth, a bundle of medical instruments, very little food and equally little money). He wears only a simple loincloth and a blanket draped around his shoulders; the only objects of worth that he wears openly are the two copper

Comments

[sweariwontdie]

*bows* Welcome... M. Hory...

You do keep strange company. *looks a little worried*

I hope you like it here. Tis a long way from your home.

Armand St. Just at your service.

[daftchirurgeon]

Oh gods finally, a normal human being!

... well, I've come to a strange place. Thank you for the welcome, Armand St. Just. *hopeful look* Have you need of a chirurgeon's service?

[sweariwontdie]

Yeah, right, a normal effed-up human being.

Not at the moment. Often though. You should meet Sweeney Todd. He's fascinated with... things like that.

Do you know a cure for bad dreams?

[daftchirurgeon]

... you should read my canon sometime. I swear, the author hated me.

'Things like that'?

Well. Not directly. But I could make you a sleeping draught, certainly, that would let you sleep so deep that you would not dream.