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if you're hungover, deal with it yourself
stateofatrophy wrote in paradisalogs
Who: Clinic people! And anybody else who cares to visit.
What: Clinic is the new place to be.
When: The first week of the year.
Where: Your closet Cair Paradisa Clinic
Notes: Actionspam or prose welcome.

House pours himself a cup of the previously-brewed coffee and takes a sip. He sets it down on the table.

"This coffee is a disgrace."

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HAHA I just saw the title now

"Is it coffee, at least?"

Ted lumbers into the clinic, hoping to find something, or someone, to help with his hangover. He hadn't planned on drinking until he passed out and woke up with one of his worst migraines yet, but, well, there you go.

Edited at 2012-01-02 09:52 pm (UTC)

House is unimpressed already

"If you call colored water coffee."

House has already taken in the physical signs and is two seconds away from throwing a bottle of Motrin at Ted's head.

Isn't House's default state of being 'unimpressed'

"Hah, is that what the castle gave you when you asked for it?"

It then occurs to him nobody else is in. Goddamn.

"Can you heal migraines, by chance?"

Nope. He is usually cheerful. Like a schoolgirl. Now he's unimpressed.

"No. It's what my magical 21st century machine gave me when I asked for it." He grabs the pot and limps to the closest sink to empty it out. He's ignoring the second question for now.

haha house is exactly like a schoolgirl

Welp, guess he'll take the lack of a response to mean 'no'. He'll be going for some Motrin, then. It'll do for now.

He gives the pot and House a sidelong glance. "Just wish for a better one, then."

House's look is scathing. "We're not all so incompetent we can't make a decent cup of coffee."

The look rolls right off Ted as he looks back at the man.

"Guess the colored water begs to differ, huh? --ah."

He finds his pills and grabs them, taking them out of their bottle and popping them into his mouth, then using a glass full of sink water to down them.

"I think it might be from yesterday."

Allen was sitting at the front desk, not even looking up as he looks through an anatomy textbook. The desk itself seems to be half covered in full bottles of water, aspirin bottles and boxes of fruit juice- one of which Allen seemed to have taken the liberty of drinking.

Edited at 2012-01-02 09:57 pm (UTC)

"It also has no caffeine." He busies himself emptying the pot to brew a new batch. "Decaf. It's like asking for ice cream without the cream."

He looks up at that remark, looking as if someone just made him swallow something extremely disgusting. "There's coffee with no caffeine?"

First expensive raw fish and now this atrocity? Is this the future they are fighting to save? He'd have to vow to never let Komui know, he might join up with the Noah. "Why in the world would someone do that?"

While he looks for a packet of actually caffeinated coffee, he replies shortly, "Because people are stupid. And stupid people make stupid choices and everyone else must then deal with their stupidity."

"I see..." What a disgusting thing to think about. Then again, considering it was the day after New Year's and the majority of patients coming in were from results of their stupid drunken actions- Allen was willing to guess that little lesson on the intelligence of people would be a reoccurring one.

He finally finds the coffee and starts the new batch. While he waits, he pulls the bottle of Vicodin from his pocket and pops one. He holds out the bottle to Allen.

"Want one?"

Yep, wrinkling his nose in disgust once again. "No. Thank you," Allen hated painkillers. They made it hard to use his weapon and even if there was next to no reason to need it today, being powerless sucked. "I didn't drink anything, so I'm probably one of the few in the castle without a hangover today."

"Doesn't mean you won't end up with a headache from seeing everybody else's hangover."

He pockets the bottle anyway. Turning back to his coffee maker, he drums his fingers on the countertop expectantly.

"I'm used to it," Between his Master and Gwaine, dealing with other people's hangovers was part of Allen's dreary morning routine. "But if you'd like, I'll be sure to only send the ones who insist it's more than a hangover to you."

Gwaine is beautiful and innocent.

House fixes him with a look. "And you weren't doing this before because...?"

"I came in about fifteen minutes ago...?"

"Oh." He considers this for a moment and shrugs. Holding onto the countertop, he makes his way to to a different cabinet than the one he'd been rifling through. If memory serves, the whole milk was around here.

He watches, frowning when he notices something is missing. "Um...what happened to your cane?"

"A purple dragon stole it." If he didn't know he was on drugs (and oh, how yummy his drugs are), he'd be sure he's on drugs.

"...A purple dragon stole your cane," Allen's heard some weird things in Paradisa- that was part of every day routine. But this was pushing that routine.

"Why did he need your cane?"

"Hell if I know. I hope he chokes on it. Even here there is no respect for the disabled. Ha! Found it."

He holds up the carton of whole milk like a prize. None of that fat free, crap added for health reasons, excuse for milk for his coffee.

"I don't think a lot of dragons have respect for any sort of human, really," Okay, Alexstrasza was very nice and helped him, but most other dragons he's seen - it was considered polite by their standards if they didn't try to eat him. He looked just slightly amused at the milk findings.

He could care less about the battle of whole versus skim- neither kept weight on his bones anyway.

[Carolina's not taking too much time in suiting up and heading down to the clinic once she's less disoriented. Checking in on her people is her first priority and Maine's still one of her people, no matter what.

However, she does look over at House when he mentions the coffee.

For the moment, he's in the process of getting coffee. Real coffee. With caffeine. He notices her when he's emptying the pot.

"Sorry. Did you want some?"

[Carolina shakes her head as she shifts further in her seat.]

Heard you complaining.

Oh, hey House. You like interesting stuff, right? Well, good, because you just got something more interesting than the normal hangovers and nausea.

Molotov had been tending to her bears. Totally normal, right? Yes, everyone does that, all the time. Anyway, through a series of events that wasn't really anyone's fault, she now has a scratch from a baby bear between her shoulderblades. It's not horrific or anything like that, but it's bleeding.

Not that anyone would know that from the way she's waltzing into the clinic. For all intents and purposes, she looks great. That is, until she takes her white fur coat off and tosses it on a chair.

"Hello? I need someone with hands."

"Do you need someone with legs too?"

Blood. Yes. Definitely more interesting than what he's seen today. He tosses a wadded up coffee filter at Allen. "Let's go, Walker."

Seeing as Spike stole his cane, thus rendering his already limited mobility even more limited.

Allen was absorbed in his text, so the wadded up coffee filter hits him in the head directly. Ugh that one had grounds in it. "Ugh! Dr. House!"

He'll then notice the patient. She looked...vaguely familiar, as if he had heard of someone matching that description a long time ago- but eh he was drawing a blank and a patient was a patient. So he'll get up and head over to House.

"I still don't see why you can't get a new cane or wheelchair."

"Because the castle apparently gets a kick out of the cripple being unable to walk. Look. I wish for a cane." He glares pointedly at Allen when nothing appears.

"Legs are only necessary if that is your method of wound cleaning, in which case I would prefer that someone else attended to me," Molotov answered casually, looking through a cabinet. She normally tended to all of her own wounds, but she couldn't get her own back.

"And could this move a bit more quickly? I have things to be doing." Like cleaning her now blood-soaked catsuit.

A small sigh and a patient smile appears on his face in the direction of Molotov. "We're coming, ma'am."

And with that, he'll stand next to House, ready to serve his function as Allen the human Walker. All thanks to some annoying purple dragon.

Deal with it. He grabs Allen's shoulder, shifting most of his weight onto his unfortunate student. Once he gets a good look at Molotov's back, he comments, "That time of the month again?"

He snags a cart and wheels it along with them. Pulling open one of the drawers, he begins pulling out the alcohol and cleaning cloths to mop up the blood and actually see the extent of the injury.

"Clever," Molotov shoots back, sarcastically, then rolls her eye and takes a seat, moving her hair over one shoulder, to make everything easier. Also, because she doesn't really care to wash blood out of her hair.

"Do you make terrible jokes to everyone who comes in, or is that just special for me?"

Let's say this takes place after Spike's post, idek

Hangovers are a bitch.

That's the general sentiment behind why Julia has found herself coming to the clinic today. No, more like half-stumbling into it; that splitting headache of hers is so bad that it's taken away some of her easy, natural grace. She wouldn't come here unless she was desperate, and from looking at her, despite how hard she's trying to hide it, it's easy to tell that she is.

And what her eyes catch sitting at that table in the corner doesn't help anything.

... Oh, not that guy. Anyone but that guy.

That would be because it isn't coffee. [ Yes, she's been in the clinic all night - patients didn't stop for celebrations. She's also not trusting the water - or wishing - to have any tea yet ]

Backdated to the 4th before he's released? (Wash chained him to the cot while was unconcious)


[Disgrace or not, coffee sounded good and he could really use some right about now.]

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