Two people for the price of one transmission [16/??? artefacts collected]

[sadfreezingbrit_archive]

[ The year is 2011. The place is Wonderland. The exact time is exactly some time after the events of this log.

Both audio and video of this transmission are on, but the view leaves something to be desired. A white ceiling, half of which is obstructed by a smudge of blood.

The voice quality is top notch however and some may be able to recognise echo_of_utopia and sadfreezingbrit talking to each other not too far away. ]

No, I... I don't-- I can't...

Perhaps your room number?

...Five... sixteen on the... twelfth floor.

[ Short pause. ] All right, just a moment. [ Longer pause. ] Please look straight ahead and follow the light with your eyes.

[ Even longer pause. ]

Thank you, now--

...W-wait, there's-- Can... Can you...

Ah, of course. Let me just turn it off.

[ The sound of footsteps draws closer and for a moment the video displays part of the clinic, its most notable feature being a bed occupied by one not exactly stellar looking Philip LaFresque.

The other participant is of course none other than the good Dr Lamb who promptly pushes a button on the device, thus ending today's episode of ER: Wonderland Edition. ]


[[OOC: Video/audio/text replies from both sadfreezingbrit and echo_of_utopia are possible. Action tags at the clinic are also very welcome. Please specify who you're calling, in case you have a preference.]]

Comments

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

*Shit. Well at least he's not puking up blood or any of the other horrid Operator induced funtimes Tim has been subjected to.*

J-just take it easy okay?

*He pulls up a chair and sits, accutely aware of how unnerving it is to have people loom over you when you're injured in a hospital bed.*

Need anything? Water? Crackers? Blankets?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Thanks... [ As in 'no, thanks'. ]

{ But I could use a better place to stay until somebody's cleaned up the chaos in here. }

[ Philip doesn't so much mind the looming, to be honest he was getting a little nervous alone with the doctor (who is currently out for a few minutes). So really, Tim's company is appreciated, even if that's a little difficult to convey in Philip's current state of mind.

...Speaking of which, this is just about the point where Tim's appearance is actually starting to sink in. Again. ]

...Are you okay?

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

*He half grins.*

I got shot. I can add it to my list of life experiences.

I'll be fine. Eventually. Right now I sorta look like a battered housewife.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip shows as much concern as his largely swollen face can muster. ]

Who...?

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

No clue. I uh... wasn't there.

*And that's about as much as he'll say in a public place like this.*

How about you? Your head looks like someone dropped a brick on it.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Feels like it too....

[ Philip chuckles, then almost laughs. 'Inappropriate emotional responses'. That is also a thing that's happening here right now.

He doesn't answer the question, half because it doesn't register in the first place and half because he doesn't have an answer. It's all gone, at the very least for now... ]

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

*He's familiar with head injuries of ALL KINDS so the laughter doesn't phase him. *

How long you gonna stay in here? Hospitals give me the creeps.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ The chuckling ebbs away and Philip looks temporarily confused at his own reaction, not sure what was so funny in the first place.

Right! Anyway. Question. ]

She said, uh...

[ She being none other than Doctor ~SMILE~ Lamb and the thing she said being... err... a bit... foggy right now.

On the plus side, we have once more arrived at the point where Tim's appearance is actually starting to sink in. ]

Are... are you okay?

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

She..?

*Quick check..... Female doctors? Nope. Don't know any.*

I'm still okay Philip. I think your brain got mushed.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ For a moment Philip's brain jumps to a question Tim asked some time ago. Or maybe it just provides confirmation for whoever may care to listen. The logistics are a little unclear up there right now, but either way: ]

You didn't do it...

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

I.... oh.

*That's quite the sigh of relief there.*

Good. I was starting to think he ONLY went after my friends.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ In case the question loop didn't make it apparent, retaining information is not on the to-do list of Philip's mind right now.

The doctor said she believed it was an attack by one of the more violent residents. Dean later asked him if he got hit by a bus or if he got into a fight with a grizzly bear and lost.

But surely it's not necessary for him to recall all of that right now, right? A few key points will do... ]

The doctor said, maybe it was... a grizzly bear driving a bus, but that doesn't sound right to me, we didn't even build a car yet. And the corridor is too small...

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

Your concussion story is better than my concussion story. I named a neon pony Herbert.

You should get some rest.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ As if he'd only been waiting for permission Philip blinks a few times before closing his eyes. ]

You've... got a neon pony?

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

I had one. It was part of an event. I'll explain later.

You just relax and recover.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip comments, but his final statement is instantly translated into quietly slurred mumble, sadly losing its undoubtedly profound meaning in the process.

He had every intention of putting the relax and recover part off until he was alone, but with three almost sleepless disco days on his account that's a little easier said than done.

In fact pretty much everything is easier said than done in his current condition, including the actual act of saying things.

Everything except for keeping his eyes closed and slowly drifting off to sleep... ]

[timisnotme.livejournal.com]

*He shakes his head slowly. Poor guy. Well at least he knows he didn't have anything to do with Philip's new bruised exterior, and that's a relief. On the other hand, whoever beat up Philip may come by to finish the job, it's not like there's a lot of security in the clinic.

Tim covers Philip with a blanket and settles down in his chair to wait. Tim and his Sega Nomad need some quality time together anyway.*