milliways_bar | (no subject)

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As it turns out, Vinnie wasn't responsible for the bar in my house - that was just some strange happenstance of the space-time continuum. He did try to steal my biology paper though, but, as it turns out, he learned his lesson and ended up writing the paper himself. Sometimes those life lessons do get through.

"And sometimes I end up walking into a bar instead of a patient's room. What is with this place?"

Seventeen year old doctor wearing his lab coat and carrying a clipboard looking mildly annoyed at his re-entry to Milliways.

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"You could say so."

He smiles.

"You are a human, then?"

[ooc: sure!]

"Most days, I think I am, yeah."

There are those days when human is too hard to pull off - days after 36 hour shifts; days after Vinnie breezes through with some cornball idea... days like that.

"That's not the sort of thing you should be losing track of."

Just so that he knows.

He grins.

"I know. But have you ever had one of those days when getting out of bed and going about your normal daily duties seems like far too much work?"

"Oh, I do know. I am a dancer, you see, and the saturdays there are sometimes two performances a day and you want to curl up and not move ever again."

"That's me after a twenty hour shift at the hospital."

"Do they make you work twenty hours?"

That seems like a stupid idea.

"I mean, with other peoples lives in your hands."

"Only when it's really busy and we're really short-staffed."

Which probably happens more often than he would prefer.

"Well, do not kill anyone. They will end up here and yell at you about it."

Milliways being what it is.

"I do my best to keep the patients alive."

Hippocratic Oath and all that.

"Then I'm sure you'll be fine. Probably. So long as you do not work late too often."

"Well, I am only seventeen. Legally, they're not allowed to work me too much, I don't think. But it's an obligation and I'm okay with it."

Most days.

"I am only one, and they work me too much. Of course, the director thinks I am twenty two."

So that doesn't really apply.

"Are there twenty-two of you?" he asks with a grin.

"No, I mean, I am one year old, and the director thinks I am twenty two years old. I don't think there is an age limit, particularly, except we go to bars afterwards, and I would be unhappy to be excluded from that."

He frowns. "How can you only be a year old?"

"I was created a year ago."

It's difficult to explain.

"I am not a human thing, I was born of ice."

"Created? That one you'll have to explain."

"Is there any way to? Frost- he is winter, all of it, the coldness, he needed a body to speak through and he made me and when he needs to speak to someone, or see Styx, who is his love, it is through my body. Does that make sense?"

"It sounds like mythology to me, but it makes sense."

He's actually rather intrigued, to be honest.

"It is, in its own way, there are all sorts of myths about Frost and his bodies. Ice queens and wolves and such."

Depending on which culture you listen to.

He nods, understanding a little bit.

"I'll have to update my mythology. It's been a while since I've read anything in that area."

"Patrick just thought I had multiple personality disorder, so this is a step in the right direction."

It can come across that way, in fairness.

[ooc: sorry for delay - doing stuff]

"MPD is much more complex. Tough, I must say, you are the first mythological creature I've met."

"What I have with Frost is not simple, either. And only hang about. My sister is here."

She's a little wilder than he is.