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Post by Johnny Delacroix on Jan 16, 2006 19:52:56 GMT
Johnny took a cigarette from the offered pack with your customary "Thanks". After placing the cylinder between his lips, he patted himself for a lighter, speaking around the cigarette. "Dragons and centaurs and vampires?" 'Oh my.' This was concluded by little Dorothy just inside the building who he successfully ignored as he stepped in after digging out his card, swiping, and punching in the code, and holding the door afterward for Eric. He finally located his lighter within that pocket of his bag on his way to the elevator. If Eric had offered a light too, he hadn't noticed.
"It's a cool idea to go roaming about. I'd be a little afraid of runin' into one of those dragons, though. Big lizards spittin' fire, next time I see you, you won't have any hair left." His head was bowed with his empty hand around the lighter he flicked on to burn the end of his cigarette, taking a drag and exhaling around it. When he lifted his head again, the hand holding the lighter still pushed the elevator's 'up' button. He pocketed the lighter afterward with an absentminded air that would most definitely result in another hunt for it in the future.
"Much less a vampire, wouldn't that be creepy." He paused and looked over at Eric thoughtfully. "Naw, you could handle that." The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. He stepped inside, waiting for Eric before pushing the button to his floor. He was very unceremonious about his ashing over the floor on the way up.
His apartment as usual was a mess. Imagine weeding your way through treacherous cliffs composed of books, light furniture, and junk with only a small path to navigate on. That path forked off in four directions. One being to the back of the living room where he had a buried sofa and a clearing where his lab table was located. The other three led to the bathroom, his bedroom, and the kitchen. The apartment had a distinct, almost sweet smell to it. There was of course the dusty smell of books and yard sale-type junk, and then the cigarette smoke, for which he had covered ashtrays everywhere (covered to prevent fire, of course. ahh, a thinker.). There was also slight undertones of coffee, confections, and the clove incense he lit sometimes to mask the chemical oder on his lab table. His apartment was really an asthmatics nightmare. However blessedly there wasn't the stench of anything rotting, as he didn't leave anything that -would- rot anywhere. Johnny navigated surprisingly well for being so distracted by his little hallucinatory 'pets', and his thoughts.
His first stop was his lab table, which he dropped his bag next to and sat his cigarette carefully down upon; on an ashtray, of course. He glanced around to get his bearings afterward then ambled over to his couch, plucking up items left and right and tossing them without any form of care behind and around it into the other piles. "Just gimme a sec. Make yourself at home, beer's in the fridge." His kitchen to mention, like his bathroom, were surprisingly clean. Except his kitchen had more appliances, pots and pans, and everyday kitchen utensils than large restaurants had. The only things he bothered using in there were the coffee pot, stove on the occasion, and the fridge. None of the other appliances were even plugged in. In fact, the only electricity he really used in the apartment at all aside from the kitchen was the lights. The only lamps he even had plugged in were in his bedroom.
His fridge was stocked with various sweet things, it was like a mini-bakery in there. Aside from all of that he had the standard condiments and juices and sodas, and a case of beer.
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Post by Eric on Jan 23, 2006 9:39:40 GMT
Two beers it was then. Eric barely noticed the mess himself. The only reason his apartment wasn't like that was because his dogs liked to dig, and he was always scared of buying something that managed to escape and then if his house was a total bombsite he'd never find it again.
One can he snapped open, the other he leant around a pile to clunk onto the table next to Johnny. The, critically, he eyed the couch. Normally he was kicking dogs off his, so he assumed junk was much the same. "I just fling this stuff on the ground, right?" Eric asked while he did exactly that, before twisting and flumping down onto the surprisingly unsticky couch, pulling out a zippo and lighting the fag dangling between his lips. He exhaled without out ever pulling it from between his lips, head tilting back and eyes fixing onto the ceiling.
For several moments he stared at it, quietly puffing away and eyeing the nicotine stains. He had that problem himself, and tended to just ignore it. Eventually he tore his eyes away from what was becoming a game of spot the animal in the nicotine stains, and eyed the beer. Which he realised was just beer and then took a mouthful of.
"You're one of these doctors that brings their work home with them, ain't ya?" He pointed out, having spotted the clean lab table. "Must be damn interesting whatever it is you do then. I won't ask. You'll probably use language I won't understand, right?"
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Post by Johnny Delacroix on Jan 29, 2006 20:38:09 GMT
"Really I just put this stuff in that stuff and there you have it." Johnny grinned some as he plucked up his own can, cracking it open. Blue-grey eyes lowered to it, watching the fizz spill out over his hand. Though it wasn't really. At least it wasn't talking to him. "I don't even know what half of this shit means, honestly. It's all just symbols and letters and lil numbers and like, it's a miracle whenever I get it right. I got my education out of 'medical science for dummies'."Wrinkling his nose some, he took a swig from his can, swallowing as he lowered it and scooping up a vial of pale blue powder. "I don't even know what this shit is." He couldn't finish that without snickering a little and he set the vial down. He tried to sound convincing.
He didn't mind things being tossed about so Eric could sit, and he plopped down himself in the chair at his lab table, feet resting on the seat just in front of his ass so his knees were against his chest at a near impossible bend, if he weren't thin enough to pull it off. Folding his arms around his legs, he took his cigarette with one hand, beer dangling from the fingertips of the other.
"At home I'm more interested in findin' a cure for the hallucinations, than anythin' else. I think the drugs mutated or somethin' though. So I've gotta mix a mutant substance to counteract it. I technically hafta create somethin' that's never been created." His wrist flicked a little to swirl the contents of his beer can before taking another drink from it.
"When you leave, what're you gonna do about the kid?" That was asked absently as he brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly.
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Post by Eric on Feb 11, 2006 21:43:17 GMT
"No idea" Eric said, still eyeing the top of his beer can somewhat critically. It didn't seem exactly right, something a little akward with it. Maybe it was just his eyes. Perhaps he had gone video blind. "I dunno. By the time all this mess is cleared up with Conner I'm assuming he'll be 18. But there is always the possibility that he'll be reassigned to another gaurdian. I mean, the only reason they really assigned him to me was policy in the first place. Every orphan raised by the DPS is under an obligation to take another orphan in at some point during their career. Triss will have to take one in himself, when he's older. They'll probably take him away, unless there is special request by both parties."
Pausing, he plucked his cigarette from his lips and looked around for an ashtray. Failing to find one, he picked up a plate from the floor and used that instead. it was there, it was convient and the mould on the plate didn't look particually bothered. Eyes half litted and Eric removed the taste of fag from mouth and replaced it with beer, eyes flickering over to Johnny.
Sometimes it was difficult to fish for conversation. Ok so he talked to Jenny and Meg all the time about anything, but they had opinins on things and half the time he "heard" their conversations in his head. Eyes slipped shut and he resumed puffing away on his cigarette, twisting it around in his fingers.
"So why medcine?"
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Post by Johnny Delacroix on Feb 26, 2006 21:04:19 GMT
What a life for the kid, to grow up with DPS and then be destined to raise someone else DPS. Had the nazis come up with that kind of system? It was the type they'd be proud of. Johnny spun his chair around with a little grin, propping his feet up on a stack of books. One hand lifted to absently bat a bouncing fluffball out of his face upon leaning back, grey-blue eyes settling on the stained ceiling. Well, orphans needed homes. It wasn't a horrible system.
Johnny seemed to consider the 'why medicine' question thoughtfully, tapping a foot at the air and taking a couple of quiet sips from his beer. Silence did bother him unless he was thinking, and in that instance he had all the noise he needed in his head. Finally a small smile curled full lips. "I dunno. Just looked interestin'. All of my teachers in school said I was so smart I should be a doctor or somethin' and I guess it kinda stuck. So I deliberated on what kind of doc I should be, and decided to study a little bit of everythin' while I specialized in medicine. 'Cause really I just wanted to find all kinds of new and fun ways of gettin' high." Half of his mouth curled into a grin alone then. "Guess I got what I wanted, huh. It's kinda like gettin' a tattoo of your girlfriend's name on your ass. Really regrettable after you realize how much of a bitch she was, an' you could be gettin' fucked by a guy named Gary a few years later who's wonderin' why your ass says Delilah."
His head lifted, gaze settling upon Eric sincerely. "That's a generalized statement right there, my ass really says Lucy." Snickering, he took another drink. His empty hand had gone to rooting around in a pile to one side of him. "You know, whatever help you need on this Stoneage thing, in my field, out of my field, just give the word. There ain't much else a guy like me can do in a semi-utopia-like society." A few things slid off of the top of the pile as he pulled out a bag of lollipops, setting it on his lap to sift through. "Beer's better with candy."
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Post by Eric on Mar 7, 2006 12:07:10 GMT
Eric wasn't one who ate candy. Sweet things hurt his teeth, so he left Johnny to it and considered the analogy of having someone's name tattooed across your ass with deciding to take up a career in pharmceutical medcine. Maybe the exams assraped you, or something. Eric wouldn't know. His education had been rather limited, not that he had the brain in the first place for all those little complicated numbers and letters and whatever else it was Johnny had whizzing around his head.
Interesting anaology. Suddenly Eric began to hope that if he was ever shot, it would be someone else that tried to prise the bullet out of him.
Although, in his experience they tended to leave the bastards in because if caught quickly the wounds were cauterised and it was just too much hassel to go digging about in flesh to pull the thing out. Eric should know, he had one in his leg, and one in his chest. He'd also had one in his shoulder, but that had been removed. It had broken bone. That was another world away.
Eric fixed his green eyes on the blond. Cigarette died a horrible death being smushed out next to what was possibly moudly bread. Or sausage. Eric glanced down and ignored it, setting it on top of a wobbling pile of something else on the table. Finger flicked at the ring pull on the beer can.
A smirk tugged at his lips. "That's real decent of you Johnny boy, but Max has already fucked with someone's head. The guy who used to work on it with me. Maxie fucked his head about so much James ended up quitting and moving out to Cercia. Ain't heard from him since. Think he raises chickens, or something. Although I don't see how chickens can be relaxing. All that squawking."
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Post by Johnny Delacroix on Apr 4, 2006 19:16:48 GMT
It was actually Bologna. He was trying to grow a colony. They saw him as God. Probably a vengeful God now, he noted as he watched Eric wipe out half of their little race in one fell swoop. His mouth opened as if to say something in defense of the poor tiny people, but he just shut it again and turned that half-glazed gaze up to Eric's face with a small smile. "I don't mean to sound arrogant because it's not really anythin' like that, but I don't think my head can get more fucked than it already is.."
He shrugged absently, placing his feet up on his seat next to his backside as he popped a lolly into his mouth. That turned out to be a bad idea because right afterward he fell over onto his back, taking the chair with him and creating a mushroom cloud of dust. But despite that, the beer he held onto was stuck straight up into the air, not a drop spilled. That would be blasphemy! Coughing a little, he rolled over onto his side, keeping the beer upright the entire time. His sucker also somehow stayed in his mouth, which he protected with the back of his head as his hand protected his beer when the pile of magazines and newspapers right next to him toppled right down, luckily not tall enough to reach the top of his lab table, but tall enough to bury him there on the floor.
He was trying desperately not to sneeze, not wanting to lose that sucker. But it was really dark down there, maybe the rescue team would send a dog with hot cocoa round it's neck.
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