[open] channeling angels in a new age, now.

[priorly]

Who: Prior Walter (priorly) & you??
What: Catch all logs for October!
When: October!
Where: various
Warning(s): language, likely mention of terminal illness (AIDS). Adult themes?
Notes: Please PM me if you'd like a starter, or feel free to wildcard me anytime.

Comments

[enarms]

Hello to you too.

[ there's bemusement in his face, mild, by the time Prior's flumped down into the seat and bid John be silent with the raise of his hand. it hasn't been difficult to place him - between the quiet word shared earlier in the evening that someone's waiting for him, and the frankly unmissable vocal quality, he doesn't need to be Sherlock to suss that one out.

John sets down the pen that had been raised in a vain attempt to do a little personal note taking amidst what's been a surprisingly busy night, and affords his visitor his full attention. ]

I'm not exactly precious about it. You can be flippant, dying or not.

[ permission granted, alongside a certain flippancy of his own. he hasn't exactly got the full measure of the man yet, but if their conversation is anything to go by, flippancy trumps solemnity. now, at least, anyway. ]

[priorly]

Well, now it feels distinctly less of a perk.

[Don't take away the small pleasures of a sick man, John, he should at least be allowed to shock people. A finger is wagged.]

And aren't you supposed to be precious about it? It's all free haircuts and rounds of golf, the doctors I know. Expensive doctors - they're all expensive. The bedside manners of an oiled rattlesnake and very precious about it.

[There's nothing in John's manner or speech that puts Prior in mind of a doctor at all, really. He's not even toting the show-off white coat. And that, so far, goes in his favor.]

Though you're used to soldiers, aren't you? [A little gesture around himself] At least some of the ailments and the vocabulary must be familiar.

[enarms]

I'm a product of the NHS and the army, yeah. So none of this is too alien.

[ hah! ha. God, if only these things could just be funny and untouched by the lingering weight of neither of them existing anymore. it is, mercifully, an easily forgotten truth in passing. he shrugs off the mental mention.

and gestures at the somewhat rudimentary setup. it definitely doesn't scream expensive doctors. doesn't scream back-alley quacks either, it's been decently dressed, but it's still very obviously a backroom turned miniclinic/office space - afterthought rather than part of the design. ]

Or very golf.

Suits me, actually— which is. Hm. An interesting - thing... to say out loud. [ "the brothel doctor life is the life for me" is his reality now. good to know. ] —Anyway, hi. You managed to get in.

[priorly]

Should there have been alarms set off at the door? Or weeping women in sackcloth crying unclean, unclean?

[Just one drink too many. The exaggerated act is a defensive measure, though it would take knowing Prior to know that. He pulls on roles like other people pull on armour.]

Yes, I managed to get in. It's not quite my first time among the courtyards of the courtesans, you realise. I've had friends ply the trade.

[There is a time, it seems, in enough people's youth, when it seems like easy money. Or easier money, to fill a particular need. Even just the quickest answer to a desperate question. Prior's never had a high moral objection to the oldest profession, far from it. But there are more complex associations for him now.

He follows John's gesture, taking the invitation to look again at the room.]

And I suppose it has its charm. At least I know I'm less likely to be kept here against my will, or if I were, I'd be tied to the bed with something more interesting than an IV.

[enarms]

[ a tick of his mouth, amusement or mild irritation it's hard to tell. it's been a long night, that much is for sure, and it's clear enough to see that John's preoccupation has had its knock-on effect on Prior too: he's not quite sure how long ago somebody slipped in to let him know that someone was here for him, but it was definitely a while. long enough to find the bar, for certain.

so as weary as John might be, it's not a feeling he's unused to. and it's also not one he's going to let bleed into this interaction if he can help it. ]

No fear of that. Unless you're looking to pay for it, which as I remember you're not. Free to come and go as you please. [ a moment of silence, watching him - then, because he may just as well ask early: ] Are you in for anything I ought to keep you for? If I were a self-satisfied American golfer with a nice office and free trim booked for the weekend.

[priorly]

You could use the trim.

[He'll take that tick for amusement and hope this comment lands in roughly the same spot. The man doesn't hide his tiredness well, and while some schools of thought find that kind of thing reassuring in a doctor, surely nobody patching up the odd violent incident in a brothel should be working themselves into the ground.

It settles Prior a little, enough to remove the need to talk about his conditions under a veil of ridicule (unclean, unclean - it's funny until it's not.)]

Right now? No. I got a repeat on my prescriptions from our alien overseers, so they're keeping things functioning, for now. My eyes are failing but they're good enough to get by, for now. My leg hurts and no one's sure why, I'm not sure I want to know precisely either, for now. I was kept in hospital a couple of weeks not long ago but they managed to get my blood clotting again, for now. My lungs get tight on cold nights but no pneumonia symptoms, for now. 3 new KS lesions - it feels like they're crawling all over me, but only the surface of my skin. For now.

[He hasn't given his diagnosis but. 1986. He has every classic symptom of something just beginning to stalk men like him. Unclean, unclean.]

It's just maintenance, really. I'm balancing this whole tower of cards with no plan for where to go should something collapse.