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Post by Devin O. Salinzky on Feb 2, 2015 16:36:42 GMT -5
The man arrived at his new practice within the city mid-day, carrying only a briefcase and dressed in a plain and comfortable semi-casual dress shirt and tie with plain black slacks and leather shoes that were well taken care of but slightly beaten for the trip. It was clear enough from their condition that he was the type of man who'd likely have them cleaned by tomorrow and looking damn near new. As he stopped in front of the glass outer door he switched the brown leather case from his right hand to his left and plunged the slender right hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a key ring, fumbling through the keys until he found the one that'd been painted with a small blue dot on its head. If one looked closely, all the keys had such dots for easy identification, and soon the lock itself would have a small blue dot someplace on it as well. Hey, if someone had his keys and wanted in they'd just keep trying them anyways.
He finally unlocked the door and stepped into what was to become his waiting room, pocketing the keys and running his free hand through his short black hair. He paused as his brown eyes surveyed the large number of boxes occupying the relatively small front room.
“You've got to be kidding me, they put this here and probably stacked the waiting chairs in the bloody O.R.” the man shook his head and went down to his soon to be office, placing his briefcase on the desk left by the prior owner, leaving it there for the moment as he went from room to room, checking what had been placed where briefly, his thing face giving a brief look of mixed satisfaction and slight frustration as he peeked into the O.R. One operating table, twelve chairs. No boxes. Yup.
Well, no reason in drawing it out, he wanted to be ready to go and accepting patients as soon as possible...he set to work first placing boxes in the rooms they belonged, moving furniture as needed, then unpacking boxes one by one. He knew he wouldn't finish today – he had to get back to his home and do much the same, at least enough to live – but he wanted to get a good start. It should be no more than two, maybe three days before he'd have his first opening...though he did need a nurse or two and receptionist yet, he could see a few people by himself in the meantime.
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Post by Devin O. Salinzky on Feb 7, 2015 20:10:44 GMT -5
A few days later and a few items less (you always lose something or other in a move, don't you?) the good doctor was open for the first day – so said the sign up front at least. He'd amused himself entertaining the idea of a grand opening but what did one do at a doctors office for such a thing? 'Buy one kidney transplant get the second half off'? He suspected that would scare off more patients than it would attract. Still, there was a sign plastered on the front – and had been for a few days now – announcing that he was accepting new patients and advertising his status as a skilled surgeon and general practitioner. There was a hand written sign as well stating that walk-ins were welcome depending on availability and would be prioritized in emergency cases. The lettering was neat enough, but only really visible if one was close enough o inspect the hours of operation sign as well.
He personally was manning the front desk in the smaller waiting room up front, mulling over applications for the handful of positions he had to fill. He thought he had someone for the receptionist at least, but that was honestly the easiest among them. Odds are, should they make a mistake, he'd at worst have an annoyed, not dead patient on his hands. He'd make the calls to the two people he had in mind and schedule an interview, it was key they have a good personality for the position above most else. The nurse positions were a bit different, he typically liked to have at least one male nurse and one female nurse to assist him – the male nurse to help him move patients if needed while they were out cold, and a female one to help evoke the sense of caring many people associated with motherly figures. He was more worried about the latter if he was honest with himself; he'd met more than one nurse that could put some construction workers to shame when it came to lifting dead weight that were of the so-called 'fairer' sex after all.
He set his current resume down and sipped at the hot tea he'd made himself – always perfect for the cooler months – and glanced at the door then the clock. Well, he wasn't entirely hopefully he'd get patients day one anyways, but there was always work for a doctor where there were people.
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Post by Slade Bronden on Mar 8, 2015 13:50:55 GMT -5
Slade Bronden eyed the neatly-written lettering critically before quirking a brow at the clinic's entrance. It seemed fairly peaceful. Quiet enough, in fact, that she wondered if the place was on the newer side. Or maybe she'd just gotten lucky on the time of day and she'd be able to pass in and out and ultimately make her meeting with Merenska in good time. The Journalist sighed and the gesture caused a sharp pain to lance through her lower lip, the result of which settled her about whether or not she really needed to see a medical doctor about it. It had finally stopped bleeding again, but it was also fairly raw after having been exposed to the bitter cold of Vascxious Sigma's unforgiving climate─ steam tunnels or no─ and also to the flat of Slade's tongue in an attempt to soothe the torn flesh.
The Journalist pulled out her comunikay and flipped it open to check the time before snapping it shut and returning it to her back pocket. The same hand reached for the handle and turned it, opening the door just enough to grant her slender frame entry to the clinic. Gunmetal grey eyes swept the interior curiously as the door was closed quietly behind her. Slade's posture made her seem more lanky than her height already did though she seemed fairly oblivious to that fact. Though Slade's style of dress wasn't necessarily remarkable in Vascxious Sigma, the fact that her hair was electric blue might stand out a bit. Sure, there were plenty of women in the City who changed their hair and eye color and added interesting modifications to their bodies but perhaps the Journalist's sense of style would classify her as 'not on the up and up.' After all, nothing about her really exemplified the fashions trending right now. If anything, she probably fell into that category of other that was all the rage when the populace grew tired of the mainstream. . .
Both hands found the pockets of her weathered leather jacket and settled as she moved further into the room, eyeing the rows of chairs in the waiting room thoughtfully. Fourth District was also known as the Medical Science District. She knew she'd be able to find this part of the Trade City littered with clinics and quick-care facilities. Now to just find out if there was anything to actually be done about her bite. . .
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Post by Slade Bronden on Mar 1, 2016 20:20:43 GMT -5
The Journalist began to fidget as she re-calculated the time it would take on public transit to get from Fourth District to Fifth. Perhaps she'd be better off taking care of the bite later regardless of how suspicious it might look. Merenska was probably going to scrutinize everything about her already― even treated the injury was going to draw attention. Slade inhaled slowly. She could probably just blame Dax. The cat really did get overzealous when she wanted attention.
Distractions, distractions. She was stalling.
As quietly as the slip of a woman had entered so she left, realizing that she couldn't put off the inevitable and it was better to simply go. Her time would have been better spent trying to talk up her meeting with Merenska. At least after talking to her she'd have a better idea of why Tëruan was dead, and how it could have happened in such a short time. . .
Maybe.
Once she exited the clinic into the biting cold Slade realized she wished she'd declined Merenska's invitation and gotten zonked instead.
{ End Scene: Location Change - Fifth District }
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