ways_infirmary | (no subject)

(no subject)

There is space in the infirmary tonight for people who did not decide to follow standard safety instructions when they went to the roller disco.

[ooc: Visiting post for Autor and anyone else wounded. If anyone needs Guppy please see the first aid in the original post.]

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"Don't be silly," Dr. Lecter says. "I'm going to talk to Autor, that is all."

The two waitrats in the background roll their eyes. Backup points at Hannibal, and then at an empty urine sample bottle.

Work Experience, remembering he's in charge, motions to Aesclepius Jr to go and alert the Fluffy Twitchy One.

Dr. Lecter goes and talks to Autor, anyway.

It doesn't take long.

Apparently the Fluffy Twitchy One is not available.

So instead the waitrat brings back Vyvyan, who has slipped a scrubs shirt over his usual clothing on which he has written 'Ordarly'.

He grins nastily at Lecter.

"I heard you were banned from here unless you're a patient." he says, "You causing trouble, or just looking for a snack?"

"I have been visiting my young friend Autor, who was injured in the roller disco," Dr. Lecter says. "The idea is hilarious, but, well. I'm leaving anyway; he's good, for the moment."

Pause.

"And I'm not permitted to treat patients; there's nothing about saying hello to an injured friend."

"The rats are right." Vyvyan says, picking up the urine pot. "You're taking the piss."

"Door's there."

"I know where the door is," Dr. Lecter says, shrugging and leaving.

Vyvyan watches him go, still grinning, then comes over to sit next to Autor's bed.

"You want him dealing with?" he asks Autor, conversationally.

Autor, having been amused and distracted by the wait rats and their broom crusade, doesn't see Vyvyan coming. He yelps, jumping when Vyvyan plops down on his bed, and jerks his foot in the process.

"Shiva wept, warn a man when you're about to do that," Autor says, ruffled. "And no, no I don't--I don't need him dealt with. Thank you."

"You sure?" Vyvyan asks. "He won't be able to eat me."

"See, that's the popular misconception that everyone has?" Autor says, adjusting his glasses in a huff. "He's not going to eat anyone here, or break any of the rules. He values this place too much. But no, as tempting as it is to send you after him to go do... something, I figure it'd be an exercise in futility."

"Yeah well..." Vyvyan picks a Satsuma off the fruit bowl at the side and peels it. "He's clearly picking on you. Got some sort of power over you."

"Which is none of your business," Autor says, his words clipped. "I can handle him just fine."

"Fine, keep your knickers on." Vyvyan says, getting up and dropping his orange peel on the floor.

"You shouldn't leave that there for the rats, you know," Autor says, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, yeah." Vyvyan kicks it under his bed instead.

"If you don't want help with Lecter, time to man up, kid."

"Thank you, Vyvyan for your marvelous assessment of the situation," Autor says, shaking his head.

Shrug. "Get help then."

Autor stiffens. "I'll consider it. But not from you."

"Yeah well." Vyvyan shrugs again and slopes off towards the door. "I don't really care, it's your loss."

He would have enjoyed kicking Hannibal's arse mind.

Autor waits until he leaves, and flops back on his bed, throwing an arm over his face. Where was Vyvyan when I thought I was paranoid? he wonders bitterly. And why shouldn't I accept his help now?

He sighs, and makes a note to thank the rats for chasing Hannibal off.

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