( This, the bright side of Riftwatch being so relatively small and lean as an organisation: the infirmary isn’t always bustling. There’s mostly just the everyday aches and pains of their people to tend to, someone bitten by a griffon, someone else ate some bad meat in Lowtown, sometimes someone receives a worse injury in combat on a mission, but generally the intake of patients is a gentle ebb-and-flow and not a tsunami.
Other times— they’re not so lucky.
But today the infirmary is quiet, no one trying to sleep out in the main room, and there’s only Doctor Strange at his table at the back, crystal sitting on the desk. He glances up. )
Yep, that’d be me.
( Fairly informal; he waves her on in. )
Doctor Stephen Strange. We spoke. You said you had glass syringes?
( And he still hasn’t received her form. But maybe they can fix that now, too. )
no subject
Other times— they’re not so lucky.
But today the infirmary is quiet, no one trying to sleep out in the main room, and there’s only Doctor Strange at his table at the back, crystal sitting on the desk. He glances up. )
Yep, that’d be me.
( Fairly informal; he waves her on in. )
Doctor Stephen Strange. We spoke. You said you had glass syringes?
( And he still hasn’t received her form. But maybe they can fix that now, too. )