cuddlr

[enarms]

John Watson (41) Ex-military doctor. Yes, that John Watson.

✓       ✕

YES / MATCH / TICK
<span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>


NO / CROSS
<span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

Comments

[enarms]

[ you're bad ]

I've kept my eyes sharp.

[prettier]

Good to know some things are still functioning. How about your bedside manner?

[enarms]

A little rough around the edges.

[prettier]

Well, some people don't mind that.

[enarms]

Some people don't.

[prettier]

So why ex?

[enarms]

Not much use to the army with a limp and a bollocksed shoulder. Fine now.

[prettier]

Were you shot?

[enarms]

No, I ran into a low-hanging branch. A sharp twig got me.

[prettier]

I thought it might have been a nasty fall. Aren't doctors meant to stay out of the way of all that?

excuse the repeat performance, my laptop wigged out apparently asldkjf

[enarms]

There's not a lot of staying out of the way you can do when your unit's caught in fire. I was shot, yes.

I'll forgive you, this once.

[prettier]

I went with this lad from the navy once. Well, used to be in the Navy. Had part of both legs blown off so after that he couldn't sail anymore. Could probably float, though.

So what do you do now?

you're really too kind

[enarms]

That's rough. It's hard when it happens young.

I've just taken a job at the hospital here.

[ now back home is an entirely different issue and not one he'll be inviting into the conversation thanks a bunch ]

[prettier]

He was all right. Nothing wrong with the motion of his ocean.

What about back home?

[enarms]

Glad to hear it.

You ask a lot of questions.

[prettier]

I'm interested.

[He's bored]

[enarms]

Right. Presently unemployed.

[ is that boring enough that we can move on ]

[prettier]

PTSD? But you're working here. And you said you were fine now.

[enarms]

No. It's nothing to do with the army. I am fine.

[prettier]

The same way that everybody who agreed to come to fucktown to fix some massive fuck up in their life is. Right?

[enarms]

Can we move on?

[ it's not a request ]

[prettier]

[Did he hit a nerve, doctor.]

Where to?

[enarms]

[ honestly anywhere else ]

What do you do?

[prettier]

Food service. At home I worked in a canteen in an insurance office, here I'm playing greensleeves and selling 99s out of a van.

[enarms]

Oh. Joy.