the sky's so clear and the sun's so bright. how can anything go wrong on a day like this?

[aviophobia]

Who: doctornota and YOU!
What: A week in the life of the good doctor.
Where: All around town: Hellsing, Main Street Park, the streets of Baedal, various bars.
When: All week.
Notes: Just tag in under the appropriate comment!
Warnings: Bones' mouth, probably.

See the threads for openings!

Comments

morning | aspic

[aviophobia]

Every morning, like clockwork, McCoy gets up at five o'clock, then goes over to the small dog bed in the corner of his room to wake Savannah. She knows what this means, and she's so excited that she practically hooks her leash to her collar herself. Once he's dressed, he takes Savannah's leash and leads her out. They step out into the brisk Toidaren air, he glances down at her and nods, and she takes off while he keeps pace behind her.

daytime | sobek croix (hellsing guild headquarters)

[aviophobia]

A short train ride from Aspic, McCoy reports to work at Hellsing Guild Headquarters, heading into the medical headquarters. He spends some of his time in his office going over paperwork, and some of the time out in the labs, doing physicals and follow-ups on the various Hellsing employees. (He tries not to swear too much, since he is at work, but dealing with all of it does get to be a bit much.)

daytime | sobek croix (hellsing guild headquarters)

[truth_is_cold]

Rhade has heard about Dr. McCoy from Captain Kirk, and a doctor with starship experience has it's appeal. That's what eventually leads Rhade to Hellsing, and he requests the location of his office and heads back to it.

At least he has a very specific question that he can ask. His blunted boneblades are still very uncomfortable and agitating, and having been caught without them by the Candlelighters had been extremely compromising. Not to mention that it made him feel half of what he was.

He's in his High Guard uniform as he knocks on the door, posture ramrod straight and overly formal, and he waits with his hands clasped behind his back and his chin slightly raised.

[aviophobia]

McCoy glances up from a sheaf of paperwork, scanning over the new arrival. He was tall, possibly about McCoy's height, and muscular, wearing some kind of unfamiliar uniform. Soldier, definitely, judging by the posture. Not Starfleet, but similar military training.

"Can I help you?"

[truth_is_cold]

"Your commanding officer informed me that you have some experience in xenobiology." He raises a brow in a near Vulcan way, before glancing around the office.

"I don't know if there have been any local advancements in bone-growth, but I can safely presume you're in a better position to know than myself." He draws his gaze back to McCoy, just to keep from being too intrusive.

[aviophobia]

McCoy raises his own eyebrows, then gestures to the seat across from him, inviting the other man to have a seat. "If we were back on the Enterprise," he replies, "I could probably do something for you. Here, though? There isn't much in the way of bone generation. What are you looking for?"

[truth_is_cold]

He enters and sits, before holding up an arm to show three small protrusions sticking out of his sleeve on his forearm. "These will grow back, and were cropped out of necessity. However, time without them is proving uncomfortable.

"I'm looking into alternate ways to protect them as they healed, however I was hoping I could speed up the process." He folds his hands together, relaxing only slightly in the chair. His movements are usually borderline robotic.

"In the High Guard there would have been alternate methods to repair the issue but here I suppose I will have to wait it out."

[aviophobia]

McCoy leans forward to examine them with a critical eye, his brows furrowing slightly. They look like bone growths of a sort, and he wonders how long they would be when fully grown.

"Uncomfortable how?" he asks.

[truth_is_cold]

"They ache. They hurt a great deal when I first clipped them, but now they ache and my forearms are irritated." He tilts his head as he looks at his forearms. "I'm having customized protective guards for them made. So if you're unable to it won't be too much trouble. I'm mostly interested in what they have given you to deal with xenian emergency situations.

"I'm a human subspecies, but still unlike enough that some treatments could cause difficulties."

[aviophobia]

McCoy spreads his hands. "I have a dermal regenerator, a tricorder, a hypospray and some cartridges, and the basics out there. Luckily, this - " he picks up his tricorder (it's never far from him, not with how shit goes down in this city) - "would tell me enough about your body chemistry and what's wrong with you that I could probably make do with what I have."

[truth_is_cold]

He cocks his head doggishly at the tricorder. "Is that a scanner?" He's at least recognizably familiar with what it could be, but his technology is different enough that he has to make an educated guess.

"My people were originally genetically engineered. We heal fast, regulate our metabolism, we're stronger and more densely built. Like heavy-gravity worlders. We're immune to most diseases and adapt incredibly quickly, as well as to some poisons. But still have roughly the same number of genes and are capable of interbreeding with humans."

He's basically an Augment.

[aviophobia]

"It's a tricorder." He's impressed the other man managed to recognize it at all; not a lot of people can figure out twenty-third century tech. Holding it up, he continues, "D'you mind if I have a look at you, while you're here?"

late afternoon | dog fenn

[aviophobia]

When he comes back from Hellsing, McCoy is greeted by a wiggling armful of puppy, since Savannah apparently forgets that yes, her daddy does come home every afternoon. He greets her with equal enthusiasm, and they take the train to the Main Street Park. Even though it's cold, Savannah loves to run around, chase sticks or tennis balls, and meet the other dogs in the park - though sometimes McCoy does have to step in if the play gets too rough.

night a | aspic (temple of toivo)

[aviophobia]

On the nights when he has to report to Hellsing the next morning, McCoy suits up again and goes out to one of the temples dedicated to Toivo, medkit slung at his side. He goes amongst the ailing here, healing and fixing what he can with the materials he has at his disposal, and occasionally playing a bit of fetch with the dogs that flock to the temples as well.

[obscuredvision]

One night, there's a bit of a commotion at the front door. A young lady arrives, carrying a large bag of dog kibble. Clearly, from the way half the temple dogs mob her, they know her... or at least, they know what it means when someone arrives with one of these bags.

"Oh, my goodness," she says as she comes in, laughing, "come on now, ladies and gentlemen, calm down. I'm happy to see y'all too but I need to get in the door, all right? The sooner I can get to a bowl, the sooner I can share."

Of course, to the excited dogs, this is all so much nonsense. After a minute she more or less gives up, setting the bag down. She looks up, spies McCoy as the nearest person, and calls out, politely, "Excuse me. Would you mind making sure they don't tear this open while I find the bowls? I don't think I can get through without more ruckus if I try to carry this bag around."

[aviophobia]

McCoy glances up from a young man whose badly burned hand is benefiting from a generous round with his dermal regenerator, and takes in the attractive young lady who has brought in a big bag of kibble. Sometimes, he thinks, there are other perks to charity work.

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye on it," he replies, straightening up and brushing the dust off his jeans. "Hope you won't be gone long; I'm only one man and these dogs are hungry."

[obscuredvision]

"I just need to get across the room," she declares brightly, stepping gracefully, high heels and all, over a couple of small dogs. "I didn't plan this out very well, I should've grabbed the bowls first, then brought the food."

There are some bowls stacked near other supplies by the far wall, and she fetches those. She studies McCoy's face as she comes back--it's a pleasant enough once-over, warm smile still in place, but inwardly she's trying to place his face. And she comes up empty, and that's nice. No dire warnings or nonsensical information to dish out tonight, it seems.

"Thank you." She lines the bowls up on the floor and sets to work opening the bag. And then, to make polite conversation: "I haven't been coming here long but I don't recall seeing you here before. Are you a doctor?"

[aviophobia]

McCoy admires a woman who can navigate so well in heels that high. Not that he's ever been in them himself, but he's seen more than one girl who can barely balance herself in them, or walking that uniquely stiff and awkward walk one only sees in a pair of shoes that one isn't comfortable in. He misses the once-over, too busy doling out scratches and pets and gentle no, be goods and keeping the dogs away from the big bag of food.

At her question, he glances over. "Yeah. Dr. Leonard McCoy. You are?"

[obscuredvision]

Wait until you see her run in them, McCoy.

Ava's glad for his fussing over the dogs; it keeps them occupied while she starts doling out the food, but more than that--seriously. Any person who can drop everything to love on some dogs is a worthwhile human being. She fills up the bowls and rolls down the top of the bag. And then she closes the distance between them carefully dodging all the tails wagging at the ends of dogs excited to be eating, offering McCoy her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. McCoy. I'm Ava Lockhart. I started coming here--well, here and a couple of the other temples, in different parts of the city--a few weeks ago. I'm not a medical professional or anything. I just wanted to do what I could to help."

[aviophobia]

"These places can use all the help they can get." He wipes his hand on his jeans, awkwardly (dogs are adorable, but goddamn do they get slobbery when they're excited) before taking her hand and shaking it. "Nice to see people helping out. They appreciate it." He nods to the dogs, who very clearly appreciate the kibble.

[obscuredvision]

"Yes, I've noticed that." She may have started coming here with an ulterior motive--and she still has it--but she's found herself caught up in the actual problems the temples face. "I can help the dogs without medical knowledge. And if you do need some help, I've gotten good at getting blankets and water, and holding things."

...That last is said entirely straight-faced. She's not making a joke or being self-deprecating, she... honestly can hold things and do it well.

[aviophobia]

An eyebrow goes up, and McCoy resists the urge to stick a finger in his ear to see if an inconvenient blockage of earwax is making up words out of whole cloth and inserting them into conversations to see if he notices. (Earwax can probably do that, too. It's a sneaky sonuvabitch.)

"Did you just say that you were good at holding things?"

[obscuredvision]

"Yes."

...No, McCoy, it's not ear wax.

"Instruments and things. My mother is a dermatologist. I used to help her out in her practice, sometimes. When she needed it."

That perhaps makes a little more sense. Slightly. Forgive her; she sometimes forgets things aren't always evident outside her own head.

[aviophobia]

"Oh." That actually makes more sense. "I was trying to figure out what life situations one has to be in to discover a unique talent for holding things." He shakes his head. "It's good to know that then, Miss Lockhart. I know I could use an extra pair of hands sometimes around here."

night b | griss twist

[aviophobia]

On the nights when he doesn't have to report to Hellsing the next day, McCoy inevitably makes his way to one of the many bars spotting the streets of Griss Twist and settles into a booth in the back, ordering his whiskey neat. Though he doesn't go out of his way to welcome company, he doesn't discourage it either, especially after a drink or three.