lovemykilt | A hospital room in New Gotham, Tuesday afternoon

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A hospital room in New Gotham, Tuesday afternoon

"Alright, Mr. Priestly," the doctor said, holding up a cast saw. "You ready to get this thing off you?"

"I cannot possibly express how much," Priestly said. "Do you have any idea how much these things itch?"

The doctor laughed. "Actually, I do. You'd be amazed how many pens and rulers and things end up under casts. Especially full leg ones." He gave Priestly a sharp look. "But you're too smart for that, right?"

"I am, but I can't promise my red panda didn't jam anything in there while I slept."

". . . What?"

"So, cast! Let's get that saw buzzing!"

[ooc: possibly kind of late, but whatevs. Open for one expected, and any phone calls and messages that want to be dropped in!]

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The doctor left them to their conversation, moving around to get the other side.

"Stevesie has no lack of places to hide things," Priestly pointed out. "I'm guessing he'll be more disappointed by how much harder it is for him to free climb my bare leg."

"How many band-aids in your future before he catches on?" Dinah smirked a little and said, "So when are you starting P.T.?"

"As soon as I possibly can," Priestly said. "So, you know. Friday."

"Your x-rays look really good, so can start working it gently as soon as you get home," the doctor said as he finished with the saw and picked up the cast spreader and bandage scissors. "I'm going to take a look at things once I get this off just to be sure, but I don't think you'll even need a brace on this." He looked at Priestly's leg for a moment, his hand paused on the scissors. "Which is kind of weird," he muttered, then shook the thought away and finished cutting. "Alright, it's show time." He pulled the top of the cast off. Several pennies and a few hair ties fell out.

"Well," Priestly said. "At least there aren't any pens. Or the remote."

"You don't even use hair ties any more," Dinah muttered, bending down to pick up the junk. "Are these Tia's? Hey, this one looks like mine!"

Priestly shook his head. "I think they all might be yours," he said. "No one at my place wears ponytails."

This was good. It was nicely distracting him from how freaking weird his leg looked. Seriously. It was like someone had replaced his leg with someone else's. An evil leg.

Yeeee.

And thus, P.T. Which Dinah would be happy to help with.

"Stevesie so owes me hair ties," Dinah pouted, leaning into him. She checked with the doctor. "So, can we get him a nifty sword-cane for the duration?"

The doctor had a gentle grip on Priestly's ankle -- which was about twice the size of his calf, currently, as far as Priestly could tell -- and was slowly working Priestly's foot and knee. "The incisions all look like they've healed up fine, and the laceration's just about done, too," he said. "There's a little swelling in your foot, but no more than expected." He looked up at Dinah. "I'd recommend a flask cane over a sword just on general principle. But I don't think he'll need it for long."

"So. . . . I'm good?" Priestly asked. The doctor patted his shin.

"You're good. Extremely lucky, and rather fast healing, and due, I gather, for a nice sundae."

"Alfred will know where to get you one of those," Dinah decided. She grinned and hugged him, and sent a quick telepathic message through her hand near his neck. And a big thank-you to Karla for helping it along there! "Chocolate chocolate with chocolate whipped cream!"

"And how," Priestly said with feeling, knowing that Dinah would get the true meaning even while the doctor just thought hew as really into chocolate. He put his hands down on the bed, all set to just hop up -- then thought better of it and eased himself to his feet. "Oh hey, it feels just as weird as it looks."

The doctor smirked. "So I hear," he said, holding a sheet of paper out. "Here's some instructions for cleaning it up when you get home. The skin'll be really sensitive for a couple days, so don't scrub at it. Gentle is the name of the game."

Priestly saluted and took the paper. "Anything else I should know?"

"I imagine plenty of people have told you not to jump in front of cars," the doctor said. "So I'll just go with pointing out that the Metronome's got an open mic night coming up again in a week or so." He smiled. "My husband'll be disappointed if he doesn't get to see you perform, this time."

"Aww! He's a fan!" Dinah looked delighted, and bumped her arm against Priestly's shoulder. "You should make sure they have space then... if you think Sentience will be up for it," she added, with a tiny frown. "Maybe an evening dress this time."

"Tell you what," Priestly said. "I'll let you pick, this time." He grinned back at the doctor. "Thanks, doc. To, uh, you and the husband."

"I'll tell him you said so," the doctor said. "Now get. Before the press figures out you got the cast off and try for follow up interviews."

"I'll give 'em something to write about if they do," Dinah said, holding out her arm to Priestly if he needed it, and offering him a crutch. "I'm thinking you'd look lovely in teal. With sparkles."

"Sparkles are basically obligatory," Priestly agreed, taking a careful step, then another slightly firmer one when he was sure his leg wasn't just going to go out from under him. "I'll need the right wig to go with it."

"Red? Or maybe peach?" Dinah grinned at him as he made progress across the floor. "Very Rita Hayworth... careful. If you get tired, tell me, 'kay?"

"I'll be sure to whine about it loud and clear," Priestly assured her.

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A hospital room in New Gotham, Tuesday afternoon

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