|
Post by tomkent on Aug 3, 2012 12:13:36 GMT -8
Tom had finally gotten to the hospital, his first day at work in Addison beginning in the next half hour, though he wanted to make a decent impression by not only arriving early but figuring out where everything was. The last thing he needed was to be wandering around the hospital like a chicken with it's head cut off. Lucky enough for him, Addison General Hospital had a pathology lab so a majority of his work would be there. As he walked through the corridors, the British-born thirty-five-year-old couldn't help but feel like he was right back doing his internship in the hospital's morgue in London but he knew it was far more than that. His specialty in forensics was going to be lessened a bit, but he would still be working in his desired field.
Tom made his way over to the nurse's desk, coming to a halt. "Hi, I'm Dr. Tom Kent, I was hired as the new pathologist? He said with a mild grin, indicating that he had absolutely no idea where he was headed. "I'm afraid I've gotten myself a bit lost, I suppose I'm headed toward the morgue."
"Oh! Dr. Kent, yes, we were expecting you. Your department is next to the morgue, we've made accommodations for your specialty. Cadavers in question will be sent here to you, just fax your reports and so on to the police station. Toxicology is located in the hospital, if you need any tox reports done, just send them up and they'll be done as soon as possible." The nurse told him, handing a couple files his way. "You've got your first cases already."
Tom slid the files closer to him, flipping them open as his hazel eyes scanned the page in front of him, flipping through to the next one. "A suicide and a car accident. Very basic," He murmured good naturedly It wasn't a lack of respect for the dead, Tom had just learned that as a pathologist, one had to keep a sense of humour and take a detached approach to every case. It was the only way one could keep themselves sane in an occupation focused on disaster and death on a regular day basis. He glanced up briefly at the nurse with a light grin. "Not bad for a first day. Are the bodies here already?"
"The car accident victim is on its way, the scene is still being investigated. The 10-56 is currently down there." The nurse responded. Tom looked up.
"So, the car accident is still investigated? Do they need me over there?"
"No, they have the police out there, they didn't want to throw you to the wolves your first day here."
How long have I been doing this? Tom thought, nodding slowly. So someone else covered that, at least for now. Way to feel redundant. Tom shrugged it off, figuring next time around he'd be called out. "No worries. Let them know I'm available next time around, I don't mind being thrown to the wolves," His grin was charming, confident, and cocky to a certain degree, but it was all in good spirits. The nurse grinned and nodded, assuring him she would. In the meantime, Tom read through the cases, looking at the basics of the information. Twenty-six-year-old female; assumed suicide. Victim was found near empty pill bottles in bathroom. Toxicology report suggested. Possible alcohol poisoning. Tom shifted, his eyebrows furrowing. So just what did this girl die from, an overdose or alcohol consumption? He exhaled slowly. This was exactly what his job was for, but nonetheless, sometimes the cases were a bit hard to stomach.
"The victim's in the morgue?" He asked.
"Yes."
|
|
|
Post by lincolnharper on Aug 4, 2012 20:24:59 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border-left: #2b4d73 solid 15px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]darling you are the only exception Things had certainly been a bit all over the place for Lincoln over the last few weeks... Zaine had finally arrived, a little over his due date but he had eventually made it... and Lincoln probably would have probably been surprised if their son hadn’t given them a bit of trouble at his arrival, considering who he had as parents and family after all. And now, of course, they had a wedding to think about... although he was fairly certain that he was just going to leave most of that up to Namya, and agree with whatever she wanted when she asked his opinion, and he would personally only have to deal with the bill later. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money anyway... and he was fairly sure that Namya wouldn’t go way over the top anyway, so it really didn’t bother him.
Lincoln had been working at Addison General for long enough now to know what path to take through the hospital from wherever he was that meant he would run into the least amount of people... even if it was a bit longer than just cutting through the main parts of the building, but at times like these it was okay to take a bit of extra time, since he had a cancellation and his next appointment wasn’t for another few hours... it occurred to him then that a honeymoon may be slightly difficult, especially since he had patients like Fergus who he absolutely had to see unless he wanted to cause them to have a complete meltdown... he’d have to talk to Namya about that one. He hadn’t even been able to take some time off when Zaine had been born, so she probably would have figured that out already.
Most of the people he encountered along the way back to the ward where his office was situated tended to avoid him for the most part... hospital staff, mostly... like they usually did, which suited him just fine really. Most of the stories about him were blown completely out of proportion, he thought, apparently most people around here just didn’t appreciate his bluntness, or his rather dry sense of humour, not to mention the sarcasm... he had the feeling it might have had something to do with the differences in nationalities... or the fact that all of the Harpers seemed to be like that, and it definitely took a special sort of person to actually put up with them. He’d found that someone (and who was possibly the only person in Addison beside his cousins that could put up with him), so had Beth, and he wasn’t quite sure about Alfie... he was going to have to make a note to call him or something, since he hadn’t turned up unannounced on his doorstep for a while now, which was a little unusual.
“The victim’s in the morgue?”
He heard a male’s English accent speak up as he passed by a nurse’s desk on his wanderings, he’d been a little too caught up in his own thoughts to really notice that much around him by that point. “That is generally where they keep the dead bodies,” he said, the statement pretty much automatically popping out with him giving much thought to it, not even bothering to look in the man’s direction as he continued his slow walk past. What could he say, he never had claimed to be the most social of creatures.
tagged morgause words 578 muse somewhere love remains - lady antebellum notes oh lincoln. credits irish & paramore! if you would like a template, ask, please do not steal! |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by tomkent on Aug 4, 2012 20:51:06 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 420px; border-top: #002436 8px solid; border-bottom: #002436 10px solid; background-color: #ffffff; background-image: url(http://i739.photobucket.com/albums/xx40/tippykazoo/Caution/pattern3.gif);]
[atrb=width,400] And Ive lost who I am and I can't understand Why my heart is so broken rejecting your love Without love gone wrong Lifeless words carry on But i know all i know Is that the ends beginning
Tom had been in mid-thought when he heard the male voice pass behind him and continue, glancing up for a moment at the sarcastic remark, momentarily taken by surprise. It was completely left field, and hadn't been expected by Tom at all. But then again, he should have figured as much, judging by how the question would sound taken out of context. He glanced over his shoulder at the man who passed him, noting the distinct hint of a Welsh accent in the voice that had spoken to him. At least Tom could have sworn he was guessing right. His mum was Welsh. Nonetheless, Tom tilted his head, unsure of how to respond to the comment for a second before giving a nod and a half smile. Right, then. I figured as much, thanks. I meant here rather than the scene of where said body was originally found. Last I checked, body doesn't just pop up here the moment someone dies. Though would make my job quite a bit easier." The quip was good-natured, sort of playing along with the contemptuous response of the man Tom could only assume worked here as well. He would have offered a hand, but the other seemed well on his way, though Tom put in before he got too far away. "Tom Kent. Pathologist." He offered a brief introduction. It was worth a shot, he figured he'd be as friendly as possible.
"I'm assuming you work here? You seem pretty knowledgeable of what goes where, after all." He added, a light grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He couldn't help himself. From what Tom could tell, the man was close to his age, if not a few years older. But that wasn't stopping Tom from tossing a mildly, easy-going sarcastic remark right back from where it was dished out. Didn't seem as though the other man was much of the social type, that much Tom could figure out. It didn't take a psychology degree to figure that one out. He took the files and tapped the undersides on the nurse's station counter to straighten them out, his hazel eyes turning back to where the man was heading. Still, that was what made it seem so much more amusing to Tom, and he couldn't resist responding back. He wasn't easily intimidated; not that intimidation appeared to be a factor in this man's mannerisms, but he seemed clearly uninterested.
Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart Let me go and I will run, I will not be silenced All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over There's a light, there's the sun, taking all the shattered ones To the place we belong, and his love will conquer
tag: Irish word count: ### outfit: link notes: a few brief words. |
[/td][/tr][/table] template by tippy of caution. [/center]
|
|
|
Post by lincolnharper on Aug 5, 2012 18:38:36 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border-left: #2b4d73 solid 15px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]darling you are the only exception Lincoln hadn’t exactly set out to actually make a conversation with the man he had heard speaking before, mostly expecting him to just ignore him or not even bothering to comment, like the majority of people had learned to do... not figuring that perhaps he was new around here because he really hadn’t bothered to actually look in his direction. So, naturally, he was a little surprised when the man actually responded to what he had said, glancing at him briefly with raised eyebrows, although still didn’t bother to stop his slow walk past. It wasn’t like that was something he really had to bother to actually answer, after all.
And then he had to go an introduce himself. Sighing slightly, and inwardly cursing the fact that his parents had been bothered to instil manners into him and his sister, he actually bothered to respond to that one. “Lincoln Harper. Quack.”
Well, nobody said he had to be completely polite about it. And he had at least bothered to return the introduction, so nobody could accuse him of being completely rude. Then again, he wasn’t really rude most of the time, honestly, he just tended to be a little more blunt than most were. Not to mention the whole ‘I don’t really care’ vibe he tended to give off, and he rarely ever actually seemed annoyed or even slightly angry when he was being like this to anyone.
“It hardly takes a genius to figure out what the morgue is for,” he answered, busying himself with straightening out his blazer as he walked, trying to remember exactly why he had put the blasted thing on that morning, it was summer for heaven’s sake... then again the air conditioning in the building did tend to make things slightly chilly inside the hospital, or at least it did in the department his office was in. He wondered if the administrator woman there did that on purpose just to spite him... it really wouldn’t surprise him if that was the case. Especially after last time she had tried to discuss babies and childbirth with him... he really had no idea how she had found out that he and Namya were expecting. Possibly from gossip, actually, she seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing.
“But yes, I do work here,” he added, checking the time on his watch. Still plenty of time before his next appointment, he was going to have to find something to amuse himself with before it started.
tagged morgause words 422 muse the quiet - we the kings notes he amuses me. also yay, you get his 100th post xDD credits irish & paramore! if you would like a template, ask, please do not steal! |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by tomkent on Sept 2, 2012 20:51:11 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #303749 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]And I've lost who I am And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand Why my heart is so broken rejecting your love Without love gone wrong Lifeless words carry on But i know all i know Is that the ends beginning
Tom had to bite back the abrupt, surprised laugh that had risen in his throat at the terse response, especially the term the psychiatrist had used that Tom hadn't heard in what seemed like years. Though he was very familiar with what he was referring to. He was about to instinctively offer a hand but decided against it, keeping the case files in his hand to at least keep the two in order. Much to Tom's annoyance, the mere two files contained probably about ten pages of paper each. God forbid any of them got mixed up. Could lead to some very unhappy family members.
"Lincoln Harper. Well, it's a pleasure," Tom said with a nod, his head having turned in his apparent colleague's direction; even though they were working in two completely different departments. His comment regarding it not taking a genius to figure out what a morgue was for, Tom had to think of just how to answer that remark.
"Ah.. yeah, I gathered that. You spend almost ten years in a morgue it sort of comes with the territory," Tom responded with a light grin, his tone still easy-going. He wasn't quite able to figure the other man out, just how to place his blunt remarks. Apparently and ironically so, for a man of psychiatric medicine, Lincoln really wasn't the friendliest of sorts. But that only intrigued Tom further into wanting to make friends, much to his own amusement. Dr. Harper here seemed as though the last thing he wanted to do was make conversation, but it didn't appear he really had anywhere to go anytime soon judging by his slow gait, so making conversation was exactly what Tom planned to do. "Surely that's something you're also familiar with in your field. Spend enough time in a certain atmosphere it doesn't take long to figure out what it's for. Then again I don't think it takes a PhD of any sort to work that out, right?" That same wry grin remained tugging at Tom's features even as he spoke.
He glanced back over at the files, looking at the nurse. "Was a PM done on the subjects before or am I about to make the first cut?" He asked, watching the nurse turn back around.
"No, you'll be the first." She responded. Tom nodded slowly, glancing over his shoulder to see if Lincoln was still nearby.
Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart Let me go and I will run, I will not be silenced All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over There's a light, there's the sun, taking all the shattered ones To the place we belong, and his love will conquer
And I can't understand tagged Irish words *** muse Trading Yesterday notes Oh me too xD credits irish! if you would like a template, ask, please do not steal! |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by lincolnharper on Sept 8, 2012 2:10:13 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #2b4d73 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]He hardly believed it when the other man said it was a pleasure to meet him… nobody ever said that because half the time he never gave them any reason to think that. Perhaps the only people he had ever been remotely nice to on first meeting them were patients of his that were children, and their parents… the actual child more than the parents on most occasions anyway, children he could actually tolerate unless they were spoilt and obnoxious brats. Thankfully, he hadn’t encountered any of those in quite a while, which suited him just fine. If only he could say the same thing about some of his adult patients.
“Or so one would hope,” Lincoln answered idly, when he said that it came with the territory. He was half inclined to agree, but then again he had witnessed numerous occasions where someone who had been working a job for years was still completely hopeless at it… so it was all really a case by case matter when it came down to it.
He stifled a yawn, it seemed as though he was going to need a few more coffees if he was going to make it through the rest of his day without yawning incessantly during his sessions. Zaine had kept Namya and himself up a fair bit at night since they had come home from the hospital, and he had made sure that he had been doing his fair share of getting up when he had to… whilst his fiancée was definitely a lot less hormonal than she had been during her pregnancy, being tired made her crabby and he didn’t want to give her any more excuse to pick at him more than she already did.
“A PHD shouldn’t be needed to apply common knowledge, but with some people you have to wonder,” he replied, trying to figure out exactly how this conversation had managed to keep rolling, when he’d really had no intention of it doing so.
darling you are the only exception tagged morg words 332 muse the lion, the witch & the wardrobe notes sorry for the wait, had a busier few days than i expected credits irish & paramore! if you would like a template, ask, please do not steal! |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by tomkent on Oct 25, 2012 0:18:50 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #303749 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]And I've lost who I am And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand Why my heart is so broken rejecting your love Without love gone wrong Lifeless words carry on But i know all i know Is that the ends beginning
"This is true," Tom remarked with an agreeing shrug, straightening the file on the counter. The man before him was clearly uninterested in being here and socialising. It was a wonder he ended up in the department he was in. Suppose it took someone somewhat troubled or socially inept to treat some of the people who were psychiatrically treated.
"Though you seem like a man who's good at his job," Tom said, offering a light, half grin. He would hope to God. He was sure he saw enough cadavers as it was, the last thing he needed was a derranged mental patient whose treatment failed to go mad and murder a person or two or take his own life. It just made his job all the more difficult, though interesting nonetheless.
No, he shouldn't think like that. Tom was sure Lincoln was very competent when it came to his job. It was Tom who found himself wondering if he this journey here was worth it. The new environment and complete change of habit and overall lifestyle was distracting as it was, and with everything else that his mother had been contacting about, the new things discovered about his father's death and Hannah's death were doing his head in to begin with.
Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart Let me go and I will run, I will not be silenced All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over There's a light, there's the sun, taking all the shattered ones To the place we belong, and his love will conquer
And I can't understand tagged Irish words *** muse Trading Yesterday notes Gah, probably short x.x credits irish! if you would like a template, ask, please do not steal! |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by lincolnharper on Nov 2, 2012 0:02:47 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #2b4d73 solid 10px; width: 399px; padding: 5 5 5 5px;]who will save me from all i'm up against out in this world He probably wasn’t in any state to come back to work. Or at least, he probably shouldn’t have been back at work so soon. But he had the feeling that sitting inside that giant house would just end up making him worse than coming into work and dealing with other people’s problems would. There were just reminders everywhere of what he had lost… she’d picked the house they had been living in together, walking into their bedroom now all he could smell was the remnants of her perfume clinging to everything in there, something he probably wouldn’t have noticed before but now in her absence it became noticeable, so he had taken to sleeping in the nursery instead, she had picked the furniture he’d bought for it, her dogs were still there, and when he looked at Zaine all he could think about was Namya. Not that he blamed their baby for what had happened, of course, he wasn’t that in that much of unstable state of mind, but it was hard to come to terms with it all, even if he did give the outward appearance of being perfectly normal for himself.
“One of the best, actually,” he answered idly, when Tom said he seemed like he was good at his job, not even bothering looking at the other man again, his expression had turned resolutely stony again as the thought of Namya had crossed his mind, naturally not wanting to express any other emotion besides cool indifference to him, like he had been previously doing.
Maybe moving back to Wales was a good idea. Then again, he would have to deal with even more of his family members back there, here there was only Alfie and Beth… of course, at least none of the Harpers were exactly the mollycoddling sort but he didn’t want any of the bloody sympathy that he’d get for a while either. He’d had enough of it already.
morg | 324 | outfit | bright lights - matchbox twenty | ahh now i have to play him without namya D: |
[/td][/tr][/table] template by irish! please do not steal. [/center]
|
|
|
Post by tomkent on Jan 12, 2013 16:12:00 GMT -8
For whatever reason, Tom's reasonings for doubting his very purpose at the hospital seemed to fluctuate. He was relatively new, and he knew that it was relatively common for it to cause anyone to ask themselves Why am I here? Did I make the right choice? Tom's general attitude had become more and more cynical by the day, however. Looking in Lincoln's direction, he took in the second blithe response that was issued, finding a twinge of exasperation irking at him. So this fellow wasn't the social type, that was growing increasingly obvious. But was it so difficult to get a bit more of a response from him? It didn't matter. Tom was still going to attempt it.
"Really?" Tom responded, brows raised. "Well, my job may be redundant if that's the case. Where did you graduate, if y don't mind me asking?"
Tom wasn't about to give in easily. He collected the files and pulled the pen out of his shirt pocket, signing both as the pathologist in charge of the two cases, lifting his hazel eyes back to Lincoln. Maybe, just maybe more of a conversation would become of this. Tom was always willing and it didn't hurt to get to know his colleagues more. Judging by the accent, and being from overseas himself, Tom was pretty sure he was from the UK as well, but couldn't have been sure.
|
|
|
Post by lincolnharper on Jan 21, 2013 2:56:19 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #2b4d73 solid 10px; width: 399px; padding: 5 5 5 5px;]who will save me from all i'm up against out in this world Considering his personality, most people wouldn’t have picked psychiatry as his chosen field of expertise. However, as cantankerous and sarcastic as he was, added to the fact he didn’t like people all that much, he was good at it. Just because he didn’t like people didn’t mean he didn’t understand people, he did that extremely well, in fact. Could he be a little bit warmer? Possibly. But it probably wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t awful to his patients, for the most part, even if he did actually end up pissing some of them off, but his family traits had rubbed off on him far too much to make him feel any more inclined towards being so friendly to people he wasn’t in a personal relationship with, which he thought was fair enough.
He raised an eyebrow when he asked where he had graduated from… to him, where you graduated from hardly mattered, nor did it make any difference at how good you were at your job, you were either good at it or you weren’t. Admittedly, some universities were probably better opportunity wise but most generally had the same basic core structure in whatever you were studying, wherever you decided to go. But, if he wanted to know…
“I graduated from Cambridge,” he answered, tones as dry as they had been when he had said everything before.
morg | 228 | wrapped in your arms - fireflight | *rolls* |
[/td][/tr][/table] template by irish! please do not steal. [/center]
|
|