Dr. John H. Watson, M.D. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lightconductor) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2023-12-02 05:42 pm
lightconductor) wrote in ph_logs2023-12-02 05:42 pm
(no subject)
Who: Watson (lightconductor) & you
What:A bit of a catch-all for general introductions and discussion
When: Backdated through November and into December, idk, time is soup
Where: Mostly downtown
Warning(s): Probably some alcohol/tobacco use. Will add as needed.
Downtown; apartments
There is nothing about Watson that is loud and attention-getting, and he settles into town... quietly. At least he hasn't been left to starve, which is a pleasant surprise. He finds himself settling into a modest flat downtown, nothing extravagant but also nothing too run-down, a few rooms he can call his own. It feels very lonely, but that, at least, is something he's used to.
He's quiet as he comes and goes, but there's a limp in his step and the quiet tap of his cane, and a new face is bound to stand out. Perhaps he's struggling with a few purchases that are necessary to keep himself fed and groomed, or perhaps he (regrettably) bumps into a new neighbour.
Clinic
Opening a clinic seemed the thing to do. It's an unassuming place, but it's at least something to wake up to and make himself do, which seems important just at the moment. He puts a little sign in the window -- he is admittedly putting off the task of seeing about making something permanent, as that seems to be admitting he'll be here for the foreseeable future -- and sits at his desk. The clinic has, at present only himself as staff.
He writes often while he waits for visitors or patients, scribbling into a small notebook with a thoughtful expression, and looks faintly startled if someone comes in when he's focusing hard.
The Oak & Iron, evening
Watson, for all his many and varied talents, is not much of a cook. He can handle a sandwich, or something very simple along those lines, but he can't quite live on sandwiches alone. He's a frequent sight in the Oak & Iron, most nights. Habitually he sits with his back to the wall, when he can, and quietly eats his dinner while he watches the other customers as discreetly as he can.
Wildcard
I am easy to find.
lightconductor) & youWhat:A bit of a catch-all for general introductions and discussion
When: Backdated through November and into December, idk, time is soup
Where: Mostly downtown
Warning(s): Probably some alcohol/tobacco use. Will add as needed.
Downtown; apartments
There is nothing about Watson that is loud and attention-getting, and he settles into town... quietly. At least he hasn't been left to starve, which is a pleasant surprise. He finds himself settling into a modest flat downtown, nothing extravagant but also nothing too run-down, a few rooms he can call his own. It feels very lonely, but that, at least, is something he's used to.
He's quiet as he comes and goes, but there's a limp in his step and the quiet tap of his cane, and a new face is bound to stand out. Perhaps he's struggling with a few purchases that are necessary to keep himself fed and groomed, or perhaps he (regrettably) bumps into a new neighbour.
Clinic
Opening a clinic seemed the thing to do. It's an unassuming place, but it's at least something to wake up to and make himself do, which seems important just at the moment. He puts a little sign in the window -- he is admittedly putting off the task of seeing about making something permanent, as that seems to be admitting he'll be here for the foreseeable future -- and sits at his desk. The clinic has, at present only himself as staff.
He writes often while he waits for visitors or patients, scribbling into a small notebook with a thoughtful expression, and looks faintly startled if someone comes in when he's focusing hard.
The Oak & Iron, evening
Watson, for all his many and varied talents, is not much of a cook. He can handle a sandwich, or something very simple along those lines, but he can't quite live on sandwiches alone. He's a frequent sight in the Oak & Iron, most nights. Habitually he sits with his back to the wall, when he can, and quietly eats his dinner while he watches the other customers as discreetly as he can.
Wildcard
I am easy to find.