(Untitled)

[john_kramer]

John wandered into the clinic, a look of pain on his face. He slumped heavily into a chair and started massaging his temples. He wasn't sure who to talk to but he needed to talk to somebody soon, the pain in his head getting worse by the second - so much so that he could barely see for it now. He had picked up a PINpoint but was unsure how to use

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[myfathersthesis]

"Sir?" A tired-looking man with messy hair is looking at John alertly. He's not quite what one expects of a doctor, or at least a doctor's appearance, but his manner is professional as he approaches slowly.

[john_kramer]

He smiles as much as he can to the other man but it's clear that he's in very great pain; "Hello. Are you a doctor? My name is John Kramer, I'm in need of painkillers. My own are back where I came from and my head..." he reaches up to massage his temples again but it isn't working, the pressure building in his head to the pain of unbareablity, and he hopes to all that will listen that he doesn't seize. "I...and anticonvulsants, because I think I might..." he takes a deep breath, holding it and letting it out again.

[myfathersthesis]

He reaches out to John-- to John's head-- but deliberately stops his hand about halfway.

"We can do that. May I assess the damage with my abilities? I only deal with biological and chemical processes, I'm not telepathic."

Often, as now, the people who come to the Clinics are in dire enough need that it simply isn't timely to move them to a more private room; the receptionist is used to it, as are several of the waiting room patients.

[john_kramer]

He, out of instinct more than anything else, moves away slightly as the man's hands come towards his head but when he asks to help then he nods, moving back again. "Yes. It's inoperable, but if you could possibly see if it's spread? I..." he was slurring his words now, his eyes unfocused, and it really wasn't going to be good in a couple more minutes.