[SCENE] Diego and Eldoon in "Dr Strangelove" or "Three Flavours of Diego"
2010: "mild and almost sweet, with notes of cocoa"
Diego: *it is a bright summer afternoon in July of 2010, and Diego Armando is outside of the Eldoon Clinic, a cup of coffee in his hand and a grin painted on his face. Finally getting proper health insurance from Grossberg, he has been informed that this clinic comes most recommended by their provider - "cheap as you like" was the phrase used*
Diego: *Diego sips from his coffee as he looks up at the door - and then clutches at his chest as it feels like his heart does a somersault, surely coming loose from everything and killing him on the spot - but when he does not keel over, he resumes his former posture, free hand in his pocket, and steps through the doors to the clinic*
Receptionist: *The lady behind the desk is making a valiant effort to transcribe some manner of illiterate scrawl from a file, and is so focused on what appears to be an obscenity she doesn't notice the bell ring over the door.*
Diego: *He steps over to the counter, taking a moment to sip from his coffee - without feeling as if he's dying, natch - before putting on his smile and lowering his cup* Hello, there.
Receptionist: *The old lady looks up from her work* What do you want? You want the doctor? Tell him not to write like a chicken with a pen between its toes, why don't you. What's your name?
Diego: *doesn't flinch - even after only two years on the bench, he's too cool to flinch* Diego Armando, ma'am. And I'll be sure to tell him, when I see him.
Receptionist: You do that, and you can tell him I said it. These doctors... *Angrily she punches the patient's name into the computer* You've never been here before. *Out of her mouth, it almost sounds like an accusation*
Diego: *rests his forearm on the counter and leans down, looking her dead in the face and not quite grinning, his expression roguish and lopsided* No ma'am.
Receptionist: Oh you boys. Think you're immortal. Never go to the doctor. Let me tell you something, even young boys get sick, deathly sick. *She shoves a clipboard under his nose* You fill this out and tell us what's not-wrong with you, and then the doctor will be ready for you.
Diego: *he takes her pen, still nearly smiling, and his hand literally flies across the page - the caffeine high is so intense his hand is nearly a blur, and though he should be shaking his cursive is neat and compact. After some thirty seconds he sets the pen down and hands the clipboard back to her*
Receptionist: *The lady takes it, and looks over it critically* Hmmph. At least you have good handwriting. Not like doctors, oh no. You must be a lawyer.
Diego: Yes, ma'am.
Receptionist: Hmmph. Well, you go sit in exam room one, and the doctor will bring you his verdict in a minute. Hmmph.
Diego: Yes, ma'am. *stands, sips from his coffee, and winks* You have a good day, now. *walks through the door to the hallway*
Eldoon: *Exam Room 1 is just inside the hallway, but Diego barely has time to close the door behind him before the eager young doctor is coming through the door with his new file* Tachycardia, heart palpitations, twenty-four years old...
Eldoon: *He looks up from the file to his patient* ...And you're drinking coffee?
Diego: Sure am, Doc. *grins* Sorry. Like it too much to go anywhere without it.
Eldoon: *quirks an exceptionally bushy eyebrow* You don't think maybe... that's part of the problem? How much are you drinkin?
Diego: *Blinks, momentarily taken aback* ...It hadn't occurred to me, actually. *looks at the mug in his hands* I think this is my nineteenth cup so far today.
Eldoon: *Blinks. And blinks again.* Oh sweet Jesus... How... Okay. Okay. I am going to assume that's a gross exaggeration, and listen to your heart, now.
Diego: ...Actually, it's not. But okay. Do you want me to take off my shirt?
Eldoon: ...I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. *He takes his stethoscope out of his pocket and snaps the earbuds into place.* Yeah, yeah, take off your shirt. Give the ladies a thrill.
Diego: *unbuttons his vest and sts it aside before unbuttoning his shirt* Your receptionist says try not to write like a chicken with a pen between its toes, by the way.
Eldoon: Feh. What does she know about chickens, she's lived on Pico Boulevard her whole damn life. *He places the bell against Diego's chest* Breathe deep for me.
Diego: *fights the urge to scoff and breathes in deep*
Eldoon: *He checks his heart from various angles, and finally drops the bell and declares* Son... I seen people who'd eat their way through a salt mine, what have less worrying heart rhythms than you. You do know coffee is a stimulant, right?
Diego: I know it's got caffeine, yeah. *there is a barely perceptible tic in his right eye* I didn't figure it would ever be dangerous or anything.
Eldoon: Feh. You may as well be doin' lines of coke, for all the coffee you claim you're drinking. You sure you're not exaggeratin'...? *It's then he thinks he sees a twitch* Look me in the eye.
Diego: *does so, setting the coffee cup down* *after about ten seconds his eye tics again*
Eldoon: *Eldoon stares intently into his face for a moment, then, he turns away, picks up the coffee cup on his exam table, and walks over to the sink with it.*
Diego: ...Doc, what are you doing with my coffee?
Eldoon: Cuttin' you off, that's what I'm doing. Your eye has a tic, your hands shake, and you tell me honestly you've already had eighteen cups today? That shit is wrong, right there. *He overturns the cup*
Diego: *breathes inward in a hiss, watching the black gold poured down the sink, unmoving* That was very good coffee.
Eldoon: Good. I'm glad your last cup was a good one.
Diego: *licks his lips slowly, in thought - his cool demeanor is abandoned; nobody's spoken to him with legitimately greater authority in what feels like a long time* You're going to have to try harder to cut me off entirely, you know.
Eldoon: *He turns back to the table, and thrusts his chin out in a defiant stance* How about if I tell you coffee will kill you, son? Kill you. You're twenty-four years old. You want to die this soon?
Diego: *glances off to the side in thought, then grins right at Eldoon's face* All right, I admit you're trying harder. Will it really kill me?
Eldoon: *His mouth sets* You tell me this, son: when your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest, and you decided to call the doc, did you think you was dying?
Diego: ...Maybe.
Eldoon: Feh! There you go, then. You gonna quit, or not?
Diego: ....I really like how it tastes.
Eldoon: Hmmph. I'd tell you to switch to decaf, but then you'd be in here six months later with a bleeding ulcer. *He makes a few chicken scrawls on the chart*
Diego: *his face turns contemplative and he begins to speak low, under his breath, mostly to himself*
Eldoon: ...What was that, son?
Diego: Trying to justify cutting back in a way that's in keeping with my character, Doc. *grins* I suppose the constant overconsumption of it means that I'm not really trying to appreciate it; I'm just being gluttonous.
Eldoon: ...You were a philosophy major, weren't you? Not that you haven't got a valid point. *Eldoon hands back the empty cup* I'll admit, cold turkey's a hard route to take.
Diego: English Literature, actually. *takes the cup back and looks at it, frowning* I have no intention of dropping it. Like I said, I drink it for the taste. Brewing it is something of a hobby of mine.
Eldoon: *He... looks blank* You mean the machine doesn't take care of that for you?
Diego: *grins wide, cocking his head back, eyes bright* I actually have nearly two dozen of my own blends, now. It's fairly involved stuff - I've been drinking it black up to this point, but recently I started experimenting with different amounts of cream and sugar.
Eldoon: Feh. Some people and their hobbies. You should see the little wife's knitting basket. *Eldoon shakes his head* I can't say I care much for sweet stuff. Give me salty broth any day.
Diego: ...Salty, hmmm? *grins* All right. Either way, I'll cut back. Try to enjoy it more than just drinking it.
Eldoon: Mm-hmm. My old man has the saltiest broth in L.A. Why, it's saltier than-- well-- salt. *He finally pockets his stethoscope* You should try it some time. Liberal arts major, expensive hobby-- bet you need a cheap lunch once in a while.
Diego: Dr - Eldoon, right?
Eldoon: That's right, son. I'm the only doctor here at Eldoon Clinic, you know.
Diego: Well, pardon my rudeness - I guess you know my name, though. Diego Armando, employee of Grossberg Law Offices.
Eldoon: ...Grossberg. Oh, Grossberg.
Diego: *grins* You know him?
Eldoon: Without violating doctor-patient confidentiality, let's just say... his gut brings him here a lot. So you a clerk, or a lawyer?
Diego: Lawyer. I handle the cases that give the old man his pangs.
Eldoon: *dryly* I'm glad he has someone lookin' after him. I reckon my crack about cheap lunches still stands, though.
Diego: *grins* My negotiating for my salary and cut of the profits is what gives him the rest of his pangs, but yeah, I could always stand to try some good soup. You say your papa sells some good stuff?
Eldoon: My old man? Yeah, he has a noodle cart. Usually parks it down by We-Kill-People Park. Feh. Rotten location that does good business.
Diego: ...Down by the Kitaki mansion?
Eldoon: That's the place. Community gangsters, my ass.
Diego: Well, they're definitely not as bad as some... And your old man runs a noodle shop down there? Codger must have balls of brass.
Eldoon: That's my old man for you. Nobody gets to him.
Diego: ...Apparently not. All right, I'll keep that in mind. And lay off the coffee. I guess that's it?
Eldoon: More or less. You take care of yourself, you can live to be a hundred, these days.
Diego: All right. *rises, offering his hand* Thanks for this. You have a hell of a bedside manner, you know that?
Eldoon: *takes his hand firmly* I'm better by an actual bedside. Maybe you'll see sometime, iffin you lay off the coffee enough to go to bed-- or give yourself a heart attack and come in on a bed.
Diego: *tests Eldoon's grip, and grins when he finds it solid* Ha! Either way. I'll see you around. Anything you want me to say to your receptionist on the way out?
Eldoon: Tell her... No, I'll send her a memo. Or the chicken with a pen stuck in its foot will.
Diego: Heh. Whatever you say. *releases Eldoon's hand, and steps through the doorway* Take it easy, Doc. *walks out*
2018: "Burnt, bitter, and scalding hot!"
Godot: *a winter evening in 2018, the prosecutor Godot walks into the Eldoon Clinic for his regular checkup - coffee cup in hand, no jacket, visor smoldering like coals. It is with a frank, uncaring attitude that he steps up to the receptionist's counter, saying nothing, never grinning, never emoting, just waiting*
Receptionist: *This unfriendly face is obviously known to the receptionist, as she is already typing his name into the computer when he approaches* Mr Armando. The doctor will be with you in just a moment.
Godot: *scoffs* Good. I should hope by now even you would be accustomed to my appearances. I'll let myself in. *and he does so, stepping down the hallway*
Eldoon: *In the usual exam room, Eldoon is thumbing through a newspaper rather than his charts, as his nurse scurries around him cleaning the surfaces for the next patient. He looks up as the door opens.* Come on in, son. Just been checkin' to see if you've killed anyone with that stare lately. *The nurse takes her leave, rather hurriedly; it is possible the receptionist has not been the only one to suffer a tongue lashing from this patient*
Godot: Ha! Not yet, though not for lack of trying, Doc. *slams back the entire mug and tosses it aside - it turns in the air, droplets flying out in an arc, before it lands upright on the exam table, each droplet landing in the mug in turn*
Eldoon: *He lets out a low whistle at this stunt* Your coordination ain't slippin', that's for damn sure. Siddown, son, tell me how you're feeling this month.
Godot: *takes his seat, crossing one leg over the other, grinning wide, looking down his nose, already taking off his shirt* Like a well-oiled machine - which I suppose is appropriate enough. A well-oiled machine running on a very high octane.
Eldoon: Feh. Your body's still runnin' as the lord made it, not some manmade engine. And certainly not one that runs on garbage like that coffee. How many cups are you back up to? *He takes out his stethoscope*
Godot: This one is my twenty-seventh for the day. *sets his shirt aside*
Eldoon: Lord, son, are you trying to kill yourself? After all I done for you? *He places the bell on Diego's chest and listens* But maybe you're tryin' to get an artificial heart, complete the cyborg effect. Be able to say that "Godot" is heartless.
Godot: *the heartbeat is rapid - but clear like crystal, as if he were a marathon runner in his twenty-third mile* Think so?
Eldoon: It's a thought, sure, but I don't know what goes on in your head anymore. I just... don't. *He puts his stethoscope away* It's gonna take more than that to kill your heart, though. You gettin' any exercise other'n the coffee shot put in court?
Godot: I walk a lot. I could go from here straight to the Eagle Mountains, if I wanted. *grins* Interested in coming along?
Eldoon: Eagle... Mountain? *Eldoon looks blank* That's... isn't that close to a five-hour drive? Why would you want to walk there?
Godot: Better: why not, if I can? Ha! The miracle of modern medicine.
Eldoon: Five hour drive... walking not even a fifteenth of the speed... Son, I know I find a new reason to ask this every damn time, but are you crazy?
Godot: "Crazy" is a matter of perspective that no longer concerns me, old man. *pauses, leaning back* Pious Augustus didn't say that, but he said something topically relevant.
Eldoon: *He snorts* And look what became of Augustus. Son, modern medicine can't save you from the path you've been going down.
Godot: *turns his head, still grinning - it is obvious he is looking at Eldoon sideways* Looking to play rabbi?
Eldoon: Feh. You lookin' to be Jewish? *He shakes his head* All I'm saying is, I saved your life for you to live. I don't like what I'm seein' in the papers, in your eyes.
Godot: *the grin flickers - then fades. There is no other response, except the replacement of his shirt over his frame*
Eldoon: You're not as young as you were, but you've still got a future in front of you. You've got a future, and you're burning it down to the socket like frickin' Sweeney Todd. What would your lady friend think of what you're doing now? How do you know that, somewhere out there, you're not hurting her even deeper than a razor can cut?
Godot: *buttoning up his vest he doesn't look at Eldoon, but his voice is altogether too level* Don't talk about what you don't understand, old man. All the hurt in the world has already been done, there: for that woman, I was long dead.
Eldoon: *crosses his arms, and juts his jaw out aggressively* You're the one who don't understand. That woman is dead, she's right beyond your accidentally slitting her throat in your orgy of revenge-- but wherever she's watching from-- if she's watching-- think about what she's seeing. You think she's not mourning you all over again? *He lays his hands on Diego's shoulders* It's not the world's fault that that woman's beyond your reach, son.
Godot: *straightens out the cuffs of his sleeves, taking a moment to fix the buttons before putting his hands in his pockets and looking at Eldoon...and grinning* You know, you're right.
Eldoon: *Surprise is clearly etched on Eldoon's features, but he pats Diego's shoulders all the same* Glad you're seeing sense. You want my advice, if it's closure you want you oughta visit Death Row. Visit-- what's it called. Where your lady's from.
Godot: Not what I meant. *the grins falls away as he pushes Eldoon's hand off of his shoulder, and he stands close enough to look down at his doctor* It's not the world's fault. Right?
Eldoon: *Eldoon's chin juts out again, but it's all he can do to meet the other man's eye* That's just what I'm saying, sure enough. So why does it seem like you're taking it out on the world?
Godot: *his expression doesn't change, but the visor flickers bright* We'll take a look inside my head next time, Doc. I have business to take care of - and don't worry. It's not with the world. *he turns, picking up his cup, and steps out into the hallway*
Eldoon: Well, fuck. *Eldoon snatches up his newspaper, and crumples it in his hand. He is still standing in the middle of the exam room when his nurse comes to wipe it down for the next patient.*
2020: "Rich, never bitter, and smooth as Hell...!" (Yes, Diego is SO the Gevalia Man! xD)
Eldoon: *It is an abnormally hot summer day in 2020, not long after the infamous earthquake and jailbreak, and Dr Eldoon is sitting in his office with the blinds shut and the lights off. He is expecting someone; his receptionist is already under instruction to send that someone straight back to the office, and stall anybody else. He fans himself with the films from the patient's MRI scan as he waits in the dark.*
Diego: *there are three rhythmic knocks at Eldoon's office door*
Eldoon: *Recognising the knock, he calls out unprofessionally* Come on in, you bastard! I been expecting you!
Diego: *the door opens, red lights filling the frame* Ha! That's what I-Jesus Crow, Doc, why in Hell is it so dark? You fall and break your hip in here?
Eldoon: Feh! Cracks on my age put aside, I'd be callin' for you to help me up iffin that was true. Son, it's so hot the fluorescents are making me sweat. Just come in and have a seat. God gave you night vision for this day. *He waves the hand holding the makeshift fan*
Diego: Heh. All right. *shuts the door behind him and steps in, taking his seat across from Eldoon* What kind of news have you got?
Eldoon: *He smooths the films out in front of him* You remember last time we did this, I said I wanted to see you every month so we could put a timetable on the degeneration the poison's been causin'?
Diego: Yeah. *crosses his arms and leans back, exhaling slowly* You couldn't give me an estimation since the gap between my last two scans was so huge.
Eldoon: That's right. Well, when I printed the images from your last scan, the changes were so... dramatic, I had to send 'em out to a neurologist for a second opinion.
Diego: *grimaces, saying nothing*
Eldoon: *Eldoon keeps his face somber as he says* Son, your prognosis is...
Eldoon: ...no longer terminal.
Diego: *flinches and then freezes, not even breathing, the only indicator that he hasn't died of shock being that his visor is still flickering*
Eldoon: You've actually improved since the last scan. The degenerative area has shrunk. *He's struggling to keep a poker face, and it shows in twitches about his eyes* You're not dying.
Diego: *still staring, he reaches up to touch his head, as if he can feel the spot that have stopped dying away* "How the passage of time and love of a daughter can change a man." .... *slowly - very slowly - Diego stands up*
Eldoon: Oh, you English majors. Can't make it through one epiphany without a-- hey, you okay, son? *He stands up quickly, and comes around the desk*
Diego: *when Eldoon rounds the corner, Diego grabs him by the shoulders and kisses his doctor square on the mouth - when he breaks it off he's grinning like the devil, and it's impossible to see but tears are actually running out from under his visor* I think it's safe to say I'm okay.
Eldoon: *Already reaching for the other man's shoulders to steady him, Eldoon clutches at him to steady himself at this surprise attack* ...Well, hmmph. It's lucky I shut the blinds. *He pats the shoulders beneath his hands, roughly*
Diego: *swallows, stepping to the door* Come on. We're- *coughs into his hand and then clears his throat* We're heading out. Any walk-ins you get can wait twenty minutes. I'm treating you and your old man to some ice cream.
Eldoon: *He finally cracks a smile* Nah. Nah, the person you need to take out for ice cream is your little girl. If she's the reason for your turnabout, you need to go home and tell her that, and let her gorge til she's sick. *He pats Diego's shoulders again* Then you can come back and give me the rest of the ice cream.
Diego: *stares back, his grin never breaking in spite of how dumbfounded he is, but after a moment he nods* Thanks, Doc. You... *reaches up and wipes at his cheeks, swallowing and clearing his throat - when he talks again, his voice is level* Thanks.
Eldoon: Aw, son. *gives him a brief, rough hug* I thought the only time a lawyer can cry is when it's over. It ain't over for you, son. Not for a long time.
Diego: Yeah. Heh. *grins, opening the door* Yeah. I'll be seeing you around, Doc. Thanks. *turns and walks down the hall... though by the time he reaches the end he's openly sprinting, and then he's gone*
Diego: *it is a bright summer afternoon in July of 2010, and Diego Armando is outside of the Eldoon Clinic, a cup of coffee in his hand and a grin painted on his face. Finally getting proper health insurance from Grossberg, he has been informed that this clinic comes most recommended by their provider - "cheap as you like" was the phrase used*
Diego: *Diego sips from his coffee as he looks up at the door - and then clutches at his chest as it feels like his heart does a somersault, surely coming loose from everything and killing him on the spot - but when he does not keel over, he resumes his former posture, free hand in his pocket, and steps through the doors to the clinic*
Receptionist: *The lady behind the desk is making a valiant effort to transcribe some manner of illiterate scrawl from a file, and is so focused on what appears to be an obscenity she doesn't notice the bell ring over the door.*
Diego: *He steps over to the counter, taking a moment to sip from his coffee - without feeling as if he's dying, natch - before putting on his smile and lowering his cup* Hello, there.
Receptionist: *The old lady looks up from her work* What do you want? You want the doctor? Tell him not to write like a chicken with a pen between its toes, why don't you. What's your name?
Diego: *doesn't flinch - even after only two years on the bench, he's too cool to flinch* Diego Armando, ma'am. And I'll be sure to tell him, when I see him.
Receptionist: You do that, and you can tell him I said it. These doctors... *Angrily she punches the patient's name into the computer* You've never been here before. *Out of her mouth, it almost sounds like an accusation*
Diego: *rests his forearm on the counter and leans down, looking her dead in the face and not quite grinning, his expression roguish and lopsided* No ma'am.
Receptionist: Oh you boys. Think you're immortal. Never go to the doctor. Let me tell you something, even young boys get sick, deathly sick. *She shoves a clipboard under his nose* You fill this out and tell us what's not-wrong with you, and then the doctor will be ready for you.
Diego: *he takes her pen, still nearly smiling, and his hand literally flies across the page - the caffeine high is so intense his hand is nearly a blur, and though he should be shaking his cursive is neat and compact. After some thirty seconds he sets the pen down and hands the clipboard back to her*
Receptionist: *The lady takes it, and looks over it critically* Hmmph. At least you have good handwriting. Not like doctors, oh no. You must be a lawyer.
Diego: Yes, ma'am.
Receptionist: Hmmph. Well, you go sit in exam room one, and the doctor will bring you his verdict in a minute. Hmmph.
Diego: Yes, ma'am. *stands, sips from his coffee, and winks* You have a good day, now. *walks through the door to the hallway*
Eldoon: *Exam Room 1 is just inside the hallway, but Diego barely has time to close the door behind him before the eager young doctor is coming through the door with his new file* Tachycardia, heart palpitations, twenty-four years old...
Eldoon: *He looks up from the file to his patient* ...And you're drinking coffee?
Diego: Sure am, Doc. *grins* Sorry. Like it too much to go anywhere without it.
Eldoon: *quirks an exceptionally bushy eyebrow* You don't think maybe... that's part of the problem? How much are you drinkin?
Diego: *Blinks, momentarily taken aback* ...It hadn't occurred to me, actually. *looks at the mug in his hands* I think this is my nineteenth cup so far today.
Eldoon: *Blinks. And blinks again.* Oh sweet Jesus... How... Okay. Okay. I am going to assume that's a gross exaggeration, and listen to your heart, now.
Diego: ...Actually, it's not. But okay. Do you want me to take off my shirt?
Eldoon: ...I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. *He takes his stethoscope out of his pocket and snaps the earbuds into place.* Yeah, yeah, take off your shirt. Give the ladies a thrill.
Diego: *unbuttons his vest and sts it aside before unbuttoning his shirt* Your receptionist says try not to write like a chicken with a pen between its toes, by the way.
Eldoon: Feh. What does she know about chickens, she's lived on Pico Boulevard her whole damn life. *He places the bell against Diego's chest* Breathe deep for me.
Diego: *fights the urge to scoff and breathes in deep*
Eldoon: *He checks his heart from various angles, and finally drops the bell and declares* Son... I seen people who'd eat their way through a salt mine, what have less worrying heart rhythms than you. You do know coffee is a stimulant, right?
Diego: I know it's got caffeine, yeah. *there is a barely perceptible tic in his right eye* I didn't figure it would ever be dangerous or anything.
Eldoon: Feh. You may as well be doin' lines of coke, for all the coffee you claim you're drinking. You sure you're not exaggeratin'...? *It's then he thinks he sees a twitch* Look me in the eye.
Diego: *does so, setting the coffee cup down* *after about ten seconds his eye tics again*
Eldoon: *Eldoon stares intently into his face for a moment, then, he turns away, picks up the coffee cup on his exam table, and walks over to the sink with it.*
Diego: ...Doc, what are you doing with my coffee?
Eldoon: Cuttin' you off, that's what I'm doing. Your eye has a tic, your hands shake, and you tell me honestly you've already had eighteen cups today? That shit is wrong, right there. *He overturns the cup*
Diego: *breathes inward in a hiss, watching the black gold poured down the sink, unmoving* That was very good coffee.
Eldoon: Good. I'm glad your last cup was a good one.
Diego: *licks his lips slowly, in thought - his cool demeanor is abandoned; nobody's spoken to him with legitimately greater authority in what feels like a long time* You're going to have to try harder to cut me off entirely, you know.
Eldoon: *He turns back to the table, and thrusts his chin out in a defiant stance* How about if I tell you coffee will kill you, son? Kill you. You're twenty-four years old. You want to die this soon?
Diego: *glances off to the side in thought, then grins right at Eldoon's face* All right, I admit you're trying harder. Will it really kill me?
Eldoon: *His mouth sets* You tell me this, son: when your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest, and you decided to call the doc, did you think you was dying?
Diego: ...Maybe.
Eldoon: Feh! There you go, then. You gonna quit, or not?
Diego: ....I really like how it tastes.
Eldoon: Hmmph. I'd tell you to switch to decaf, but then you'd be in here six months later with a bleeding ulcer. *He makes a few chicken scrawls on the chart*
Diego: *his face turns contemplative and he begins to speak low, under his breath, mostly to himself*
Eldoon: ...What was that, son?
Diego: Trying to justify cutting back in a way that's in keeping with my character, Doc. *grins* I suppose the constant overconsumption of it means that I'm not really trying to appreciate it; I'm just being gluttonous.
Eldoon: ...You were a philosophy major, weren't you? Not that you haven't got a valid point. *Eldoon hands back the empty cup* I'll admit, cold turkey's a hard route to take.
Diego: English Literature, actually. *takes the cup back and looks at it, frowning* I have no intention of dropping it. Like I said, I drink it for the taste. Brewing it is something of a hobby of mine.
Eldoon: *He... looks blank* You mean the machine doesn't take care of that for you?
Diego: *grins wide, cocking his head back, eyes bright* I actually have nearly two dozen of my own blends, now. It's fairly involved stuff - I've been drinking it black up to this point, but recently I started experimenting with different amounts of cream and sugar.
Eldoon: Feh. Some people and their hobbies. You should see the little wife's knitting basket. *Eldoon shakes his head* I can't say I care much for sweet stuff. Give me salty broth any day.
Diego: ...Salty, hmmm? *grins* All right. Either way, I'll cut back. Try to enjoy it more than just drinking it.
Eldoon: Mm-hmm. My old man has the saltiest broth in L.A. Why, it's saltier than-- well-- salt. *He finally pockets his stethoscope* You should try it some time. Liberal arts major, expensive hobby-- bet you need a cheap lunch once in a while.
Diego: Dr - Eldoon, right?
Eldoon: That's right, son. I'm the only doctor here at Eldoon Clinic, you know.
Diego: Well, pardon my rudeness - I guess you know my name, though. Diego Armando, employee of Grossberg Law Offices.
Eldoon: ...Grossberg. Oh, Grossberg.
Diego: *grins* You know him?
Eldoon: Without violating doctor-patient confidentiality, let's just say... his gut brings him here a lot. So you a clerk, or a lawyer?
Diego: Lawyer. I handle the cases that give the old man his pangs.
Eldoon: *dryly* I'm glad he has someone lookin' after him. I reckon my crack about cheap lunches still stands, though.
Diego: *grins* My negotiating for my salary and cut of the profits is what gives him the rest of his pangs, but yeah, I could always stand to try some good soup. You say your papa sells some good stuff?
Eldoon: My old man? Yeah, he has a noodle cart. Usually parks it down by We-Kill-People Park. Feh. Rotten location that does good business.
Diego: ...Down by the Kitaki mansion?
Eldoon: That's the place. Community gangsters, my ass.
Diego: Well, they're definitely not as bad as some... And your old man runs a noodle shop down there? Codger must have balls of brass.
Eldoon: That's my old man for you. Nobody gets to him.
Diego: ...Apparently not. All right, I'll keep that in mind. And lay off the coffee. I guess that's it?
Eldoon: More or less. You take care of yourself, you can live to be a hundred, these days.
Diego: All right. *rises, offering his hand* Thanks for this. You have a hell of a bedside manner, you know that?
Eldoon: *takes his hand firmly* I'm better by an actual bedside. Maybe you'll see sometime, iffin you lay off the coffee enough to go to bed-- or give yourself a heart attack and come in on a bed.
Diego: *tests Eldoon's grip, and grins when he finds it solid* Ha! Either way. I'll see you around. Anything you want me to say to your receptionist on the way out?
Eldoon: Tell her... No, I'll send her a memo. Or the chicken with a pen stuck in its foot will.
Diego: Heh. Whatever you say. *releases Eldoon's hand, and steps through the doorway* Take it easy, Doc. *walks out*
2018: "Burnt, bitter, and scalding hot!"
Godot: *a winter evening in 2018, the prosecutor Godot walks into the Eldoon Clinic for his regular checkup - coffee cup in hand, no jacket, visor smoldering like coals. It is with a frank, uncaring attitude that he steps up to the receptionist's counter, saying nothing, never grinning, never emoting, just waiting*
Receptionist: *This unfriendly face is obviously known to the receptionist, as she is already typing his name into the computer when he approaches* Mr Armando. The doctor will be with you in just a moment.
Godot: *scoffs* Good. I should hope by now even you would be accustomed to my appearances. I'll let myself in. *and he does so, stepping down the hallway*
Eldoon: *In the usual exam room, Eldoon is thumbing through a newspaper rather than his charts, as his nurse scurries around him cleaning the surfaces for the next patient. He looks up as the door opens.* Come on in, son. Just been checkin' to see if you've killed anyone with that stare lately. *The nurse takes her leave, rather hurriedly; it is possible the receptionist has not been the only one to suffer a tongue lashing from this patient*
Godot: Ha! Not yet, though not for lack of trying, Doc. *slams back the entire mug and tosses it aside - it turns in the air, droplets flying out in an arc, before it lands upright on the exam table, each droplet landing in the mug in turn*
Eldoon: *He lets out a low whistle at this stunt* Your coordination ain't slippin', that's for damn sure. Siddown, son, tell me how you're feeling this month.
Godot: *takes his seat, crossing one leg over the other, grinning wide, looking down his nose, already taking off his shirt* Like a well-oiled machine - which I suppose is appropriate enough. A well-oiled machine running on a very high octane.
Eldoon: Feh. Your body's still runnin' as the lord made it, not some manmade engine. And certainly not one that runs on garbage like that coffee. How many cups are you back up to? *He takes out his stethoscope*
Godot: This one is my twenty-seventh for the day. *sets his shirt aside*
Eldoon: Lord, son, are you trying to kill yourself? After all I done for you? *He places the bell on Diego's chest and listens* But maybe you're tryin' to get an artificial heart, complete the cyborg effect. Be able to say that "Godot" is heartless.
Godot: *the heartbeat is rapid - but clear like crystal, as if he were a marathon runner in his twenty-third mile* Think so?
Eldoon: It's a thought, sure, but I don't know what goes on in your head anymore. I just... don't. *He puts his stethoscope away* It's gonna take more than that to kill your heart, though. You gettin' any exercise other'n the coffee shot put in court?
Godot: I walk a lot. I could go from here straight to the Eagle Mountains, if I wanted. *grins* Interested in coming along?
Eldoon: Eagle... Mountain? *Eldoon looks blank* That's... isn't that close to a five-hour drive? Why would you want to walk there?
Godot: Better: why not, if I can? Ha! The miracle of modern medicine.
Eldoon: Five hour drive... walking not even a fifteenth of the speed... Son, I know I find a new reason to ask this every damn time, but are you crazy?
Godot: "Crazy" is a matter of perspective that no longer concerns me, old man. *pauses, leaning back* Pious Augustus didn't say that, but he said something topically relevant.
Eldoon: *He snorts* And look what became of Augustus. Son, modern medicine can't save you from the path you've been going down.
Godot: *turns his head, still grinning - it is obvious he is looking at Eldoon sideways* Looking to play rabbi?
Eldoon: Feh. You lookin' to be Jewish? *He shakes his head* All I'm saying is, I saved your life for you to live. I don't like what I'm seein' in the papers, in your eyes.
Godot: *the grin flickers - then fades. There is no other response, except the replacement of his shirt over his frame*
Eldoon: You're not as young as you were, but you've still got a future in front of you. You've got a future, and you're burning it down to the socket like frickin' Sweeney Todd. What would your lady friend think of what you're doing now? How do you know that, somewhere out there, you're not hurting her even deeper than a razor can cut?
Godot: *buttoning up his vest he doesn't look at Eldoon, but his voice is altogether too level* Don't talk about what you don't understand, old man. All the hurt in the world has already been done, there: for that woman, I was long dead.
Eldoon: *crosses his arms, and juts his jaw out aggressively* You're the one who don't understand. That woman is dead, she's right beyond your accidentally slitting her throat in your orgy of revenge-- but wherever she's watching from-- if she's watching-- think about what she's seeing. You think she's not mourning you all over again? *He lays his hands on Diego's shoulders* It's not the world's fault that that woman's beyond your reach, son.
Godot: *straightens out the cuffs of his sleeves, taking a moment to fix the buttons before putting his hands in his pockets and looking at Eldoon...and grinning* You know, you're right.
Eldoon: *Surprise is clearly etched on Eldoon's features, but he pats Diego's shoulders all the same* Glad you're seeing sense. You want my advice, if it's closure you want you oughta visit Death Row. Visit-- what's it called. Where your lady's from.
Godot: Not what I meant. *the grins falls away as he pushes Eldoon's hand off of his shoulder, and he stands close enough to look down at his doctor* It's not the world's fault. Right?
Eldoon: *Eldoon's chin juts out again, but it's all he can do to meet the other man's eye* That's just what I'm saying, sure enough. So why does it seem like you're taking it out on the world?
Godot: *his expression doesn't change, but the visor flickers bright* We'll take a look inside my head next time, Doc. I have business to take care of - and don't worry. It's not with the world. *he turns, picking up his cup, and steps out into the hallway*
Eldoon: Well, fuck. *Eldoon snatches up his newspaper, and crumples it in his hand. He is still standing in the middle of the exam room when his nurse comes to wipe it down for the next patient.*
2020: "Rich, never bitter, and smooth as Hell...!" (Yes, Diego is SO the Gevalia Man! xD)
Eldoon: *It is an abnormally hot summer day in 2020, not long after the infamous earthquake and jailbreak, and Dr Eldoon is sitting in his office with the blinds shut and the lights off. He is expecting someone; his receptionist is already under instruction to send that someone straight back to the office, and stall anybody else. He fans himself with the films from the patient's MRI scan as he waits in the dark.*
Diego: *there are three rhythmic knocks at Eldoon's office door*
Eldoon: *Recognising the knock, he calls out unprofessionally* Come on in, you bastard! I been expecting you!
Diego: *the door opens, red lights filling the frame* Ha! That's what I-Jesus Crow, Doc, why in Hell is it so dark? You fall and break your hip in here?
Eldoon: Feh! Cracks on my age put aside, I'd be callin' for you to help me up iffin that was true. Son, it's so hot the fluorescents are making me sweat. Just come in and have a seat. God gave you night vision for this day. *He waves the hand holding the makeshift fan*
Diego: Heh. All right. *shuts the door behind him and steps in, taking his seat across from Eldoon* What kind of news have you got?
Eldoon: *He smooths the films out in front of him* You remember last time we did this, I said I wanted to see you every month so we could put a timetable on the degeneration the poison's been causin'?
Diego: Yeah. *crosses his arms and leans back, exhaling slowly* You couldn't give me an estimation since the gap between my last two scans was so huge.
Eldoon: That's right. Well, when I printed the images from your last scan, the changes were so... dramatic, I had to send 'em out to a neurologist for a second opinion.
Diego: *grimaces, saying nothing*
Eldoon: *Eldoon keeps his face somber as he says* Son, your prognosis is...
Eldoon: ...no longer terminal.
Diego: *flinches and then freezes, not even breathing, the only indicator that he hasn't died of shock being that his visor is still flickering*
Eldoon: You've actually improved since the last scan. The degenerative area has shrunk. *He's struggling to keep a poker face, and it shows in twitches about his eyes* You're not dying.
Diego: *still staring, he reaches up to touch his head, as if he can feel the spot that have stopped dying away* "How the passage of time and love of a daughter can change a man." .... *slowly - very slowly - Diego stands up*
Eldoon: Oh, you English majors. Can't make it through one epiphany without a-- hey, you okay, son? *He stands up quickly, and comes around the desk*
Diego: *when Eldoon rounds the corner, Diego grabs him by the shoulders and kisses his doctor square on the mouth - when he breaks it off he's grinning like the devil, and it's impossible to see but tears are actually running out from under his visor* I think it's safe to say I'm okay.
Eldoon: *Already reaching for the other man's shoulders to steady him, Eldoon clutches at him to steady himself at this surprise attack* ...Well, hmmph. It's lucky I shut the blinds. *He pats the shoulders beneath his hands, roughly*
Diego: *swallows, stepping to the door* Come on. We're- *coughs into his hand and then clears his throat* We're heading out. Any walk-ins you get can wait twenty minutes. I'm treating you and your old man to some ice cream.
Eldoon: *He finally cracks a smile* Nah. Nah, the person you need to take out for ice cream is your little girl. If she's the reason for your turnabout, you need to go home and tell her that, and let her gorge til she's sick. *He pats Diego's shoulders again* Then you can come back and give me the rest of the ice cream.
Diego: *stares back, his grin never breaking in spite of how dumbfounded he is, but after a moment he nods* Thanks, Doc. You... *reaches up and wipes at his cheeks, swallowing and clearing his throat - when he talks again, his voice is level* Thanks.
Eldoon: Aw, son. *gives him a brief, rough hug* I thought the only time a lawyer can cry is when it's over. It ain't over for you, son. Not for a long time.
Diego: Yeah. Heh. *grins, opening the door* Yeah. I'll be seeing you around, Doc. Thanks. *turns and walks down the hall... though by the time he reaches the end he's openly sprinting, and then he's gone*