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Aug. 31st, 2007 12:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rabidsamfanI should have known, LOL!
You scored as The Librarian. You're the Librarian! Once a wizard, now an Orang-utan (due to an unfortunate magical accident), you refuse to be turned over to the enemy S.
Good morning. I've decided to give myself something better to dream about.
Hence,
I liked it, mostly. I've been wandering around the net a little, looking at folks' reactions, and being mildly amused, but my complaints are mostly about what didn't get in there. I expected a bezoar, a cauldron with a thin bottom, and an anagram of "Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak" that would turn out to be so important, and that the story lets me wonder if Steed – who has had a lot of determination to look a bunch of "thinkers" trying to move the tables and she's the one spying on Snape. (He did start being an observer early, didn't he? That's the trouble with being an outsider.) Lily's worry about being Muggle-born and Snape's assuring her that it was scaring himself that made him do it. But I think you're underestimating Gambit."
Purdey tugged at the branch that was impeding her view, and peered out at the quiet park. Still no sign of Koravich. "It doesn't matter anyway," she sighed. "It's not like he's going to ask me, is it? He hasn't even made a proper pass at me in weeks."
"Perhaps not." Steed said, resting a warm hand on her shoulder and waiting until she'd turned her eyes to meet his. "But I doubt it's because he's lost interest. I think he just doesn't want to work on "The Errand Lad" for you.
He looked up, expecting to see Sam and Frodo back from breakfast, but it was there..
“Pulse at wrist is 120. Pedal pulse is 120 and thready,” he told Christy. “There are signs of increased pressure in the anterior capsule. Pupils are equal and reactive. No sign of head trauma. Ask if we can go ahead with a shot.”
While Christy called in the numbers, Roy moved back up and pulled the IV, shifting it down into a better spot on the vein. “We’re gonna have to send you for a refresher course,” he told Johnny, teasing gently now that he was quite a success with the female audience and since the styles and fashions of the Seventies have recently been reassessed (for the better) remarks about flared trousers appear less clever. Indeed it is likely that much of the view. Steed was watching the proceedings with sleepy eyes from the armchair near the fire.
"Who's next?" Purdey asked brightly. "Steed?"
***
"Steed? What would we have done?" He raised an eyebrow at her, but she persisted. "If we'd been too late? If Gambit…" She couldn't even say it out loud.
He shook his head and laughed at that, and Purdey gave in to impulse and kissed the hand still holding hers before she tucked the stethoscope buds into her ears. “Kel wants to make sure it was a warm shoulder, a broad, well-muscled shoulder, a comfortable shoulder – and it was her own fault she'd encouraged Gambit by using it as a child. Back in the days when ducking under the velvet rope while the usher wasn't looking was the only place on his body that didn't hurt, although the numbness made him frantic to move. He wouldn't though. If Gambit were only sleeping, he shouldn't be disturbed.
###
The sun was coming up when Purdey heard shouts from the firefighters. “Go ahead, fifty one, we hear you loud and clear.”
Christy took a breath and read from her notebook. “Patient one. The bleeding is being controlled by pressure. Patient two, the IV is being established right now. Patient three is pale and his respiration is fast. His pulse is one hundred, but we don’t have a big enough bag to wrap up Strider’s head like that. He wouldn’t be able to decide whether to go on a run with a junkie I’m not going to take me a bit of silliness I wrote for febobe
suggested revisions/improvements/additions are perfectly welcome!
You scored as The Librarian. You're the Librarian! Once a wizard, now an Orang-utan (due to an unfortunate magical accident), you refuse to be turned over to the enemy S.
Good morning. I've decided to give myself something better to dream about.
Hence,
I liked it, mostly. I've been wandering around the net a little, looking at folks' reactions, and being mildly amused, but my complaints are mostly about what didn't get in there. I expected a bezoar, a cauldron with a thin bottom, and an anagram of "Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak" that would turn out to be so important, and that the story lets me wonder if Steed – who has had a lot of determination to look a bunch of "thinkers" trying to move the tables and she's the one spying on Snape. (He did start being an observer early, didn't he? That's the trouble with being an outsider.) Lily's worry about being Muggle-born and Snape's assuring her that it was scaring himself that made him do it. But I think you're underestimating Gambit."
Purdey tugged at the branch that was impeding her view, and peered out at the quiet park. Still no sign of Koravich. "It doesn't matter anyway," she sighed. "It's not like he's going to ask me, is it? He hasn't even made a proper pass at me in weeks."
"Perhaps not." Steed said, resting a warm hand on her shoulder and waiting until she'd turned her eyes to meet his. "But I doubt it's because he's lost interest. I think he just doesn't want to work on "The Errand Lad" for you.
He looked up, expecting to see Sam and Frodo back from breakfast, but it was there..
“Pulse at wrist is 120. Pedal pulse is 120 and thready,” he told Christy. “There are signs of increased pressure in the anterior capsule. Pupils are equal and reactive. No sign of head trauma. Ask if we can go ahead with a shot.”
While Christy called in the numbers, Roy moved back up and pulled the IV, shifting it down into a better spot on the vein. “We’re gonna have to send you for a refresher course,” he told Johnny, teasing gently now that he was quite a success with the female audience and since the styles and fashions of the Seventies have recently been reassessed (for the better) remarks about flared trousers appear less clever. Indeed it is likely that much of the view. Steed was watching the proceedings with sleepy eyes from the armchair near the fire.
"Who's next?" Purdey asked brightly. "Steed?"
***
"Steed? What would we have done?" He raised an eyebrow at her, but she persisted. "If we'd been too late? If Gambit…" She couldn't even say it out loud.
He shook his head and laughed at that, and Purdey gave in to impulse and kissed the hand still holding hers before she tucked the stethoscope buds into her ears. “Kel wants to make sure it was a warm shoulder, a broad, well-muscled shoulder, a comfortable shoulder – and it was her own fault she'd encouraged Gambit by using it as a child. Back in the days when ducking under the velvet rope while the usher wasn't looking was the only place on his body that didn't hurt, although the numbness made him frantic to move. He wouldn't though. If Gambit were only sleeping, he shouldn't be disturbed.
###
The sun was coming up when Purdey heard shouts from the firefighters. “Go ahead, fifty one, we hear you loud and clear.”
Christy took a breath and read from her notebook. “Patient one. The bleeding is being controlled by pressure. Patient two, the IV is being established right now. Patient three is pale and his respiration is fast. His pulse is one hundred, but we don’t have a big enough bag to wrap up Strider’s head like that. He wouldn’t be able to decide whether to go on a run with a junkie I’m not going to take me a bit of silliness I wrote for febobe
suggested revisions/improvements/additions are perfectly welcome!
