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Post by Deleted on Oct 7, 2016 3:25:18 GMT
It was said that Hit-Wizards had their own beds reserved in St. Mungo's and if it was going to prove true for any of them, it was going to be true for Oliver Clarke. The man took risks, it made him good at his job with a high success rate but it landed him in the hospital quite a lot. This time something strange bit him as he was making entry at a known Death Eater's suspected hide out. At least he thought he was bitten, it was dark and then there was a sharp pain at his wrist and now he was laid out on a hospital bed. Humming. Ollie hummed to himself, propped up on a stack of pillows with his arm in bandages that were quickly soaking through with a sickening green pus. The Hit-Wizard was soaked in a layer of sweat, temperature high and hands trembling from the effects of whatever was currently coursing through his veins. A little thing like poison couldn't get easy going Ollie down. His Healers didn't much feel like humming though, they were growing frustrated with his half delusional instance that all he needed was another bandage and he would be fine, none of this potion mumbo jumbo. He was manly, he needed to get back out there and finish the 'hit' he started. Dark wizards weren't going to arrest themselves, after all. The Healers finally had enough after he started serenading the witch who tried to coax him into drinking a series of antidotes in the hope that one might mitigate the bite. The next person through his door was Eoin Cavanaugh , a pint sized pharmacist with a big Irish temper and Ollie had the distinct impression that he was less than thrilled that his potions were going to waste. Ollie wasn't familiar with the wizard and maybe it was poison making him light headed and loopy but he thought he might like to. The scruffy faced wizard sat up straighter in his bed, grinning broadly as he crooned out a "Helllllooooooo." He was sweaty, febrile and oozing... who could resist that? |
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St.Mungo's
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21 years old
Hufflepuff Alumnus
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Gen
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Post by Eoin Cavanaugh on Oct 8, 2016 21:10:35 GMT
Eoin was rather tired of stubborn people. Mali, bless her heart, was stubbornly holding on to her hope and sanity, but that was the only person he had room for - not the Aurors, not the press, not Tristan who stubbornly clung to his ideals - and he was unwilling to take another. Particularly a patient.
Patients often gave Eoin sass - but they only did it once. Having expounded upon the importance of finishing the course of potions I prescribed or not hiding your pills under your bed, you idiot, the patients would not do it again - or they'd leave the country, because Eoin's wrath was a terrible thing. It appeared, today, that he was going to have to read yet another patient the riot act, because a harassed Healer had appeared in his pharmacy and asked Eoin, hopefully, to help out with a Hit-Wizard who wouldn't take his medicine.
Stubborn people, honestly.
Eoin, clutching the medicine, whirled through the hospital until he came to the bite ward, asked a terrified looking aide for directions to the Ministry idiot who'd gotten themselves in trouble, and sailed through the door, quite imposing even with his small stature, nose piercing and purple-painted nails. He paused at the end of the bed, pursing his lips thoughtfully, and was interrupted by the (admittedly, handsome even though he looked a mess) wizard's drawn out greeting. Eoin paused. "Hello, Mr..." he peered at the chart. "Clarke." He pointed at the other man's chest accusingly, raising one eyebrow. "Is there a good reason you don't want to take your medicine? Are you allergic, perhaps? I hope there's a good reason, because you just might hurt my feelings if you keep insisting on dying from poison."
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Post by Deleted on Oct 10, 2016 15:23:53 GMT
The man who ruled the pharmacy with a well manicured fist darkened his doorway and stalked straight to the end of his bed. How convenient, to have a bed handy and someone he might want to... nap...with so close. The purple nails were charming, and a good color on the pharmacist. He could appreciate a good sense of style even if his consisted of comfortable blue jeans, a worn leather jacket and lots of knit hats. The pretty man apparently didn't know his name, having to consult a chart. Ouch, Ollie really thought they had something in their imaginary thirty second romance. "Ollie." he corrected, wiping the sweat from his brow. The Hit-Wizard was definitely a catch with half his body fluids currently leaking out of him. "Just Ollie."
The pointed finger was... intriguing, coaxing a grin out of the Hit-Wizard. So this is what being a nuisance got him, he'd have to resist his treatments more often. The grin nearly turned into a super frown at the implication that he might hurt the man's feelings. Ollie sad. But he saved it at the last minute with a cheesy attempt at a pick up line. "Well if I'd taken the potion you wouldn't be down here, would you? I'd say having you stand there is reason enough. I like having handsome men beside my bed almost as much as I like having them in it." He intended to scoot over in bed and pat the newly vacated space enticingly but the poison coursing through his system made him clumsy almost as much as it made him bold and Ollie understimated the space he had, scooting right on out of the bed.
He hit the ground with a spectacular thump and promptly wobbled on up to his feet like nothing happened. When he was sure that he was upright, Ollie half strutted, half teetered on over to the pharmacist, gently prying the medication from the man's hand. "If I survive the bite..." It was a flesh wound, he wasn't terribly concerned. He'd survived worse, even if his head felt swimmy and he might pass out in the near future. Just a flesh wound. Right. And he felt terrible because he was catching a cold, not because he was poisoned by whatever managed to get it's teeth in to him. Ollie uncorked the bottle, eyeing the contents. "I'm going to have to take you out, you know... for saving my life." With a wink he pressed the bottle to his lips and downed the potion.
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St.Mungo's
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21 years old
Hufflepuff Alumnus
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Gen
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Post by Eoin Cavanaugh on Oct 23, 2016 6:36:20 GMT
If Eoin could have heard Ollie's rambling thoughts of romance, he may very well have been distracted from his mission of justice and restoring the natural order of his pharmacy. However, he was on a mission - and wasn't a mind reader, sadly - and so he missed these ramblings, though he did not miss the fact that the Hit-Wizard was quite handsome. Eoin had an eye for Tristan that sort of thing. "Ollie," Eoin agreed, propping one hand on a hip. His voice became very sweet, though still laden with iron. "Just Ollie, why don't you take your medicine?"
The poor man was delirious. Flattering, but delirious, Eoin decided, cheeks going a bit pink at the line. "Did you get bitten with me in mind?" he started to ask, but Ollie was scooting over... and over... Eoin held out a hand to stop him. "Wait-"
He cringed a little as the man hit the floor. Apparently he was rather resilient, however, for he was by Eoin's side in an instant, presenting him with an up-close and personal look at Ollie's shiny, earnest face. "If?" Eoin murmured, raising an eyebrow. "How about you take your medicine and it's a date." He was only half-coaxing - he was a little bit curious to know how cute Ollie was when he wasn't dying. When the Hit-Wizard took the bottle, Eoin stepped a bit closer to steady him, worried for him falling again. "Let's just sit down for a moment," He coaxed, steering him back towards the bed. "One more, okay?" he produced a smaller vial with a bright blue potion. "It tastes better, I promise."
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Post by Deleted on Nov 5, 2016 1:04:35 GMT
"Why yes." No. "Yes, I did." No he hadn't but he would go with it. He was trying to be suave and charming which was really hard when a nasty venom was working it's way through one's system and making them sweaty and light headed so he would take any help he could get. The Pharmacist was very attractive after all, something he'd want to get to know when he wasn't teetering on delirium. But delirium was delirium and he deliriously thought he was doing spectacularly with his lines and flirtation. "I thought to myself as I was traversing a dark wizard's lair while being all heroic: How can I guarantee that I would see the very attractive pharmacist? And then... it hit me! Rather, bit me." That rhymes, Poet Ollie with his not so smooth pick up lines. He tilted his head, eyeing the man's newly pink cheeks. "You look good in pink. I think you'd look good in everything. Or nothing."
"If." he confirmed with a nod, leaning closer. "I'm very poisoned, you know." Dying, maybe and it would be very rude to decline a dying man's request for a date. But he wasn't declined, Eoin the Pharmacist actually agreed. Score one for Ollie. He was on a roll, it seemed. He downed the potion as prompted and made a face. Terrible stuff, life saving potions were. He was guided back towards the bed, wobbling uncertainly on his feet as his vision went a little cloudy and he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. It was racing and if you'd ask him it was more due to the company than the venom ravaging his system. The displeased face soon turned into the trade marked super frown.
The blue potion didn't look nearly as bad as the first, and he rather liked the color. "Two potions means two dates." he declared before taking the vial, fingers brushing against the man's hands. "And maybe breakfast. I make the best waffles on this side of the Thames." The Hit-Wizard eyes the potion with his spectacular frown still prominent on his face. Suddenly, Ollie felt very very tired and like lifting the the vial to his lips would be a difficult task. Half way to his lips he dropped his arm back down to his side declaring "I'll take this right after a nap." Nap sounded wonderful, a good long one. With that, he flopped down, flat on his back on the bed.
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