strange:the doctor is out


Sometimes I honestly can’t understand why people hate James Heller. The man is a true poet.

{{ // The Doctor is Out | Soseki & Nancy

     "Mm. I think that’s everything for now.“ Nancy sighed as she looked at all the medicine she’d stocked away, smiling to herself. It was strange to be working in a clinic that wasn’t her home, but if it was going to help further her medical prowess, she was sure she could get the hang of it in no time. When she returned home, she’d be ten times the nurse she was when Jones saw her off! She was sure of it! Still, it was a little lonely. Dr. Klaus was a little intimidating, even outside of acting as her mentor, though he certainly seemed like a kind person underneath it all. She hadn’t gotten a chance to introduce herself to the other townsfolk either, aside from the woman who ran the inn, so she was sure most people didn’t even know she’d arrived in town yet. She’d have to remedy that once she was off work.

Stretching, she went back to checking over a few of the other shipments they’d gotten in, seeing if it was anything she’d know to put away. She’d only just started that day, and Klaus had had to run off to take care of some urgent business, so she was suddenly left to care for any patients that may come in. She was a little thankful he’d let her watch over everything so quickly.

"Oh!” Nancy looked up when she heard the door open, her eyes widening. She hadn’t exactly expected for anyone to come in while she was alone, however. A little excited, she rushed up to the front of the clinic to see a man had indeed entered. “Hello there! I’m so sorry, but it seems Dr. Klaus is out. But if you need something, I’d be happy to help you.” She smiled pleasantly.



#3 you knew there was going to be a Dr. Strange comic eventually

written by Mark Waid and drawn by Emma Rios this short story takes place while Stephen Strange has lost his status of Sorcerer Supreme and is trying to still do some good and ends up getting a girl named Carey involved, only she doesn’t stop looking for him after he’s left and she doesn’t stop abusing some small spells he showed her either. 

Its a great fun and heart breaking mini-series. 

I definitely suggest people check it out if they can.

The letter for Liam had been signed and sealed, her clothes packed neatly in the satchel on her back along with both of his letters, her medical journals, notes from the books in the Library and the rest of the cookies that were forgotten on the floor last night.  She figured Pa would eat them.  With one final look around the room, her eyes falling on that three pointed hat, she smiled softly, remembering the kind breakfast and the note which had graced her morning doorstep.  The meat strips had been salted perfectly, jucy and well done.  The fruit had been the perfect compliment for her early morning jaunt to the library.

She went to the door to remove her signs and suddenly a thought flashed across her mind.  Quickly she set ink to paper.


Going to the Arch a few days to do some research.  Might need someone who knows their way around the town to run some errands while I’m tied up in the Lab.  I’m enclosing one of my Asura Gate passes.  This is for use to Lion’s Arch ONLY and I will expect it to be returned to my possession upon your arrival.  Once in town, simply ask around for Doc Tarper’s place, it shouldn’t be hard to find.  

See you soon,

Dr. Calico Tarper

The letter was signed and sealed with her usual brown wax with flecks of green and gold.  She was just about to leave the room when that hat caught her eye.  “Oh what the hell..” she thought, moving across the room to toss it on over her auburn mess.  It fit pretty well she had to say.

Liam and Mal’s letters were left at the front desk of the Inn, along with a message to any inquiring that if needed to be found she’d be in the Arch for a few days.  The innkeeper nodded and wished her well.  The walk to the gate was brisk, and more than a few heads turned her way as she went, realizing later that she was humming.  Odd…

Her eyes looked up to the offices of the Ministry as she passed through the central gardens of the reach towards the gate, and with a small smile, she stepped through and inhaled deeply the salty sea air of home.

Pavor Nocturnus

Dovevo avere sette od otto anni quando sognai per l'ultima volta il mio mostro personale: invadeva i miei sogni di bimbo sotto forma di una statua africana in ebano che la mia vicina di casa sfoggiava sul tavolinetto d'ingesso. Curioso che a vederla dal vero non mi risvegliasse alcun timore ma che si decidesse a tormentarmi solo in sogno.
Era intagliata in un tronchetto d'ebano di mezzo metro circa con fattezze grossolane e molto simili alle teste dell'Isola di Pasqua, ragion per cui riusciva a nascondersi in un sacco di posti nella mia cameretta, dietro il peluche dell'Orso Yoghi, dentro al fustino del Dash con le costruzioni oppure mi sbirciava da un cassetto lasciato semi aperto.
Quella notte scelse il posto più ovvio, sotto al letto, e quello fu il suo primo errore: ben conscio che mi stava aspettando, non appoggiai i piedi a terra (sapevo che mi avrebbe reciso il tendine di Achille) ma con un salto raggiunsi il centro della stanza; sebbene avessi acceso la lucina sopra il comodino, lui si nascondeva nell'ombra facendosi forte del suo color notte mentre io in ginocchio cercavo di capire in quale angolo fosse. Il secondo errore lo commise quando, presa una decisione inconcepibile per un bambino di quell'età, mi azzannò il braccio che volutamente infilai nelle ombre sotto il letto.
Aveva denti simili ad aghi e ne aveva centinaia, mi morse proprio vicino alle vene del polso e dal rumore che faceva sembrava che ce la mettesse tutta per bersi il bevibile.
Andai lentamente verso il bagno, aiutato dalla luce che mia mamma sapeva dover lasciare accesa in corridoio perché mi addormentassi, infilai il tappo di gomma alla vasca da bagno e la riempii d'acqua.
Il suo ultimo errore fu quello di non staccarsi subito quando immersi lui e il braccio nella vasca ma oramai gli stavo tenendo la testa lucida di sangue premuta contro il polso azzannato e per lui fu questione di istanti prima di non essere più.

Futile sottolineare che fu l'ultima volta che popolò i miei sogni, sebbene successivamente ebbi molto a rimpiangere i morsi legnosi di quel babau quando cominciarono a comparire i Geteit Chemosit ammantati di tenebra o i Lamanti evisceratori.

“You first,” Sherlock says, and John takes the first step up the stairs, left hand on the wall for balance. Suddenly Sherlock is behind him, lifting John’s right arm over Sherlock’s shoulders, letting John lean on him. As long as Sherlock stays a step or two behind, the height difference is negligible, but it’s still a bit awkward, and John can’t help thinking that effectively, all this really means is that if Sherlock falls, John falls too, and vice versa.

But he supposes he knew that already.