doctornota

[doctornota]

@indomitableblackdragon liked for a starter

"IT DOESN'T SNOW HERE, DOES IT?"

The question is poised without much thought given to doing so, staring out the cafe window with a furrowed brow like the cloudy sky itself has personally wronged him. The longer Leonard spends stuck here, the more the months tick by, the more he longs for the Enterprise: the beautiful, climate-controlled Enterprise. He's from Georgia, for gods sake, he's only prepared to handle two weather cycles; ungodly heat or pouring rain. Out of the corner of his eye he glances to the other person in line with him. "Please tell me it doesn't."

[doctornota]

[ txt ] i'm sure you will. but at least then, when you inevitably get into some sort of crash, it's your own fault and not mine

Not that it would be Leonard's fault if Jim crashed his hoverboard anyway, but he'd feel a sort of secondhand responsibility for gifting it to him even when he knows how Jim is and - anyway, he's looking to remove himself from that picture preemptively, that's all.

Donning bright yellow the way he is, Jim is easy to spot from down the sidewalk, and Leonard flags him down with a lifted arm. "Don't you have any other friends to hang out with yet?"

[ txt ] and why shouldn’t i

[ txt ] this place just got so much better

[ txt ] can i have the

[ txt ] aw. lame.

[ txt ] guess i’ll just have to get my own

[doctornota]

CHIN TUCKED INTO HIS COLLAR, hands shoved into his pockets, Leonard tries to make short work of finding his way home. It's perhaps the worst part about late nights at the hospital. Everything crashes down around your shoulders all at once there at the end of it. The city ought to consider itself lucky it doesn't have to watch him crawl his way home, because, frankly, he's seeing the appeal. Or at least his aching feet are seeing the appeal.

Preoccupied as he is with the running mantra of you can't crash until you get the hell home, there's a couch in the apartment, Leonard just about jumps out of his skin at the approach of a... d..og. Fox? Some sort of animal, waltzing right on down the middle of the sidewalk like he has business to attend to. Yeah, the city's weird, it's never going to stop being weird, but this is a first for him, even here. He stares, not even trying to hide his blatant surprise, as a bedraggled little puppy is set at his feet.

It's pathetic-looking, like the strays near the farm back home. He's crouched down in an instant.

"I'm, uh..." not a vet, he almost says, but it's not necessarily true anymore. The Enterprise has tended to its fair share of animals out there. How many famines have they stopped because they stepped in to cure some space cows? Plenty of aliens are shockingly canine-like... and he can't just leave it. "...Something like that," he decides finally, and swings his bag off his shoulder to fish for his medkit.

"I'm sure we can find a veterinary clinic somewhere around here, but let's stabilize the poor thing, first." He doesn't like the look of its back legs and, anyway, knows he's going to be more useful to the vets if he can give them a good run-down on its condition. Where'd he put his tricorder..? "Where'd you find the little guy?"

Finally seeing a someone walking these mostly empty backstreets, Enki turns and makes a beeline for them, carrying his precious cargo in his mouth. Trotting up to the human, he carefully places his burden - a scraggly looking white pup - at the man's feet before clearing his throat politely.

"Excuse me, do you know where one might find the nearest physician? This animal appears to be malnourished and injured."

@doctornota

[doctornota]

@solspectre liked for an event starter

THERE'S ANOTHER CRUNCH OF DELICATE GLASS as Bones tries - and fails, again - to pick up the hyposprays littering the ground around him.

He doesn't remember this ever being so difficult before. He carries his medkit everywhere with him. Into firefights, more often than not. It gets dropped a dozen times a day. He's never struggled this damn much just to pick everything back up, but when the third thin little device gets bent between his fingers as he attempts to carefully pinch it up off the ground, he finally gets fed up and simply tosses it - well, chucks it, really, it's a little more aggressive than he intended - across the street.

Stupid. Stupid human-designed medical equipment. Why the hell does he even have these? Fuming, he fixes a scowl on the poor soul who evidently just had to witness the temper tantrum. "What're you looking at? Mind your business."

[doctornota]

REFINED? THAT'S A FIRST. Rugged, sure, he's heard that one, looking like shit the way he did after the divorce, unshaven and living at any bar with cheap enough whiskey to drown in. His family name might be just about the only part of him that's refined, though. Leonard Horatio. Jesus H Christ. The look Elijah gets over his shoulder is incredulous. The pointed look-over, the bow? Theatrics, theatrics. Go figure he'd be a musician.

"I won't be here all too often," he confesses with a shrug, leaning on the counter himself with his arms folded. "I'm a doctor," and though this hospital won't let him get away with bringing a cot into his office to sleep on the way he used to do back on the Enterprise, Leonard always finds a way to live at the job. "Uh, I cook sometimes, but not often. If I do, it's all yours," seeing as he forgets to eat often enough that half his meals go to waste. "Christ, I don't know. Haven't had to deal with roommates since the Academy. Look, you be normal, I'll be normal. That means no... lute playing before sunrise, please, for the love of god."

The last guy he shared a wall with— well, the last guy he shared a wall with was Spock, so there's nothing more he can say about that.

The bard preened, eyeing the other up and down. Well, now that he's gotten a better look, he was certainly a looker now wasn't he ? Yes, Elijah could absolutely get used to this... It's definitely not the worst room and board situation he's been in. Actually, in comparison to most, this was quite the cozy setup ! " Leonard McCoy, a fine name for one such as yourself. Rugged, yet refined as well. "

Bones was offered a bow at the waist, before stepping to the counter just to he could shift his weight and lean forward on his elbows, chin in his palms.

" So, any household rules you wanna make me aware of, or are you gonna let me find out as we go ? "

[doctornota]

and just when you think you’ve hit rock bottom, you want to fuck a blonde guy

[doctornota]

SOME DAYS HE REALLY WANTS TO PUNCH THAT STUPID LOOK OFF HIS FACE.

"Hell no, I'm not offering. But maybe if you're serious about paying..." it doesn't change the fact that he'd rather Jim just let the whole thing lie, leave him well enough alone, but he knows that's not an option when it comes to Kirk. And Bones, despite his best efforts, also knows he's somehow all too easy for the human to read. He dithers for a while anyway, turning a bottle - because yes, he'd demanded a whole bottle, hope Jim is good to field the cost of that one - idly between his hands.

"Shit. It's nothing, Jim. Woke up with a damn stupid idea in my head I can't shake loose." His gaze focuses somewhere just over Jim's shoulder, trying to grasp onto the tenuous memory - dream, more appropriately - before it leaves again, but nothing substantial comes from it. "Got up late. Told myself I was gonna miss a call with my— with Jo." It goes without saying that he doesn't know a Jo. "Won't leave my head. Mind just likes findin' new nothings to stress about, like there wasn't enough already."

A dopey smile stays planted on Jim's face as he produces the phone from his pocket. He gently nudges Bones' shoulder with it , not at all oblivious to the fact that he'd rather be left alone. It's not uncommon for him to seek out places like this , out of desperation or just because he has nothing better to do. He can't say he blames him , but he can't just let him sit alone with his thoughts forever. But he supposes that's hypocritical of him , too.

He pulls the phone away and transfers some dust to the bartender. ❛ Well , since I'm here , why don't I pay , huh ? ❜ There's a small pause as he thinks about his question. After a while , his shoulders raise into a haphazard shrug. ❛ Not that I know of. But if you're offering . . . ❜ His joking smile quickly fades , and instead is replaced with one a lot more genuine. They haven't known each other very long , but it's the small things that give it away. Not just the fact that he's at a bar in the middle of the day - although that's certainly one of the major ones. And Jim's not ❛ C'mon. There's gotta be something up. ❜

[doctornota]

PLOTTER / RELATIONSHIP AD.

interested in forming a dynamic with bones? not sure where to go with it? down below you can find some ideas on how to jumpstart an interaction or develop a relationship with him! additionally, this post serves as a permanent starter call; by liking this post, you're basically saying you're cool with me jumping into your inbox on meme days. i may also reach out in dms or on discord to talk about thread ideas or touch base on where you'd like things to go between our muses.

brief cliffnotes: Leonard McCoy is a doctor, and that is the first and most important thing anyone will ever learn about him. he's also a scientist, a whiskey enthusiast, a father, and very, very divorced. he's abrasive, argumentative, and grouchy, with a fiery temper and a persistent anxiety towards most aspects of his life and everybody else's. he's also perhaps the most loyal member of the Enterprise crew and deeply empathetic: the medical work he cares so much about also regularly drives him to tears. get past his act and he's a good old fashioned romantic, a country boy, and very good at dispensing advice or just offering his company when it's needed.

COLLEAGUES & PATIENTS

For now, though he will likely eventually open up a private practice of some sort, McCoy works at one of the hospitals in the Golden Ward. Actually, he practically lives there. He feels the most at home when he's working, and because of his multidisciplinary background is experienced with just about every treatment under the sun. Back home, he spent his free time developing new surgical techniques and vaccines for dozens of different species. This is going to be the easiest way to run into him. Just know that if you bring in a long-term medical mystery he will absolutely take you on as a patient and do his level best to help to the point of being insufferable. He has a tendency to hover. Around other doctors and nurses, specifically, he is much more relaxed ( as relaxed as McCoy ever gets, of course ) as medicine is one of the easiest topics for him to talk about. You will learn more about him if you work with him than if you just try to approach him outside of the job.

FRIENDS

Although McCoy is perpetually grouchy, it's just a well-honed act he's very fond of putting on. Stick around him long enough and within just a week or two it's easy to see that the core of him doesn't lie far beneath the surface at all: he's a man who feels things very deeply and spends a lot of time worrying about the people he cares about. Because of that, he's incredibly loyal. It's difficult to lose his friendship once you've put the work into earning it. You'll need to be able to handle some verbal barbs - he loves arguing and complaining just for the fun of it, but despite all his whining will still willingly allow himself to be dragged around. He also loves a good drink and will hang around bars when he has free time. You can find him in the Golden Ward most frequently, as he lives and works there, but he's also fond of the beach when it's warm enough. If you're trying to take him anywhere, though, just know that it's going to be an uphill battle to get him to step foot into a car. He surprisingly thrives around people who are a little more impulsive, to balance out his tendency to fret and over-think. Spontaneous people who can push him out of his comfort zone and give him plenty of things to really bitch about, though if it leads into thrill-seeking just know you're going to get an earful every time you end up hurt. He's also pretty good at drawing quieter or more introspective people out of their shell and appreciates having someone calmer to turn to.

ENEMIES

Bones tries not to make snap judgments - he's had a low point or two throughout his life - even when people irritate or rub him the wrong way, so it genuinely takes real villainy to earn your way onto his shitlist. He doesn't tolerate purposeful pain being inflicted upon others, and most importantly won't stand for medical malpractice of any sort. He values his oath above just about everything else. He's not above getting into physical fights when he's standing up for something ( or someone ), or even just if someone ticks him off badly enough. However, he will try to avoid killing if at all possible.

RIVALS

As mentioned, Bones loves verbal sparring. Arguing, swapping insults, debating, writing scalding research papers back and forth... you name it, he feels most invigorated when he is engaging in someone that can match his level of intelligence and push back on his viewpoints. When he's interacting with his closest friends, it can be difficult for outsiders to tell if they dislike one another or not. It pushes him to reconsider his opinions and further his own critical thinking and research - this sort of dynamic works out well with other scientists or just headstrong opinionated people.

MENTEES

Bones is arguably one of the best doctors in Starfleet— Chief Medical Officer on the flagship throughout the duration of its entire five year mission. Though he doesn't have the personality of a teacher ( his temper flares too easily ), he's wholly devoted to the art of healing and would be completely invested if someone else wanted to learn medicine, or surgery, or xenobiology... listen, he's got a lot of specializations under his belt. If you can handle a Gordon Ramsay-esque approach to teaching, he's available.

FAMILIAL

Leonard has a complicated relationship with his own family, having cut himself off from most of them following the death of his father ( and being cut off from the other half following his divorce ). Still, he holds fond memories of them and is a family-oriented man - it's just shifted more to found family these days. Back home he has a daughter who he raised to age six, lost custody of, and rekindled a bond with now that she's a teenager: he's got a major soft spot for kids and is much kinder to them than he is to most other people. He was raised in rural Georgia and had a pretty traditional home life, but their doors were open to every neighborhood kid in a ten mile radius, so if you're close to him in a platonic or familial manner you can probably expect him to swing by to bring you dinner or let you crash at his place ( unfortunate news for anyone who might be rooming with him ) when needed.

LOVERS

Bones hasn't officially sworn off long-term commitment following his divorce ( which he swears he's over ), but he struggles deeply with the prospect of dating ( or, god forbid, marriage ). Because of that he'll rarely take that step unless the other person initiates it. He's more open to things on a casual level, though he's objectively terrible at flirting. And pretty bad at navigating that sort of thing in general; he catches deep feelings too easily.

[doctornota]

@maledinner

SO MAYBE IT'S TIME TO PUT MORE THAN JUST BEER IN THE FRIDGE.

Here's the thing: Leonard is perfectly fine with letting his own nutrition slip a little every now and then ( he's busy, this place is weird; he buys something from the break room vending machine every day and picks up food on the way home, so he's not doing too terribly ), but he draws the line when it comes to Jim. Jim, who went the long way back from class most days during the Academy to make sure Bones had bought himself a sandwich and stashed ration bars in his medical bag but was so damn sneaky all the time that Leonard could never quite figure out how the hell he was surviving. For somebody with what seemed to be such a deep-seated anxiety regarding food - the cause of which Leonard has never identified, but he's a doctor, not a psychologist - he was real damn evasive about his own habits.

They had worried about one another too often back then. It had gotten old fast. On the Enterprise, they ate most of their meals together. The replicators made it easy. Here? Christ alive, he's gonna have to pick up cooking again, if that's the only damn way to ensure they're both not regressing into starving alcoholics. It's been five years and some change since those days - he stands in the meat aisle with Spoogle results for easy cheap meals pulled up on his phone and wonders just how many ground beef-based dishes they can tolerate in the span of one week. He's there for a while, which is the only reason the other man in the aisle catches his attention at all.

He's been standing there even longer than Leonard has, hands folded behind his back, gaze intently focused on the refrigerated raw chicken. He watches him out of the corner of his eye; is he new around here? Just plain broke? He looks a little too well put together for either of those options.

"It all mostly tastes the same," Leonard advises him finally, because it's kind of weirding him out, and points to chicken breast and then chicken thigh to indicate what he's talking about. "Might as well just flip a coin for it. Or buy whatever's cheaper. That's my approach."

[doctornota]

BONES ISN'T SURE HOW MUCH MORE OBVIOUS he can make the warning signs short of building a big-ass, neon keep away; as if anybody hitting the bar at this early in the damn morning is in any sort of mood for conversation. But go figure Jim Kirk's the only human stupid enough to ignore that - he'd probably ignore the actual sign, too.

"Maybe by your standards." Bones snorts, not even acknowledging him with so much as a look, but he also doesn't shove him backwards off the bar stool so nobody can claim he's not merciful. "Don't you got a hot date to be on, or something? Whatever it is you usually do around here." He's only ever known Kirk as owner of a ship and a whole lot of shit to run away from, or towards, or wherever he's going - he struggles to envision what he does with his feet planted firmly on the ground like this and figures that frankly it isn't his business to worry about it.

Not Jim's business to worry about him, either, but here they are.

@doctornota liked for an event starter.

❛ Bones ? ❜ There's not another Krogan around , so it's not like he's hard to miss. He makes his way to the bar , sidling into one of the adjacent barstools. He taps his fingers against the bar's wooden surface , turning to look at him. For a split second , he swears he can put a human face to him like he's supposed to be one ―― brown hair and all. It's such an outrageous thought , however , that he just shakes his head.

❛ A little too early to be hitting the bar , don't you think ? ❜ It's hypocritical of him to ask and he knows it. It's even more hypocritical when he waves down the bartender to order a drink for himself.

[doctornota]

ALTERNATIVE ALLEGORY: MASS EFFECT.

a krogan doctor, which probably tells you all you need to know regarding how he feels about the state of his species

specialized in disease research but effectively gave up that pursuit after failing to save the life of his father. instead switched to field medicine, hopping ships and stations, but feeling unfulfilled with his work

met one jim kirk on the floor of a bar one day and allowed himself to be gaslit persuaded into joining his crew in exchange for unrestricted access to the ship's medical equipment

still a grumpy bastard, still a bleeding heart, now able to punch people through a wall. retains only the vaguest memories of his original universe, particularly the fact that he had a daughter

I'm also going to use this as a STARTER CALL for this event, capped at 3 for now!

[doctornota]

[ txt ] starfleet should not be keeping track of that and neither should you.

[ txt ] they gave me a hoverboard, so I don't see why they wouldn't give you a car

[ txt ] unless they suddenly get a whole lot nicer and decide to spare me the heart attack by banning you from the roads

[ txt ] and before you ask, I already gave the hoverboard away. you're not getting that

He knows him better than they'd both care to admit. It's not unlike their academy days where their dorm room's fridge only had beer in it for the first few months - the only difference this time being that they don't actually live together.

[ txt ] where's the fun in that

[ txt ] i swear i set a starfleet record. most shirts ripped in a single mission

It's not like he's going out of his way to rip his shirts. They just get caught in the crossfire. It happens.

[ txt ] i mean

[ txt ] compared to the real thing all of those racing games are kinda boring

[ txt ] but i guess it's the closest i'll get to driving a car

[ txt ] bones do you think i can get a car here. or a motorcycle.

[doctornota]

[ txt ] hilarious.

[ txt ] but yes

Well. Whiskey mostly. He'd needed something stronger upon first arriving. He kind of still needs a better supply or the strong shit, but there's plenty of bars around his apartment, for better or worse, so the need hasn't been that dire.

[ txt ] you know most people actually manage to go months if not years at a time without ripping any shirts

[ txt ] so not sure what the hell you're doing wrong

But then he asks that question often where Jim is concerned. For someone so competent he is, at times, shockingly bad at keeping himself in one piece.

[ txt ] air hockey? really? thought you'd be all over those racing games

[ txt ] what'd you do with that starter balance they gave us ? spend it all on beer ?

That's one of the good things about this place , he supposes. They gave them houses , a bit of money , food . . but that's the bare minimum , isn't it ? Besides , no matter how many good things about it there are - a cage is still a cage. That's something he tries not to think about too hard as he closes the door to his condo behind him.

[ txt ] great

[ txt ] might as well get it out of the way now. maybe once i have some new outfits i can rip the shirt for good times sake

Arcades. Now that's an archaic concept. But he'd be lying if he said the prospect didn't get him excited.

[ txt ] guess we'll find out. i've always wanted to try

[ txt ] what was it

[ txt ] air hockey

[doctornota]

HE ARCHES A BROW RIGHT BACK AT HIM. "SOMETHING LIKE THAT."

Hey, at least the guy's got a sense of humor. Better that than intense judgment ( and lord knows if Leonard was the one on the other side of this equation there would be intense judgment ). He gives him a scan up and down. Looks human, or at least humanoid enough - that's good, in the event he needs first aid. Seems friendly, which could go either way as there is most definitely such thing as too friendly in Leonard's book. And then the musician thing... ehhh.

"I'd make for a pretty piss-poor delivery boy," he informs him, smile tugging at just the corner of his lips. Yeah, Leonard decides, he's had worse roommates. "Leonard McCoy, and I'd say that one depends on how well our definitions of a good tune align, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt just on account of the hair."

...It is pretty great.

" Mmm? Hello- " Elijah stared at the man, a bit dumb founded. Okay, so his roommate was a bit of an alcoholic, or maybe he just didn't need to eat...? Either way, the bard rested his hands on his hips and raised a brow at the doctor. Well well, at least he was quite easy to look at. " Ah yes, truly the bachelor's life blood, yes ? "

...He definitely wasn't going to survive off of beer alone... and beer in cans no less! No class in this world it seems. Where does a bard have to go to get a proper barrel around here, yeesh.

" I can only assume you're the other fine occupant here, hm ? I can't imagine a delivery boy also putting things away... No matter, I am Elijah Torvis, and my friend, I do hope you enjoy a good tune every now and again, because I come with a knack for music, a fine lyre, and great hair. "

[doctornota]

Oh my god I can never let Jim meet this guy

[doctornota]

[ txt ] beyond me how you can even afford it. i was dead broke when i got here

He sends Jim over the address to one of the places he's been frequenting, which he hopes doesn't reveal too much about just how much he's been slacking in the nutrition department. In his defense, he's been digging his heels in, dead-set on not allowing this place to feel normal. The apartment can't be home, the kitchen can't be used - if he falls into a routine it'll be a little too real and up until now he couldn't bear the thought of that. Of really being stuck here, maybe forever. Rebuilding a life from scratch all over again. He didn't think he was going to survive the effort it took last time around— and last time around, Jim had been there.

[ txt ] i'm afraid you just sealed your fate. trust me, the uniforms get some Looks

[ txt ] you're lucky i like you enough to tolerate hitting a mall

And then, because Leonard could never claim to be anything but a complete and total pushover where Kirk is involved:

[ txt ] think they still have arcades here? place seems trapped in the past enough for it. i mean that's the thing you do when you visit malls, right

[ txt ] really? because you tell me i’m wrong at least once a day.

[ txt ] do you want free food or not

Jim’s already halfway out the door before he gets the confirmation - even if he didn’t say yes he would’ve been there anyways. He looks at his Starfleet uniform for a second. He really needs to invest in some normal clothes.

[ txt ] sounds good to me

He laughs. There’s a part of him that’s surprised that Bones isn’t afraid of toasters. Or microwaves.

[ txt ] if you want to do something boring i need to get some clothes. all i have right now is the uniform

[doctornota]

[ txt ] you're wrong about most things. i just try not to remind you to spare your ego

He leans back in his chair, runs his hands down his face, and resigns himself to the fact that he will not be getting any reading done for the better part of the day. Now where did he put his jacket...

[ txt ] what sort of man do you take me for that i can be bribed so easily

He locks the apartment door behind him, stares at the sky for a while in a silent prayer for insight into why exactly his willpower is equivalent to that of a wet paper towel where Jim Kirk is involved, and hopes Jim hasn't already run off to god-knows-where.

[ txt ] fine but i want curry

[ txt ] and whatever we do i am vetoing that stupid whateverspace thing, jim, i'm serious

[ txt ] with my luck they'd lose my body while i was in there and i'd have to live out the rest of my days inside a damn machine

[ txt ] i thought you could still be saved. guess i was wrong

There's nothing stopping him from just going over to Bones' apartment right now and dragging him out - but if there's one thing he hates as much as space itself , it's technology. And while Jim does derive great pleasure from annoying him , he knows better than to try and force him to do something he doesn't want to. Hell , they can't even get him on the transporter half the time.

[ txt ] riveting.

[ txt ] look. you come out and do something with me and i'll buy you lunch

[ txt ] deal?

[ txt ] you can even choose what it is what we do. i dont care