Justine Florbelle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beastlybeauty) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-09-14 06:15 pm
beastlybeauty) wrote in thecapitol2014-09-14 06:15 pm
So help me, please doctor, I'm damaged
Who: Justine and YOU
What: It's time for everyone to get their physical! Let the doctor games begin.
Where: In Justine's office
When: Spanning all last, this, and next week. Or whenever your character is eventually dragged to their physical.
[Threading out your character's physical is not a requirement! However, if you think that your character may be affected seriously or you just feel like threading it out, this log is for you. Even if we thread here, please make sure you have filled an OOC form here.]
The office is completely sterile, but it has ivy patterns in tasteful greens, golds, and silvers climbing up the walls. There is a small desk in the corner, stacked with thin files full of notes. If one slid over to check the papers spread over the files, they'd only find messy but impossibly complex models of hybrid DNA strands, drawn idly as she was thinking of something else--the blueprints of new muttations, but no one would be able to figure that out without a brilliant Capitol-level understanding of DNA and how the chemical bonds translate to physical traits.
Justine sits at the desk, waiting for you to arrive.
What: It's time for everyone to get their physical! Let the doctor games begin.
Where: In Justine's office
When: Spanning all last, this, and next week. Or whenever your character is eventually dragged to their physical.
[Threading out your character's physical is not a requirement! However, if you think that your character may be affected seriously or you just feel like threading it out, this log is for you. Even if we thread here, please make sure you have filled an OOC form here.]
The office is completely sterile, but it has ivy patterns in tasteful greens, golds, and silvers climbing up the walls. There is a small desk in the corner, stacked with thin files full of notes. If one slid over to check the papers spread over the files, they'd only find messy but impossibly complex models of hybrid DNA strands, drawn idly as she was thinking of something else--the blueprints of new muttations, but no one would be able to figure that out without a brilliant Capitol-level understanding of DNA and how the chemical bonds translate to physical traits.
Justine sits at the desk, waiting for you to arrive.
no subject
"Dave Trouble Strider." He sounds that off with absolutely no hesitation. It's a lie, of course, but his middle name is a source of speculation for many. "Sixteen. December third, Nineteen ninety-five." Probably ancient history for her.
no subject
"Sixteen." She murmurs softly to herself as she writs down his answers, then looks up at him with a small smile. "Are you sexually active, Dave?"
She is perfectly happy to screw with him in kind.
no subject
"And I don't look a day over thirty." He adds, only to make himself more comfortable. This of course means nothing when she throws him a question like that and his face heats a little for it. "I wish." Is the answer he blurts out, and he's never been more glad for his sunglasses. "No. Nada. Nothing. Just a string of disappointments." Stop talking, mouth.