taxonomites | 03: [Location: Caritas] + [Accidental Visual] Preparing for the Storm

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03: [Location: Caritas] + [Accidental Visual] Preparing for the Storm

It's during the day and Caritas is technically closed right now. Casey's been moving the crates of booze up from the basement to the main floor. It's tiring work and he's due for a break. His black tee shirt is starting to cling to his back and he could do with a damned coke. Still, Lorne's been hurrying the whole bunker idea along and Casey trusts that if the demon thinks the sky's gonna start falling soon, it's time to start battening down the hatches.

He sets a crate down and pauses, reaching behind himself to work out a crick in his back. He's not getting any younger.

[OOC: Mainly for all the peeps wanting to help fortify Caritas, but open really to anyone who wants to drop by or troll Casey *wink*]

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"I'm a doctor," she said, rather pointedly. Martha set her box of supplies down on the bar, then took a step - the steady step of someone who was used to dealing with occasionally unwilling patients - forward.

"Lorne asked me to bring some medical supplies for the bunker," she added, by way of an explanation. Even as a student, she hadn't made a habit of wandering into bars during the day. She'd been a bit too sensible for that.

"Really? Well you're a darn sight prettier than the last one."

He's actually referring to The Doctor, but he doesn't know there's a connection. Casey doesn't back away. If there's one thing he respects, it's a professional. If she wants to examine him, he's not gonna stop her.

"That's a sound idea, we're probably gonna need it if things are as dire as he says they're gonna be."

Lorne bustles in from the extension in the back where he lives. He has a pitcher full of icy lemonade, condensation pearling on the outside, and a bowl of baby carrots. "Thought you might need a pit stop, buddy," he calls out. He's been in the back taking inventory of all the crates coming up from the basement and trying to figure out where to put them, but he feels bad that Casey's been stuck with all the heavy lifting.

He notices Martha and beams. "Look, if it isn't my favorite lifesaver! Noah Wylie, eat your heart out. So glad you came." He puts the lemonade and carrots on the counter, grabs a glass from behind the bar, and pours some for Casey. "How're things going?"

"Yeah? Well, it saves developing a bedside manner," she joked. She assumed he was referring to a doctor - a doctor that could have been an alien or could have been from a different point in history - that had since left the city. When Casey didn't pull away, she placed a hand on his back. She wanted to find out if he'd pulled a muscle or tired himself out. "Does this hurt?"

"Hi, Lorne," she said, smiling, though Casey still held her attention at the moment. "I've brought over the first box of medical supplies."

He gives one of his trademark grunts of amusement. Then grimaces slightly at the slight pressure.

"A little. Nothing I can't handle."

Then he flashes a grateful smirk at Lorne for bringing refreshments, accepting the glass of lemonade and downing half of it in one go.

"Great timing there, com padre. Taking a short break. Worked up quite a thirst. Once I'm done with these boxes I figure I'll start laying down some sand bags to shore up the walls. Also at the entrances. Gotta also think about rations, water supplies, bedding, what people are gonna use for a latrine..."

It wasn't an ideal examination, but Martha was used to working in frequently awkward and occasionally difficult circumstances. From what she could tell, Casey had simply tired himself out. She'd encountered a lot of patients like that during her time in UNIT.

"You just need a rest," she said, and, thankfully, Lorne seemed to have had the same idea. "I've put water purification tablets in with the medical supplies, but I don't think that'll be enough."

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