deathsdoctor | Appointments 2.0

Appointments 2.0

This post is for threading with Trafalgar Law anytime and anywhere. It can be used for Action or the Ring feature on journals (voice or written) to get in contact with him for personal conversations. This will be used primarily for 'placement' threads such as: someone left a present or 'by the way, come to this party on such-and-such' or the like.

Note: When making a new thread, please title it like such:

[Action, January 3rd]
[Voice, March 8th]
[Written, June 11th]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Being gone for as long as he had meant work had piled up. Paperwork to be precise. While McCoy had taken care of most of it, there was still enough left that Law would be in his office for some time to clean up various odds and ends.

He wished he was on his honeymoon still - the extended trip out at sea meant the sea longing was fierce within him now. But all the wishing in the world would not make it so - neither he or Itachi were allowed any more time out there and it was back in the bubble they went. Sadly, they hadn't gained much on the intelligence front either, but Law would mull over what little they found out to see if it was actually useful.

The pirate's head raises at the sound of footsteps. Listens to them stop outside his door on the second floor. The rapping.

Oh? Someone looking for him?]

Oi, door's unlocked. Come right in.

[He chuckled, pleased that his hunch had been on target, and swung the door open.]

Hey, Doc. [He flashed a grin.] 'Sup?

[Mister Cliff? Not what he was expecting. The man's going to get a quick sweep of Law's gaze to confirm, no, no, this isn't likely a medical call, before the pirate's eye's settle on that paper bag.]

Paperwork. [Dropping a file folder onto a pile of folders.] Paperwork. [And another follows.] And more paperwork. [And there goes the rest of what's on his desk to the pile.] I'd say I'm due a break.

What can I do for you, Mister Cliff?

[The sound of paper hitting paper echoed with the finality of nails being driven into a coffin-- Cliff recognized the sentiment, and the look. A lesser man would have overturned the stack and left the room for a while before attacking that mess. He chuckled sympathetically.]

For one, you can stop with the 'Mister.' This ain't a business call. For two...

[He held up the paper bag.]

I'm here to offer you a break.

Oh, is that what I think it is? [Namely... booze. It could well be muffins, but he's pining his hopes on booze.] Grab a chair.

Depends. [Cliff grinned flipped a chair backwards to flop into.] You thinking of a good, oak barrel whiskey?

[Because, muffins? Please. Did he look like a muffin kinda guy to you?]