Always Raise Your Hand In Class
Apr. 28th, 2009 04:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crankyoldmanFandom: Repo! The Genetic Opera
Characters/Pairings: Nathan, random 'students'
Rating: PG-13 (it's highly suggestive of violence though)
Summary: When he'd made a quip once to Marni about being a med school instructor in his old age, he hadn't quite had this in mind.
Notes: Totallyfinesharpedge's fault.
"You can't just go slashing without any definite idea. This is just like surgery, only you don't have the luxury of a prepped slab and adequate lighting. Precision and efficiency are key."
When he'd made a quip once to Marni about being a med school instructor in his old age, he hadn't quite had this in mind. Nathan was currently being reminded of why he didn't particularly like to speak much; these candidates just wanted to get in on the action and had probably ignored everything he'd just said. Sure, there were times--more and more common these days--when he wasn't exactly sure when he'd gotten that spine out or packed away that kidney, but it was still surgery. He could ignore the rest much easier now, but these stupid... count to ten.
The bound person he was trying to use as an example was wiggling again, too.
"Alright how many of you have actual medical training." Two raised their hands, rather timidly. What do you expect of me, Rotti, when you give me nothing to work with?
"Right." He sighed.
"Hey when are you going to stop yapping and get slicing?" Snickers followed the question, and Nathan surmised that the owner of the voice had to be in the back. Just like the dropouts from med school, really. He always rather hated them.
Nathan calmly walked up the steps of the aisle, hands folded behind his back. He could feels the eyes as heads turned to follow him, curious as to what the quiet-spoken 'instructor' was going to do about the outburst. He could tell by the young man's posture that he was the one who had spoken--all slouchy and smirky, like any other punk.
He wasn't sure what he intended to do about it until his voice dropped as he spoke. "You'd like me to get slicing?" Blink and you miss it.
Nathan found himself adjusting the holds on the demonstration person, a silent and very attentive group of soon to be Repos seemingly hinging on his every action.
"Any questions?"
He couldn't help but grin a little at all the hands that shot up in response. Maybe if they were good, he'd let them clean up the mess in the back.
Characters/Pairings: Nathan, random 'students'
Rating: PG-13 (it's highly suggestive of violence though)
Summary: When he'd made a quip once to Marni about being a med school instructor in his old age, he hadn't quite had this in mind.
Notes: Totally
finesharpedge's fault."You can't just go slashing without any definite idea. This is just like surgery, only you don't have the luxury of a prepped slab and adequate lighting. Precision and efficiency are key."
When he'd made a quip once to Marni about being a med school instructor in his old age, he hadn't quite had this in mind. Nathan was currently being reminded of why he didn't particularly like to speak much; these candidates just wanted to get in on the action and had probably ignored everything he'd just said. Sure, there were times--more and more common these days--when he wasn't exactly sure when he'd gotten that spine out or packed away that kidney, but it was still surgery. He could ignore the rest much easier now, but these stupid... count to ten.
The bound person he was trying to use as an example was wiggling again, too.
"Alright how many of you have actual medical training." Two raised their hands, rather timidly. What do you expect of me, Rotti, when you give me nothing to work with?
"Right." He sighed.
"Hey when are you going to stop yapping and get slicing?" Snickers followed the question, and Nathan surmised that the owner of the voice had to be in the back. Just like the dropouts from med school, really. He always rather hated them.
Nathan calmly walked up the steps of the aisle, hands folded behind his back. He could feels the eyes as heads turned to follow him, curious as to what the quiet-spoken 'instructor' was going to do about the outburst. He could tell by the young man's posture that he was the one who had spoken--all slouchy and smirky, like any other punk.
He wasn't sure what he intended to do about it until his voice dropped as he spoke. "You'd like me to get slicing?" Blink and you miss it.
Nathan found himself adjusting the holds on the demonstration person, a silent and very attentive group of soon to be Repos seemingly hinging on his every action.
"Any questions?"
He couldn't help but grin a little at all the hands that shot up in response. Maybe if they were good, he'd let them clean up the mess in the back.