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Dinah Lance blondecanary
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The Clocktower, Saturday night ( after all fighting)
So. Fisher had come back and helped them because Savant had let slip that his wife and kids were in the wine cellar. He was now very sorry and definitely paying back the money he'd been about to take off with.

Savant had been hauled off by the police, along with Creote, on charges of kidnapping and blackmail, and of course, evaluation for Arkham.

Dr. Leslie Thompkins had set Dinah's thumb (ow), and put casts on both legs (Ooooooow), pronouncing the damage as hairline fractures of the tibia. No concussion, but an ice-bag for her throat. And a certain amount of drugs that had her feeling sulky and loopy when Dr. Leslie said she had to stay off her feet for six weeks.

"Don't you dare get up," Barbara threatened her. "You have telekinesis and we have a butler. Stay on the couch!"

[open for any phone calls, texts, etc.

Priestly had spent his day being frankly overwhelmed by the whole "college" experience. Which was, he supposed, the whole point of the pre-orientation orientation in the first place.

He'd been assigned a room in the dorms for the weekend, but since he was planning -- well, hoping, really -- to get his own place in the city instead of living on campus, he wasn't really interested in hanging around them on a Saturday night. Especially not when there was someone in the city who he'd much rather spend his time hanging around with.

So that'd be Dinah's phone, happily ringing away.

Good thing she didn't have a concussion.

Dinah TK'd the phone to herself, and then, because she was doped up, happily answered, "Hiiiii Priestly! Hi!"

"Hiiiiiiii," Priestly said back. ". . . Are you drunk?"

"Nope! I'm just-- feeling good!" Dinah tried to tone herself down by laying down, and asked in voice slightly muffled by pillows, "What're you doing?"

"Dodging teenagers." He was going to spend his whole college experience feeling old before his time. "Hoping to escape without doing a keg stand. Are you talking through a cushion?"

"Next to one?" Dinah pulled herself back a little, with a small "Ow!" as she bumped her hand. "... we never did keg stands, did we? I think I'd remember that." Maaaybe.

"Ow? What ow?" This conversation was becoming suspicious. "You are drunk, aren't you."

In case anyone needed further proof of Priestly's complete lack of psychic ability.

"I could be drunk--"

"No you can not," said Helena's voice in the background.

"--shush! An' I just bumped my hand. That's all." No she is not slurring her words!

"You're being weird," Priestly said. "Should I come over?"

"Noooooo!" Wait. That would make him think she was all rejecty and weird about what happened over six weeks ago, now. "Maybe?"

"YES!" came two voices in the background now.

"Hey!... you gotta promise not to freak out."

Edited at 2014-05-25 02:44 am (UTC)

Yeah, that was helping. "Freak out about what?"

"There was a fight... thing." Um. "My legs are in casts. But I'm feeling okay, I swear. This just happened, the guys are in jail, it's all cool." Yup. 'Cause, the bad guys were in jail. "So, it's all good."

That loud snort in the background was Barbara, in case you were wondering.

"Oh, well, so long as the bad guys are in jail," Priestly said. "You broke your LEGS?"

Well. That was loud.

"Nooo! They broke them! With a big stick!"

So reassuring.

"I just broke my thumb. Well, dislocated it. Getting out of the handcuffs," Dinah said earnestly.

Priestly facepalmed. Hard. "And how, exactly, am I supposed to not freak out about that?"

"Dude," whispered one of his dormmates for the weekend. "Old guy's girlfriend is into some kinky shit."

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