HH_mirror

(( OOC: While Riget/The Kingdom was filmed in 1994, and its sequel in 1997, I should warn anyway that there will be spoilers here. Riget II was only issued on DVD in North America this year. ))



Another day, another morning conference. Morning conference had gotten a lot less irritating since Hook had come to his little understanding with Helmer. (Stig Helmer, head of neurosurgery, was not quite the bane of Hook's existence. Hook might be the bane of Helmer's existence, however. He was probably running neck and neck with Dr. Moesgaard for that honor.)

Only then Helmer had taken that little trip to Haiti. It had been a very, very brief trip, and the man had returned ... weirdly smug. Hook didn't like the look of it.

Provoke him. Then you'll see if he's bluffing. Thus counseled Mogge, dumbass intern extraordinaire — Mogge, whose chief virtue lay in the great good fortune of having been born the son of Dr. Einar Moesgaard.

Mogge, this is either very very clever or very very stupid, Hook had replied. Then he had gone off to morning conference and proceeded to provoke Helmer. It was something Hook did well.

He had yet to draw the connection between the funny taste of Helmer's coffee and the later events of the day. All he knew was that he'd begun to feel rather unwell. Morning conference ended and everyone went about their work. One moment Hook was trying to resuscitate old Mrs. Drusse, the next he was in need of resuscitation himself.

And now, it seemed, he was no longer in The Kingdom.

He was lying prone on a cold stone floor. His colleagues were nowhere to be seen or heard. He remembered the sensation of someone closing his eyelids for him, as one does for the dead. He had been unable to move. Now, though, he opened his eyes.

He sat up, stretched his long legs, laced his fingers together and stretched his arms too, cracked his knuckles. He looked around.

As he rose from the floor and dusted off his scrubs and coat — white, all of it; every doctor at the Kingdom wore white, eyestrain be damned — Jørgen Krogshøj began to laugh. It was not a hysterical sound. It was a low rasping chuckle, something like the bottom of a boat scraping against stones, and it was rich with genuine amusement.

( one, two, three, four, five, six, seven ... )
(( "I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. Krogshøj.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. Krogshøj.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. Krogshøj.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. Krogshøj" ))

((( A few OOC notes )