ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Milton Milton has been up for hours, for days he's not been able to sleep Gosting through the hallways, shutting his door at strange hours and always with a blade in his hand. He wanders around as if in a daze and finally, tonight he's left his door open as he sits at his roller desk, by the window with a Old Fashioned in his hand and slowly nodding off before starting awake. How long can Milton live like this?
Bart Bart had been as worried as a scientist would be with abnormal behavior, he tries to find the cause instead. The blade is of concern but he doesn't put any credence into such things as curses. Instead he sciences everything, so he eventually just walks right on into Milton's room with his medkit and labcoat on. "Oh good you're already sitting. Let's have a look at you now."
Milton Milton looks up and takes a drink. He's a bit pale, sweaty his eyes a hint sunken. The blade is with him, in front of him. Sitting on his desk. It's a nice, nice blade. Milton smiles towards Bart and shrugs, "I'm fine." He is, hysically, fine but he's not been sleeping. He welcomes his brother over and undoes his collar and cufflinks. "What brings you out of your bart cave?"
Bart Bart almost smiles but then he's examining the man in front of him with more clinical gaze. "You're not." Then a nod, "You do, dear brother. For your listless wandering around with a sword of all things. And the fact that you look less than fine. Now, let me get a look," he says as the kit comes open and he starts on vitals, listening to heartbeat and lungs like a proper doctor.
Milton Milton makes a face but the younger Knox brother languishes in his chair and sets his drink aside. He lets his brother start the exam. It's the nightmares, really, that are exsausting poor MIlton. He realxes back in his chair and lets Bart look him over with ease. The comfort that comes from a lifetime of knowing the man.
Bart Bart goes down the particularly usual suspects and feels under Milton's lymph nodes for a while before finally peeling one eye open and then the other. "You're not sleeping well enough, I believe you're going to start on my strict sleeping regime, along with some aether and tobacco to assist in getting you there. If it's the dreams," like Bart hasn't heard him tossing and turning at night, "Then we'll add a little something to kick off the brain pan vibrations into nothingness, sound good?" he snaps his gloves off and starts digging around for a few vials.
Milton Milton blinks is his brother and sighs as he lists off pharma that's going to be foisted off on him. "Sounds fine, Barthalomew. You know I'll do what needs to get done to be healthier. I say - we ought to see that housekeeper and houseman who offered to work for us. It's getting terribly hard to find anything in this big house between the two of us."
Bart Bart blinks right back, rather unperturbed by his resistance. "Yes, I know, or you'll regret it," he chides before blinking again. "Must we bring this up again? I don't want strange people near my things!" He complains and sighs rather put upon and not at all trying to continue this conversation again. "Why can't you just pay one of the nice looking whores you frequent to come over and clean your room?" he asks.
Milton Milton says, "Well it's better strange people near your things than normal people near your things." He retorts in a nigh sulk. "Yes, we must, you're a recluse and I need some entertainment. I can just gamble and sleep with lovely women to pass the time!" He grumps and winces a bit with a sigh. "Why must you be such a recluse."
Bart Bart scoffs, "So you say." There's a blink slowly up at him and he questions, "Don't the ladies entertain you? Why must I?" he huffs a bit and then shakes his head, "Because no one understands, Milton, you know that. Or you wouldn't be hiding in here with me rather than out with the ilk."
Milton Milton frowns at Bart and makes a face at him, "I didnt ask -you- to entertain me. I don't find theorums on molecular disruption from application of applied light technology all that entertaining, big Brother." He notes with a twitch of his moustache and a smirk. "I am hiding in here precisely because I haven't been getting sleep and I know better thant to gamble with sleep deprevation, dear brother.'
Bart Bart meets that frown with a little bit of a smile, if there's one enjoyment, it's making his little brother frustrated. "But you should," he chides a little bit and then puts away his medical equipment, "Well good, wouldn't want you gambling our house away. So these people. Do they have names now that I must interact?"
Milton Milton shrugs, "I don't know yet. You have to meet them with me. So make time for that. Hmm? Let's get me some of that tea, I'm exsausted.."