𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝚎𝚜𝚚. (
fixateur) wrote in
diademlogs2026-02-11 11:13 pm
Entry tags:
{ open } ↠ my foolish heart
Who: Harry + All of You Friendly Neighbors
Where: Various locations around Panorama
When: All throughout February
What: catch-all nonsense.
Warnings: Marked on each prompt below!
If there's anything you'd like to plot out, then don't hesitate to contact me @
robutting | historiaflux @ discord | Journal PM 💕
Where: Various locations around Panorama
When: All throughout February
What: catch-all nonsense.
Warnings: Marked on each prompt below!

— CLINIC
[ Sometimes you clock in for work and come out of your shift worse than you entered. Case in point: the brawl that broke out at the bar last night. One moment you’re fixing up vodka shots, the next your face is kissing the sticky wooden floor after getting an entire chair chucked at you for no good reason at all other than being collateral damage.
If Harry pinched his pennies really tight, he could squeeze out one visit to the hospital, but this is the closest clinic that One Guy dragged him to before driving off. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.
Inside the waiting room is a ripe mess with Harry smack dab in the middle. Some are here for a broken bone (or two). Others are fighting the painful, nauseating sensation from food poisoning. You also have a vampire trying to fight back the bad blood they had last night.
Meanwhile, Harry presses the small plastic bag filled with half-melted ice right on the bruise on his eye. A piece of duct tape serves as a stand-in bandage over the sizable gash on his forehead. The sort of laceration any medic would have to close up with sutures. His left hand is “bandaged” together with scotch tape and toilet paper (Turns out first aid kits are a dime-a-dozen around Panorama).
His back arches over the top rail of the vintage wooden chair, trying to find some semblance of comfort while waiting for one of the medics or healers.
It’s been over three hours since he first sat here.
Maybe you’re a friend/ally he phoned to let you know that he is at the clinic. Or maybe you’re a medic/healer clocking in for their shift. Perhaps you are fellow patient who is also waiting their turn to be seen. Screw it — you could be the type of person to drop in with your own motivations.
At the clinic? Anything’s possible.]
— BOOKSTORE
It’s no library, but it gets the job done as far as finding an assortment of topics from cooking to Archaic Languages For Dummies.
Within one of the very narrow book aisles, Harry is standing in front of shelves, thumbing through either of these old, dusty textbooks:
> A (Very) Brief History of Magicka
> Understanding the Mechanics of Quantum Fluctuations
Neither book appears to be from Earth. For all he knows, either of these texts could be from opposite points in the universe. Not that it didn’t matter. They aren’t exactly the most accessible reads.
But…he is trying. Under those reading glasses sliding down his nose, he engrosses himself with every word. Almost to where he doesn’t recognize the person, either to call his attention or is trying to slide behind him from these narrow shelves. ]
— BAR
From behind the bar, Harry is going about his usual routine of either cleaning glasses or filling a glass of beer from one of the taps. The radio seems to be busted from the way it stutters at this one particular song playing on a loop.
On the drink menu is your usual selection of alcoholic beverages, along with a specialized mocktail menu on the back.
Or maybe quenching your thirst isn’t at the top of your mind. If there’s any other place to spark up a conversation or gather information, this might be the place to do it! ]
— WILDCARD