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Date & Time: 2/2; morning
Location: Clinic
Characters: Soldier Blue and Aileen Kimbler
Summary: Meeting someone new and talking about those non-human blues.
Warnings: Probably none!

Aileen is happy to be back at the clinic, it's nice to be back to a normal routine. At least as normal as it could possibly be on the island. Returning from her younger days she's... recovering from a lot of embarrassment. Putting her focus back where it can do the most good is freeing and relieving.

Working means nothing has slipped between her fingers yet; she can focus on what can be easily handled here and think on everything else at a later date. Like reordering the drawers and supplies to be more accessible. A quick once-over tells her what needs to be restocked, as well.

Small boxes of supplies in hand, she stands just at the doorway to the backroom, pausing for one distracted moment to wonder if she's forgetting anything else.

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The strain from the mission left Blue feeling very drained, frayed in a lot of ways. It had built upon the distress and confusion from days previously – days where he, too, had missed time, still unaccounted for. Days where familiar minds and hearts were altered and estranged – seemingly outright gone from this world. And now, back from the chaos that was Uruguay, he found himself unable to adjust wholly to whatever was going to take its place as normal.

Normal was...as perhaps ever, going to be a weightless word.

He needed help. He could feel the weight of his age and toll his energy output had taken on his body increasing steadily, like stones building up one by one on his shoulders, his chest, his head. It made keeping his bearings straight difficult, drifting focus to the many scattered thoughts of those so freely thinking them.

Who was...? Ashraf? Where?

Blue's eyes lifted to the notice in front of the door. Clinic, right? Ashraf made note of it before. Was he still here? Maybe...

He pushed the door open, stepping inside without a word, trying to widen his eyes as if that would expand the scope of his second vision, coming the area or some familiar notion.

The door clicked loudly behind him.

The sound pulled Aileen's gaze away from the back, for a split second she was glad-- another staff member means there would be a second opinion on how things should be moved about-- But then she comes out to the waiting room and took in the sight of him. The way he held himself was all she needed to see to know this man was a patient.

Her surprise doesn't last long, and the supplies are left on a counter as she hurries closer, calling out, "What's happened? Here, let's help you to a seat, dear."

She places a hand at his shoulder and makes to gently steer him towards one of the waiting room's chairs. Already she's taking mental notes on what might be wrong. Exhaustion is obvious, but she doubts anyone would see a doctor for just that.

His hair and eyes too. Is he albino? With all the different species here its impossible to say with any accuracy, other than that he looks like it. Coming from a world of fae and faeries has taught her never to rule out those other possibilities.

Concern, interest, and a swirling mix of thoughts and feelings connected and disconnected to the moment at-hand drew near, and then grew sharply in their volume the moment Aileen laid hand on him. Sharp, but not painfully loud; he hadn't time to adjust, to think to try and resonate with her mind and heart, and found it much like one walking into the bustling outdoors from a quiet interior.

Slowly, he almost said aloud, the notion hitching his latest breath before given up on. He was easily led, albeit sluggishly so, to sit, feeling that heavy, almost burning feeling one gets when weariness finally finds its place to rest and refuses to move again. It would take a lot for him to stand steady again, feeling that way.

He was slow to offer any response at all beyond compliance, lifting his head to look at her. A stranger. Hardly phased by his own strange appearance, she had qualities of her own. To speak nothing of the hair and the eyes, Blue could perceive a...a foreign kind of air about her. Not human, but certainly not Mu, either. He had nothing familiar to connect it to.

"Who are you?" he asked, having lost her questions and his answers on the way to the chair.

"Dr. Kimbler." And with that she couln't help more of that concern from showing on her face, head tilting just a bit to punctuate her growing worry. Even the fan-like fins of her ears too were raised up attentively.

At Blues' slow reactions she could feel her own fingers twitch, quick to remove the one at his shoulder once he was safely seated. There as the itch she always got when someone looked miserable, the impatient desire to check them over with her magic and find the problem, sense it, with an efficiency that mundane diagnosis just couldn't achieve in so little time. But no, she had been at this long enough, and her personal rules of conduct were still the same. Most people didn't usually enjoy magic flooding their nervous system without warning, especially if they were sensitive to the sudden surge of energy.

"I'm here to help. Can you tell me what's wrong?" She says with a practiced calm. Then, more softly, "You look exhausted, no need to rush."

Her wondering – her instincts, the near checklist-like way she looked and sought answers from his appearance and his voice – dimmed when she withdrew her hand, but the emotions coming from her remained practically palpable.

"He helped me once," he said, finding his bearings gradually. "Ashraf...He had some power that could keep me standing."

But she was not Ashraf. Yet he sensed a familiar grace and warmth from her, quite foreign in ways, but no less present.

"I have grown tired again."

"Ashraf... Yes, he and Anders run the clinic. He's a very talented healer." She smiles, fond and guilty. With the hustle and bustle of the clinic they hadn't interacted beyond their shared duties in quite a while-- an awkward state of dodging that Aileen worked to maintain. She and Ashraf were not friends, exactly.

"He isn't on shift now, but I'm here." She paused, still remaining mindful of Blue's comfort in all this, "I imagine this isn't simple fatigue, is it?"

The shade of guilt was met with only a faint strain of Blue's brow, not wholly understanding its source, not privy to every thought and notion within. He thought nothing of it, giving focus to her words, his expression losing its tension, growing a shade somber. Bitter, even; that much was at least present in his own words.

"It's time," he said, sitting up out of his slouch, mouth twitching. "Age. I can only deflect it for so long, in so many ways...but I must, all the same."

His hand, having sat cupped on his knee, curled into a fist.

"I need help for that."

Her eyes drop to his fist, then slowly rise back up to his face, any trace of a smile fading to a thin line. Old age was the one ailment her magic could do little for in mortals, the one ailment that there was no real cure for, and in that moment she steeled herself for the possibility.

"I see-- If you can explain a bit more how you deflect it, if this is something species specific," she raises both hands for him to see, focusing magic from her palms through each finger, a soft green glow threading up to her fingertips. "I can try my hand at a solution."

There was a tug of a smile to go with that offer, even in the midst of her own uncertainty she wanted to reassure him. And perhaps there was some hope in the implication she took from his words; if he was something other than human, she might find more options.

Like Ashraf's own spells, hers were of a quality he couldn't perceive with his own gifts. It was as strange to him as anyone unfamiliar with magic. His attention was understandably drawn to it, distracted from her words for a small stretch of time. His gaze flickered back to her once he saw how steady it was – that magic wasn't visibly mischievous, at least.

He nodded once, slow.

"Please."

With permission given, she returned the nod and gently took his hand, pushing aside sleeves to find his wrist. This whole process worked better at the neck, but any point of the body with nerves would suffice.

The threads of magic became focused the moment her fingers touch skin-- four points in between each knuckle and once at the dip of his wrist. There's a small jolt all at once, but no pain, like static shock and the surprise that goes with it; and with it Aileen's magic was following the web of Blue's nervous system, feeling out any sights of pain or damage.

Her own expression grew calm, eyes closing to further herself from distractions. Only seconds in, and she knew there were no internal wounds, a few more and she knew there was no illness... She branched out her magic further, just to be sure.

She frowned, a small pit dropping in her stomach. The wear and tear of old age is certainly present, but there must be more, she hopes, and searches.

Contact drew her thoughts and feelings closer to him, rising like the swell of the sea. Fitting in more ways than one, truly. He watched her, seeing more than what eyes could see, feeling her shifting emotions. The search, the wonder...the displeasure of a failed discovery.

"It's alright," he murmured, reassuring her. It wasn't her fault; he was asking for his time to be mended, which was rarely possible.

Her magic lingers a few stubborn seconds more, but soon she pulled away, releasing his hand in a sad, slow gesture.

"No, I... I'm sorry. I see what you meant now." She said, outwardly maintaining a professional air. Inwardly pushing down a wave of bitterness, disappointment in herself and underneath that a barb of jealousy. This was yet another life she could not protect.

With no small effort, she managed to raise her gaze to his. "I'll contact Ashraf for you. I just need your name."

She was very kind; Blue's smile had a shade of apology in it, feeling a pinprick of guilt on her behalf. He'd had no intention to trouble her, though troublesome things were no doubt something she sought with her own will to mend.

The least he could do was give her a name.

"Blue," he said. "But if anything, a chance to rest for a moment is enough."

The company didn't seem to be of the bad sort, after all.

There's an invitation in those words, to slow down, to stay a bit longer. She hesitates, knowing full well it would be much smarter not to delay getting him to a more capable doctor, but if he wants to rest a time, who is she to deny him? It may well be the one thing she can provide.

"Alright, Blue." She smiled, swallowing and setting aside the feeling of urgency that came with her job. "Do you have a last name--? Out of curiosity. I've been coming to find some here don't use them."

There's a quick flicker of confusion at the question, but quickly gone as he understands what she's getting at. He shook his head, slow.

"If I ever had one, I do not remember it," he said. "Blue is what I am called. It's my name now."

And her? It was a good chance to turn the attention on her. "Doctor Kimbler. You have a last name, then?"

"You don't remember?" It's her turn to turn to look a shade bemused, but its not hard to glean a few clues from that response. What would make a person forget something as important as a name?

"Ah, well, Kimbler is my last name, Aileen is my first. But you can call me whatever feels comfortable." she said, smiling. Her names meant quite a bit to her, one being a symbol in her mind for the day set foot on land, the other being the only thing left from her life in the ocean.

His eyes squinted at that fleeting notion – the value of her names. What did it mean?

"But which is truly comfortable?" he asked.

Her head cants to the side, mulling it over. That was a question she had never asked herself.

She weighed them both, her birth name or her borrowed one. The answer causes an inward frown, but neither would be a confusing thing to say. Besides, that certainly wasn't what the question meant; just a simple preference, right?

"...Aileen." she lied.

He saw the lie as plainly as he heard it and considered it in a length of silence. How would she react if he were to speak against it? Those waters were always dangerous to tread. Even in the company of those empowered in their own way, exposing his own always came with extra danger. He could hardly blame them; one's own thoughts and feelings were one's own. It would be unnerving to know they weren't sealed and silent.

What would make her happy, then? To accept the spoken word or fight for the feelings behind them? What was Blue in his right to choose?

Heavy thinking for barely an acquaintance. Blue felt another wave of fatigue, his eyes half-closing even as he mulled over his choices.

"As you say, Aileen," he said at last, betraying his senses.

The fatigue doesn't miss her eyes, and she wonders what it is that grasped his attention so suddenly. With it comes the pang of guilt, the ever present knowledge that this man is old. Mortal.

Her hand reaches out to him again, this time for only a light touch to his own. She smiles softly, warmly, inside continuing to push away the troubling things that bubbled to the surface. Her heritage was not something to dwell on here, nor was it helping either of them.

Her past was the past. And at least for now, this man was here asking for company.

"Forgive me if this is an odd question Blue, but are you a human?" she asked.

"No."

He had only hesitated a moment, taking care to understand from where the question came. But there was no dark and murky suspicion or hatred fueling it, not what he could detect. Remarkable, but a relief. And, more than that, a curiosity. She wasn't herself, was she? Not like the humans he was accustomed to, anyway.

"My kind are called Mu," he said. Simply no was hardly an encouraging response, after all. "We were born from humans, but we are not."

No hatred at all in fact, but a kind of understanding and a nod. Creatures that appeared human but were anything but below the skin were all too common to her knowledge.

"Mu." she tested the word, almost asking if it was like the Greek letter, but it's the second part that catches her interest and she speaks with sympathy. "From? Is that how you've aged so gracefully?"

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oh god what is tense consistency i murdered it

puts it in the trunk

drives down to the river

throws body into water, hits mermaid WOOPS

well darn that's two life sentences

they'll never catch me alive

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