Collette (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whatsupcroc) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-06-07 11:05 pm
whatsupcroc) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-06-07 11:05 pm
(open) days go by and still i think of you
Date & Time: June 4th - 9th
Location: Initiative Hospital
Characters: Collette & Open!
Summary: Shenanigans while ill at the hospital.
Warnings: Hospital gowns, illness, trauma, silliness.
[ June 4th-7th ]
Her fever spikes the most during her first few days in the hospital. Collette hesitated to tell anyone; there was little to do but wait it out, and she was more preoccupied with the coughing when she was awake and aware of her surroundings than she liked.
She's even abstained from using the network that often, having difficulty concentrating on the bright screen.
What she didn't expect took her, and several nurses, and any potential visitors, by surprise. When the fever ran too hot, and her delusions started edging toward frightening territory, Collette reacted.
Once, where there'd been a sick girl, there appeared a crocodile. Mouth opened, it hissed and growled at everything that moved in the room, one lash of its tail taking out the IV pole. The privacy curtain is doomed to be half torn down while Collette isn't taking charge of the reptilian brain: it was one very frightened crocodile reigning over a disheveled hospital bed.
[ June 7th-8th ]
She had the crocodile under control when she found herself having episodes of coming to while morphed golden retriever or coyote, hiding under chairs, or wandering the hall with her hospital gown trailing awkwardly between her legs.
Twice she ended up in the cafeteria. Collette really didn't quite understand how she got there.
[ June 9th: after this ]
On the 9th, the fever broke, but it wasn't something she noticed. Not after everything else that happened after she escaped to the hospital roof.
Collette was shaking from something entirely unrelated to her illness, even if the shivering could have been attributed to it. She was scared to close her eyes, scared of coughing because it left her vulnerable, tired and sick and scared all around.
This, she decides, Takes the award for royal suckage.
Location: Initiative Hospital
Characters: Collette & Open!
Summary: Shenanigans while ill at the hospital.
Warnings: Hospital gowns, illness, trauma, silliness.
Her fever spikes the most during her first few days in the hospital. Collette hesitated to tell anyone; there was little to do but wait it out, and she was more preoccupied with the coughing when she was awake and aware of her surroundings than she liked.
She's even abstained from using the network that often, having difficulty concentrating on the bright screen.
What she didn't expect took her, and several nurses, and any potential visitors, by surprise. When the fever ran too hot, and her delusions started edging toward frightening territory, Collette reacted.
Once, where there'd been a sick girl, there appeared a crocodile. Mouth opened, it hissed and growled at everything that moved in the room, one lash of its tail taking out the IV pole. The privacy curtain is doomed to be half torn down while Collette isn't taking charge of the reptilian brain: it was one very frightened crocodile reigning over a disheveled hospital bed.
She had the crocodile under control when she found herself having episodes of coming to while morphed golden retriever or coyote, hiding under chairs, or wandering the hall with her hospital gown trailing awkwardly between her legs.
Twice she ended up in the cafeteria. Collette really didn't quite understand how she got there.
On the 9th, the fever broke, but it wasn't something she noticed. Not after everything else that happened after she escaped to the hospital roof.
Collette was shaking from something entirely unrelated to her illness, even if the shivering could have been attributed to it. She was scared to close her eyes, scared of coughing because it left her vulnerable, tired and sick and scared all around.
This, she decides, Takes the award for royal suckage.
no subject
::I know:: he replied. ::You can't take the good and get rid of the bad, it's not how people work.:: And there was pain in his mental voice, that he couldn't quite hide. In some ways, it had been the bad memories that had played the largest part in shaping the path he took, making the good ones shine all the brighter, and making him fight more fiercely for them.
::I won't touch any of your memories. I promise:: And Bright Lady help him if he ever was forced into a position to break that promise.
no subject
But she doesn't like being here, and doesn't like being helpless when that can hurt, nigh on kill, people who are important to her. Or get her killed without knowing what she's doing, the same thing she accused Barnaby of doing while he'd been here.
no subject
He sends wordless reassurance along the temporary link he's made between them. ::I'll do what I can to help - hauling supplies, looking for the people who released this - whatever they need.::
That was the most frustrating part about this - he was a soldier, but in the face of disease? That meant nothing. All the skills he had were useless here. He tried to mask that frustration as best he could, though.
::Anything I can do for you?::
no subject
It made her answer looser, something helpful in protecting her, redirecting concern away from the aches and pains and scary things that curled in tight at the back of her mind.
Make sure Caesar eats something like real food, will you? If he's still around. Hospital food really hasn't gotten better in the last few thousand years.
An undercurrent of warmth, concern, and amusement is all tangled up in what she thinks; along with a series of images of Caesar, the cafeteria, and cafeterias of years past. There's also reassurance past what Nate's been providing -- with connotations tying it to Caesar and to Drift, her silent, watchful robotic companion.
no subject
Nate gives her a wry smile in return. ::If hospital food actually good better, I think world would end. It's one of those universal constants. I'll get some real food into him even if I have to cook it myself.:: He brushes her shoulder lightly, sending another pulse of reassurance, and the tiniest subconscious suggestion against nightmares. ::Rest - you need it.::
no subject