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 Posted: Wed May 28, 2014 5:23 pm
"I thought scholar implied sexy," she said, her words slurring at the end. Sexy. Chicago was not a place where Hanna had been before, nor was Illinois. As far as she knew, Chicago was actually the only city in all of Illinois. And Obama and Jack were its only residents. Oh right, she'd mentioned that repodding thing... Hanna tackled the easier question first. "No, though I wish a charming black guy appeared in a towel every time I use it. It's a cooking spice that people put on anything -- though its true purpose is to be used when steaming blue crabs. Delicious, kind of a salty-spicy. It's ambrosia, as far as I am concerned. I will learn to cook and then cook you something that uses it. Some day." She had grown up on it, sprinkling it on sausages, shrimp, salads, and many other foods that started with many other letters. She paused, wondering precisely what to divulge. In the end, Hanna settled on the truth. It was her primary inclination. "Yeah, about that... I returned to the conscious in Deus for the second time in April. But it had been... awhile." She sighed. "Two and a half years. I was actually in one of the first groups of Hunters awakened in recent times. Bix and Robert were in my group, among others who... well, who aren't really around anymore." Goddamn, she was being chatty. Chatty and divulging personal information, a stupid conversation. Belatedly, Hanna bit her lip and fell silent. The straw squeaked as she pulled it back into her mouth, eyes heavy.
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2014 6:36 pm
"Librarians are sexy. Sometimes. If they're not crotchety old women with rulers up their asses." Scholars were just over-educated nerds, though now he probably had to amend the definition. Almost all scholars were just over-educated nerds.
Jack attempted to give a low whistle of appreciation at the time span, but no noise left his dry lips aside from a short gush of air. "Heard they could go up to three years, but damn . . . That's some nap. Guess this wasn't a great way to head back to the waking world." He wanted to be nosy about the how and why, but he could see how tired Hannah was getting (and frankly how dry his own throat was growing), and so for the moment just let it go. Instead, he reached out for his bottle and tilted water into his mouth, sighing.
"s**t, you're still sleepy," he teased, grunting as he shifted himself into a more upright position to avoid getting sore. He managed to get the book before it completely slid from his lap and eased it open, flipping around. "Here, let's have a bedtime story . . . Ah, this one's good. 'The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar', published in 1845." Jack cleared his throat with great self importance, ignoring how it actually irritated his lungs. "'Of course I shall not pretend to consider it any matter for wonder, that the extraordinary case of M. Valdemar has excited discussion. It would have been a miracle had it not -- especially under the circumstances. Through the desire of all parties concerned, to keep the affair from the public, at least for the present, or until we had farther opportunities for investigation -- through our endeavors to effect this -- a garbled or exaggerated account made its way into society . . .'"
Akina Tokuwa can skip to about the 5th day or so if needed!
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 7:08 pm
An image of an old woman stripping on a pole that was actually a ruler sprang to Hanna's mind, unbidden. She closed her eyes to try and shut it out. "Mmm, bad mental image," she murmured, mostly to herself. Golden eyes flashed back open, refocused on the cracks in the ceiling she had been counting earlier, though they were blurry. She sipped lightly at the bottle of water until her straw began to sputter. The bottle was empty. It hadn't occurred to Hanna what might have happened if she hadn't woken up when she did. What happened after three years? "Nobody's given me my damn medal for Best Invalid yet," she said dryly. "Instead, I got 3rd degree burns." It was still a mystery why she had been put away. Large parts of her file had been blacked out, and her memory was mysteriously blank. Just what had Hanna gotten herself into? Her eyes were slipping shut again, but flashed back open when Jack began to read. "No, no, it's fine, really..." Sure, she protested, but within minutes, she was asleep once more. ol-j-man Sounds good to me! By then, Hanna will be able to sit up.
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 8:24 pm
On the fifth day, he couldn't hop out of bed faster. The fourth day had been spent in agonizing patience because Owain hadn't quite given the all-clear, but by God Jack was ready to run the second the giant gave him a thumbs up. Well, actually, he did literally do his laps around the training field, desperate to make sure he hadn't somehow slipped back in his regimen thanks to a ******** sandworm.
And then, of course, after that it was back to work as usual.
Jack made sure he did multiple shifts in the infirmary, however. During one instance, two bottles of water with straws were left inches from Hanna's bed, one which had an index card leaning against it which read in narrow, right-slanted handwriting:
The Medal for Best Invalid was awarded to Hanna Nowicki,
on this day, May 20th, 2014, for her hardy nature
and ability to not immediately piss off the giver.
Gold star for you.
He whistled a little as he checked the readings coming off her monitors. "Ahhh, speed healing is so handy. And how are we today? Hopefully better enough to get out already, there's too many ******** patients here and not enough space."
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Posted: Sat May 31, 2014 6:42 am
After a short time, the full Hunters had been cleared from the infirmary. Next, the intermediates, which meant that Hanna lost her talking partner. The infirmary was a lot less crowded when it was just the trainees left, still nursing their healing burns. The tension in her muscles was abating, and she was down to bandages only on the most serious areas -- like her entire torso, sigh. But, hey, she could sit up! And reach for things! Huzzah! Plus, Jack was still around, which was nice. Golden eyes appraised him, and Hanna triumphantly reached for the index card award still leaning against the water bottle. It was easier now that she could sit up. She held it across her collarbone and eyed him seriously. "Excuse me, sir, but I am an award winner at this establishment," she said. Then, setting it down in her lap (but careful not to crease it, this was something she would save, another scrap of meaningful paper in her box of meaningful papers): "Must you rub your ability to walk in my face? Can't you, you know, do a little limping? Maybe adopt a dead arm hang? Wear an eyepatch?" The truth was that Hanna was also dying to get out of here. Think of all the paperwork that was sitting somewhere, un-filed, because of her absence. (It wasn't. Deaths were replaceable. The only person who noticed her absence was the woman who she usually got coffee for.) So she relented: "I feel better. But not walking-around better. How much longer do you think until I can?" Adelphe might still be giving her the silent treatment in her head, but she was doing her part with the healing side of things, much to Hanna's immense relief. She hoped it would only be one more day, two more at max, but she wasn't sure. Healing was not part of her typical knowledge base.
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Posted: Sat May 31, 2014 7:49 am
Jack smirked as he continued making a few extra tics off certain boxes along with his own commentary (no allergic reaction, no apparent side effects from upping her dose more than listed, healing quite nicely in comparison to others, pain medication is a godsend). "Some of us don't have time to lie down on the job, Miss Nowicki. I already know some idiot who's got the eyepatch thing taken care of, anyway, it'd be garish if I copied. Next to my d**k, my eyes are my best feature, and I'd hate to deprive the world of either." He then marked a few things off her chart: the menial stuff they made life trainees do, like heart rate, temperature, sometimes how hot they were and whether that meant grateful patients owing favors (the catalogue had to be thorough for some, after all). "God damn it, I thought award winners were supposed to be special," he sighed as he set the clipboard away. "Thought you'd be up and about just to give a middle finger to someone by now. Although I'm happy to do that service instead if you've got someone in mind," he added pleasantly. "But for now, the going rate for basic trainees seems to be about 6-7 days judgig by the rate you're all healing at, so you're almost done. Just don't do anything stupid, like try to choke visitors who piss you off." He laughed at that one for some reason. "So, does the local celebrity have any requests today? Bandages need changing? More water, maybe a palm leaf to slowly fan you with?"
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Posted: Sat May 31, 2014 8:14 pm
Hanna smirked too. It was a more common expression for her than a smile and required less effort, which was lovely since she wasn't totally healed just yet. And then, perhaps less charmingly, snorted when Jack brought up how special his p***s was. That's what they all say. And hey! The snorting didn't really hurt. That had to be some sort of victory right there. (Hanna counted it.) Easing up slowly, Hanna corrected her posture as gingerly as she could. She settled into a slight variation of her leaning position, only pausing to lift a hand to flip off Jack. "Yep, I think I can manage this one still," she said, wincing slightly when she moved but covering it. "It's my spirit animal. Or my patronus. What have you." In truth, Hanna thought her patronus was maybe something feline -- a clouded leopard, maybe -- or even something aquatic -- an orca? Narwhale? She'd debated this with herself and The Internet many times. It wasn't a debate she thought Jack would want to have. Plus, 6-7 days didn't sound so bad; at least there was something to look forward to now that Jack was no longer as consistently present to entertain her. She didn't understand the choking comment. "Here's hoping no one does anything to earn it," she said, reaching up a hand to push the matted strands of red hair out of her face. The whole room smelled as musty as she felt. It would be a godsend once she could just shower. The same hand reached down to gently drag across the criss-crossing bandages that covered her chest and torso. She didn't know how fresh they were, but she definitely knew she didn't want Jack changing them, not that she took his offer seriously. "I'll accept nothing less than a banana leaf and that's final." Her voice took on a mock snooty air that reminded her chillingly of how her sister sounded when she spoke about shopping. Enough shtick, Hanna was happy to have Jack back for conversation, even if he wasn't confined to the same incapacitated state as she was. "So, inquiring minds want to know, what was the first order of business when they finally let you out of here? I am passing the time by building up a detailed schedule of After the Infirmary. So far, it includes: shower. Or at least some sort of shower activity. An actual shower might be unpleasantly painful." If showering with a sunburn was any indication, it would be no walk in the park for her.
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Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2014 12:12 am
"Ah, good," he said simply, snorting with amusement at the spirit animal's greeting and giving the same in kind, just to be polite of course. It was a real shame the patronus comment flew over Jack's head, though; considering his freakish height, that was an accomplishment. (And showed how little he read to begin with.) Jack then grasped the bottom of the clipboard to make sure the pages wouldn't rattle and fanned Hanna for a little, adding with an inappropriately bright smile, "Tough s**t. "Even if you feel perfectly fine when you leave, though, I'd advise against dumping yourself straight into the shower. Else you might irritate your new layer of skin again and cause more problems, which I'm sure your partner wouldn't appreciate." Or choking people, that would be an issue too. Owain certainly didn't enjoy dealing with the skin he had just started healing again when his hunter pulled that stunt, and Jack swore the remnants of the scar left from shoulder blade to ribs was an intentional botched job out of passive aggression. "I redid my schedule when I got out, of course," he replied as he stopped fanning her. "Had to accommodate for the time I lost not checking in for five days down in the labs. But the first thing I did outside was run a good few times around the training field. Then it was a shower, and then back to the usual routine." He had missed the familiarity of knowing exactly what was supposed to come next, what mattered when and why on what day and hour. Lying in bed had messed with Jack's perception of time. He debated whether to grab a chair and settle in, or whether Hanna would decide sleep was better anyway (read: it was, but she looked awake). "The exercise helped clear my mind," Jack said as he occupied himself with settling the chart back in its translucent slot instead. "I'd suggest some once you're out, if you don't think you'd get peeled out of your skin for doing so." Then he remembered the crates of unpeeled produce and potatoes, and the vivid image of peeling a human being out of their skin seemed almost funny in comparison, in a macabre way. "My turn. You're in Death division, aren't you. How's that going for you when you're not being roasted or swallowed?"
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