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 Posted: Mon Dec 05, 2005 11:00 am
  Full name: (Ms) Eva Elizabeth Clarke
Nicknames: ???
Age: 26
Skin tone: Pale
Height: 5ft "8
Weight: 127lbs
Eye colour: Grey
Hair colour: Black, with light brown streaks. Perceived sometimes as a dark brown.
Hair style: Wipsy and flared.
Distuingishing marks: ???
Usual attire (when not in work): Loose fitting clothing, anything really in the drawer, doesn't care entirely, just bungs whatever
Work attire: Nurse outfit.
Race: Human..
Likes:
Dislikes: General happiness, beautiful people, colourful things, loud noise.
Job: Doctor Quinn's assistant at Queen's Cross Hospital - London.
Medical profile: Got her medical degree at the age of 25, despite being pregnant, the identity, or whereabouts, or happenings of this baby remains unknown. Was 'top of the class' throughout her course.
Family: ???
History: ??? (start unknown)....Was in a heavy punk rocker band called "Satan's Angels" in her teenage years, got laid by allsorts of men and female groupies and had around five children, whereabouts, identities etc strictly unknown (so she says). Her origin and other details are scratchy and very much unknown at that too.
Location: A rundown, old flat in the centre of London.
Pets: A black and white cat which occasionally pops in, but doesn't really belong to her, stray.
Significant other: None.
Sexuality: Bisexual
Friends: Tries not to make any, but considers Doctor Quinn a very good, close friend, even if he iritates her very much so at times.
Personality: Cynical, barking mad, crazy, hostile, yet past and behind all of this, shes a fairly decent person and can prove to be a very loyal, good, willing friend. Great to have on side.
NOTE!: As time goes by, profile and scratchy details will be updated, through and via flashbacks which should and will occur.
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Posted: Mon Dec 05, 2005 12:58 pm
:: Sunday, 19th November 2051.Dr. Q. Fletcher The sound of a pen tapping against a clipboard was the only thing that ruined the silence of the Quarantine Ward. It was by no means early but Quinn had never seen the hospital so quiet in all his years of working here.
He knew why that was though.
People were afraid and that was only to be expected.
He paused by the window, drawing back the curtains to let light spill into the stuffy room. The smell of disinfectant was something he was aquainted to now but today it seemed especially strong. A sudden urge to open a window filled him and maybe he would have if the patient in the bed hadn't stirred.
He whirled around, stern gaze falling to the young man who lay in the bed, beads of sweat gathering at his temples and face flushed with fever. The mask that covered Quinn's face offered him small protection from the strange illness but he was grateful for it now.
The moving stopped and the man fell still once more. With a sigh and a slow movement Quinn hooked the clipboard over the end of the bed, raising one arm to check the time.
9:13...She was late!
It wasn't like Eva at all, she could be a little strange at times but she did have an air of profession about her. It was one reason why he was glad she was his assitant during this crisis.
Yes a crisis...
He had a strange feeling that this virus which disguised itself as a severe strain of flu was going to cause a lot more problems than he was letting on. But why panic people before due time? Maybe he was just being a little too careful? Well whatever happened he would not deny his patients, he'd work through this despite everyone else and their pitiful fears. If he fell ill then atleast he could say he had done his duty. Things however were becoming a little more difficult, especially now that the Quarantine Wards were almost full. Would they really have to put more than one person to a room? It wouldn't be wise...but if they continued like this then there wouldn't be much choice.
He checked his watch again.
9:14... Where was that woman!?
He made for the door with quick, firm strides, pushing it open with a palm and glancing down the corridor expectantly. Eva Clarke Eva's head pulsed harshly, thumping, booming, racing. Just a few of the sensations which the young adult was trying her best to get used to that dismal morning. Was attending work in her agenda? Or would she snuggle up in bed with her packet of cigarettes and a few dirty magazines? As much as the temptation tickled, she would attend her usual dismal quarantine ward, and peform her usual nursing duties on dismal patients which sat sadly in a dismal ward. In a rather bleak situation.
By god did that temptation tickle more than anything.
Achoo! Eva rubbed her nose heavly, floods of snot coming down in their masses upon the white hankerchief. The door to her house smacked shut, and she collected herself within the car, shoving medicine down her gullet in fair amount. When it came down to treating herself, Eva gave little about her own health. Patients came first, and that had been her practise since training for this - now considered shitty-dismal-job.
The car raced off, a cig intwined between her index and middle finger, she flicked it out the window every so often as so the end would 'tip off', and took long drags from it, clouds of smoke circulating the car and almost blackening the roof.
Pulling up in the Queen's Cross car park, she rushed out, and threw her cig idly on the ground, stamping it out with her heels. A few tutted toward her as they passed, but she just giggled them off insanely, half tempted to give them the finger - but that wasen't good measure, nor good practise for her.
9.20!
Eva had just turned the final corrider, and had finally followed the precautions of washing her hands, etc before making her entrance into the lovely ward which she just so loved working in. Waving a hand up to her face, her legs wobbled. "I don't need another f** already now damnit?! I just had one!" Her head spun, and snot poured onto her lips, her bloodshot eyes peeking out from behind her thick, black glasses which were just descending toward the tip of her nose.
"Sorry I'm late!" Eva announced, whisking about the final corrider! And how that whisk took its toll, the woman almost lost her balance on the floors. Dr. Q. Fletcher "Oof." Hands gripped at Eva's elbows as she almost lost her balance and aided her into an upright position as Quinn gave her a stony glare. "You're sorry?" He kept his voice emotionless and firm as he released his grip on her and took a step back. The mask which had been around his face had fallen to hang about his neck and his eyes traced her face.
"Eva, you know as well as I do how many patients we have to care for, you really should be more punctual." Lecture over he re-fitted his mask, and began to walk towards the first ward, pausing to grab another mask from a hook and throwing it in her direction.
"Here, don't want you to catch whatever is bothering the patients...though-" It had taken him a while to notice that Eva didn't look her usual healthy self but now that he looked closer...
"You look terrible!" In seconds Fletcher had entered the doctor's zone, his posture taking an authoritive aura as he began to question her. "Have you been out all night drinking again?" Eva Clarke Eva screamed on the inside - loudly at that too. Oh shut up you a**! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! She couldn't take this lecturing, as if she was a little kid, well, Dr Quinn was obviously not showing her any respect today, at least it seemed that way upon first meeting. Gaw! I really wish I'd stayed at home now... Her thoughts rushed with images of her, snuggled securely up in bed, with a nice warm mug of coffee, a packet of those expensive cig's she liked, and decent magazines. Quite a day that would've been too.
She grabbed the mask, and imitated him as she slid it on over her narrow face. "Jesus's sake of bloody hell b*****d." She spoke a curse language of jibberish, wobbling her hand about oddly, for no real particular reason whatsoever.
Oh! So he was asking now! And about time too. She fitted the mask perfectly, and exhaled deeply. "No, for once. I haven't. And for once in my life. I woke up, feeling rather crap! And no, don't blame it on the cig's, cuz I know that'll be the first, AND last thing you ever do. Don't worry about it though, a few pills and an injection on ward and I should be as right as rain. Er.. as bright as the sun?"
She whisked off away from him, and went to the first Bay of the ward to begin her inspection of the isolated patients. Dr. Q. Fletcher He listened to her ranting with a practised patience, one eyebrow kinked up and steely eyes paying heed to her symptoms. She was ill and hadn't been drinking? Well now that had to be a first!
Turning his head to follow her path as she disapeared into the nearest room he let his shoulders droop as he leaned against the nearest wall. "Give me strength." He muttered, letting his head lean back against the brick as he tried to gather himself. He had a lot of work to do today and he had barely even started!
Straightening his posture he righted his white shirt and began after Eva, she needed to be seen by a doctor incase what she had would contaminate the patients and make things worse...unless...unless...
s**t.
She couldn't have caught it, could she? They had both been so careful!
He probably would have followed after her if he hadn't been suddenly stopped by the same news reporter who had been bugging him everyday since the first case of this new mystery illness.
Quinn whirled around to face him, irritation playing at his features. "Look, I don't have time for you right now. Isn't there some other story you could chase to give me a break?"
"No...that's not why I'm here." The man wheezed, his body trembling as he tried to stay on his feet.
"God man let's get you off your feet before you collapse!" Quinn allowed himself to show a portion of shock as he witnessed yet another person sucumb to the illness. Then did this mean it was quite possible for Eva to catch it too? The reporter had taken the same precautions as them and...
What about himself? Could he have the virus too? No...as far as he was aware of he felt fine...
"Eva! Get out here and help me get this man to a bed!" Eva Clarke Eva went about the wards per usual, from bed to bed, collecting clip boards which were attatched just at the bottom - before being - rudely - interrupted by the man out in the corrider who needed her attention so. She swung around, the collection of clipboards clinking as she dashed back into the corridors. Her head spun, and she couldn't make her bearings right, her legs wobbled and waffled around oddly, and her hands jittered. Clatter!
Her clipboards landed in piles on the floor, and soon, she was joining them. Spinning to the side and revolving a little to keep her balance after the dizzyness, she just had no chance against it, and gravity sucked her down into its hole. Aka the ground beneath her feet.
Her bloodshot eyes blurred, and her -now- bruised face sat smushed up against the stone cold flooring. Her glasses lay in pieces just aside her. The youth's legs shook about in all sorts of places, and her body jittered along with it. Almost as if she was having some sort of mindless fit. Oh how her body ached!
And still, that temptation which had tickled all but too long ago, was now stabbing deep at her heart, and she was soon regretting the fact that she had chosen work over a nice day off to get a little bit better and - somewhat - enjoy herself!
And then.... Everything just went blank. And dark.
WHACK! Dr. Q. Fletcher Where was that damn woman?!
Quinn grunted under the weight of the news reporter...what was his name again? ...Robert? The man had been posted here to get as much information on the progress on this new illness, ironic really that he himself would be infected. Could this really be serious? Perhaps he should inform someone of higher authority? He had tried to protect people by glossing over the facts to keep the public from panicking. What was the point of worrying them when he himself wasn't sure of the seriousness of the situation.
"Hang on a minute, you'll have us both on the floor if you lean on me like that." His pale skin flushed red as he tried to shift Robert's weight so he was easier to hold up.
"Legs...weak...urghh..." The man looked close to fainting, his eyes rolling back to flicker behind their lids as he tried to remain conscious.
"Eva wh--" Quinn's yell was cut off at the sound of clipboards clattering against the ground, head spinning round to see the nurse falling unceremoniously to the floor. No...NO! Not her too!
His knees almost buckled beneath him, back connecting sharply with the wall as the reporter slumped forwards, weight resting completely on the young doctor as he wrestled to keep himself upright. If he fell now then he might not be able to get back up, and his break wasn't for another two hours! No one would come to replace him until that time and...and there were patients who needed tending to.
"Eva? Eva wake up dammit!" He hissed between clenched teeth, jaw setting as he pushed with all his might, slipping out and away from the wall before letting the man slump down to the floor. There were only a few more beds left...only a few. Would any of the sufferers get better? He damn well hoped so or things really would get complicated.
Catching his breath he turned on his heel, moving swiftly to kneel beside Eva, rolling her gently onto her side and positioning her into a more comfortable position. Gentle fingers stroked along her bruised cheek, moved to part her eyelids to check her eyes - bloodshot.
"Damn." One fist connected with the floor, a jolt of pain lashing up his arm at the effort. "Now who is going to help me?" Drawing in another deep breath he rolled her onto her back, lifting her up into his arms. Luckily she wasn't too heavy, her slight frame much easier to carry than the reporter would be. He'd see to the nurse first. She was more important after all.
---
"Thanks for your assitance Marc, with Eva down with this illness I'm going to be stuck for help for a while." Quinn checked the equipment hanging about Eva's bed before turning to the younger man.
"Surely there are plenty of doctors around who can aid you?"
"They're all afraid, won't come near the place. Now Eva has come down with it they'll just stay away even more."
"Quinn, don't ever hesitate to ask for my help, I'm just a trainee but this is what I've always imagined the job to be. Putting my life on the line for the good of others."
"Glad I'm not the only one who realises what a 'doctor' is." Quinn gave the other a wry smile before turning to gaze at the far side of the room where Robert Hoyland lay. The man was in terrible shape, his breathing shallow and harsh, skin a sickly white, eyes bloodshot and sore. Definately one of the worst cases.
It seemed to effect everyone at different levels.
A piercing sound suddenly erupted from the Quarantine office, the sound that meant someone was critical...someone was dying. His heart leapt suddenly in his chest, jerking him into action as he dashed out of the room, Marc following at his heels. He would NOT lose a patient to this. If someone died then he really did have something to worry about!
His eyes sought the blinking light...room 6, the little girl who had been one of the first to come down with the disease.
His feet moved at rapid speed, the heels of his shoes clicking against the ground as he checked to make sure the mask was fitted securely round his mouth. Door to room 6 swung open, Marc reaching it just before it closed to follow Quinn inside.
"We're losing her!" Quinn yelled, stern gaze fixing upon the heart monitor and the horizontal line that jumped no more. "Quick, get in here and help me!"
Then from down the hall another piercing scream of a machine reached his ears. Another one!? They were losing them, losing them all!
"Marc! Page one of the doctors from the main wards, tell them to get down here RIGHT NOW!" Quinn yelled at the top of his voice as he battled to save the child's life.
Too late...it was too late.
The girl was dead and so was the other woman just down the hall. Two dead and thirty-two more in critical condition.
The situation was growing dire...
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Posted: Thu Dec 08, 2005 12:07 pm
:: Tuesday, 21st November 2051.Dr. Q. Fletcher The reporter was dead.
The interview had been terrible. Lies, lies and more lies. Who was he trying to protect? Himself?
Hands trembled from where Quinn sat in the corner of the ward, shoulders hunched forwards and eyes darting from side to side. He looked quite mad, as if he too had lost his mind to the fever that had been infecting and killing his patients. So many...so many dead. Why was it he remained alive when all around him people were losing the battle for life?
After a moment he consulted the list:
2 survivors, 58 dead and 36 more still fighting for life in their beds. More and more were being submitted to the ward each day, many of them already too ill to be saved. But how were they to know they'd caught the disease?! He'd told everyone it was contained in quarantine.
He was a liar.
He was no doctor.
He shook his head, fingers tightening around the paper, creasing it in his sweaty palm. It was that reporter's fault! He had set the disease amongst the others and contaminated outsiders...no...no, NO! He was the one at fault, Quinn himself.
He was the one in charge, he should have said no to the reporter, forced him away and kept everyone completely contamination free. Now because of him and his reckless behaviour the city would be in grave danger. The Quarantine would have to be moved to a bigger scale! They had no more choice left.
"Uh...doctor?"
Quinn's head snapped up, steely eyes focusing upon the voice at the door...Marc? "You shouldn't be here. You could become infected." He stood up, and motioned the trainee doctor away with a hand. "Have you been to check on Eva?"
"Yes sir...she seems to be fine, her vital signs are improving."
"Good, that's good." If he could get just one person to survive this illness then it would be a step closer to solving the puzzle. "Now, get out of here and don't come back. Tell the receptionist we...have more bodies to send to the morgue." He sighed and ushered Marc out once more. He'd make a grand doctor someday...if he lived that long.
The smell of death weighed heavy in the air as he moved into the corridor where cots had been set up for people to lie in the corridor whilst they waited for a bed. Since there had been so many deaths recently however, many had now been moved to wards if they hadn't died first.
The moans and groans of the sick rattled through his mind as he headed down to the far side of the corridor. He wanted to see Eva before continuing with his plans. Eva Clarke A picture-perfect scene of happiness embolded itself within her thoughts, dreams. Corruption and insanity lingered amongst the darkness, but this happiness dominated all. And Eva didn't like it. How this dream was all but too happy, how this dream was so perfect. A normal person would have admired the pleasantness of the sleep. But how Eva HATED it, her angst showed, and really in time, all she wanted was but to wake up from this happiness, and be accepted back into the world of nightmares which were just starting to envelope and take affect.
Oh boy, how she loved corruption. Living on the brink, edge of insanity - which in turn was considered her every day, normal lifestyle. But how she loved this new found situation, this pandemic of a situation. It was filled to the brink of corruption, of hate, of death. She could smell death which had began to take its toll on the wards. And did she all but love it. She LUSTED after it, this stench, this foul odour brought about - in turn - more than death for her. It brought about meaning to carry on, and meaning of seeing the corruption which was bound to take fold on earth, and devour her race in its single gulp.
Oh how she lived for that moment, oh how she wanted to see death in its plenty once more, how she lingered on for just that. . . .
Gasping! Eva flew up in her bed, sweat trickling down from her forehead to her lips, which oddly, and disgustingly she accepted gratefully in its gulp, the bitter taste bringing her back to the normality and reality which was the hospital room she was situated in. Ill as ever, stiff as ever, achey as ever. Yes, she was entirely ill still. But to her, she cared but little.
The temptation which had tickled previously was bound and soon to become reality. Now all she needed was her cig's and her magazines.
Her screams echoed the corrider, hoping for an ounce of attention. Dr. Q. Fletcher He swung into the room, pausing in the doorway to stare at her, leaning against the frame to catch a gaze at her frightful figure sitting in the bed. She did look terrible, but that was only to be expected. By rights she should have been dead by now, but she had survived, she had been blessed with a miracle.
"You should be thanking your lucky stars." He muttered dully, "you should be dead." He said this with little emotion, eyes dark as he strode over to her, pausing to take the glass of water from the side and extending it towards her.
"You'll probably be wanting something stronger than water but in your condition I wouldn't advise it." That wry smile touched at his lips again, and he suddenly look a decade older than he actually was. He himself was suffering despite his health, looking thinner in the face, his skin pale and eyes weary. Dark shadows were visible beneath his eyes, and he found himself craving for a bath and a nice warm bed. His muscles ached with each small movement and legs trembled under the effort of walking.
He slumped down on the chair beside her, elbows resting on the side of the bed so that he could bury his face briefly in his hands. If he closed his eyes now then he might fall asleep...he had patients to care for...so many of them.
"Death...so much death. Eva...this illness is going to kill everyone!" He raised his head up, gazing at her with raw emotion in his face. Dr. Q. Fletcher He swung into the room, pausing in the doorway to stare at her, leaning against the frame to catch a gaze at her frightful figure sitting in the bed. She did look terrible, but that was only to be expected. By rights she should have been dead by now, but she had survived, she had been blessed with a miracle.
"You should be thanking your lucky stars." He muttered dully, "you should be dead." He said this with little emotion, eyes dark as he strode over to her, pausing to take the glass of water from the side and extending it towards her.
"You'll probably be wanting something stronger than water but in your condition I wouldn't advise it." That wry smile touched at his lips again, and he suddenly look a decade older than he actually was. He himself was suffering despite his health, looking thinner in the face, his skin pale and eyes weary. Dark shadows were visible beneath his eyes, and he found himself craving for a bath and a nice warm bed. His muscles ached with each small movement and legs trembled under the effort of walking.
He slumped down on the chair beside her, elbows resting on the side of the bed so that he could bury his face briefly in his hands. If he closed his eyes now then he might fall asleep...he had patients to care for...so many of them.
"Death...so much death. Eva...this illness is going to kill everyone!" He raised his head up, gazing at her with raw emotion in his face. Eva Clarke Eva waved her - what almost seemed like - straw hair away back from her face, and secured it in a ponytail behind her, by use of one of the bobbles about in her top pocket, just aside a pencil. "Oh? Just give us a ciggy Quinn, man. I'm gagging. I've been out of it for a while and I don't deserve?" Hackles of anger rose amongst her bony back, yet she held back the temptation of going further with her uproar, and decided against letting it get too out of hand.
"To be honest, I'm not wanting to miss all of this for the world." Her words were stone cold. "To see a pandemic this large, this great, its overwhelmingly mind boggling, hell, I want to see this." Her lips propped, as if a cig was visible about her lips. "Its about time those bloody scientists came to terms with the fact that the humans aren't going to last quite as long as they had predicted. Something greater has taken hold." And with a final tilt of her head, complete darkness was cast over her frail face, proving cynical features in bright light white contrast.
"And... we're all going to die..." She could only but laugh at the insanity of the situation they were surrounded in, a mean cackle, and mean eyes which soon trailed over the Doctor insecurely. Eva devoured him to pieces with her eyes, cruelly. And she would never be the same again after this. The conversation, the dream.
Hell, she was going to love this hell-on-earth. And she told him frank, that she would love this crisis more than anything. Her ordinary yet-slighty-odd lifestyle beforehand, was going to take a radical turn of insanity, of complete desperation.
And all she could do was but laugh her head off.
"And we're all going to die." Dr. Q. Fletcher He stared at her. Just...stared.
Her insane blabbering floated about his head as he tried to determine what exactly she was trying to say. She wanted to die? She wanted others to die? That wasn't like Eva at all, she was a survivor who put up with anything, that was why he had admired her despite all her obvious faults.
"That may be true Eva." He said, his voice merely a whisper as he leaned over and opened the small draw by her bedside. His hand delved inside, fumbling blindly for a moment before fingers brushed against what he had been looking for. The small box with its flip lid settled into his palm as he raised it, opened it and took out one of the little white sticks he despised.
A cigarette.
His nose wrinkled at the sight of it, but he wasn't going to deny her something she enjoyed, it might be her last one after all. She might have improved but she was still sick, and in a hospital that was completely full to the brink with contamination.
He handed one to her, then sought the lighter he had kept with it, hands trembling as he raised that also.
"We may all die, all of us...but I'm not going to sit back and let it happen Eva. I can't do that." He gritted his teeth and drew in a hissing breath. "Out of all the patients here, only you and one other have shown signs of improvement. Take this as a sign that you were meant to live in order to aid the people of this city. Stand by my side to fight against this." Eva Clarke "This is not my battle, nor my place, nor my purpose. Nor is it my war!" Eva screeched on that note, lighting up her cigarette with haste and taking long and smooth drags from the delicate luxury which made her ooze and squirm in pleasure. "The Government may do whatever they want in this time of crisis, but the fact is there, and it is bold. We all WILL die whether we like it or not." Long puffs of smoke floated idly toward the roof.
"Why should I fight other peoples battles for them? This is a time of desperation, its every man for himself. Dog eat dog. And thats just tough luck. Too bad a man like you cannot see that far off yet. But you will be alone in this hospital in the end. And you will die. You will see darkness you've never seen before. And you will be alone, alone in your ill health. And forever more cast into darkness. Its a bitter future." Her drags were moreso calm now.
"Why not - go out? Enjoy life whilst its there? Enjoy this situation we're in somewhat - yet to an certain extent. Others will flap around at this time, and the last thing you want is for things to rage so far out of control. Do what I would do - and do plan on doing. Walk away. Walk far away, and never look back. . . And watch the earth itself, evaporate, cast into darkness and death. And suddenly, one day in the future, just dissapear... Alone... And all by itself..." Tears rolled innocently.
"Its very harsh being alone at such a desperate time." Her puffs and drags NOW became desperate, and worked up in a rage, a frenzy, tears still rolled, mascara smudged, but was barely visible beneath her thick black rimmed specs. "Its very harsh, and very scary. Its very alone, its very dark. Knowing the inevitable. That hurts, so much." Streams, floods of tears fell about, and she began to sob.
Her covers absorbed them all up about her, and she clung onto them tightly.
And we're all going to die...
Eva sobbed. Dr. Q. Fletcher He was a doctor, she was a nurse.
Her way of thinking seemed terribly wrong. Their lives had been given to protect the lives of others, to care for those who were in need. Was she suffering from fever? She was still ill, so perhaps this nonsense she was babbling was due to that? He didn't want to see the best damn nurse he'd ever seen become some crazy fool!
His fists tightened, still trembling with fatigue as he tried to rid himself of exhaustion so he could concentrate.
"Dammit Eva! I probably WILL die! I probably WILL suffer tremendously, God knows I deserve it." His face was being pressed into his palms once more as he tried to fight off a headache. Perhaps he was coming down with the illness too? No...probably just stress. "BUT I WILL NOT LEAVE THIS CITY TO PERISH!" He looked up then, body trembling as the emotion was released. What was the point at shouting at her? She was a stubborn woman and wouldn't listen to him, especially in the state she was in.
Her tears were proof of this. He had never seen her cry before, never, and the sight of it pulled painfully at his heart strings. He shifted, the springs of the bed creaking under the weight as he moved to sit upon it's edge, reaching out to wrap his arms around her shoulders, inhaling the smoke from the cigarette and not caring if it tainted his lungs or not.
"I understand, but there's no need to fear the dark if light remains. I need to be that light for people, I can be that light for you too." His voice was a whisper now and his ears automatically blocked out the piercing sound that meant another patient was close to death.
He hated that sound. Eva Clarke "Then you will die for what you stand, you will die, and you will fall greatly with your city, your city will perish. And life itself will never be mentioned again. Never. Ever." Tears rolled in their plenty, and the cig secured itself tightly between her lips, and she drew and dragged from it with extreme force, taking out this immense angst, this cruelity, this sadness on the single drags in which she took, the harshness of it sending smoke down her nostrils.
"I love you. My friend. I love you. May what little light remaining, watch over you, watch over you damn good. But in turn, the little light will die too. And you WILL stand alone Quinn, YOU WILL. And you need to face the reality of our situation. Please!" She begged him, still, free tears coming about.
"I both respect and love you too much for that - Doctor." Eva hugged her legs loosely. "No-one will cast dirty eye on you if you abandon post, their dirty eyes WILL perish, their foolish actions will die, and in turn, they too will die for sticking to their post. You need to get out, and find a way out, and do some damn good. Please, I beg just that much of you." Her head shook lightly, and the brown strands distinguished theirselves freely from jet black.
"There is no light, nor is there hope for the people in this ward. They will die. Now, why ever I didn't die, and the other patient, remains a mystery. But I say its fate. Its down to the fact that we are wanted by grace of God, God has a purpose, a task for us to carry out on this earth whilst their is no light. And the same applies for you, you have not caught this virus, you too are chosen by himself. And you have a damn ******** job to do, you need to get out there, AND DO IT! Don't trap yourself in this place forever, get out, and find the light for us all! PLEASE!" Her desperation worsened, and she launched herself at him at a pathetic cling, crying easily into his shoulder. Dr. Q. Fletcher He listened and clung to every word, understanding how insane it was despite how truthful the words sounded. She wanted him to leave? Leave to where? He needed to stay, that was his purpose, but what use was he here, waiting in the wards of the dying? Was he truly wasting time here? Should he abandon his post to try and find the answer to all of this?
He said not a word, only hugged her tighter when she clung to him, reaching up to stroke back the dark strands of hair from her face. He wanted to comfort her like he would a child, rock her in his arms till she slept, but what good would a fevered sleep do?
She was in shock perhaps but he didn't know that for sure.
Insane Eva seemed the most sane here.
"My friend..." He repeated softly, lips brushing against the top of her head, "if I leave then what of you? Will you leave too and find this path that God has laid?" He was not a religious man per se, but right now he desperately hoped some powerful, merciful being was watching so that he could use his powers to aid them. Eva Clarke The strokes, the delicate strokes which fell along her back brought masses of pleasure. Eva gasped as his hand trailed, burrowing her head just in against his neck, her dark hair disguising the goings on, but really, and honestly- she was leaving seductive kisses about his neck, in an odd manner. The desperation brought about a pleasurable, love light, and she soaked every moment of this new found feeling. She welcomed this 'act of desperation- bond' between them, and continued her plants and trails and lines of harsh kisses.
Just at a brief pause, she replied.
"I will follow my path as I must, and you should yours. Do not let obsticles get in your way..." Her kissing resumed, proving what she had just spoke of, was this just a mere test? Or was Eva honestly showing her admiration and affection for the man she respected. Did she love him? Or testing him?
"Go out there, and find our answers." She whispered carefully into his ear, clinging on as tightly as ever onto him. Dr. Q. Fletcher Why was he doing this?
Professional Quinn who knew only of work and nothing of pleasure?
Who had been a serious boy who had taken no interest in 'relationships'.
He felt a shiver run down his spine, not of fear but of something else, and though part of his mind told him he was wrong for taking advantage of a sick woman he didn't seem to care. It didn't matter whether he caught the illness, didn't matter whether he died right there and then in the ward, it didn't matter if--
Then she spoke and he jolted from his tranced state to look down at her a little.
Their paths...would they take them to seperate destinations? Would they part to never set eyes on each other again? Well it didn't matter just yet. Whilst she remained bed-ridden he would stay. When she was able to move without her legs collapsing beneath her, then they would consider leaving the ward.
Another piercing note chirped up - the sound of death - but he paid it no heed as he felt her tighten her grip.
Was this just an aid of comfort?
A gesture between friends?
What was this flutter in his heart?
He let his hand fall from her hair, moving to tip up her face with a finger beneath the chin, then after a moment's pause, his lips brushed over hers. The touch was nothing more than a flutter, hardly a kiss at all, but it made his heart jolt all the same, and as quick as it began it ended and he pulled away.
"Get some rest, as soon as you're better we'll make plans to get out of here. Until then relax, smoke and be merry. I'll check in on you after I've done my rounds...and destroyed that bloody noisy machine." He headed for the door. Eva Clarke His irresistible touch as it trailed gracefully to her chin, her shivers as his soft fingers fell around her skin, and the eroticism of the moment was only something she'd ever encountered in literature - and in her wildest dreams of course... As their lips met, just touched for that brief moment, she was left breathless, hoping and wishing for a stronger, passionate kiss. But she was left on a cliffhanger, as soon, Quinn was out the room, in what seemed like a matter of seconds, the beautiful moment between them, had diminished - yet, had left it on its climax, and had left something much more beautiful for the afterward.
Eva flopped back as he left, and her eyes trailed the roof above her carefully, fingers reaching up for the cracks off light which contrasted off the fairly dark roofing. "Little light." She murmered to herself. "Everything will be cast into darkness, and all light will die." Her head circled her hand above her in an odd formation.
"All light will be compelled into the lunacy of the darkness, and all life will diminish..." Her fist clenched tightly, and its grip swung about.
"We're all going to die..."
"We're all going to die..."
....
"We're all going to die..."
"No." Her hand unclenched itself, and whirrled around, a light coloured moth revealing itself from her grip, and fluttering out furiously into the shadows, as if distraught. "Quinn will restore light... Because I believe in him."
Her hand dropped with a thud. And she was soon asleep.
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