Welcome to Gaia! ::

Another good shower, a change of clothing, and breakfast had restored the bounce to her step and Misha smiled more easily. The talk with Mercy had helped, too. She could not help but be pleased at how many genuinely interesting people were part of her new world. It made for excellent distraction.

Speaking of, she slowed her steps and looked thoughtfully in the direction where the more injured Chosen were being housed and cared for. She reached up and tugged at a long dark braid, head tipped to the side. That would also be a great distraction, she thought. Plus she could make sure that everyone was still breathing. She might not have gotten names during the Alps Situation but she had a steel-trap mind for faces. She remembered those who fell and... Biting her lip, Misha released her braid and straightened her grey sweatshirt a bit.

It wasn't too early to visit.

As she broke into a slight jog, Misha reflected that she probably should be bringing flowers or something. But not knowing how many people were in there, she ran the risk of not having enough. That's what she told herself, anyway, and dismissed the idea. Opening the door, she slipped through on quiet feet and looked around for any familiar faces.

None presented themselves but... The bowed dark head of a man sitting beside another man prone on a cot gave Misha pause and she chewed at her bottom lip again. The set of his shoulders alone radiated exhaustion; she could read the tension in the bit of his neck that she could see. She shook her head.

With quiet steps, Misha approached and laid a gentle hand on the sitting man's shoulder. "Hey," she murmured. "Do you need coffee or anything?"



WC: 295

Misha matched his smile but amplified it to about ten megawatts. Then she lifted her hand away. "I can do tea, definitely," she said. "Maybe green instead of black, though? A little less caffeine for that more soothing feel?"

Her grey eyes glanced at the man sleeping in the bed and she sobered. A smile still lingered on her face but it was softer, gentler, more understanding. "How is he?" she asked.



WC: 367

"That's good. If he has enough energy to talk, he's healing well." Misha reached for the man's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I'll be right back with your tea."

With that, she left him and wandered the laboratory building until she found a little make-shift break room. After some digging, she managed to find a mug and a tea bag of inoffensive-seeming green tea. As she waited for the brew to steep in the microwaved water, she stared ahead at the wall. A furrow appeared between her dark eyebrows. Then she shook her head. She didn't even know his name. There was no way to guess at what was going on out there. Shrugging, she picked up the mug, drew out the bag, and disposed of it.

Once she reached the man's side again, she handed over the mug with a soft smile. "Here you go. I didn't add anything to it. I couldn't find honey or anything so..." She tipped her head to one side. "By the way, I'm Misha Durand."



WC: 539

"It's nice to meet both of you." Misha was careful to include the man in the bed even if he appeared to be completely out-cold. Clearly, he was important to Zebulon and she knew how much ignoring someone could upset a person. Zebulon seemed quite upset enough without her pushing any extra buttons. After all, she had touched his shoulder twice now; it was like resting her hand on granite and, when she had squeezed it, she barely made a dent. So... More than just important.

She watched Zebulon sip the hot drink. He looked utterly exhausted, more than a little numb. Finally, she laced her hands behind her back and rocked forward minutely on the balls of her feet. "Has anyone offered to bring a cot in for you so you can catch some z's while staying with him?"



WC: 679

Misha looked around to double-check. She knew the girl with the wildly colored hair was around somewhere but, since they had not been formally introduced, she supposed it did not quite count. In consequence, she shook her head. "Not really," she admitted. "I didn't get a chance to do a lot of meeting and greeting before we got thrown into that." She wrinkled her nose, unlocked her hands, and made a vague gesture that seemed to take in the make-shift infirmary and everything beyond it. She was not going to justify it with naming the event.

"And now isn't really a great time for it so it'll happen when it happens." She seemed to realize that he might mistake her random visit to the infirmary as pure busy-body nose-trouble and offered him a crooked smile. She held a hand out, palm up, in a sort of placating gesture. "But I was passing by and thought I could see if anyone needed anything while I was free... And I really think you could monitor just as well from a cot, you know. We could put it right next to Diryas' and you could keep your hand around his wrist for pulse-checks."



WC:868

Misha beamed as he grudgingly capitulated to her suggestion. Zebulon was certainly a tough customer but that only made getting her way more interesting. Besides, she reflected as she slipped from his side and went in search of the desired cot, the poor man really did look completely bent in half. If Diryas was as given to worrying over Zebulon as Zebulon was over him... There was no way waking to such levels of stress would help the patient.

She wondered what exactly they meant to each other. Though she had a good guess, nothing had been said and Misha did not feel it appropriate to ask. Not yet, anyway. Maybe after the cot.

It took a good ten minutes but the petite brunette finally returned, akwardly dragging a simple army cot, all canvas and folding aluminum tubing. She somehow managed it in relative quiet but came to a halt beside Zebulon with a faint breathlessness to her. "Here we go," she announced. "This should help."

Behind him, safely unseen, Misha rolled her eyes. He was lucky she was feeling helpful! She watched Zebulon focus back on Diryas, though, and softened again. Maybe he was different when he was less worried.

She shrugged and, again as quietly as possible, she unfolded the cot and set it up. Then she disappeared for another handful of minutes. Returning, Misha dropped a scavenged pillow and blanket on the cot. "You're welcome," she answered belatedly as she touched Zebulon's shoulder, hand lightly there and gone in an instant. "Now maybe try and get some sleep so you don't freak him out when he wakes up again?"

"You're very welcome." Misha smiled sweetly; his gratitude felt real and honest. That was all she asked for, really. "I'll just leave you two alone to nap then. It was nice meeting you, Zebulon, and tell Diryas I said hello and wish him a speedy recovery." She lifted her hand in a little wave and, before he could scoff at her wishes, slipped from the room. Once out of sight, Misha began a whistle beneath her breath and picked up her back aiming for her room once more. What an interesting side trip, she thought. She would have to try and remember to check on them again later. Just because.