ataraxion | sixth tear ♫ video;

Entry tags:

sixth tear ♫ video;

[ Any perceptive space folk will recognize the background of the MedBay at once. Any familiar with Elizabeth might be relieved to see the brunette awake after being mauled by a large, invisible, wolfish creature. The girl's long hair is down, unlike her usual, tidy ponytail, and a few flecks of blood marr her otherwise pale skin.

And, strangely, she looks pissed. ]

Ugh. In case others aren't aware, some kind of invisible animal is prowling the halls. It almost took a few organs...

[ She huffs shortly, as if just annoyed with the Hellhound, rather than terrified at her brush with death. Elizabeth places a hand on her bandages briefly, testing the wound. ]

I really need to get back to my room, but I'm fairly certain that there is still some invisible shit out there. If someone could escort me, I'd be glad for it, and it won't go forgotten.

[ There's a smile, but it isn't the bright sort of look she usually offers; instead, it's almost sultry, a little smirk amidst an expectant expression.

Until she winces, suddenly, and looks sour again. ]

Jesus. And I need a drink.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ As it happens, Booker doesn't see the video, at least not until later. While Elizabeth records, he's just offscreen, sprawled out with his arms and legs dangling off a too-small, too-hard chair placed next to her bedside, conked out with his mouth slightly open as he snores.

A dropped tray on the far side of the room wakes him, and he sits up with a jerk, blinking stupidly for a moment and scrubbing a hand over his face before he looks at Elizabeth. When he sees that she's awake, his eyes widen and he immediately drops his hand, crowding close. ]

Elizabeth? [ His eyes rove over her, checking the state of her injuries. She doesn't look great, but she doesn't look on the verge of death anymore, either, and a massive wave of relief washes over him. ] How are you feeling?

[ Oh, right. He'd been sleeping nearby, keeping watch over her (as usual). Elizabeth tossed her long hair over her shoulder, examining the bandages, responding very little to the emotional distress that exuded from her guardian. ]

Shitty, [ she said, the word very new and fresh on her typically-innocent tongue ] because I was mauled.

[ Elizabeth sighed shortly, running her hand across the bandages. ]

I suppose I didn't die, after all. So... well done.

[ He blinks, startled, at both her tone and her language. He'd never known Elizabeth to speak that way...though if anything, she'd have learned it from him.

Besides, isn't it deserved? She had been mauled, and he hadn't done anything to stop it. ]

I'm...sorry.

[ The words come stiffly, still unfamiliar to him, and he reaches for her hand, his fingers drifting through the air above the bandage - a newer, cleaner one than the one he'd hastily applied in the hallway. As much as he distrusts this place and everyone in it, he has to be grateful to the medical team, at least. They'd saved her life when he couldn't. ]

I tried to get to you sooner...

I know you did. [ She won't move her hand, if he takes it, but she won't be giving it any gentle, reassuring squeezes any time soon. ] And, really, you handled it well. With all that was going on...

[ She winces again, glancing at her arm, which is also wrapped up. ]

So, thanks.

[ Curt, perhaps? ]

What happened? Did you kill them?

[ He frowns. The words are right, almost, but that warmth that's particular to Elizabeth is just...gone. She hasn't smiled at him once since he woke up, and while maybe it's unfair to expect her to smile right now, considering, something still seems...off. Her hand is limp and passive in his, and after giving her a reassuring squeeze of his own, he lets it fall, drawing back self-consciously. ]

Think I just scared them away.

...Do you need anything? Are you hungry?

Not at all. [ She replied, barely looking at him as she examined the state of... well, herself, checking for any additional injuries she hadn't known about. ] I would like a drink, though, as I said.

[ He hadn't caught that, though, had he? She sighs slowly, clearing her throat. ]

... In any case, I'm ready to leave.

[ And she begins doing just that, gathering herself up and moving to slip off the hospital bed. ]

Edited (icon!!) 2015-04-01 17:07 (UTC)

Whoa - whoa, hold your horses.

[ He catches her arm, dragging her back and pressing her firmly back to the mattress. ]

Let's not move too fast, all right? Shouldn't the doctor check you over or something first?

[ He doesn't bother waiting for an answer, looking up and catching the closest nurse's eye before turning back to Elizabeth. ]

Just - wait a minute. I'll find you something to drink.

[ The nurse hurries over with a bright smile, and Booker slips off, returning a few minutes later with a cup of water. ]

Edited (anachronistic slang :() 2015-04-01 17:33 (UTC)

[ He digs into her injured arm to stop her and she frowns. ]

I don't-- [ But he disappears and the nurse comes over to check on her patient. Elizabeth spends the minutes in which Booker is absent to convince the nurse that she's fine, it only stings a bit, she'll be right as rain in a day or so, and then the man himself returns and she is, once again, trying to get to her feet. ]

I'm fine. [ Elizabeth asserts, and though it's not at all true, she can't say for sure what's wrong with her. Something feels off, something that isn't sickness or injury, but... well, that's an issue to ponder for later.

When she takes the cup in hand, she almost comments on it being water, but settles on gulping it down. Okay, yes, she very much needed that. But when they got back, she would make sure to find something a little stronger. Booker would have some, she could almost promise. ]

Well? Shall we?

[ Booker frowns again, still not at all convinced that she's ready to go, but if the staff here had given her a clean bill of health...well, there's not much he can do but go along with it. And keep as close an eye on her as possible. He considers trying to find a wheelchair or something, something that will make things easier for her, but Elizabeth's always been stubborn, and in her current mood, he's well aware that the suggestion wouldn't go over well. Instead, he moves to her side, reaching down to help her to her feet. ]

Just...go slow, huh? There's no rush.

[ She probably just wants to get out of the medbay. No one enjoys hospitals, after all, and whatever they may call it, that's exactly what this is. Actually...now that he thinks about it, it probably reminds her of her days being experimented on by Comstock. He'd seen that chair, the straps they'd had to hold her down.

No wonder she's on edge. No wonder she wants to leave. He looks down at her a little more kindly, his tone gentle. ]

There's nothing to worry about, all right? Let's get you out of here. Back to your own bed.

[ Okay, the staff hadn't exactly given her a clean bill of health (in fact, the nurse's words had been something like "a few more days"), but Elizabeth has no intention of staying for quite that long. Without either complaint or thanks, she allows him to help her down, straightening herself, testing her ability to stand up straight. ]

At least it's not tearing. [ Whatever is holding her together is doing a decent-enough job. She runs her hand over her midsection one last time before looking back up, expectant. ]

I don't really care about my bed; I just don't want to be in there anymore.

[ He's perhaps imagining that this has some connection to her past and to her abuse in the tower, but she thinks briefly of that time with a cold sort of indifference. Yes, it happened, and there isn't anything anyone can do to change it. ]

You weren't just waiting there for me, were you?

[ Yeah, that's...not much in the way of reassurances. He shoots her an alarmed look, staring down at her midsection as if expecting her guts to start spilling out onto the floor, but of course that doesn't happen.

He's not a doctor, he reminds himself. If Elizabeth says she's all right, he'll have to trust that.

Booker gives her an understanding nod, absently offering his arm for support. If she really wants to get out of this place, he'll get her out. No questions asked.

He blinks in surprise. Did she really just ask that? Can she really think...but of course she can. After the way he'd lied to her in Columbia, broken her out of her tower for his own purposes and planned to take her to New York, she has every right to be skeptical. ]

I wasn't going to just leave you after that.

You might have. I wouldn't have minded.

[ She'd been unconscious, after all, and doesn't imagine an unconscious body is much company. Also, though, she's not particularly surprised that he did wait... ]

Do you know what it was that attacked us?

I wouldn't have.

[ He needs her to understand that, even if she acts like it doesn't matter. It does matter, and he's not going to abandon her again. ]

I know what it was that attacked me.

[ Pendleton had told him that much, at least, though he hadn't much liked what he'd heard. In any case, he doesn't see much point in telling Elizabeth about the Dolls. Hopefully, neither of them will ever run into anything of the sort again. ]

What got you, though...that was something else.

[ He seems strangely insistent, in her mind, as if he's making it up to her in some way. ]

To be fair, I was the one who insisted. I should never have gone to try and save those people; that was a very big oversight.

[ Why should she put her life at risk for them, anyway? She'd almost died saving complete strangers, and ones who could be dangerous, at that. ]

Really? Hmm. [ She's curious, but not as inquisitive as she might usually be. ] Does anyone else seem to know?

[ He actually stops walking, turning to stare at her. Elizabeth not quite being herself in the Medbay, he can understand, but she'd been so insistent about going to save those people, despite knowing how dangerous it would be.

Belatedly, he realizes that she'd asked him a question. ]

...Not that I've heard. But then I haven't tried much to find out.

[ He'd been busy worrying about her, beating himself up for letting her come to harm, standing vigil. ]

Elizabeth, are you sure you're feeling all right?

Really? Well, it seems fairly important. Why didn't you look into it?

[ Obviously, that is much more of a concern than watching over her slumbering body. She thinks the choice should be pretty clear between identifying whatever creature was terrorizing them and... whatever he thought he'd been doing for her.

At the question, she quirks a brow. ]

Yes, I'm fine. Why?

[ She's not really going to make him say it, is she? Finding out just what it was that had attacked her had been anything but a priority for him. He'd been far too busy trying to keep her alive, getting her to Medbay...and even after it had become clear that her life wasn't in immediate danger, he wouldn't - couldn't - have just left her to go find out more. What if she'd woken up in a strange place and he hadn't been there? What would she have thought?

But if what she's saying is true, she wouldn't have thought anything of it at all. He shakes his head, feeling suddenly tired and low. ]

Never mind.

Let's just get out of these hallways before something else finds us.

Fair enough. [ Onward, then.

The traverse back to their little cabins is mostly silent, filled only in the echo of their footfall around them. Elizabeth doesn't actually do much; doesn't really check the injuries anymore, doesn't start much conversation, doesn't ask how he is after the fight. Because he's fine, clearly; he'd handled himself well enough and therefore there's no need to ask after him. ]

What happened to those people in the Shuttle Bay, anyway? Did they survive?

[ As it happens, Booker doesn't know that either. He hadn't been invested in what happened to those people in the first place, and he hadn't given then a second thought since the moment they'd been attacked in the hallway.

Elizabeth, though...

He doesn't answer her question, just gives her a measured, oddly flat look. ]

You don't seem like you much care one way or the other.

I asked, didn't I? [ A look of irritation flashes across her features, but she doesn't press it. ... Much. ]

It isn't as if you care, having fought so heroically against going after them.

[ He hadn't seemed to care much for the people of Columbia who'd been slaughtered by the Vox, or the people in Shantytown who'd withered away or been murdered by Comstock's men. Why hadn't she noticed that before?

Not that she cared, much. But it was interesting. ]

[ But she doesn't ask again when he doesn't offer an answer. He notices that. That, and the way she seems more annoyed than offended by his observation. ]

We're not talking about me.

[ Where he stands on the issue isn't in question. He'd been outspoken in his disapproval, after all, and he stands by it - going after those people had been a bad choice. A futile mission at best, and at worst...well, just look what had happened. But it's not like Elizabeth to shrug off the fates of innocent people like that. Booker may not care whether a group of strangers had lived or died, but he damn well cares that Elizabeth doesn't either.

Enough. He moves to block her path, forcing her to stop walking and to look at him. ]

We're talking about you. You were willing to risk your life for those people. Yours and mine. What's changed?

[ She both stops and looks at him, expression clouding further, unable to see why he would ever be so concerned, both about how she's acting and about what she's said, or hasn't said, about the people in the Shuttle Bay. ]

I almost died, Booker. Is that not reason enough?

[ Honestly! Was she supposed to give up her life for complete strangers, for people who might even be their enemies? ]

Why do you care?

[ Almost died. He hadn't needed the reminder, and he swallows hard, hands closing into white-knuckled fists at his sides.

But he's never been good at this kind of thing, and there's no way he can articulate just why it is that he cares. Why it matters that Elizabeth is acting so cold, so...indifferent. He shakes his head helplessly, at a loss. ]

You're not acting like yourself.

[ It's as close as he can get to an explanation, and he frowns, peering closely at her. ]

I've never known you to be like this, Elizabeth.

[Well that's....strange.]

Are you alright Elizabeth?

[ In perhaps the most surprising thing she's done so far, Elizabeth laughs. It's one, sharp ha, both disbelieving and sarcastic. ]

"Not acting like myself?" "Never known me to be like this?" You don't know anything about me.

[ It isn't as if a fuse has been lit; she isn't angry. It's just like he's told a joke, one she finds funny in its attempt and not at its punchline.

She's laughing at him. ]

Do you imagine you know me because of what you may have heard from your employer? Or is it because we've spent a few days in each other's company?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 4

sixth tear ♫ video;

action

action

action

action

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Text

no subject