ext_54989 (
lilmsmiraclegro.livejournal.com) wrote in
shatterverse2008-05-06 04:05 pm
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Claire is on a mission. Well a number of missions. She has a plan, you see - or an idea that might be a plab, so she can maybe be more than one half of 'the pair of blonde baking girls.'
First she tries that new hospital, looking for grouchy old men with canes. Then she tries the kitchen of the farmhouse, looking for the ghost of her boyfriend's sister. Then she wanders around the farm randomly looking for that redhead in a wheelchair and/or that older guy who makes her blood run cold everytime she sees his face.
It's possible anyone could find her anywhere, of course.
First she tries that new hospital, looking for grouchy old men with canes. Then she tries the kitchen of the farmhouse, looking for the ghost of her boyfriend's sister. Then she wanders around the farm randomly looking for that redhead in a wheelchair and/or that older guy who makes her blood run cold everytime she sees his face.
It's possible anyone could find her anywhere, of course.
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In her passing she may notice the rather large creature seated under a shade tree working in a large book that has to be the size of well..something big. Ogier books run large and there is a good stack beside of her.
Large teacup sized eyes flicker up, tufted ears twitching upward, once Ambriel has spotted the young human girl. She raises a hand in greeting also allowing a large friendly smile to split her face in half.
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Claire's first reaction is huh, I have no idea what that is. He second reaction, hot on the heals of that, is self satisfaction on how she's not freaked out by the thing (person) that looks like it (she) stepped out of Jim Hensen's studio.
It's cool, this world.
She raises a hand back and diverts her walking that way.
"Hey, where did you get the books?"
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Then, ohing softly, she sat the book she had been writing in down before climbing to her feet. "Please pardon me for not introducing myself. I am Ambriel, daughter of Amilia, daughter of Nyelle, Treesinger of Stedding Tsofu."
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Still, she lets it go and offers a hand upwards, though she's not sure how much good it would do.
"I'm Claire," she says. "Bennet."
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"Really? Cool, thanks. Is the new tongue what we're speaking now? English?"
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Yeah..still learning the whole 'America' thing.
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There's a still-steaming cup of coffee perched precariously on the left arm of her chair which she manages not to knock of due to long practice.
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"I suppose things are going about as well as they can in a world where humanity clings to survival by its fingernails."
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Well, great, that's but a dampner on Claire's good mood.
"You, uh... is there anything I can do?"
She's been training with Dinah and Steph, but all that means now is that she can throw a punch, and take one without falling over.
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She's looking Barbara straight in the eye. She'll know that look. The one when the looker's eyes are not on her legs.
"...I think I can heal other people."
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He snores.
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"What do you want?"
It's his standard greeting to people who enter his hospital! He's also tipping his head forward so the book falls into his lap and he can, y'know, actually look at her.
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Claire shrugs.
"Just to ask - I know you haven't got any patients or anything, but do you need a hand, in here? In case you do?"
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"A hand with what? You're too young to be a nurse."
And while a nurse's job can probably be performed by a moron, it does have to be a moron with medical training.
"And for your information I do too have a patient. Guy showed up with a busted leg and some ribs cracked. Stuck a cast on the leg, handed over some codeine and crutches, and told him to get lost."
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"Not too young to start training, though right? And I could clean and stuff."
She'd bet dollars to doughnuts he's not cleaning after himself.
"I just- need something to do. And I think I could help."
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He's been like that for an hour or so now.
What? He's thinking. Lots of people sit still when they think.
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No other movement.
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"Is it definitely the same? What I can do and what you..." stole from some other person "...can?"
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"Yes," Gray responds simply, resting his hands in his lap.
No need to explain how he knows until she asks.
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