017 ☣ Infirmary post + some housekeeping things

[fridgetothefire]

[Backdated to Tuesday]

[She's been in the infirmary since late Sunday night, but she spent most of Monday sleeping. She looks a little pale, propped against pillows, hooked up to an IV, but she seems comfortable enough.]

Hello, barge.

I am so bored. Worse, I can't read without getting a headache right now. So.

[She holds up an infirmary clipboard, the paperwork turned over so she could draw neat, careful charts on the back.]

Come in, sign up for a half-hour time slot and book. Books are sorted by genre and how many hours I estimate it will take to finish them. If you read to me, I'll bake you something nice later.

[OOC: feel free to ignore the regimented tyranny of storytime and talk to her about whatever, either on the network or via spam.]


[Private spam for Ben, before the attacks.]

[She knocks on his door, a cold, shaken look on her face.]

Comments

[Private]

[fridgetothefire]

You could bring me some colored pencils from the art room. Then I could color-code the charts!

[Her secret supervillain heart just wants to boss everyone around efficiently.]

[Private]

[wedonot]

["Secret".]

I'll be by shortly.

=> spam

[fridgetothefire]

[HUSH.]

[She's got bruises on her throat and blood-loss pallor under her skin, but she seems comfortable enough, albeit as fidgety as someone on painkillers for wounds to the deep muscle of her back can be. She perks up immediately when she sees him, though this may very well be due simply to the alleviation of boredom.]

Over here, Charles!

spam

[wedonot]

[He's not offended. He's perfectly aware of the fact that their relationship isn't exactly warm, and he's not going to delude himself into thinking she likes him. He's an optimist, but he's not stupid.

Still, he manages a smile and hands over the supplies.]

How are you feeling?

spam

[fridgetothefire]

Achy. Floaty? Floaty. Kind of like I'm full of something very viscous, honey or molasses or sap that hasn't quite turned into amber yet.

spam

[wedonot]

I suppose that's better than some of the alternatives. Are you in the mood for company?

spam

[fridgetothefire]

Please.

spam

[wedonot]

[Charles sits down in the chair next to her bed and gets comfortable. Or as comfortable as one can get in a chair in what basically amounts to a hospital, anyway.]

How has your scheduling been working out?

spam

[fridgetothefire]

[Deep sigh.]

Everybody wants to improvise.

[Bane of organizers everywhere.]

spam

[wedonot]

That's the Barge, for you.

spam

[fridgetothefire]

That's life.

spam

[wedonot]

Touché. Is there anything you're in the mood to read?

spam

[fridgetothefire]

[She hands him a copy of A Human Being Died That Night.]

I'm working on a theme.

[Going by the eclectic contents of the rest of her nightstand, this is patently untrue, but it's actually not a lie - she just had Lua bring a sample of her reading list that was fairly well-distributed by genre.]

spam

[wedonot]

[That gets a raised eyebrow from Charles, because he's looking over that collection and it definitely seems all over the map.]

And what theme is that?

spam

[fridgetothefire]

The nature of forgiveness.

[She waves a hand dismisively at the other books.]

Ignore those. I've got more than one theme running.

spam

[wedonot]

Alright. [He flips the book open, thumbing through the pages to the beginning.] I'm assuming we're starting at the beginning? Unless you'd left off somewhere else before you wound up in here.

spam

[fridgetothefire]

Yes, that's fine.

[And she settles in for some grueling post-apartheid storytime.]