Chane Laforet (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fidele) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-08-01 05:26 pm
fidele) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-08-01 05:26 pm
Entry tags:
open
Who: Chane Laforet fidele, and open to anybody involved with her/in the Newcomer Hunt being treated in the hospital!
When: Afternoon of Tuesday 31st through to Thursday 2nd. Tag in with day/time in the subject line.
Where: Skye Medical Centre in Sector 4.
Summary: A little reconnaissance with the people she wanted to help, and helped her.
Warnings: Discussion of the Newcomer Hunt?
Even if every part of her aches down to the bone as she rests, she doesn't want for much more. The surroundings are different to when she was first dragged into this place the day before, but then, all of Chane's recollections are snippets lost in short bouts of painful movement and exhaustion. She doesn't remember the window at her bedside.
Somebody must have wanted to free up a bed and moved her, even lending pillows for her to sit propped up on. Or, more likely, a certain someone moved her to where the light could fall across the sheets. Not that she's complaining. It's good to see the city again and hear the traffic and everyday bustle on the streets below.
Nothing can erase the memories of those past few days, however. She remembers the other newcomers imprisoned on the hunting-grounds-- the ones who gave her their name, especially. They wanted to matter to her, regardless of whether she could provide them protection, and despite her self-preservation, her refusal to cooperate, her panic and nerves... their lives matter. The uncertainy of each one's survival lingers like a fluctuating undercurrent of the intruding sensation of the IV drip, the pain that's slowly leaving her system. Knowing that those others are safe-- Kaiji, Yosuke, Bolin, Conner-- would ease her. But seeing them, she awaits with trepidation and a strange, light emotion she doesn't quite recognise as simple second-hand relief. Her NV is bent and damaged, and using her telepathy only brings back echoing memories of pain; all she has to communicate with is her notepad and pen against any visitors' voices breaking through the silence that's fallen on her corner of the wing.
fidele, and open to anybody involved with her/in the Newcomer Hunt being treated in the hospital!When: Afternoon of Tuesday 31st through to Thursday 2nd. Tag in with day/time in the subject line.
Where: Skye Medical Centre in Sector 4.
Summary: A little reconnaissance with the people she wanted to help, and helped her.
Warnings: Discussion of the Newcomer Hunt?
Even if every part of her aches down to the bone as she rests, she doesn't want for much more. The surroundings are different to when she was first dragged into this place the day before, but then, all of Chane's recollections are snippets lost in short bouts of painful movement and exhaustion. She doesn't remember the window at her bedside.
Somebody must have wanted to free up a bed and moved her, even lending pillows for her to sit propped up on. Or, more likely, a certain someone moved her to where the light could fall across the sheets. Not that she's complaining. It's good to see the city again and hear the traffic and everyday bustle on the streets below.
Nothing can erase the memories of those past few days, however. She remembers the other newcomers imprisoned on the hunting-grounds-- the ones who gave her their name, especially. They wanted to matter to her, regardless of whether she could provide them protection, and despite her self-preservation, her refusal to cooperate, her panic and nerves... their lives matter. The uncertainy of each one's survival lingers like a fluctuating undercurrent of the intruding sensation of the IV drip, the pain that's slowly leaving her system. Knowing that those others are safe-- Kaiji, Yosuke, Bolin, Conner-- would ease her. But seeing them, she awaits with trepidation and a strange, light emotion she doesn't quite recognise as simple second-hand relief. Her NV is bent and damaged, and using her telepathy only brings back echoing memories of pain; all she has to communicate with is her notepad and pen against any visitors' voices breaking through the silence that's fallen on her corner of the wing.
no subject
"He must have been worried sick." He sighs, sitting back in the chair. It's...been a difficult week for Daedalus, evidenced by the darker circles under his eyes and a strange, heavier melancholy in the way he holds himself "....Anyway, has anyone given you a time frame for how long they intend to keep you for observation?"