paradisa | 024

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chell

024 - Ow

[Chell is lying in the clinic, staring at the ceiling. She actually doesn't remember coming in last night. Was it just last night? It feels like both an eternity and a couple of seconds But here she is, nonetheless.

Her right shoulder is in a sling, there's bandages along her right side, and something stiff to support the broken ribs. And her nose feels like it's five sizes bigger than it should be. But she's alive...

And then the realization hits her. So many of them aren't. Bond... Nepeta... gods only know who else. And with that realization comes another. She can't properly even mourn those who are dead here, all those names and voices she'd heard over the journals whom she'd been glad for at the time. Now that she's back in control of her own faculties, she's disgusted. Death is never a good way out.

Slowly, she picks up her journal, which had been lying beside her on her bed and flipped it open. Pausing to wish up a pen, she writes a message. She's not figured out that you can write with a broken shoulder yet so the writing is messier than usual and slanted toward the left.]

To all those who lost people, I am so so sorry. I know words aren't a comfort, but I had to say this.

[Slowly she lays down her pen for a few moments, just lost in her thoughts. And then she picks it up again to add something else to the page.]

I want out of here. I hate being cooped up. I need to DO something, anything at all. Do you suppose the doctors would be angry with me if I just left? Dpes it even matter?

[Anybody who happens past the clinic will find Chell trying to sit up and gritting her teeth in pain. But she's determined. If nobody stops her she will be sneaking out.]

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My physicians often had such problems with me leaving when I had work to do...

[Elizabeth paused, drinking from her cup of wine in her room.] But do you find much enjoyment in reading? I find that a ready escape when confined.

[Chell doodles a smiley in the journal, in thanks.]

I do. Thank you for reminding me. Thank you for reminding me of that. I'm... still not thinking clearly.

No matter of thanks at all, when as much happened as it has, it is easy to forget that which makes life bearable. [Amused by that, Elizabeth draws a flower in return.] I can bring you a book, if you like, and if you have a preference? I'd be more than happy to read to you.

[As she had once to Edward, as Mary had to her.]

[Chell thinks before writing back.]

I don't have a preference. But some poetry would be nice, if you have any books like that. And thank you. I've never ever been read to.

[She smiles a little, to herself. The kindness of people whose voices she's only heard over the journals never ceases to amaze her. Maybe some day she can return the favor.]

We do not have... your moving pictures where I come from, it is common for poetry and books to be read. Some to be read privately and others to be shared.

[But poetry, poetry she knows and loves. It is one of her greatest joys.]

Do you have a preference? There are sagas, ballads, poems about love, war, hope, longing. Truly, more than I can think of.

If you've any poems about hope, that would be amazing. And I only recently learned about movies, myself.

Of course, give me a moment...

[there's a great deal of noise, rustling about of what sounds like papers, the sound of a bottle being set back down.] I have been reading much since I came here, for the world has changed much since my time. Books were not so readily available in my own time, not to all people, but they are here. They write such things now.

[more pages flicking, and then the clearing of her throat.] Found it.

[Chell nods before writing back]

I'd never heard a poem till I came here, and never actually held a book. I lived in a laboratory from the time I was... maybe five or six, until I got here.

[And then she sits back to listen.]

[When she speaks again, it's measured and even. The words have a rhythm to her low voice, but it is still all said with feeling, and much of it.]

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

[she paused, taking a breath before continuing. The smooth sound of her hand running over the page again.]

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

[Chell's carried away on the tide of beautiful words. The poem comforts something deep inside of her in a way she can't explain.]

God. That's beautiful.

[That brought a smile to Elizabeth's lips, it makes her feel useful. A queen without a country, but this measure of helping in the face of all that had happened was...

... well, she had never been an idle one.]

Isn't it? It is was written by a Lady Dickson.

[The book was set aside once more.] Books are reserved for the wealthy, where I come from. Only few can even read. But most have seen or heard of them...

[she frowns.] A laboratory? Was your father an alchemist to raise you about such things?

I think I have read a bit about the time that you come from... And no. I was a test subject. I barely remember things before, but my father was a scientist I guess. So, I was taken into the laboratory at six or so, and tested. If you're curious, I don't ever mind talking about it. I thought everyone lived like that, or that I was the last person alive for a very long time, until I got here.

[Chell's finding Elizabeth to be really easy to talk to.]

Did you now? They tell such interesting tales of us I wonder what you read?

[Elizabeth's frown deepens, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of coming from such a place, or living like that. It is hard, though she understands the confinement. It wasn't until the mother's death she'd learned how different it could be.]

A test subject? Of what such test? I have employed many scientist and practitioners of all such manner of things but... aside from the doctors and the barber surgeons, no one tests upon people. [Well there was the torturers, but it probably wasn't best to bring them up at the moment.] It must of been a relief to be here then, to be amongst the living once more.

Most of what I read was about the poor, and the conditions they lived in. But it was mostly vague, and I'd far rather ask you how things are than assuming.

And they were testing a device that would make a portal, much like the one the ship we were on was apparently trying to do, only a smaller one, from one room to another. But the AI controlling the facility wanted me dead. So, she did all sort of things to try to make that happen. That's why I'm fast, and don't usually talk much.

[All this was written, of course.]

I have a limited view, my attentions are kept to a rather small part of the population, the Lords and Ladies. Though I have walked amongst the people from time to time, and their lives are grim so far as what I am told.

[She's done what she can to better them, to improve the economy and make England stable again, but it hard work, and the nobility takes up most of her time with their plots and intrigues.]

You must be much relieved to be away from such games? [Most of those terms go over her head. Words from another time that she has learned to muddle through.]

I am, yes. Very much. Would you tell me about the lords and ladies you knew?

[Chell likes good stories.]

I know many, I am the Queen of England, and all of court revolves around me, a great pageant in honour of me, a strange thing to behold to an outsider I imagine. Easily a thousand people make it up, and another great hundred make up my serving staff. [She painted a new story, instead, one she knew well, the one the common people saw, one of splendour, of grandness, of rulers fit to be such, for lesser men could not carry the weight.]

Though there are so many lord and ladies to know of. There is my Walsingham, he is as loyal as a dog but as sly as a fox and served me long these many years with his many eyes and ears. My lady-in-waiting Bess, she is soon to bear her first child to her husband -- Sir Walter Raleigh. Raleigh is an explorer to the new world, who strides across seas to find new lands, and fought in battles against my enemies. My enemies are creatures again, of the Kingdom of Spain, they revile me.

[You've got Chell's utter attention. You can scarcely hear her breathing on the other end of the journal. but when the story is finished, she breathes one sentence.]

Your world is amazing.

[Elizabeth's laugh is dry and not very amused at all.] Rather more than that, my dear, it is deadly and cruel -- but most of all it is beautiful and grand. One just needs to know the way about.

[Cruel and deadly? Yup, Chell understands that.]

The most beautiful things generally are.

[Gren had left the clinic long enough to clean up and take care of various other basics, excepting sleep. He hadn't actually gone far from Vicious' bedside since he shove the man there, even when the staff told him to go. Just long enough for appearances. He's passing by when he notices Chell trying to get out her bed, and he pauses in concern.]

Whoa...Chell...what are you up to?

Leaving.

[She replies stubbornly.]

I hate being cooped up.

[But she gives him a smile, or at least the ghost of one.]

It's good to see you.

[He echoes it, more filled with worry]

You're hurt. You you need to rest.

[She nods.]

I know. You're right. But I can't think in here, or rest. I get antsy if I'm cooped up.

[And then it occurs to her, two things at once.]

Do you have someone in here too?

[She raises a hand to indicate the other beds.]

And have you managed to get sleep?

[Yes, Gren. Have a mother hen.]

[No, Chell, you're not supposed to be doing the mothering.

He makes an amused face at her and answers only the first question.]

My friend Vicious is here, yes. Probably glaring at all the doctors if he's awake by now.

[She gives him a smile.]

He's a smart man then. Doctors can be good people, most definitely. But they insist upon the cooping up of people who are perfectly capable of crawling out of bed and moving about.

[Yes, Gren. Ignore that sliiight grimace of pain. Some people and their stubbornness.]

I think the key word in that is 'crawling'. I understand wanting to move. I really do. But you'll make it take longer if you push yourself. If it's not too bad, I'm sure they'll let you to your room to rest in a day or so, at least, instead of here.

[She nods at Gren.]

That would be good. I'd feel safer there, I think. And I'd have my fish tank to look at.

[Never mind the Magikarp in that tank is constantly sleeping.]

[He smiles]

Just give it a little more time and I'm sure you can. In the meantime, if you need distraction...well...I need to go check on Vicious first, but maybe I can come back here later? I could bring something from the game room if you'd like.

[She thinks for a long moment, and then gets a brilliant idea.]

If you could, go to my room, and bring me the stack of CDS on the shelf opposite the fish tank? I can wish up a stereo here...

[So saying, she wishes up a portable stereo and headphones.]

I thnk some music would help.

[And she jots down her rom number for Gren.]

Thank you so much. You are an amazing friend. And I hope Vicious is awake and on the mend.

[She means that last bit especially.]

I hope so too, thank you.

What kind of music do you like?

[she's writing again. ohhh, this is not good. Mark heads down to the clinic, Cherry Pepsis in hand, intent on visiting - when he catches her out of bed]

Hey, hey, whooooaaa...!

[She'd been so intent upon crawling back out of bed, that she hadn't noticed him till just then. Way to sneak up on a girl, Mark. Her head snaps up, and she looks like she'd been expecting a hallucination, until she realizes just who that is, and her face relaxes into a look of relief, and a small smile twists the corners of her lips.]

Hey Mark.

[She says softly, beckoning him over. And the minute he gets close enough, he's going to get hugged.]

I'm glad to see you.

Chell--! [he hugs back, carefully, as he's not sure where she's hurt. just the sound of her voice, even at a whisper, chokes him up, and he looks her over with wide eyes]

When you started writing.... When you didn't say anything, I was so ... I ... Jesus, Chell, I thought it broke you again. I thought it got you for good. What the hell happened?

[She looks like hell. Her nose is swollen to twice its normal size, and she's got several broken ribs. Whether he noticed or not though... And he'd notice, she had only hugged him with one arm. The other was in a sling, and bandaged up to her shoulder. She looks like hell.]

It almost did.

[She says in answer to what he'd said, and then sets about telling him the entire story of what happened on that death ship, about having the shit beaten out of her by Blues and Gale, about the hallucinations, all of it. It all pours out.]

I was telling people to... to... give up and die.

[The last four words are said in a rush... And then, slowly, she puts her good arm around his shoulders because he's her friend and he's solid and warm and not a hallucination. But when she finishes the story, she looks over at him. And although it is muted, there's a spark of defiance in her eyes.]

It bent me, Mark. But it takes more than that to break me.

[as she tells him about all of it, his expression moves through disbelief, fear, anger, sorrow... by the time she's done, there's no hiding any of what he feels, or even muting it in the least. tears are still drying on his cheeks as she wraps her arm around him, and he puts his around her, too. he's at a loss for words, unable to express how terrible this makes him feel, how inadequate a friend... and how he wishes he could have done something. how pissed he is at the castle, and at those who failed to keep this from happening.

but that spark of rebellion is just enough hope to remind him that there is something he can do.]

Then I guess the first question is.... What're we gonna do first to hit back?

<> [She hugs him. God damn, she's just glad to see him.]

I was terrified you were on that hell ship too. I'm so glad you weren't. So very glad.

[And when he asks her how to hit back, she thinks about it. All is silent for a long moment.]

I'm not sure...

[And then it comes to her, as a slow smile spreads across her face.]

Wanna know how to hit back? Give it joy instead of our suffering. I'm not sure how to do that, but give it the opposite of what it wants. You have any ideas?

[he pulls back with a grin]. I like the way you think. Gimme time and I bet I can come up with something.

If anyone can, it'd be you!

[She winks.]

Just um make sure it doesn't involve manure of any kind?

[It seems so long ago now, that they met over a discussion of the fact that there was an animal shelter and that manure could be gotten there. She's obviously joking though. Manure brings nobody joy.]

[it takes him half a second to realize what the hell she's on about, but once he does get it, he laughs like hell]

Arright, arright, but only 'cuz you asked so nice.

[She starts laughing too. It feels good to laugh genuinely without it being the crazed laughter of insanity.]

Well, I guess it could involve manure if you REALLY wanted. But maybe you should make it into statues.

[She's got an evil grin on her face, but she winks. Entirely joking here. She knows she sure as hell wouldn't want to smell manure long enough to make it into a statue.]

Too bad I'm not much of a sculptor. It wouldn't look like it'd changed much.

You could make snowmen.

[She sticks out her tongue but then considers.]

Though I think those are best made of candy. And then you don't have to worry about the smell.

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024 - Ow

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