May 05 02:31:41 106 PA
From Chronicles
This room is the same as thousands of other waiting rooms, reverberating back through the history of the multiverse. If it were empty, one would be able to look it over - one of the overhead fluorescent lights flickering in the corner - and see a place where injured people are crammed until somebody who might be able to help becomes available. The speckled off-white linoleum tiles stretch across the room, with several rows of somewhat uncomfortable looking chairs occupying a large portion of it. Reinforced to support a wide-range of weights and sizes, the chairs themselves lack any sort of padding for ease of cleaning, while their dark blue colour clashes slightly with the greenish hue of the walls.
The room is rarely empty, however, with injured and sick people from all over the dregs and less fortunate of Kingsdale coming and going with a (relatively) quick turnover. Though many of the chairs are bolted down, the few that aren't are oft pulled out of place to accommodate a hobo's broken and bleeding leg, or ragged mother's sick child. One in the know of current gang relations in the dregs might also be surprised to see opposing gang members avoiding eye-contact in opposite corners of the room, waiting for their most recent gunshot wounds to be tended to - possibly from the same shootout.
The pressure valve of the room lies through two aqua double-doors that are flanked on either side by desks. One of the desks is manned by constantly rotating secretaries who both handle the mass of paperwork that the hospital generates, and make sure the flow of patients remain constant. The other desk is often manned by large, burly men, who - despite the fact that they are presently only wearing nondescript black MDC armour - one might see leaving the building wearing a plethora of Colours, and one might do well to avoid just a few meters away from the hospital. In fact, they would likely do well to avoid them now as well, as it might be a Long Walk Home otherwise.
Today, the early hours of the morning, the lights are still on, the blinds pulled down, with the music seeping through the door. Despite this, the lab, normally the domain of Maya alone with her music and her beloved samples, has today an unexpected visitor. A desperate man, addicted to drugs, seeking his next fix, has wandered her way. Careless of others, aware of the reduced numbers at this time of night, the security focused on the main parts of the hospital, he has left the door ajar, and in that crack, a passerby might see Maya retreating behind her large silver table, hands hold conciliatorily palms up. Under her makeup, her grin is missing, her face a little pale. The cause may be the knife the man waves in the air, his loud demands for drugs barely understandable, barely connected with the reality of the world.
Thud. Thump! The door presses open, with a bored-looking Sebastien pressing a gurney into the lab. The sheet covering the contents catches a snag on the door frame, and as he presses it into the lab that sheet draws away. Underneath is a debee in full rigor -- the half of the upper torso and head at least -- green scales giving way to a cauterized wound where the left arm and stomach had been. The face holds an expression like surprise, the right hand locked temporarily into giving an ironic thumbs-up. Large headphones dangle to an object in his pocket, eyes down, as Sebastien bops and grooves to a beat only he can hear, calling out, "You ordered a stiffy?" But bodies don't come here. They go to the morgue. For a moment, the picture is frozen, Maya's pale face hiding the emotion she feels as she aims for a calm reply. "Of course, I've been expecting you." Her gaze flickers between the two, her calm confidence lost for once. The man's reaction is less calm, spinning on his heel to back against the wall, the knife waved between the two, as he fails to decide on a course of action. "Where do you keep the drugs, man?!?" Still, his position is between Maya and the door, despite her careful edging, which now must go the other way.
Seb's oblivious to the outside world. He doesn't seem to have heard Maya for the sound in his headset, and with his eyes on the body he may not have seen the intruder. That gurney gets wheeled into the center of the room while Sebastien eyes it, frowning, head down, and he looks up to the right, then to the left, where neither person stands, looking for a place to put it. A faint frown breaks up the scarred lines of his face, and that gurney turns, swinging back as the drugged one watches. He gently pushes it back near the door, then gives it a hearty shove at the knife-wielding maniac.
The knife-wielding maniac is staring at Maya at that moment, and the sight of the gurney heading his way is not spotted until the last moment, before it rams into him, smashing him into the wall. The knife clatters to the floor, at the same moment the darkling scientist hurtles across the room, out of danger, towards Sebastien. The man curses, pushing the gurney away, looking around, his mind clouded by the drugs as he seeks the knife from amoungst Maya's cluttered equipment.
Sebastien apologizes! He steps around the gurney, head ducked, saying, "I'm sorry monsieur! Is it that you are alright?" He patters around the corpse, giving it a discreet thumbs-up in return, his green-wrapped body sliding up to the urine-perfumed fellow as he reaches forward, patting at the man to see if he's in fact hurt. "I just did not see you there, and ..." he leans over to pick up the knife, staring at it. "I think you may have dropped this," Sebastien comments, turning the blade towards the confused sot. His hand says pain's incoming, while his face says 'I'm here to help!' he points the tip at the seeker, offering a helpful smile.
Maya takes advantage of that confusion, moving behind Sebastien, to the door, with an eye to getting some help. The man himself, he descends into pure confusion, the drugs clouding his mind. Sebastien's words seem to add to the confusion, and he stumbles back against the wall, staring at the other bemusedly. "Drugs, man... I am looking for the drugs..." Maya seems reluctant to move from the doorway, waiting for a response to the alarm she pressed.
"Oh!" Sebastien replies, grinning at the man. Well, this is the wrong room! Here the only addictive thing is the petite Maya. And, ah, of course, the acid you do not want to drop." He winks, and casts a glance back at Maya before waving at the door. "Come on then! I will show you the good stuff." He steps aside, waving towards the door, and stagewhispers, "Just don't break anything else, because then it might be hard to come back in. People will remember you!"
Maya edges from the door as the men move towards it, the confused man going along with Sebastien, willing to go with anyone who may give him drugs. Maya drops down into her chair, staring after them, her face pale, her fingers clasping in her lap to prevent them from shaking. She returns Sebastien's glance, deep gratitude in her eyes. At the moment they are gone, she moves from the chair, moving to the wall beside her computer and leaning against it. Slowly, she slides down the wall, ending up sitting on the floor, her arms around her knees.
The young Sebastien cautiously pokes his head out the door, peering both ways and holding a hand up to still his new friend as he stares out down the hall. Then walking back into the room, he utters, "They're on to you. It's too hot out there. Here!" He reaches back to that gurney and lifts the chunk of debee off the roller in one shucking motion, making a meaty thump as it hits the exam table. "Get on!" Sebastien offers, patting the gurney as he jogs back to reclaim the slightly stained sheet that settled on the floor. The debee gives the young knight the thumbs up.
The man hesitates only a moment before leaping onto the gurney, and covered by the stained sheet, he lies still, panicked by the idea of being caught. Maya herself remains huddled against the wall, hugging her knees tightly. Her hazel eyes are wide, glittering with unshed tears, as she watches Sebastien's interactons. Outside, the security finally respond to the alarm, arriving in the hallway, the other side of the door. A questioning look is given to Sebastien.
"Dridol," Sebastien mouths, one hand pointing at the sheet as he wheels the gurney into the hallway. He whistles softly, looking around at security with an amused look, not stopping as he presses the rolling body-o-fun back towards the security station. Sure, a hundred armored fists could drop on the poor unsuspecting bastard, but he's helpless! And unarmed! "This one is headed for the morgue," he relays, perhaps a little loudly, while nodding significantly at his charge below.
The security guards look from Sebastien to his gurney, a brief moment of confusion on their faces before they reach out, taking control of the gurney, moving it towards one of the security cells for safe keeping. Maya remains, safely on the floor, beside her computer, hugging her legs. She rests her forehead against her knees, closing her eyes. The music seems oddly out of place now, the heavy beat covering any noise she makes.
Presently, from outside, the door opens once again. It takes a while. The door's quiet and empty for a couple of minutes. And then it opens, with a young knight slipping inside, wheeling a new, fresh gurney with folded cloth on top. "Is it that he cut you, mademoiselle?" Sebastien calls across the room, leaning over to peek down at Maya there huddled on the floor. He begins unfolding that cloth, shaking it out.
Maya takes a moment to respond, before she shakes her head, the movement allowing her to brush her face with her hands. "Non. He did not." Her words are quiet and she puts a hand against the wall, to aid her rise. Her face is pale but she tightens her lips as she moves across the floor towards him. "Thank you." The two words are soft, with genuine gratitude behind them. She rests her hands lightly on the table, a slight shake to them. "People don't normally come into the lab. I mean, obviously, staff do if they need something, and sometimes they just come to say hi, and perhaps to ask something but..." She hesitates, the babbling giving away more of her emotions than she hoped.
"I see," Sebastien replies with a faint smirk. "Or to hit on young lab attendants, perhaps?" He draws that sheet aside, laying it someplace nearby, and hefts the corpse once again to plop on the gurney. The front of his green smock has smears of blood and other fluids from handling that bit of debee, but he's remarkably fine with it. He whips the cloth back over the still-stiff body, its scaled green head disappearing from view once more, and he reaches back grab paper towels and disinfectant. Trying to sanitize the work area. His eyes are on his work, his chin set, a faint scowl touching his features.
The joke brings a faint smile to her lips and she watches him for a moment, her arms wrapping around her waist. For a moment, she watches him in silence, her teeth capturing her lower lip, her forehead wrinkled. She closes the distance between them, stopping beside him. "I'm sorry I offended you with all that." The apology is sincere, her face serious. "I prefer it when we are friends." She offers her hand, covered in odd purple streaks from a reactive liquid, to him.
Sebastien laughs at that, stuffing a pile of blue-streaked towels down a biohazard bin before turning to reflexively grab that hand. His grip is coarse, calloused, and firm, the whole of him broad and looming over her. Strong, warm, and suddenly very serious. "Non," he speaks simply, staring down at her. "There will never be a time when I will be this close to you and not wonder. Mademoiselle, I still think of you. Your beauty haunts my dreams." He squares up a bit, the both of his hands wrapping about hers, encapsulating it in rough warmth. A soft cage. "I will never be able to dance with you, drink with you, laugh with you, and not feel pain knowing you chose someone else. You have moved on. So must I. Choices, remember? The terrible thing about them is that they are, ultimately, yours to keep." He releases her hand then, pulling back.
Maya's expression must be a picture, as he speaks. Her cheeks flush and she leaves her hand with his for a moment. She narrows her eyes at him, before she shakes her head slowly. "Wonder what?" She repeats, her face thoughtful. "I didn't realise us being friends was dependent on us having sex." She withdraws her hand, taking a tiny step back, returning that gaze. "I like dancing with you, I like your company. You must do what you want." She shakes her head slowly. "And this isn't about choosing someone else. I'm not with anyone. I just chose not to sleep with you."
"However you wish to describe it," Sebastien replies softly, flashing a quick smile. The young knight steps back, grabbing the gurney to push it back to the door, whistling softly as he does. Something tuneless and upbeat, followed by an "Adieu, Maya!" as he presses that portal open, shrugging his headphones back on to bop his way down the hall once more. Shake-shake-shaking that booty as he goes.
