handofrapture (
handofrapture) wrote in
thisavrou_log2017-02-10 08:45 pm
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Entry tags:
and you might say it's self-destructive [closed]
Who: Big Sister and Angela Ziegler
When: Early February
Where: A hospital in Kauto
What: Mercy finds the Big Sister poking around a hospital looking for drugs. Y’know, as one does.
Warnings: Discussion of drugs and addiction
[Ever since she arrived in this strange new world, the Big Sister’s inability to speak or write has been a constant obstacle. Unlike Rapture, people here actually expect her to communicate which, for a Big Sister, is a fairly tall order. Usually, it leads to mutual frustration. Here, though? It actually serves her purposes quite well.
She’s been left in a doctor’s office after the staff weren’t sure what else to do with her. After all, nothing about her appearance looks particularly healthy – the dull, grayish skin and yellow film over her eyes make sure of that – but neither could they figure out a way to ask her what’s wrong. So they simply booked her for a physical exam with the next available doctor and hoped for the best.
Not that the Big Sister is actually planning to stick around to see this “doctor.” She’s out of the room the second the nurse’s head is turned, eyes wide and alert as she moves through the hospital’s corridors. There has to be somewhere here that they work with plasmids – if she can find those, she’ll be sure to find ADAM.
She does her best to stay out of sight, easier now that she’s out of her clunky armor. This place doesn’t have all of Rapture’s dark corners, but there are enough rooms that she never runs out of places to duck into. It’s just that eventually, one of those rooms isn't empty...]
When: Early February
Where: A hospital in Kauto
What: Mercy finds the Big Sister poking around a hospital looking for drugs. Y’know, as one does.
Warnings: Discussion of drugs and addiction
[Ever since she arrived in this strange new world, the Big Sister’s inability to speak or write has been a constant obstacle. Unlike Rapture, people here actually expect her to communicate which, for a Big Sister, is a fairly tall order. Usually, it leads to mutual frustration. Here, though? It actually serves her purposes quite well.
She’s been left in a doctor’s office after the staff weren’t sure what else to do with her. After all, nothing about her appearance looks particularly healthy – the dull, grayish skin and yellow film over her eyes make sure of that – but neither could they figure out a way to ask her what’s wrong. So they simply booked her for a physical exam with the next available doctor and hoped for the best.
Not that the Big Sister is actually planning to stick around to see this “doctor.” She’s out of the room the second the nurse’s head is turned, eyes wide and alert as she moves through the hospital’s corridors. There has to be somewhere here that they work with plasmids – if she can find those, she’ll be sure to find ADAM.
She does her best to stay out of sight, easier now that she’s out of her clunky armor. This place doesn’t have all of Rapture’s dark corners, but there are enough rooms that she never runs out of places to duck into. It’s just that eventually, one of those rooms isn't empty...]
HOMERUN SLIDES IN HERE
That she received a call to assist the addled young girl who couldn't communicate with anyone who's approached her is not a surprise, and Angela's on her way with a couple different tools in hand. Paper and colored pencils, a tablet, and a scrounged up journal of her own with some basic medical care questions in American Sign Language, the base for many of the others picked up around the world. There's no guarantee anything will look familiar, but she doesn't mind setting aside a few hours toward the end of her shift to try. Her supplies were set aside and she's washing her hands after handling a cart of soiled linens left in the hall when the door opens behind her and she's peering over her shoulder, but she recognizes the vague description given of the girl she was to go see.
Blue eyes widen a fraction with the surprise, but she's already drying her hands and discarding the paper towel when she smiles. She speaks as clearly as she can with her accent (Germanic to those who know it, but softer and a touch musical in her particular dialect), never raising her voice as she waves a hand in greeting. ]
Hello, dear. I believe I was just coming to see you.
[ The doctor's scooping up her supplies and showing them to her impromptu visitor; clearly drawing materials. Her attention is rapt for any sign of recognition, confusion, or otherwise. ]
woo! \o/
In fact, the doctor may notice the chairs in the room beginning to rattle as she turns around – only to abruptly stop when the Big Sister sees what’s in her hands. They aren’t scalpels or drills or any sort of medical equipment at all. They’re… pencils? The Big Sister’s eyes narrow and then dart around the room, as if she’s searching for some sign of a trap. This woman is a doctor, isn’t she?
Or perhaps she’s more like the people she had encountered when she first walked into the hospital, who had given her pens and papers and asked her to write things down. Yes, that must be it. Why else would she be showing her these pencils and paper? The growling stops as the Big Sister relaxes slightly. She doesn't know why the people here keep asking her to write things down, but the process seems harmless enough. Especially since she can't actually do as they ask.
She looks again at the pencils in the woman’s hands, noticing that they’re pleasingly colored. Her gaze snaps back up to the woman, still suspicious, but not as outright hostile as before. She cautiously extends a hand, still alert for any evidence of trickery.
Is the woman giving her those?]
no subject
That only really leaves one option then, no? Angela splits the stack of paper to set on the wash counter and the proffered colors remain in her hands, spread out to offer the butt ends, points turned in toward her. She meets every glance up to her with patience and an idle smile, small yet warm. There's an inviting nod as the girl reaches toward her, remaining still but to fan the pencils out to make it easier to grasp. ]
I had heard you don't speak, and there was difficulty getting you to write, so I thought we might draw, instead. Though I'm afraid I'm not a very good artist.
[ Her smile widens a little with the lightness of her words, but she'll wait until some pencils have been taken before turning to lay the rest between the two stacks of paper, picking out a pink one to begin drawing... an anatomically-correct heart, for the most part. Somehow, it's still a little cute— perhaps only because is, indeed, not very skilled in art. She begins to form a body around it, sketched in light before solidifying it in corner, glancing back over to add a few details here and there.
Dr. Angela Ziegler is absolutely drawing Big Sister, right now, if the long black hair has anything to say about it. ]
no subject
Still, she can’t say she's displeased with the solution. For a moment, she even wonders if this woman had seen the broadcast she had made with her TAB a few weeks earlier. She had depended on drawing then too – though remembering the response to that message is enough to make the Big Sister bristle even now.
But this isn't the same – for one, there’s something very immediate to gain being held right in front of her. She remains wary as she inches closer and grabs a few pencils, not even glancing down to see what colors she’s taking. Whatever she gets, it's more than she had before. Prize in hand, she backs away again, not even letting her guard down as the woman turns away and begins to draw on one stack of paper. The Big Sister only looks away once, towards the door. She could leave now. The woman’s attention is divided and the door isn’t locked. She’s honestly considering it – until she notices the woman glance at her.
It isn’t that she’s afraid of being caught. The woman doesn’t seem to be watching for any attempts at escape, and even if she were, the Big Sister is quite sure she could handle one woman who doesn’t even smell of ADAM. Instead, it’s the fact that the woman seems to be looking at her for reference that really gets the Big Sister’s attention. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that the woman was drawing–
Her. Standing at full height, she can easily see the drawing over the woman’s arm and make out an image of a tall girl with black hair and a pink, lumpish heart. She doesn’t move closer, colored pencils still clutched in her own hand as she watches the drawing take shape – but she’s no longer moving towards the door either.]
no subject
There's a flash of recognition, a return of wariness, and then the faintest sensation of bristling— yet she snatches a few pencils and remains in the room as Angela begins her doodling, clearly no art student but fine enough at encompassing the anatomical basics.
And a touch of amusement quirks her lips when she realizes she's caught the girl's attention, and she begins adding in a few other details. Organs, mostly, though not nearly all of them— there are lungs, and a stomach, and the general suggestion of intestines. People don't exactly feel their bladder or their diaphragm, after all. On second thought, she'll add kidneys, though.
Right. Not the best, but: ]
And here we are. You don't seem to be hurt, but if you're in pain, can you show me where, and what sort of pain it is? Here; if it's a sharp stabbing pain, draw this. [ And with a quick little stick figure on the side, she draws an arrow pointing to the stomach. ] Or if it's an ache, like you'd bumped into something and it still hurts later, maybe this? [ Squiggly lines by the "shin" of the leg, not that stick figures had knees. ] Or if there's anything else you'd like to draw, we can figure it out.
no subject
Her gaze moves from the drawing to the woman. Would she be willing to help if she knew what the Big Sister had come here for? Perhaps, like many things in Rapture, it would come at a price, but that’s still more of a chance than the Big Sister has now. And if the woman should refuse her, she won’t be any worse off than she is now.
Still, her gaze is dubious as she draws closer, staying on the woman until she’s close enough to snatch the drawing away and step back. Once she has some distance between them again, she presses the paper against the wall and begins to draw, gaze snapping up every few seconds as if watching for the woman’s reaction. She starts with a grey pencil (she hadn’t taken a black one), drawing a line extending out of the figure’s wrist. Attached to the line is a rectangle, with a small T-shape extending out of its opposite side. With some squinting, one may be able to recognize the shape as that of a crude syringe. Once that’s done, the Big Sister fills in the rectangle with red. She circles the shape once for emphasis, and then, in a shaky hand that speaks more to memorization than understanding, she writes a single word in broken red letters: ADAM.
She looks at the drawing for a moment more – and then suddenly turns the paper away, hiding it from view. She looks from the paper pressed against her chest back to the woman, her eyes narrowing as a growl of warning escapes her throat.
If the woman laughs, she will hurt her.]
no subject
Then it's finished, considered, and promptly snatched up against the girl's chest to hide it from view with a warning. Angela's smile widens just a fraction and her brows draw up, head tipping. ]
It's all right; my abilities are far from passable, I have no reason to judge. May I see?
[ As if she hadn't been watching already. Welp. The point is, this is to be done on the patient's terms, even if it's here in the washroom intended for staff. ]
no subject
After a moment, she looks back up at the woman—and, dipping her head once as a sign of permission, holds the paper out to her.]