nysalogs | the sky was made of amethyst ( & open )

For emergencies, then. As much as I want to say they'll collect dust in a drawer here, if we might have a mythical dragon in our midst... [Who can say what will happen, or what might be needed?

Claire rests a hand on her hip, leaning in to watch him scribble out the formula, and then carefully folding it up and putting it back into the bag once it's in her hands.

She knows mostly medieval-y folk. But she'll keep an eye out, now.]

I'm a decent negotiator.

Weird stuff goes on, you never know. [ Jim's first guinea pig (besides himself, of course, a solid patient zero considering all his allergies) for this medical ooze was the mysterious Alan Foster, slinking uninvited into his apartment in the dead of night, nearly bleeding out like a dope. ]

That's good. [ Negotiating. Jim thought he was, but-- money? Above his head, honestly. He's got enough to spare purely because he barely spends any. Ridiculous, this whole setup where people have to pay for shelter and food. There's a reason those kinds of abuses died out on Earth. ]

Well. [ He gives her a lopsided smile, and shrugs. ] That's it from me, I guess. Do you need any help while I'm here? I dunno when I'll be back down here, I've committed to being up on Thesa most of time.

[Space goop would have been useful when people were being flayed, but alas. Claire steps away to put her treasure away, in a lock box that's sitting on some boxes of things to be properly stored. As much as she appreciates her helpers, and trusts them, she's the only one with the key.]

I think I'm good when it comes to help. I've had to make up some jobs for people to do, even.

[But! There is always one more.]

Do you drink, Captain?

[ Maybe someone else will get flayed! Wait.

Jim smiles. ] With the best of them.

[ Slower, these days, with a small bit of his tolerance shaved off by years of drinking synthehol in space, the real shit only for special occasions, or when somebody in engineering tried for a still. Again. (Officially, Captain Kirk doesn't know anything about that, so he can't incriminate himself.) ]

Well, then have a seat. There should be a stool over there, somewhere. [Under the boxes and the layer of dust. It's fine. Just clean it off. Claire, meanwhile, rummages through a basket she'd brought in earlier in the day. She's been spending most of her hours here, so she's needed to eat--and drink, occasionally. Explains why some of the bottle she fishes out is missing.]

You can help me empty this some so I don't have to carry it back home.

[And it's her way of saying thanks.]

[ Jim does as he's bid, setting aside boxes (neatly, that military training bleeding through), and putting up stools. Despite the neatness he doesn't mind dust; it's not like he's in uniform, anyway, he runs around in durable, dark colors that offend neither city, his silver badge pinned to his shirt high on his breastbone, hidden except for brief glimpses by his jacket. ]

As long as you join me, [ he says, amiable. ] I've been told off too many times about drinking alone - by my chief medical officer, in fact. You'll never guess what his solution is.

I'm a charitable woman, but not that charitable. [She finds two cups in a box, and blows the dust out of them before joining him once more.] A colleague of mine used to always say there wasn't anything a good martini couldn't cure. Or whatever else we had on hand. [There was a reason Joe Abernathy was her best friend for fifteen years.]

And drinking alone is fine... as long as no one is aware of it.

[God knows she's done plenty of that. Claire carefully pours him a drink before handing it over, and then sits before pouring her own and setting the bottle on the ground.]

Cheers to the future, and actually not needing to use your generous gift.

I grew up a well whiskey and cheap beer guy, [ he says, laughing quietly. He says a quiet 'thanks' when she passes him the glass, and then raises it to give the ghost of a salute to her toast. ]

Cheers to all of that.

[ He takes a drink. Mm, real booze. One of the great parts of being stuck on this weird rock. ]

How have things been, outside the clinic effort?

[Getting right to it, isn't he? Claire takes a long pull from her drink before replying, considering how much to say. The last month has been a ride.]

You remember our conversation after Ramsay's post, don't you? [She'd been upset, because Theon had returned to stasis. Upset because of Ramsay, and upset because she was relieved the unhappy young man was gone and perhaps in a place where he could find some semblance of peace.]

Theon did end up coming out of stasis shortly after. He's part of the reason I've been in a hurry to get this off the ground. [Her free hand motions to the building around them.] He's in a sorry state. I don't mind doing housecalls, but if procedures need to be done, I don't think I want to subject anyone's roommates to an unsightly surprise in their kitchen on a Monday evening after work.

Edited (oop) 2018-06-08 02:53 (UTC)

[ Look, all Jim's potential topics for the past few weeks are 'I think something horrible is lurking out in space and the Natha are desperately hiding us from it' or 'I got laid a bunch in Khalo'. ]

Poor kid, [ he says, sounding sincere. Jim's ANCIENT AGE of thirty-one whole years is possibly not old enough to be calling anyone kid, but it's the way she talks about him. The protectiveness shines through. (Once in a blue moon, Jim seems older than he is, having Seen Some Shit, but not anything like cable TV prestige drama shit, sooooo.) ] It's good he's got you looking after him.

This whole clinic, I think, is a great thing.

[Claire smiles softly, looking down at her drink. She's heard that a lot, lately. That Theon is lucky to have her looking after him, that it's good she's there for him. She doesn't doubt that he'd be worse off if she wasn't around, but she'll always wonder if there's not more she could be doing.

But she had always wondered that with Bree, too.]

Thank you. When we first got here, I put my all into working at the Sanctuary. It reminded me of a charity hospital I used to work at, in Paris. It was... remarkable. Run by nuns, and one of the true places in the city where the less fortunate were treated like people and not left to die on the streets. I don't think I could ever manage anything that grand, but I do feel better knowing that this place will be around if the Sanctuary should shut its doors again.

Besides. I've spent too long being upset about it and not actually doing anything about it.

[ Nothing ever feels like enough, when you can't just perform a miracle and fix everything. Jim would understand, if she expressed that feeling. ]

'Charity'. [ His smile is a little sad. ] That concept is something I only hear about in history books or on other worlds. And yet it's the... spirit, I guess, of what rebuilt the Earth.

[ A little bleak? A little hopeful, too. He hopes. (Hah.) ]

Doing something is always preferable, in my experience.

What do you mean, about charity? [She's not sure if he's joking or not.] Did it go the way of the dinosaurs or something in your world?

I guess it did. The way we live-- we don't have money. No currency at all, the economy doesn't run like that. Shelter, food, medical care, education, necessities for daily life, those are all things everyone is entitled to, and given.

[ He takes a drink. ]

Every planet in the Federation is that way. It's a requirement for membership. I mean, there's no such thing as Utopia. People still struggle and fuck up. Being here is just... [ Jim trails off, shakes his head. ] It's surreal.

[One day, he's going to make her eyebrows fly straight up off her forehead. She mumbles a Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ under her breath before taking a drink herself, needing the help of the alcohol to imagine such a world.]

Surreal? More like barbaric, I bet.

[ He can't help but laugh quietly at her reaction. ]

There's definitely been a learning curve. [ Explains more why he's uncomfortable with the idea of anyone charging for his basic bitch cadet chemistry, probably. ]

I understand. So that's why you were so eager to pay off anyone who could understand that formula, if they didn't want to be a good samaritan. You're making more sense, Captain.

[There's a fondness in the words. What a world he must have lived in, to travel to different planets, and to theoretically not encounter corpses on the streets.]

It may not be that impressive of a gesture, [ he admits. ] Money doesn't hold any significance to me. I understand the basic mathematical requirement of it to function, but besides the necessities I don't really spend any. It just sits there so.. [ an absent gesture. ] I dunno. Just trying to help, I guess.

You are helping.

[Even if it's just helping her empty the bottle. It's more than that. Claire motions upwards with her cup as she speaks.]

How are things upstairs?

Mm. [ Another drink from his cup, quick enough that his voice veers on hoarse when he says, ] Now there's a question.

[ If that's not implying yikes, who knows what would. ]

Still quiet. I've just about got a hold on things, but who knows how long it'll last unless the Natha return, or if things go to shit down here. If we end up having to evacuate, I'm not sure the low-power mode it's in will be able to comfortably sustain everyone for too long.

[Claire, being the helper that she is, leans down to pick up the bottle and top off his drink. He probably needs it, given that response.]

So, if we have an angry dragon on our hands... it's not looking good for us. Or, if we're forced to flee, we're going to be out in the wilderness instead of anywhere with central air.

[ He gives her a lopsided smile at the refill. Thanks. ]

It'd be alright, possibly for months, or longer. It's a huge facility and it's engineered well. But you never know with sudden stresses - the safety of the people in stasis is a priority.

[ Jim's not going to tell her why it's in low-power mode. Not yet. It's one of those details he and the others who've been working on the repairs and overall mystery have mutually decided not to let out for as long as they can stall it, in case of panic. ]

But we also have a moral conundrum about it.

Moral conundrum?

[She asks, but she has a feeling she knows. Claire frowns as she adds a bit more to her own drink, the glass bottle clinking gently on the floor when she sets it down.]

[ Jim spreads his hands. ] If something truly horrific happens down here, necessitating the use of Thesa as a sanctuary, do we leave the natives to die?

[ Probably, she saw that one coming. But still. It's something they have to think about, in the harshest terms. ]

Us or them.

[She figured, but it's still not any easier to hear. Claire sighs, crossing one leg over the other so she can rest her elbow on her knee as she hunches over some in thought.]

There's so many people here that... even if Thesa was in good shape, it'd be difficult, wouldn't it?

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