Who: Shades Darker staff and adjacent! What: Staff mingle! When: ALL MONTH WHY NOT Where: Shades Darker probably Warning(s): Probably some chatting about sex & sex work
(GENERAL OPEN POST! Party style, do what you like, tag around, have a good time.)
[ Her choice of clothing isn't only to dissuade the clientele from trying anything, but also for comfort. It's been seventeen years since she was last able to wear whatever she wanted, bare as much skin as she liked to without worrying about harming others with her mutation. On the bad days, when her mind isn't settled and she's especially haunted by the terrible memories in her past, it helps to have that fabric wrapped around her, almost like a security blanket.
She flashes him another smile, nodding a bit and crossing her arms over her stomach. She's sure he probably finds her a bit odd, unless that English accent is from a very different time where people with names like Rogue and hair striped with white is something normal. But that's okay - she doesn't mind not being normal anymore.
After an awkward moment of silence where she visibly seems to be trying to find something to say, she looks down at his desk, at those cups of coffee that are easier to focus on than his expression. ]
I'm sorry that I haven't really introduced myself before. It's not personal, I just... I don't really trust doctors.
[ ah, so that's it. a caution around doctors and other medical staff isn't uncommon, but it does go some way to explaining... well, a lack of contact that he truly hadn't noticed. still, it seems to be worth mentioning to her, so he'll make the effort too. ]
Honestly, I haven't noticed. There's a lot of people around here. [ John hadn't exactly gone out of his way to introduce himself to her either. to clarify, ] I haven't taken offence.
[ but it doesn't explain why she is here, now. unless she's just feeling bad about not getting to know all her coworkers? there's a lot of staff on premises that John has no reason to interact with, and not knowing them by name only ever strikes him as unfortunate in moments like these, when one wanders into his office and he's left plucking the air for straws and hopes that their names might be written on them. so there is, he assumes, something else. ]
[ He's perceptive. Not that she's trying to hide her deeper purpose for walking into his office, but it's a point in his favor so long as he uses that skill for good. She glances up at him for just a moment, then looks back down again - it's easier to say it without watching his expression. ]
I... was hoping to get your professional opinion on something. If you have a moment.
[ She doesn't wait for his answer before explaining, afraid that if she loses momentum now, she'll just turn and walk right back out the way she'd come. ]
I was injured before I was rescued [ both times ] and while the Orbiters assured me that everything was healing properly, I...
[ Wanted to be sure? Get a second opinion from someone whose knowledge of medicine she might trust a bit more? She reaches up to tuck her hair back behind her ears in a telling nervous gesture, and her gaze stays firmly on his desk. ]
[ John finishes, careful. it's a sensible reaction to the extraordinary, wanting familiar confirmation of unfamiliar circumstances - the impressive part is that she'd seek that even with an aversion to doctors in general. smiling, not that she can see it, he nods. ]
That's no problem. I can do it for you now or you can come back another time, [ best to reassure her she's not locked herself into some hidden contract by mentioning it to him ] I'm in most days.
I think... now would be better, if you don't mind. If I leave and say I'll come back, I probably never will.
[ Better to do it now and just get it over with while she still has the nerve. He's right to be impressed by it, even she is a bit, but she's been trying to impress upon herself that she can't stay scared forever. Letting the memory of her ordeal rule her life is just allowing those monsters to win. ]
[ that said, John's up from his chair and coming around his desk, careful to take his time. he perches on the corner until he can ascertain a few more details. ]
[ Clinical, that's how she needs to handle it. It's only a body, broken and healed now. She's a survivor who can't be hurt by it anymore unless she lets herself be. Standing a bit taller as if Sterling herself for the telling, she takes a shallow breath and dives in. ]
They called it harvesting. Strips of skin and tissue were taken from my back for study. [ for experimentation ]
John's face falls. the trace of friendly animation it had worn to calm her drops away with the information, unexpected as it is. harvesting. there's moment of quiet from him, recalibrating, refocusing.
it's really no wonder she has an aversion to doctors, and suddenly John's privy to exactly why. finally, and with a different tone to his approach now: stripped of some of the doctor's joviality, perhaps. talking to her more like he would one of his patients who have seen worse things than a broken leg and a sore throat. ]
Alright. Anything else?
[ just to be sure of everything he needs to check, before he examines. the quicker he can make this, the better. ]
[ It hurts to see that change in him, as much as she does truly appreciate it. Because now he *knows*, and he never unknow it. As often as she's told people about the war here, and casually mentioned her years of imprisonment, less than a handful now have actually had a glimpse of what she went through. And that's all it is, just a glimpse, because-- ]
[ right. there's two new pieces of information here - heal and everything before this. both go accepted quietly, the briefest pause followed by a nod. he's met people who can do extraordinary things. even if she means heal actively rather than passively, it's something he can accept. further revelations about her prior circumstances can go met with care and quiet and no further flinch if only because he's been doctor, soldier, crime scene spectator and detective, and there comes a point in all of those where you learn when you need to steel yourself and push through.
it isn't about him. she doesn't need to see that he's affected, she needs to see that he's capable. ]
Okay. [ okay. ] I'll take a look at the area then. If you could just turn around and lift up or take off whatever you need to, to give me a clear view of where the damage was.
Edited (the heck was that html) 2017-09-29 22:06 (UTC)
[ That professionalism is a large part of why she's chosen to come to him rather than visit the Sanctuary. Aside from the fact that they would ask what had happened and she'd have to lie so much more than she would if he did, she's heard from the various people around Shades Darker that he's different than the Sanctuary types, which most everyone seems to appreciate. She's putting a lot of trust in that professionalism, as evidence by the way she simply nods at the instructions and moves to follow them.
Reaching up under the back of her shirt, she unhooks her bra with practiced ease before turning to put her back to him. She takes home of the bottom of her shirt and tugs it up over her head, pulling all of the fabric down and gathering it at her chest, the sleeves still over her forearms to keep it all together and give her some covering. The whole process takes seconds, very quickly revealing the long thick strips of scar tissue that looks almost like a botched skin graft. Her hair hangs down just long enough to cover the tops of the still healing scars that reach from her lower back up to just under her shoulder blades, all of them the deep purpley-red of a newer scar not yet faded, the color standing out starkly against her pale skin.
And then she just waits expectantly, far too used to having parts of her examined by strangers to feel any sort of embarrassment. ]
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no subject
She flashes him another smile, nodding a bit and crossing her arms over her stomach. She's sure he probably finds her a bit odd, unless that English accent is from a very different time where people with names like Rogue and hair striped with white is something normal. But that's okay - she doesn't mind not being normal anymore.
After an awkward moment of silence where she visibly seems to be trying to find something to say, she looks down at his desk, at those cups of coffee that are easier to focus on than his expression. ]
I'm sorry that I haven't really introduced myself before. It's not personal, I just... I don't really trust doctors.
no subject
Honestly, I haven't noticed. There's a lot of people around here. [ John hadn't exactly gone out of his way to introduce himself to her either. to clarify, ] I haven't taken offence.
[ but it doesn't explain why she is here, now. unless she's just feeling bad about not getting to know all her coworkers? there's a lot of staff on premises that John has no reason to interact with, and not knowing them by name only ever strikes him as unfortunate in moments like these, when one wanders into his office and he's left plucking the air for straws and hopes that their names might be written on them. so there is, he assumes, something else. ]
Can I help you with something?
no subject
I... was hoping to get your professional opinion on something. If you have a moment.
[ She doesn't wait for his answer before explaining, afraid that if she loses momentum now, she'll just turn and walk right back out the way she'd come. ]
I was injured before I was rescued [ both times ] and while the Orbiters assured me that everything was healing properly, I...
[ Wanted to be sure? Get a second opinion from someone whose knowledge of medicine she might trust a bit more? She reaches up to tuck her hair back behind her ears in a telling nervous gesture, and her gaze stays firmly on his desk. ]
no subject
[ John finishes, careful. it's a sensible reaction to the extraordinary, wanting familiar confirmation of unfamiliar circumstances - the impressive part is that she'd seek that even with an aversion to doctors in general. smiling, not that she can see it, he nods. ]
That's no problem. I can do it for you now or you can come back another time, [ best to reassure her she's not locked herself into some hidden contract by mentioning it to him ] I'm in most days.
no subject
[ Better to do it now and just get it over with while she still has the nerve. He's right to be impressed by it, even she is a bit, but she's been trying to impress upon herself that she can't stay scared forever. Letting the memory of her ordeal rule her life is just allowing those monsters to win. ]
no subject
[ that said, John's up from his chair and coming around his desk, careful to take his time. he perches on the corner until he can ascertain a few more details. ]
What was the injury, before the cleared it up?
no subject
They called it harvesting. Strips of skin and tissue were taken from my back for study. [ for experimentation ]
no subject
John's face falls. the trace of friendly animation it had worn to calm her drops away with the information, unexpected as it is. harvesting. there's moment of quiet from him, recalibrating, refocusing.
it's really no wonder she has an aversion to doctors, and suddenly John's privy to exactly why. finally, and with a different tone to his approach now: stripped of some of the doctor's joviality, perhaps. talking to her more like he would one of his patients who have seen worse things than a broken leg and a sore throat. ]
Alright. Anything else?
[ just to be sure of everything he needs to check, before he examines. the quicker he can make this, the better. ]
no subject
No. I was able to heal everything before this.
no subject
it isn't about him. she doesn't need to see that he's affected, she needs to see that he's capable. ]
Okay. [ okay. ] I'll take a look at the area then. If you could just turn around and lift up or take off whatever you need to, to give me a clear view of where the damage was.
no subject
Reaching up under the back of her shirt, she unhooks her bra with practiced ease before turning to put her back to him. She takes home of the bottom of her shirt and tugs it up over her head, pulling all of the fabric down and gathering it at her chest, the sleeves still over her forearms to keep it all together and give her some covering. The whole process takes seconds, very quickly revealing the long thick strips of scar tissue that looks almost like a botched skin graft. Her hair hangs down just long enough to cover the tops of the still healing scars that reach from her lower back up to just under her shoulder blades, all of them the deep purpley-red of a newer scar not yet faded, the color standing out starkly against her pale skin.
And then she just waits expectantly, far too used to having parts of her examined by strangers to feel any sort of embarrassment. ]