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.)
[ 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
[ 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. ]