Let Sleeping Wren's Lie
Invictus - Crew Commons =>Invictus<=
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This is the ship's common room, a place for the crew to relax, eat, and talk. In the middle of the room is a big table with comfortable chairs placed around it. To the port side near the Med Bay's entrance is a simple kitchen beside a basic storage rack for food and drinks. Starboard, the entry to the Crew Quarters can be found, as well as a number of large lockers for the crew's kit storage. To the room's aft are placed some couches opposite to a Cortex terminal and a large screen where currently some sort of gaming console appears to be hooked up. Between the couches, a small table holds some books and other things to read. Finally, to the front near the entrance to the Captain's Quarters, a corkscrew stairway up to the Bridge can be seen.
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At first, Gabby is not within immediate sight. In fact, one could completely miss the fact that she was in the room at first glance with the exception of the line of smoke drifting up from one of the couches in the middle of the room. She lays half curled on the couch on her side, a pillow tucked beneath her head. A pair of optic feed lenses are visible on her face, eyes scanning rapidly back and forth between the two different streams. A cigarette dangles from the hand draped off the side of the couch, an almost overflowing ashtray on the floor beside a laptop on the floor.
Padding down the corridor to the commons, Wren pauses as she spies the smoke signals being generated in the corner. Head tilting, she searches out the source, not seeming overly surprised when it turns out to be Gabby. She pokes a finger into the rising smoke, disturbing its cohesion as she drags her hand across it.
"Cross reference ident record A7-B10-H92 with vid screen capture HAV19." Gabriella orders, a hitch in the data glitzing across one of the streams, then a moment later, across the other. A sigh, and another drag is taken. "Continue ident scroll back." She says, leaning over a bit to crush the cigarette out into the ashtray, the form of Wren appearing seemingly suddenly and out of nowhere in front of her, bringing a yelp! from her. "What the... " She gasps, startled.
Wren stares back, eyes wide at the yelp from Gabriella. "Walking. Perambulation. Wandering. Locomotion," she rattles off after several moments of puzzled thought.
"Yes.. " Gabriella says, after remembering how to breathe, "Computer, pause ident scroll back." Gabriella says, pulling the ear piece and microphone out of her ear, then each of the separate holo vid lenses. All carefully folded and tucked away, after the cigarette is crushed out. She still doesn't sit up, laying half curled on the couch, the wounded leg stretched out and propped up on a couple of smaller pillows. "Walking. Very quietly." She says, half chiding, but not really scolding. A sigh, and she rubs at the bridge of her nose.
"You're twitchy," Wren returns in a similar fashion, watching as Gabby puts things away. "I saw smoke," she adds, shrugging a little and taking a seat on the floor nearby. "Grey says they don't," she also notes, seeming pleased.
"Yeah, well...." Gabriella grumbles. "Get shot and you'd be twitchy too." She mutters with a sigh, scooching down and stretching out a little more on the couch, now that she didn't have to keep an eye on the computer too. "Grey says what doesn't do what?" She asks, one hand raising to scrape and tousle the hair that for once was loose in a swirl around her, then catching it and twisting it loosely to toss back behind her.
"Guests, count," Wren answers, watching the hair as it swirls. "Long hair gets matted in blood," she says matter-of-factly, merely noting a practical concern.
"Guests count what?" Gabriella sounds utterly confused at this point, glancing back up at the girl still hovering over the back of the couch. "And... that's why I usually where it up." Gabriella says dryly, motioning for Wren to come around the other side so she doesn't have to keep twisting half backwards. "Guests don't count what now?"
Wren peers upward at the waving hand, and waves back after a moment. As a please-move-over-here gesture it doesn't seem to have communicated the message to her, leaning back against one palm braced on the floor. "You're not making sense," she notes in an extremely reasonable tone.
Gabriella takes a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment as she replays back the last few minutes. "Grey says guests don't count. What is they don't count?" Gabriella says, her eyes opening again as she turns her gaze back to Wren.
"As crew," Wren responds easily, studying Gabby curiously. "Post traumatic stress disorder is common after traumatic events," she observes after a little while. "Time delays."
"Oh. Well. They're not crew." Gabriella says, half trying to figure out what the line of confusion was there.... But she shakes it off, pulling another cigarette from her pack and tucking it between her lips, the zippo flicking open with a metallic 'ding'. "Yeah, well. So's going out and getting laid, but you don't see me doing that either, now do you." She mutters, flicking the flame on and taking a series of quick, rapid puffs to light the cigarette. She watches the dancing colors of the flame for a moment before glancing back up and snapping the lighter closed. Pack and zippo get dropped on the floor. "So. How goes the drying of the herbs?"
"Orgasm is effective stress release," Wren states matter-of-factly, shrugging her shoulders. "Mostly done," she continues thoughtfully. "Tomatoes an' peppers are gettin' started-- Alabaster wants to try cucumbers," she informs her, watching the dissipating smoke.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, it is." Gabriella says, shifting back onto her back, carefully rolling her leg to stretch out, keeping it on the side of the calf, rather than the back. "Mmm. I heard rumors about strawberries." Gabriella says, her gaze as well following the next cloud of smoke upwards towards the ceiling vent. "I've always liked strawberries best." She says, more to herself than anything.
"Gotta get the tomatoes an' peppers started first," Wren replies, yawning hugely as her eyes follow the smoke trail. "But I've got one in my room, if'n you want a few in the meantime," she offers.
"You shouldn't tempt me." Gabriella says dryly, another long drag taken, a slow, careful release bringing about a lazy swirling smoke ring. She falls quiet again after that, chest rising and falling in slow, easy patterns, eyes half lidded, the hand with the cigarette resting on the slight inwards slope of her stomach.
"Why?" Wren queries, shifting on the floor until she can lean against the couch, head tilted back. One hand scrubs across her face, rubbing herself awake. Seems Gabby may not be the only person missing sleep.
"'Cause I might just take you up on it." Gabriella says with a sigh, scooping up the ashtray to place on her stomach so as not to have to lean again. "And I sometimes, occasionally find that giving in to temptation is not the best of ideas."
Wren is silent for a long time, watching the smoke as it swirls and eddies through the air. "Random neuronal firings-- if the brain wasn't kept flooded with inhibitors, it would seize constantly. Gamma-aminobutyric acid-- the trick is to fire less, not more," she suddenly states aloud.
"Sure." Gabriella says lazily in response to Wren's burst of information. "Inhibitions are good, sometimes. Bad other though.... Keep you from doing the things you want, going the places you want to go. Fear's one of those chemical reactions that falls under both good, and bad. But I suppose any emotion could go both ways. Love. Hate. Anger. Even happiness." Gabriella says with a shrug. A flick of the cigarette and the ashes dash towards the glass tray on her stomach. Another long drag in, a lazy breath out.
The silence stretches again, Wren's eyes falling shut despite her efforts to keep them open. Slow, even breathing suggests she may have fallen asleep, head pillowed against the couch, her hands curled loosely in her lap.
Gabriella half crushes out the cigarette into the ashtray after one last drag, eyes watching the glass tray rise and fall with her breaths. Lashes fluttered, fighting to stay open, her brows furrowing slightly, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips.... but it all smoothes out soon enough as the lashes finally drift closed, one hand draped across her stomach, the other half hanging off the side of the couch. Exhaustion had finally won out.
Thwop. Thwop. Thw-thwop. Scritch, scritch...
Thwop...
Suddenly, something soft and furry and alive begins to nibble at one of Wren's fingers.
Wren mutters in her sleep, reflexively pulling her fingers away from the fuzzy nibbling. Her head tosses fitfully, a frown creasing her forehead as she tries to pull herself free from the depths of sleep. But sleep is a country with ill-defined borders, and finding your way across can be treacherous. "Stoppit Bree," the girl mumbles, pushing a little at the warm furry body.
A sigh at the mumbled sounds, her head rolling to the other side, resettling into the couch a bit. A soft whine as her bandaged leg rolls onto the injured section, but another slight movement and she's drifting back into dream world...
"Shhh, Bree--" Wren continues to mumble, words randomly intelligible as she squirms away from the persistent attention of the warm furry thing investigating her sleep. "...hear us..." she rambles, words becoming increasingly anxious.
Eyes open briefly, blankly, a sigh and a hand flops. "Hone... " A sigh. "'S'your turn... baby." She mumbles, lids drooping down again, head snuggling again into the pillow.
The furry thing moves up behind Wren and up onto a cabinet behind her. Leaning down, it nibbles more. But this time, sharp little teeth catch flesh and draw blood... Like a pinprick... From Wren's ear.
A little tail wriggles in an attempt at maintaining playful balance, while little claws scritch to maintain purchase.
Uneasiness continues to mount, evidenced by Wren's uneven breathing and sudden twitching in response to things only she can see and hear. "No-- don't-- please..." her voice morphs from defiant to pleading to desperation. She drops into an eerie silence at the sudden prick of sharp teeth, mutterings stilled, not even breathing for a long heartbeat that stretches. The silence is broken by a sudden gasping inhalation, her whole body bowing backwards, arching painfully as her eyes snap open. She screams, striking out with one hand at the hapless animal-- which scampered away at the first unexpected movement, probably disappearing under some cover.
Another whine as continued mutterings try and force their way into her brain, the arm hanging off the side of the couch raising up to cover her eyes. "Honey, get the--" Whatever she was going to say gets cut off by the sharp, piercing scream, which brings her hurling up to her feet. "Reyanna!" She cries, the ashtray flung off by the sweeping movement, ricocheting across the ground and cracking in half as it hits the wall... Followed by a sharp cry of her own as her leg buckled under the full weight of her body and she ends up half on the couch, half on the floor, hands wrapped around her leg as she stares wildly around the room, trying to figure out exactly what just happened.
Wren is scuttling away on the floor, her hands clapped protectively around her head making the task far more awkward than it would otherwise be. Another scream follows Gabby's cry, her eyes wide and wild with fright. "No more drilling-- burrs and holes and bits and pieces of my brains falling out," she yells, the words tripping over themselves in a rush of confused speech.
Suddenly, a mongoose comes flying about the room, over Gabriella's head and/or shoulders, over Wren's legs... And up and around a pair of long, suit-trouser-clad legs belonging to one VERY startled-looking Doctor Zahara Ayasha.
The woman is standing just inside the Commons, apparently on her way to the Med bay, when the furry soft little creature settles on her shoulders and buries itself partially under her hair. It chatters warningly at the two screamers and then in Zahara's ear... As if tattling on them. The two big scary noise makers!
Zahara pets the animal reassuringly, but absent-mindedly as she looks around in surprised horror before at last yelling out, her accent thicker than ever:
"Quuuuuuuiiiiiiieeeeeeeet, you lot!!!!"
"What the gorram fuckin' hell is goin' on?!" Gabriella hollers as Wren skitters away, collapsing all the way down to the floor as she presses tight against her leg, teeth gritting as she fights the urge to pick up the half of the ashtray closest and fling it at the girl. Fortunately for Wren, that would mean that she would have to let go of her leg, and right now that doesn't really seem to be an option.
A blur of motion catches her eyes as the thing between a weasel and a bear comes flying by, eliciting another shriek and an instinctive swat (good thing she has poor aim), dragging herself another foot to the opposite side. "Wha-- You-- Arrrrrrgh!" Is Gabby's spluttered and shocked outburst at Zahara's yell, her jaw dropping slightly as she tries desperately to get some idea of what exactly has just occurred.
All the lights are on, but nobody's really home. Wren takes one startled look at Zahara and then starts shaking her head from side to side. "No, no, no!" she shouts, all reason vanished from her eyes as her gaze darts around the room. Looking for an exit. Looking for a weapon. She's not exactly rational in her choices, however. The nearest object at hand is simply a magazine someone left lying out, and she flings it at Zahara as she beats feet toward the corridor.
Setting the mongoose down, who continues to chatter angrily and hop in place, tail a-bristle, Zahara runs after Wren, making an almost flying tackle at Wren. She manages to just catch the girl's leg, loosing grip when she makes a swipe with needle... And connecting.
She rolls out of the way and watches warily as she backs up from the fleeing Wren. The mongoose runs over to Zahara and back up onto her shoulder still being QUITE vocal in it's displeasure. After all... It was just a love bite!
Gabriella stares at the mongoose as it chitters its way through every pitch known to man and a few previously undiscovered, blinking rapidly, one hand raising to rub at her eyes as if to ensure she /was/ actually seeing the furry creature and wasn't... on some kind of weird acid trip. Or something.
Nope. That's still a mongoose. "What... where...." A pause, as Zee dive tackles the screeching flapping Wren, a brow sliding upwards as Wren twists free. "She’s... fast." Gabriella says, sounding mildly surprised, then finally glancing down to where her hands are again pressed against her bandage, tentatively pulling one palm away to check beneath. Nope. No red... that was good.
The needle slips beneath Wren's skin, even as she manages to twist away from the doctor's grasp, and she gives a scream of rage mixed with despair. One hand claps to the site of the injection as she continues her litany of invective, stumbling for the corridor with a will. "Ta ma de! Cao ni zu zong shi ba dai! (fuck the 18 generations of your ancestors) Chi shi! (eat shit)" she spits at Zahara, words starting to slow as she makes it as far as the corridor before stumbling. "Wo cao ni... ye ye de sao... pi yan (Fuck your grandfather's piss stinking arsehole)," she adds, the words slower and softer as the sedative finally really takes hold. She slides down the wall of the ship to the deck.
Gabriella's brow arches upwards as she hears the long strings of vehement words tumble out of Wren's mouth, a small shake of the head, as she very carefully brings both hands free from her leg. She seemed more than a little surprised that it was there at all, much less, mostly intact. Unable to see the events in the hallway, and not certain she wanted to, she did brave a half glance around the corner of the couch to try and find where the bear like creature had retreated to.
"Fuggin' hell." She mutters, heels of her hands rubbing against her eyes, as she stares at the scattered ashes, cigarette buts and fragments of glass strewn across the floor. "Bloody hell." She says as if that will someone fix the problem. Finally, she pulls herself up onto the edge of the couch, rescuing her crutches from where they had clattered down, and leans on them to pull herself upright.
Zahara just continues to back up a little bit until Wren seems more or less... Drugged, and then she sits down across the hall from her, keeping a respectful distance.
"Wren?" she says softly. "Wren... It's alright. No more drugs... Just a small dose to keep you from attacking yourself again... I promise."
The mongoose comes skittering down into the woman's lap, where idle hands begin to pet at it. "What happened?" she asks coaxingly, her face obviously concerned. "Why did you scream?"
Even after her legs give way, Wren doesn't give up on the idea of Geting Away, half dragging herself a few more feet toward her door. But chemistry trumps willpower, and eventually she simply stops, one hand still outstretched toward the door in vain. Hazy hazel green eyes wobble on Zahara's face as she sits across from her. "Not one one nine. No more pricking an' stickin..." she mumbles, voice trailing off as she slides into a drugged sleep. The mongoose barely even registers on her consciousness.
Take me back to Wren's RP Logs
