the falcon cannot hear the falconer; [OPEN]

[ensorceler]

who; anne & you!
what; escape from the clinic
where; clinic & castle gardens
when; today
rating; pg-13 (mention of hell and torture and skirts stuck in wheelchairs)

Anne had been to Hell and back, and what did she have to show for it? Broken pride, perhaps? Even that could not be entirely stifled, but she has made a remarkable show of it since her awakening in the clinic. It helped that she had her clinic room's door shut whenever she could, not wishing for anyone to see her in such gruesome shape. She certainly had injuries to show for it, but so did everybody. Even a week later, Anne is unable to walk on her own more than a step or two. Though her gown, dark for mourning, shields the worst of it from prying eyes, it's impossible to hide that her left arm is in a sling (or at least it should be), the right side of her face is bandaged, and she is most certainly in a wheelchair! But that doesn't stop her from trying to look her best with accessories, simply using a long silk scarf to wrap up her skirt so that it doesn't get tangled in the wheels. She may have already had to learn that lesson the hard way.

Adjusting to these chairs on wheels took some adjustment, especially considering the upper arm strength they required. This, of course, meant that Anne had to pull her arm from her sling whenever she wanted to go anywhere. And you know what, that's exactly what she does, because fuq the popo she's Queen and she does what she wants. The painkillers help, for sure, although she still requires many breaks and pauses in her venture.

Anyone might spot her on her way out of the clinic, as she is not the most subtle scene to bear witness to, but eventually Anne will try to find her way to the castle's gardens, wanting to see the roses, and perhaps find shade in the maze. Wherever she may rest, Anne will end up seated in the grass with the flowers, weaving them along the armrests of the wheelchair. Though her mind still feels numb at times, unable to cope with even thinking of what she should do now, the sun always helps, and menial tasks like these help occupy her scattered mind.

Comments

CLINIC;

[ensorceler]

[whichwayyoulean]

The Once-ler is still in his bed, the same place he's been for over a week now. It's starting to get grating. But the sight of Anne wheeling along is enough to attract attention. After all, it's SOMETHING that's happening.

He's been trying to avoid her, since the whole...imaginary crazy family thing. But he'll clear his throat as she wheels past.

"They'll catch you, you know."

[ensorceler]

Her shoulders visibly hunch at the voice, the now tainted voice, and Anne must consciously suppress a shudder as she looks over to the source. The Once-ler, the strange man who indeed lives by his not-name, taller than any she knows, even her own dear husband.

Swallowing dryly, Anne forces a small smile. It isn't too difficult, because despite it all, she is glad to see he is well with her own eyes. Ted had already told her, as he often tells her so many interesting things, but it is always different to know for oneself.

Eye contact. Because she's a professional.

"And what will they do? Drag me back like a sack of flour, as they did from that ship? I think not."

[whichwayyoulean]

He notices the shoulder hunch, but skilfully tries to avoid talking about THAT. No awkward conversations for him, thanks. He offers her the smallest of smile.

"Maybe. House is back, so it could go anyway, really."

[ensorceler]

"The doctor?"

Since she's been caught, and has had enough time that she isn't like to just dismiss anyone for looking at her now. Not unless they contributed to these injuries, anyway... But he certainly didn't. Her tolerated her crazy a disturbing amount, the poor fool. Her throat just about closes up over remembering the things she said.

Still smiling, though, carefully wheeling closer to his bed, then slipping her arm back into it's sling. "And what would he care if I were to leave?"

[whichwayyoulean]

"That's him."

The Once-ler gives a soft shrug to her question, there's still a smile on his lips, though. House means an awful lot to him, and knowing he's back has done him a lot of good. He's doing his best not to bring up the crazy, he's decided this is something they're going to pretend never happened, and he's utterly okay with that.

"He wouldn't care," he says. "He'd probably stop you out of spite."

[ensorceler]

Anne's nose scrunches a bit in irritation at the mere suggestion, but again always reminding herself that nobody here cared if she was queen, visiting or not. She had moments where she had trouble caring these days, too. With a little sigh, she stops beside his bed and pushes on an exaggerated smirk.

"Then I would merely beguile him into letting me pass."

[whichwayyoulean]

Such was he way of Paradisa. You could be anyone, but when you got down to it, you were dragged to the same level as everyone else. The Once-ler chuckles softly.

"I don't think he's easily beguiled."

[ensorceler]

Anne lightly rolls her eyes. "Everybody has a price. But it is of no matter, I see no doctors lurking in the shadows, ready to lunge upon us as if we were nothing but helpless deer."

With her free hand, she reaches out to him, stopping just short. She doesn't want to hurt the Once-ler more! Was he just a deer in his confrontation, or was there a beast hidden in there somewhere? She hoped so, for it would be a shame not to give as good as you got.

"Who hurt you?"

[whichwayyoulean]

"Oh it's ok, he's not a lurker. He'll just straight up walk over. So I think we're okay for now."

He frowns a little as she balks. Sadly, he wishes he could have put up a better fight, but he's still learning that sort of stuff, so pathetic deer he was.

"A kid, she was affected by that...whatever it was on the ship that did those things."

WOW I THOUGHT I HIT ENTER ON THIS LIKE A MILLION HOURS AGO OMFG

[ensorceler]

Anne's eyebrows raise, and she stares at him with an odd look. Even knowing things went berserk, it's hard to look at a man and accept that a little girl banged him up so badly. Again, Anne would be the first to say never to underestimate a woman.

But still... Really, it's more saddening to be reminded there were children on the ship. That one died.

She purses her lips in thought, plucking absently at his blanket. "Not the one that passed?"

ffg IT'S OK

[whichwayyoulean]

His frown deepens at her question.

"She did pass, yeah. I know one of her friends. She hasn't come back yet, either."

And that was worrying him. What if the kid NEVER came back? Maybe whatever tore at her mind on the Event Horizon destroyed her for good. She didn't deserve that, troll or not, she was still just a kid.

[ensorceler]

Anne's brow furrows, her hand dropping back to her lap. It is difficult to be reminded of the tragedy around her, but necessary occasionally. Focusing on the pain of others is more preferable to drowning in her own dark thoughts in her lone room.

"...Were you the one to...?"

[whichwayyoulean]

He looks up, surprised before shaking his head. He was a lot of bad things, he'd done a lot of bad things, but he wasn't a killer. He just didn't have it in him to cross that one, vital line.

"No, I'm not sure how she-" he drops his head. "She left me after she attacked, talking about trying to save others."

[ensorceler]

Perhaps he is a better person than Anne, then, since though she did not kill anyone, it was not for lack of trying. Her hand lifts to dig against the belly of her bodice, then the breast, broken nails dragging against the fine fabric in mimicry of her behavior on the ship. Absently, while staring up at the ceiling.

"Her name was Ib?" Anne had collected as many names as she could through her sources, unable to visit the graveyard herself just yet. "I will pray for her swift return. Though perhaps we can hope she has been returned home instead."

[whichwayyoulean]

He frowns softly, watching the action.

"No, her name was Vriska, she was a troll from the-", no, wait. He pauses. "Ib?"

Where did he know that name from? He stares at the bedsheets for a moment, searching his memory for that name. And then it hits him.

"...She's from my friend's world. Ib. I haven't met her yet, but I know Garry thinks a great deal of her."

[bronwe]

He has brought her what she asked for, though incomplete. Perhaps the progress might comfort her. It's only a roll of paper with the names of the dead written there, as much as he can gather from the announcements on the journal. He doesn't dare ask for people to report in the rest when he has little authority.

And a basket of teacakes.

He stops just by the door when he notices her meaning to leave. "Good morning."

[ensorceler]

Damn, so close to making a getaway undetected. Anne almost has the grace to look sheepish at being caught trying to edge her way into the wheelchair all by herself, and not at all gracefully given her state, either. She nearly falls right on the floor in her quick attempt to lean back in the direction of the bed.

"Mister Frodo... What brings you?"

[bronwe]

Frodo notices that too, hurrying as best as he can to steady the wheelchair for her to move into, before remembering that she probably needs more help getting out of the bed and offers his arm to serve whatever support. He has nothing against her running away from the clinic when he certainly would given her place.

"Names, Your Majesty. As you requested of me."

[ensorceler]

Oh, his assistance is somewhat unexpected, which really shows how accustomed she has grown to Paradisa, even though no others seem to realize. She no longer expects help from anybody. Maybe she was a fool to have expected it in England. But as it's being offered now, at least in shallow means, she accepts it readily, gripping his arm tightly as she tries to slink into the wheelchair with as much dignity as she can muster.

"The names of the dead? Hmph, well, some of them are already returning. Sooner than I was told of. But I would still like to hear."

[bronwe]

The errand helped keep him busy, keep his mind off of things. His only regret is that visiting the clinic and going through the journal to find the names took so little time, which did make him wonder if he should start asking too, like she did. But who would answer such a grave question when asked by a silly old hobbit?

Frodo holds her arm as firmly as he can, in case she slips and injure herself some more. It certainly is nice to see her all cleaned up and bandaged but he still remembers how terrible the wound on her leg seemed. He fetches that roll of paper only once Anne is securely in her wheelchair, unrolling it to start reading them out, even if he remembers the few names anyway.

"These are the people who were dead, or missing. Kara Zor-el. Zelos Wilder. Gregory House. Ib. South Dakota. Clow Reed," he hesitates before offering her the list to see for herself. "There was also a fair-haired man there that I don't know, and a woman with red hair."

[ensorceler]

It's some trouble to sit in such a cramped chair in all of her skirts, although a doctor would tell her not to dress like this. She just cannot stand what has been dubbed a 'hospital gown' when it's no gown at all but a sack.

She listens while occasionally fussing with her skirts to rearrange them. She already knew of House, Zelos, and South Dakota. Unfortunate. It all is, really, and she prays they did not go to the Hell she did.

"The fair haired man would be James Bond, I believe. Could you not have asked after the red-haired woman? Do you at least know anything about any of the others?" Accepting the list, she glances it over to memorize the spelling of the strange names. "Ib, the strangest name on here. Who is that?"

[bronwe]

A sack with a hole at the back that is, which Frodo has been doing his best to avert his eyes from. It is a relief to see her in a proper dress.

His writing is neat and curled, with too many dots above certain vowels, for style mostly but a writer should be granted his few vanities, even when it comes to noting down a victim list. He fiddles with his vest as she looks through his work, feeling as if his hands are extraneous without the paper in his grip.

"A little girl," he frowns as he recalls. She seemed so small. "I could find no mark on her, from the little I could see, so perhaps it was a quick one. No pain, one hopes. "

[ensorceler]

Anne has to appreciate beautiful penmanship, really, but now is not exactly the time. After perusing the names once more, she rolls the paper up to hand back to him, making a remarkable show of hiding her wince at the news of a little girl. Her throat feels dry, though.

"Yes, one hopes. ...Do you have a god where you come from, Mister Frodo?"

[bronwe]

Frodo takes the list back hesitantly, unsure if it is the work that is to her displeasure or the subject matter. He rolls it up tighter and holds on to it while stepping aside so she can move forward should she wish. One wouldn't move into a wheelchair without intending to go elsewhere.

"I heard of another place with seven and more," which doesn't answer the question, but not because he doesn't want to. "The elves tell of the fourteen Valar who helped created the world, Arda. I suppose that makes them gods."