poly_chromatic | 二十七

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legend of korra: korra

二十七

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[Korra is done with the hospital. So very, very, VERY done.

Unfortunately, neither her body nor the hospital staff agree. Just a few more days, they promise her. You sustained major trauma from those bullet wounds. Personally, she finds the pain less traumatic than the terrible smell and the snoring of her roommates. (She's able to think this only because of really excellent pain medication.)

The biggest problem with being stuck in the hospital, though, is that it gives her too much time to think. About the injuries she sustained. About how she's going to need physical therapy. About the fact that no matter how hard she tries, she might never be able to move the way she used to again. The doctor warned her that her shoulder will be prone to popping out of its socket, and that her muscles may be stiff and harder to move than before. She's very lucky that none of the bullets shattered bone or nicked any organs. She could have died or been paralyzed. She tries to remember that and feel grateful, but mostly she feels like, bit by bit, everything that makes her her is being chipped away.

She hates hospitals.]

[ooc: open to any and all visitors or hospital staff!]

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[Charlie's visit is probably unexpected but Charlie wants to know that Korra is recovering. Her injuries had been horrific and Charlie wanted to try to distract her in some way.

So, she's bringing food from her shop. It's all made fresh and on the house because Korra is something of a friend, even if they don't talk often. Charlie likes her because she's from Toph's universe and Charlie adored Toph.

Bag of food in hand, Charlie knocks on Korra's door before pushing it open slowly.]

You're probably not up for visitors but I brought food.

[She steps in and puts the bag on the bedside table, offering Korra a half-smile.] Tell me to leave if you want. I won't be mad.

[Hey, who's this kid? Yeah, this one, the one sneaking around the hospital hallways.

It's not real clear, but from the bruises on her face and the bandages on her hands, there's a chance she's another patient. Either that, or a visitor who's been in a few scrapes herself. No telling.

She's a little shifty, a little nervous, a little shy--looks like it, at least. One never knows. They say the ones with the sweetest faces mix up the foulest poisons.

She's glancing in the rooms as she walks slowly down the hallway, limping a little ('Ware the man who fakes a limp, some would say). She glances, likewise, into Korra's room and...yeah, offers a small smile.]

[ooc: Icons chosen somewhat ironically.]

[ If it's any consolation -- (It rarely is) -- Hei hates hospitals too. He hates the antiseptic smells, hates the weakness and fear burgeoning in the atmosphere, hates the hypocrisy of the doctors and nurses. The place doesn't represent convalescence to him. It's the embodiment of inertia, helplessness, lost time. There's no room for that in Hei's profession. He'd been admitted to a hospital only once, as a child-soldier, and he'd left with the cold resolution never to go into one again. It's not like him to make exceptions -- but he supposes, at this point, Korra qualifies as one. ]

[ In the expanse of the room, white walls, white sheets, white floors, Hei remembers what it's like to be that child again. It's not a pleasant feeling. ]

[ He sits by Korra's bedside, quietly reading the patient chart. Intrusive, yes, but he can't say he gives a fuck. It's disquieting, seeing her like this. There's no room in his imagination for Korra on a sickbed. He can only see her as her usual brash, bright-eyed self, all sound and fury signifying teenaged rebellion -- or dead. It's an effort to fight the slow burn of anger, like someone's run over his cat or broken his favorite toy. ]

[ He breathes easier only when he sees that she is too. ]

[Korra's heart jumps into her throat and gets stuck there -- even after she realizes it was just a knock on the door. She gives Charlie a weak smile.]

No, that's fine. [How can she turn away the woman who saved her life?] That smells great.

[Korra's about ready to explode from boredom. When the girl pokes her head into the room, it provides a welcome distraction.]

Hey there.

[A small and flickering smile.

(If there's nothing else to say about him, the creature called Randall Flagg, Rory Fletcher, and now...whatever his traveling name was while hiding behind this face, he was a passable thespian.)]

Hey.

Sorry, I was just--yeah, don't let me disturb you or anything.

[Another one of those nervous, flickery smiles.]

[Korra drifts in and out of a restless sleep -- too shallow to be restorative, but fortunately not deep enough for dreams. Nothing pleasant waits for her in the dark of her subconscious.

She's not sure when she becomes aware of Hei's presence. It kind of creeps up on her, like twilight or a heavy fog. Her eyes flicker, not opening, and she turns her body towards him. Unconscious affection or wariness? She wouldn't know, even if she was fully present.]

No, it's fine. [Please don't go! She's bored enough to die!] What's your name?

[She(? "he" to himself, "she" to the rest of the world, mayhap--wouldn't be the first time) takes a couple of steps into the room, acting like maybe even doing that is an intrusion.]

Rowena. [A pause.] Faulkenrath.

[Yeah, that last name was probably a bit too much. But too late now. Whatchagonnado? Hell, in a place like this, maybe nobody would even notice.]

What about you?

[ Hei catches it in the line of Korra's body, when she floats to the bleary surface of consciousness. He's not sure what to make of it when she stirs toward him. In his place, that gesture runs parallel with instinctive training -- to gauge the threats in the room, to silently map out exits before you're even cognizant of your surroundings. His gaze slips sideways, studying her, waiting it out, before he turns another page on the chart. (Her flickering eyelids make him think of Pai, after her Remuneration, bubbling up into wakefulness from a pool of dreamless sleep.) ]

[ Eventually, he sets the chart aside. Turns to regard Korra with a complete and pensive attention, like a dull painting. He's no sniper; sitting still without reason isn't for him. But if there's one thing his profession has taught him, its a superhuman degree of patience. He's prepared to sit here for as long as it takes for her to come to. ]

[Don't worry, most people's names sound weird to her.]

Korra. [She gestures for Rowena to take a seat.] You can sit down if you want. Promise.

[Slowly her eyes blink open, and she stares at him dully, uncomprehending. It takes another few moments for her brain to catch up with her eyes.]

What are you doing here?

[It's neither accusatory nor resentful, but genuinely confused. Somehow, him sitting in a chair by her bed makes absolutely no sense to her.]

Good to meet you.

[Lookin' really uncertain now!]

Thanks, but...I don't think I should. You look like you've got enough trouble. Trouble...kind of follows me.

[ It makes no sense to Hei either. (Except it does. Just in a way he'd prefer not to examine too closely.) She sounds drugged and muzzy, but that's never meant an impediment where a Syndicate agent is concerned, not when tasked with completing an objective. Except she's no Syndicate agent. It's this moment, in fact, where she reminds him of nothing more and nothing less than a hopeless 18-year-old girl. Hei's never had the luxury of being able to act his age. Even that confusion in her tone ... In his place it would've been firmly repressed, its energy transduced into determination. ]

[ She's not you. And she's not Pai. ]

[ When he speaks, his tone isn't unkind. But it also refuses to give away whatever concern he's capable of feeling, ] I'm here to feed you something other than hospital food. [ With a peripheral gesture to the tupperware box on the table. ]

[Korra frowns.]

What do you mean?

You really wanna know?

[Holding up those bandaged hands now (white bandages wrapped all around both palms and wrists, up to the fingers), with kind of a tight-lipped grimace.]

I've got somebody after me.

It's his fault that I'm even in here in the first place.

[She tries to sit up and immediately regrets it. OW OW OW OW OW!]

Thanks. [There's a thick wad of cotton where her brain should be. There's a dim panic -- why is her brain not a brain? what did they replace it with? -- but the cotton keeps her from feeling too deeply.] What is it?

[WIDE EYES]

Who?

Stay still. [ It's an order, but almost parental, like he's a little annoyed with her, but underneath it, indulgent and concerned. The overhead fluorescents seem to buzz everywhere that they touch him -- even the his eyes -- like he's sitting inside a bug-zapper. He's been here an hour, and he hates this place. Of course people would go crazy here. How can you stand it in a realm of inhuman scents and sterile walls, where the patients seem to lie in beds like slabs of meat in a freezer, where it never seems warm or dim or comfortable. This is a hopeless place. A Contractor must have designed it. ]

[ Turning, he extends the box at her. ] Just light snacks. Mushroom and spinach rolls. Tea cakes. Oranges. Dry fruit. [ He's smart enough to avoid any food that'd encourage the growth of pathogenic bacteria -- fish, poultry, pizzas. ]

[A siiiiiiiiiiiiigh.]

It's kind of a long story. You sure you want to hear it?

Do I look like someone with anything better to do?

Not...really.

[A nicely-acted look around, just to make sure.]

Okay. Here's what you've got to know first. I'm...a witch. I mean, I guess that's the best word for it.

Magic's been in my family for as long as anybody can remember, probably even back for thousands of years. It's not, like, common where I come from, but... [A small breath, a few small nods] It's definitely real.

And there's people who use it for good, like in my family. And there's people who use it...for themselves, for evil. I mean, maybe we're a little lazy and selfish with it sometimes. But, like, it's kind of fun to wash the dishes without touching them, right?

[Withdrawing a little now, head down a little, looking at those bandaged hands.]

But that's not like what other people use magic for. The ones that go bad, the ones that go to the Shadows.

[The brazen cozener is looking Korra in the eye now.]

My father is...a great wizard. I don't there's been anyone like him. Not since Merlin, anyway. [Another one of those faint smiles.] He's done...so much good magic in his life. But, you know, even the best wizards sometimes look into the Shadows sometimes. And...one time when he did, he ended up making this...knife, this dagger. It can cut the Shadows themselves, but it can also summon them. Like, he could call things out of the Shadows and make them do what he wanted. And...I don't know why, but he gave the dagger to me. Maybe because I'm not strong enough to use it. I don't know. But he told me to keep it secret and keep it safe.

[Whoops, quoting things. Well, whatever.]

And it was right after that that I ended up...here. In the City.

Okay, I thought. No big deal. I can take care of myself.

But there's another wizard in the City. He's strong. Maybe as strong as Dad, but...I don't know. He's stronger than me, I know that. He's definitely from my world. I can tell that. His magic smells like Mom and Dad's. Nobody else's magic around here smells quite like that. And I think I know him, too.

His name is Rabmag. He knows fire magic and he can call the Shadows too.

He's been after me since he got here. I did all right at first. I know a lot of shielding spells and ways to keep someone from finding me--even with magic. But... I got careless and...

[Definitely a pained expression here.]

...he got me a couple of days ago. He just...jumped me. He did [again, raising those bandaged hands] All this. And he got my dad's dagger too.

You'd think he'd be gloating right now, right? He got what he wanted from the stupid little witch.

But...I don't think he'll stop until I'm dead.

[Normally the parental tone would get under her skin, but she's too disconnected to notice it. One thing at a time is about all her not-brain can handle.

She holds a hand out.]

Orange?

[Her jaws hurts -- why does her jaw hurt?!??!?!?!? -- and dry fruit sounds like too much work.]

Sorry. It looks like you're going to live.

[House keeping out of other people's business? Never. He pulls the lollipop out of his mouth to flip through her chart.]

[.......uh, wow, okay, Korra got....maybe half of that. There's too much terminology that's alien to her, concepts that are completely unfamiliar.]

So......this guy attacked you and stole your knife?

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二十七

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