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Summary: Fiona and Sophie chat for a while, until Donna shows up (and the hard questions get asked).
Log Title: She's not dead Jim
Rating: PG
Xavier Mansion - Medical Bay
The Medical Bay contains the latest medical equipment to patch up students and X-Men with the smallest and worst injuries. Six beds line the walls for injured patients. Equipment lines the walls, medicine in the cabinets, and more serious medical supplies locked in cabinets. One this about this room it screams sterilization.
Fiona is looking more herself today; the alien technology seems to be doing a pretty good job of patching her back together; right now, she's standing near the mirror, poking and prodding at her face. Which she's pretty sure she got shot in, but there's very little sign on it. That's crazy! Crazy, she says. Of course, she doesn't know it's alien tech, so… she's fairly mystified as to how they did it. Mutant powers? Hmm…
The doors open to admit on Sophie DeCosta. The blind mutant guides herself inside with her cane, still cradling her left hand against her stomach as she goes, favoring it for the deep cut stitched shut across her palm. She has her backpack slung across her shoulders, compelte with a hole in it from where a dart lodged in it two days previous. "Fiona?" she murmurs as she comes to a halt. "You are still here, si?"
Fiona turns; she's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt that someone provided for her, "Er, Sophie! Hi!" The girl smiles. "Yeah, I'm in here… I'm… startin to go a little crazy… my teacher is probably wondering where I am right about now…"
Sophie smiles softly as she turns to face Fiona, locating the other girl once she speaks. "Si, I would imagine," she replies. She guides herself across the intervening space, coming to a halt once more a couple of feet away, where she unslings her backpack. "I brought some books for you," she offers, as she plops the pack on the floor and crouches beside it to remove the contents. "I… actually just asked someone else to help me get some from the library. I have no idea what they are." And then, from her bag, she does indeed withdraw three books. There's 'Dune' by Frank Herbert, 'Moby Dick' by Herman Melville, and… yes, that is a Math textbook.
Well, some books are better than no books! Though, Fiona carries all sorts of things with her. In her handy dandy portals. She just sort of laughs at the books a little, "Well, I suppose I haven't had a math class in over a year…" she holds it up, rapping on it with her knuckles.
Sophie's cheeks flush with color, as she stands up and straightens her skirt. "…Math?" She coughs softly. "Well, I like math, but… it is not exactly reading merely to pass the time. My classmate has played a prank on us, si?" She holds her left wrist with her right hand in front of herself, letting her cane dangle by its loop. "I hope the other two are better?"
"Yeah, Dune's not a bad book," Fiona nods, turning away from the mirror for a moment and stretching. "Aaaaanyway. How about you? It's been a while since I've seen you, I think, yeh?" she flops back down on the medbay bed.
Sophie tracks the sound of Fiona's voice, turning her head to follow; and then she moves to sit on the bed beside the other girl. "I have been well," she murmurs, as she collapses her cane into itself and taps it against her leg. "Last semester I was… well, kidnapped, with a few other girls. And now on the television they are calling me a dangerous mutant terrorist, just for being there at the attack in Salem Center." She shakes her head, and sighs heavily as she faces down towards her knees. "So I suppose I am stressed out. But I will be alright… and I am glad to hear that you are healing well. Will you scar, Fiona? I may be able to help with that."
"I… don't think so… maybe…" Fiona murmurs, feeling around her face and midsection, "I can't really tell yet. I don't even know what they did to heal it. I mean before I came here, last time I saw my stomach it was kind of hanging all over the ground…" she grimaces, poking at it a little and wincing.
Sophie's eyebrows rise, and she turns a rather noticeable shade of green. For a moment it looks like she's about to be sick, but she holds it in somehow, and reaches up to brush her fingertips through her hair, perhaps to conceal the motion of wiping her firehead with the back of her hand. "I am sorry to hear this happened to you," she murmurs. "Here." She holds her good hand outstretched. "Put my hand over your stomach. I will do what I can, si?"
"It's okay, really! I was just… being stupid…" Fiona rubs the back of her neck momentarily with one hand, and then guides Sophie's hand to her midsection with another. "Like this?" she asks; it's not bleeding or even bandaged still persay but it's very tender; it doesn't QUITE feel right…
"Stupid?" Sophie arches an eyebrow. "How were you being stupid, Fiona?" The blind girl allows her hand to be positioned, and bobs her head. "And, si, that is perfect." Her hand takes on a soothing white glow, that radiates from her palm and into the nearby Fiona; the sorceress might feel a bit of a tingle, which lingers for as long as Sophie keeps her hand in position, which is to say only for two or three minutes, before the glow dissipates, and Sophie returns her hand to her lap.
"Mm, that feels… pretty good…" Fiona blinks, poking at her stomach a little, which now doesn't hurt (or at least not anywhere near as much as it did.) "Is that your thing? That's amazing. Is that how this whole place works?" she blinks a little. "Anyway. I was trying to hijack their truck but… I got shot in the process… Donna will probably yell at me when she finds out about it…"
"Si, that my… 'thing'," Sophei replies bemusedly. "I have a few gifts, but to heal is the ability I am most proud of." As she speaks, she pokes at the stitches on her left hand, and gazes up sightlessly at the room around her. "I do not know how the technology in this room works. But as you can attest, it works well, also." She smiles softly, and goes back to clasping her hand around her wrist. "You mean the Church of Humanity's truck, si? Why were you trying to hijack it?"
"Well, because they're kind of dicks, and they were shooting everyone. I figured I would use it to run them over… I get kinda… crazy sometimes… it was a stupid idea…" Fiona trails off, shaking her head. "Or at least, you know, push them out of the way… I guess, since I am here, I should tell you what my 'thing' is…" she muses thoughtfully, "I'm a sorceress. I weave magic. And I have an honest to god demon stuck inside my head. I don't always… think… the straightest way."
"…Fiona!" Sophie sounds positively shocked. "Such language is unbecoming of a young lady." She tsks softly, and shakes her head. "America is great in so many ways, yet nobody seems to teach their children the proper way to speak." The bling girl sighs softly, and lets silence hang in the air for a moment. "You mentioned magic before, si? When we met at the train station. The Bible sais, 'Thou shalt not judge', and this I take seriously. But… if ever you need help with your demon… I shall pray for you, if you ask it." She reaches to her side, and pats the air until she finds Fiona's shoulder, upon which she rests her hand and squeezes lightly. "I do not think you were stupid," she adds, very softly. "I think you were brave."
"Okay, well, they were being jerks!" Fiona grins a little, though Sophie can't see it… "Well, there's a time and a place for bravery I suppose. I don't think my caretaker would be exactly happy with it… It's not that she doesn't want to help people, it's just that, as… what we are, we have to stay somewhat removed from things… at least, that is sort of what she teaches. But, I can't help it, I mean… my boyfriend is a mutant, even, so…"
Sophie arches an eyebrow above her blindfold at Fiona's words, and remains pensive for a long moment afterwards. "And what are you, Fiona?" She tilts her head to one side, canting one ear towards the sorceress. "Please, I would… hear your self-definition, if I may?"
"Well, magically… or, spiritually attuned… it's kind of a genetic, or hereditary thing… I mean, nobody knows exactly what makes magic work but…" Fiona trails off, "I don't know. What am I? I mean, I'm just human I guess. With some special talents. Like, you know, that kid who's really good at baseball or something. Everyone has a little bit of it in them, just, some more than others. Though I don't know that… you couldn't say the same thing about mutants? I just, perhaps don't feel like I can really understand what some people go through…" she shrugs a little.
Sophie clucks her tongue, and shakes her head slowly. "That's what you can do," she replies. "It's what you're good at, and that matters, Fiona. But it is not what you are, si? Do you think I solely define myself as a blind girl, or a mutant?" She smiles softly, and shifts her right hand to give the other girl a playful swat aimed for the shoulder. "I admit it was a trick question. I do not think anyone can so easily define themselves… But truely, I think that what you are, is what you choose to be, si? Not merely what bare definition your skills or talents can provide." She taps her collapsed cane against her knuckles as she speaks, and bobs her head for emphasis. "Your teacher can help, but not wholly define you. That is only for you to do."
"Well, that's true! I just worry about what she says, because she's been down my path before… we're… similar…" Fiona murmurs, "Magic is dangerous if you just let it do what it wants and in the hands of someone undisciplined it can be… disastrous. You have to choose to help where it matters the most, rather than recklessly charging in. That's what she teaches. On the other hand, I guess that's never really been my style persay…"
"Only you can define yourself," Sophie reiterates. She shrugs her shoulders lightly. "When the Church of Humanity made their attack, I… I was terrified. I cannot see; they had something making a lot of noise so I could not hear either, and it was so powerfu ltaht the ground seemed to shake. I could not find my footing or orient myself, and I knew we were being shot at. I was terrified." She swallows audibly, and shifts her arms to hug herself about her middle. "I am… grateful that you chose to step in, Fiona. Even if it did not work out so much in your favor. Thank you."
Fiona puts a hand on Sophie's shoulder for a moment, "It's no problem, really. I would do it again… I just think… I wouldn't get shot again… I'd think things through better. Probably," she ponders that for a moment, and then shrugs, because there's no way for sure to know…
Sophie reaches up to her shoulder, to rest her good hand overtop of Fiona's. She lets a deep breath out slowly, and quirks her lips upwards once more. "There is no way to know until the moment hits," she agrees. "I thought myself prepared, but when the moment came, I fell to pieces. You at least found the courage to act… and I admire that, Fiona." The blind girl gives Fiona's hand a squeeze, before dropping her arm back to her lap. "And… if your teacher shouts at you, I am sure it is only because she cares about you," she adds.
Sophie reaches up to her shoulder, to rest her good hand overtop of Fiona's. She lets a deep breath out slowly, and quirks her lips upwards once more. "There is no way to know until the moment hits," she agrees. "I thought myself prepared, but when the moment came, I fell to pieces. You at least found the courage to act… and I admire that, Fiona." The blind girl gives Fiona's hand a squeeze, before dropping her arm back to her lap. "And… if your teacher shouts at you, I am sure it is only because she cares about you," she adds. (repose)
"Yeah, well, that's certainly true," Fiona murmurs, "I dunno. You kind of get used to that kinda pressure after you're involved in it a few times, I mean, it's not the first time I've been in a furball like that… probably won't be the last… just the first time I've gotten hurt," she says, bemused.
Sophie mms softly, and bobs her head in agreement. "Si," she replies. "But, I hope you do not make a habit of it… the getting hurt part, at least." She perks an eyebrow upwards, and tilts her head sideways to face Fiona. "Someone wise, who I always listen to, told me a mutant's life is never boring. Sounds like it's the same for you, hmm?"
"Hrm… well, perhaps," Fiona murmurs, laying on the bed in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. She looks… well, despite having been just about shot to pieces, not TOO much worse for wear. Probably the luckiest dumb teenager in the world! She and Sophie appear to be having a conversation. Of sorts. "I would say it's more like being in the army or something… periods of extreme boredom followed by extreme terror," she laughs.
The door to the medical bay slides open, and what follows is the tap-tap-tap of small leather boots on the brushed-metal floor, the soft jingle and grind of chains, and the clatter of miscellaneous gear rattling about in a sack. Her visible eye flicking from empty bed to empty bed, she makes her slow, unhurried way down the bay. At the sound of conversation, she alters direction somewhat, coming to a halt at the foot of Fiona's bed. Eyebrow raised, bulging military-surplus bag slung over one shoulder, she clears her throat. "….You don't *look* like you've swallowed buckshot, lass." The words would be accusing, if her voice were not completely devoid of inflection.
"Well, we would not wish for things to become boring, would we?" Sophie smiles thinly. "Though I do hope that next time…" She trails off as she hears the unfamiliar footsteps approaching across the medbay floor, practically shouting out the presence of another person to her well attuned ears. She cants her head to one side, listening to the approach, and gripping her collapsed cane a touch more tightly, at least until Donna speaks. She sighs softly, letting out her held breath. "You must be Fiona's teacher?" she murmurs, running with an assumption.
Fiona lets out a startled squeak, "I, uh, ah," she stammers, rubbing the back of her neck, "Well, Sophie's a pretty good doctor! In a manner of speaking… and… they have some kinda crazy… I dunno… what it even is…" she explains, doing a pretty horrible job at that. "How did you know I where I was, anyway? /I/ don't even really know where I am…"
Donna slings the bag off her shoulder, setting it on the floor with some care for all the loose objects rattling about. "Fiona," she says, in the patient voice of a schoolteacher covering a subject for the umpty-billionth time. "By now? You should be *well* aware. There is no place you can go, that I can't find you." Her eyes flick toward Sophie, eyebrow raising a bit further. "….Yes, child, I suppose that I must be. And you are Sophie."
Sophie's eyebrows perk upwards, and she tilts her head in Donna's direction. "Si, I am," she replies. She faces in Donna's general direction, before resting her right hand over her wounded left and composing herself. "Were you told of me, on the way in? …Or did you see me in the news?" she asks, with a touch of bitterness creeping into her voice at the end. "I pray it was the former."
"Well, yeah, but that doesn't cover the /how…/" Fiona eyes the bag for a moment on the floor, wondering a little. Oddly, you would think with pretty much unlimited carrying space, that Fiona would have the foresight to carry a change of clothes or two. Not so, perhaps. Or perhaps she didn't want to make an obvious display of her portals? Who knows. "Or it could be that I mentioned you," she smirks a little, "Just now… but anyway. Actually, come to think of it, I think I told her about you when you were kidnapped…" she ponders, shrugging. "Anyway."
"My student has a sense of humor," Donna says mildly. "And you're far too young yet to be a proper doctor. Therefore, I must assume that in order to cover up for her sudden attack of nerves, she's simply attempting to entertain me enough that I forget quite how irritated I am by naming a young, blind little poppet like yourself, Sophie, a doctor. Yes, Fiona, there's a change of clothes in the bag, and I'll get them in a moment. First, however. I believe you have a story to tell me, lass. A personally embarrassing, possibly traumatizing, *very* detailed story. In your own time."
Sophie coughs softly. The blind girl pushes off from where she is sitting on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, snaps her cane out to full length. "I am not a doctor," she murmurs. "Nor have I ever claimed to be." She sweeps the cane around her feet, before starting on her way towards the spot on the floor where her bag is sitting. "Still, I suppose I will take being referred to as a doctor or as a 'poppet' over being labelled a terrorist." She plucks her bag up off the floor, and slings it over her shoulders, slowly and carefully owing to her wounded hand. "Just remember what I have told you, Fiona. …And if you don't mind, the books will need to be returned in two weeks, if you wish to take them. They are signed under on my name."
Fiona coughs, sitting up on the bed and swinging her bare feet over the edge, "I was… trying to erm… steal a truck… 'cause I was gonna, I dunno. Run over some crazy religious fanatics and such," she rubs the back of her neck, "And there happened to be more than one of them in it at the time. And that's… pretty much it," she glances off to the side. "I mean, knocked one of them out with that tazer you gave me. But I wasn't expecting the other to have that shotgun… and… such…" she trails off, again. "I swear! It was a horrible idea and I'll never try to help anybody ever again I promise!" she says, slightly sarcastically on the last bit.
I'll see to it that the books are not late, Sophie," Donna says to the blind girl, before turning her eye toward Fiona. "…So," she says after a stretch of silence, "what, then, would have been a method that *wouldn't* have gotten you shot in the face, hm?"
"I don't… know," Fiona murmurs, "It was the only thing I could think of… the rest of them had assault rifles, I just sort of figured the guy in the truck would not be ready or there wouldn't be more than one, if any…" she murmurs, frowning. "It probably would've been better not to get involved…"
"Thank you," Sophie murmurs, in answer to Donna's assurance. "It would seem that now, I should leave you two alone." She turns, facing over her shoulder, and nods in Fiona's direction. "Thank you again, Fiona; I hope we can chat again soon." She cradles her left hand against her belly, and with the soft tap-tap-tap of her cane, guides herself towards the door. Without further word, she slips out into the corridor, and is gone as the doors slide shut behind her.
"Oh come off it, child," Donna blurts as the door closes. "If what I've heard is right, just *being* there got you involved. Now stop sulking, and *think.* Two people in the car. One has a firearm. *What would you do different.*" Impatient, perhaps, but it seems to be very important to Donna that the question be answered to her satisfaction.
"Well… I guess… I could have blinded them, perhaps…" Fiona rubs the back of her neck a little, again. "With a light spell. Or maybe set them on fire but… I don't know… I guess I've been without for so long it wasn't my first instinct to go for the magic…"
Donna inclines her head. "A fair enough analysis, yes. Which is why, once we arrive home tomorrow? Enough faffing about, you'll be learning combat magic and you'll be learning it fast and hard. By the time we're done, I'll want you able to judge in a heartbeat, when the use of magic is necessary and how to use it in appropriate response to the threat in front of you. Now that that's out of the way…" Moving to the edge of the bed, Donna sits, her impatience melting away and voice softening somewhat. "…It's good to see you healthy enough to witter at me, Fiona. When I'd heard what happened, I'd feared you'd be clinging to life, at best."
"I was pretty sure I was dead…" Fiona says rather matter-o-factly, "And then there were some weird dreams, and I woke up here… mostly in one piece… I dunno what kind of technology they have, or mutant powers, but it's pretty crazy…" she murmurs, "And Sophie helped take down the pain so I can move again…" she pokes at her midsection gingerly, "It's no wonder you hear about mutants getting into fights all the time if they have access to this sort of medicine…"
"Well, let's focus on the fact that you're *not* dead, to start," Donna says quietly, casting her gaze about the medbay. "Personally… I'd rather doubt they *all* are this fortunate. If they did, Mutant Town would likely be a good deal less squalid, mh? Don't pick at that, it won't heal properly. Anyhow. That young lad who hired me to find his redhead friend, remember? Apparently, he's connected enough in this place, he got me temporary clearance. And apparently, a bed for the night. So rest, lass. I've an Emma Frist to speak to tomorrow, and you've got the job of healing to finish up."
"A … who?" Fiona blinks, shrugging a little as she lays back down on her bed; despite having healed up nicely, everything the last couple days has /really/ sapped her energy something fierce… "That's good… anyway…" she murmurs again, trailing off.
"Not for you to worry about," Donna says, voice gentle as she slips off the bed, resting her palm on Fiona's forehead for a moment. "And if it helps? When you go to sleep, know that the ones directly responsible for this mess are already quite well taken care of. And if they try anything again? *I'm* involved."
"Okay…" Fiona mumbles sleepily, drifting off.
