Ishara’s brows pulled together and he eyeballs rolled upwards at the ceiling as they walked. She pursed her lips and then blew air through them in frustration at her failing memory. “Hart, Hart, Hart. Hmmm.” She tapped at her lip with her index finger. She gave up trying to remember who it was, she had seen so many men afterall.
She gave the General a skeptical look as he reaffirmed his claim that he was only there to see what she was about. Once again, she found that difficult to believe given how monstrous his workload must have been. The thought turned her mood kind of black. Pompous, arrogant, figured he had won the war already, eh? Burn sometime messing around with the locals, huh?
“I see.” Her voice was clipped and she tugged at his arm to redirect him down another hallway. Sounds of an increasingly chaotic situation reached them. Down the hall two double doors crashed open and a CAF medic pushing an empty gurney was running, apparently, to receive another patient. Ishara shoved up against the general though it was entirely unnecessary because he likely had sense enough to make room without her physical reminders.
Something about the panic on the medic’s face as he ran by jogged her memory. “Oh! That’s right. He had a leg infection. Renly, yes, I remember him. He assisted on a procedure, standing so bravely on his infected foot.” Ishara prattled about her encounter with the sergeant. “He’s a good soldier. I can tell. A bit rattled in his mind. His stress response is - well - it could use a good tinkering with.” Ishara popped up and walked on her toes to get close to the general’s ear to speak low. “Messing with the psyche strictly forbidden in our discipline but between you and me - we could work something out.” She patted her free hand on his chest in a way that was entirely too familiar. “Take a little time. Think on it. You know where to find me.”
By the time she finished her bizarre sales pitch, they had reached the double doors. She released his arm and shoved them open with a dramatic flourish that made a few orderlies and medics and wandering patients turn to see what the fuss was about.
“Welcome to the trauma bay, General Weatherfare.” Her cheerful announcement stood in stark contrast to the grisly spectacle of the place. Ishara waved her hands at the onlookers. “Shoo, shoo, all of you.” She clapped her hands at a CAF medic. “Hey. You there. Get back at it now.” The man jumped and saluted his general nervously before scurrying away.
Just seconds after her odd display, the scene returned to it’s normal bustle. Ishara and the General fell into the background as workers rushed around to tend the wounded and the wounded went on suffering.
She gave the General a skeptical look as he reaffirmed his claim that he was only there to see what she was about. Once again, she found that difficult to believe given how monstrous his workload must have been. The thought turned her mood kind of black. Pompous, arrogant, figured he had won the war already, eh? Burn sometime messing around with the locals, huh?
“I see.” Her voice was clipped and she tugged at his arm to redirect him down another hallway. Sounds of an increasingly chaotic situation reached them. Down the hall two double doors crashed open and a CAF medic pushing an empty gurney was running, apparently, to receive another patient. Ishara shoved up against the general though it was entirely unnecessary because he likely had sense enough to make room without her physical reminders.
Something about the panic on the medic’s face as he ran by jogged her memory. “Oh! That’s right. He had a leg infection. Renly, yes, I remember him. He assisted on a procedure, standing so bravely on his infected foot.” Ishara prattled about her encounter with the sergeant. “He’s a good soldier. I can tell. A bit rattled in his mind. His stress response is - well - it could use a good tinkering with.” Ishara popped up and walked on her toes to get close to the general’s ear to speak low. “Messing with the psyche strictly forbidden in our discipline but between you and me - we could work something out.” She patted her free hand on his chest in a way that was entirely too familiar. “Take a little time. Think on it. You know where to find me.”
By the time she finished her bizarre sales pitch, they had reached the double doors. She released his arm and shoved them open with a dramatic flourish that made a few orderlies and medics and wandering patients turn to see what the fuss was about.
“Welcome to the trauma bay, General Weatherfare.” Her cheerful announcement stood in stark contrast to the grisly spectacle of the place. Ishara waved her hands at the onlookers. “Shoo, shoo, all of you.” She clapped her hands at a CAF medic. “Hey. You there. Get back at it now.” The man jumped and saluted his general nervously before scurrying away.
Just seconds after her odd display, the scene returned to it’s normal bustle. Ishara and the General fell into the background as workers rushed around to tend the wounded and the wounded went on suffering.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
The following 1 user Likes saronym's post: megs
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Rainbow of Red [Closed] - by megs - 01-18-2018, 07:46 PM
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