doctor beverly (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dancingmd) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-08-14 07:25 pm
dancingmd) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-08-14 07:25 pm
[open]
who: Beverly Crusher and you!
what: Amnesia Event: Beverly is slowly going to be losing the memory of her native language - ieEnglish Federation Standard
when: August 12-16
where: Most anywhere around Riverview you'd like to run into her, really
warnings: none
August 12-13
It starts innocently enough. A few words that dance on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach.
"Could you hand me the ah..." With a small frown, Beverly gestures at the scanner sitting on her work table across the room. Scanner's not right. What’s the term... Tricorder?, her nurse suggests. "Yes, the tricorder! Thank you!"
Not enough coffee, Beverly thinks, shrugging it off as overworking. Except when she stops by the cafe the next morning, coffee escapes her as well. "One…” She searches for the right word. “Raktajino, please." The barista stares. The word is too specific to Klingon for the translator to pick up and Beverly flushes. Her eyes dart up to the menu, zeroing in on what has to be the right word. With a nervous smile of apology, she tries again.
Shaken, she takes her cup of coffee - coffee, coffee, coffee she tries to remind herself - back to a small table by the window. She doesn’t drink. Something is very, very wrong here.
August 14-15
By now, she’s heard about the spores, run into other people suffering memory losses. It’s not… comforting exactly, but it is something. At least she knows it’s not just her. And maybe she can do something to help. If she doesn’t lose all her words first, that is. She’s found she can supplement some things with bits and pieces of other languages - the Klingon she’s picked up from Worf (Unfortunately, she mostly learned what she knows from martial arts classes with him. It’s not too often one needs to bring up kicks and punches when dissecting a plant. Fortunately, Klingons have an almost artistic appreciation for cursing, which she finds is coming in very useful) or Betazoid, even a few Vulcan. It’s a haphazard linguistic mish-mash, but whatever magic Riverview uses as a universal translator seems to be able to take on the job for the time being.
Having her on regular rotation at the hospital right now is out of the question, of course, so she can be found mostly in the research labs or even at Gramarye or the hydroponics garden to see what other people are working on.
August 16
Eventually, she’s opting to stay silent around people. More often than not, she babbles when she speaks, to her endless frustration. So she seeks solace in the library, sitting on one of the big comfy reading chairs with her legs tucked under her and a children’s picture book propped in her lap. Each page has an illustration from everyday life where big bold letters tell you what you’re seeing. Tree. Fireman. Cat. This she can still do, the alphabet and sounding things out, her forefinger underlining the syllables. Images of Wesley come to mind, of her guiding his tiny hands across the page, of him grinning up at her when he figured out a really hard word. Hydrant.
With a sigh, she turns the page. There's a map. Where, she doesn't know - the shapes are all wrong. "Is-land," she reads out loud. No, that's not right is it? "Eye-land." Better, but even though she remembers for the moment, no doubt it will slip away like the others.
what: Amnesia Event: Beverly is slowly going to be losing the memory of her native language - ie
when: August 12-16
where: Most anywhere around Riverview you'd like to run into her, really
warnings: none
August 12-13
It starts innocently enough. A few words that dance on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach.
"Could you hand me the ah..." With a small frown, Beverly gestures at the scanner sitting on her work table across the room. Scanner's not right. What’s the term... Tricorder?, her nurse suggests. "Yes, the tricorder! Thank you!"
Not enough coffee, Beverly thinks, shrugging it off as overworking. Except when she stops by the cafe the next morning, coffee escapes her as well. "One…” She searches for the right word. “Raktajino, please." The barista stares. The word is too specific to Klingon for the translator to pick up and Beverly flushes. Her eyes dart up to the menu, zeroing in on what has to be the right word. With a nervous smile of apology, she tries again.
Shaken, she takes her cup of coffee - coffee, coffee, coffee she tries to remind herself - back to a small table by the window. She doesn’t drink. Something is very, very wrong here.
August 14-15
By now, she’s heard about the spores, run into other people suffering memory losses. It’s not… comforting exactly, but it is something. At least she knows it’s not just her. And maybe she can do something to help. If she doesn’t lose all her words first, that is. She’s found she can supplement some things with bits and pieces of other languages - the Klingon she’s picked up from Worf (Unfortunately, she mostly learned what she knows from martial arts classes with him. It’s not too often one needs to bring up kicks and punches when dissecting a plant. Fortunately, Klingons have an almost artistic appreciation for cursing, which she finds is coming in very useful) or Betazoid, even a few Vulcan. It’s a haphazard linguistic mish-mash, but whatever magic Riverview uses as a universal translator seems to be able to take on the job for the time being.
Having her on regular rotation at the hospital right now is out of the question, of course, so she can be found mostly in the research labs or even at Gramarye or the hydroponics garden to see what other people are working on.
August 16
Eventually, she’s opting to stay silent around people. More often than not, she babbles when she speaks, to her endless frustration. So she seeks solace in the library, sitting on one of the big comfy reading chairs with her legs tucked under her and a children’s picture book propped in her lap. Each page has an illustration from everyday life where big bold letters tell you what you’re seeing. Tree. Fireman. Cat. This she can still do, the alphabet and sounding things out, her forefinger underlining the syllables. Images of Wesley come to mind, of her guiding his tiny hands across the page, of him grinning up at her when he figured out a really hard word. Hydrant.
With a sigh, she turns the page. There's a map. Where, she doesn't know - the shapes are all wrong. "Is-land," she reads out loud. No, that's not right is it? "Eye-land." Better, but even though she remembers for the moment, no doubt it will slip away like the others.