[OPEN LOG] Someone should have gave her a Xanax first

[shoplifter]

who: Laura and you.
what: A hospital check-up gone very very wrong.
when: ~9/23/17 at the hospital, ~9/25/17 elsewhere.
where: The Riverview Hospital.
warnings: Some non-suicidal self-harm from a fast-healing child, traumatic reactions and panic attacks, loss of family, emotional stuff, etc. Lots of juicy introspection and diving into her mindset atm. Feel free to jump in wherever you'd like to contact me on plurk for plotting if you're unsure where to jump in! I've bolded potential things to have your character react to, as apology for getting so goddamn prose-y, but feel free to find whatever spot you wanna wedge into.


Laura has been in Riverview for quite a number of weeks now -- and on top of another one or two weeks from home, it's also how long she's been outside of a laboratory as its subject. She's a stubborn creature, and so taking on a whole new world outside of those four cement walls has been quite an experience. She's visited zoos, she's met robots she's liked, and there are people here like her, people who help her steal hats or take her for milkshakes. But there are also things she's faced that have continued to be... unfortunate hurdles.

Making friends her age has been... difficult, and she's not even sure she wants them yet. After all, there's a horrible ache in her chest when she things of the friends she'd been separated with back home. She's not remotely faced the death of Gabriela, nor of her father or Charles, not since the very moment they've died; she has dreams, terrible dreams, the kind where bad men are hurting her, but worse, the kind where Logan and Charles and Gabriela are alive. Alive and walking with her. Going out for milkshakes. Going to stores, or walking pretty forest trails without the threat of soldiers and withering bodies. Her father is healthy and strong in all of them, even if his beard is still salt and pepper.

The dreams always feel real for a ridiculous moment when she wakes in the early morning, but she pushes the wrenching pain in her chest down, dresses, and goes out to try and be a person. She'd promised her father without saying a word: Don't be what they made you. And yes, she's shoplifted (he hated that, even though he did it, too), she's used her claws for silly things, she's distrusted and used force where she felt it fair, and she'll fight in self-defense to the death if she must, but she has not turned into a weapon here. She's kept her promise. That is key. And yet, every time she thinks of the promise, she feels like her chest is going to explode. She's not sure what the feeling means, nor the feeling she gets when she thinks of her hand in Logan's, but she hates it. It makes her bitter toward him in a way she equally hates. She doesn't want to be angry at him for leaving so soon.

She doesn't even have any pictures she can look at, to remember him.

... Except the comics. She keeps them under her pillow and looks at them for Logan and Charles. Sometimes her floormates may find her sitting on the bed, a hand on one of the panels, carefully smoothing the page with Wolverine's face on it. It had only been a week with her father, the one week she'd wanted with her family, her daddy, but sometimes she wonders if it was better to not be with him at all. After all, look where it led them all -- for her. She has not once forgotten what he'd said about Caliban or Charles. They hadn't asked for that. Neither did the Munsons.

When she tells Linda she's never visited a 'pediatrician', the case worker is flummoxed. She schedules her an appointment, and the moment they enter the Riverview Hospital, Laura feels... a shift within herself. Her pupils dilate, her hands clench, and she feels needling memories trying to wriggle their way to the forefront of her mind. The place is bigger, more sterilized and impersonal, with uniformed nurses and doctors in familiar long coats.

"Watch the video, X-23, or we'll have to restrain you."

She didn't understand how wrong the videos were, in that room with Dr. Rice, until she stepped into the real world and didn't find corpses and blood and destruction outside where she walked.

She's nearly breaking the bones in Linda's hand as she's lead to the waiting room. She sits, twitching, and waits for a number of minutes as Linda fills out more paperwork for her. All the people in the room are horribly calm, bored even, and she tries to remind herself of that little homely doctor's office she'd dragged her father to. Not all doctors are bad. She knows. They just may be 'wolves in sheep's clothing'. They're often not who they seem to be. People thought Dr. Rice and the others were just doctors curing cancer, after all. Poor cancerous children, in need of saving, that's the talk she's heard from bitter nurses who hated Transigen.

Finally, after some time, she's called into the room, and the doctor gives her a little smile. She pulls away from the bloodpressure machine, but she relents to letting him check her tongue and throat. "You're a very healthy kid, Laura," he says cheerfully, "You are lacking in your shots. Are you scared of needles?"

She says a clipped no, but her eyes are staring distantly, away from him.

Around the time he presses the needle into her skin is when things go very wrong.

"Are we sure this is wise? Why not wait until X-23's mutation develops naturally?"

"It could be an added number of years, gentlemen, and we've little time to dawdle our budget on normalcy. Raise the radiation levels."



She can't remember exactly what happens, but she hears Linda scream her name as she's up on her feet, claws bursting from her skin -- claws that meet skin, but the doctor is at least fortunate enough to throw himself back from the wild swing of her arm before she can potentially kill him. The wound on his shoulder will need stitches, and despite the sight of it, a surprisingly brave Linda moves after the girl with a hand out and a worried, "Laura! Stop!"

"Raise the levels again. I want this surgery done as soon as possible."

Her father's claws came to him when he was thirteen; Laura does not know this.

What she does know is hers came in when she was ten.

Laura bursts forward with a scream and cuts the door of the patient room into pieces, shoving through the fragments and onto the main floor. Nurses and doctors all scramble at the sight of her, one claw with blood on it, the other glinting dangerously in the fluroescent lighting. She's not all there in the eyes, driven by something raw and instinctive while she goes rushing through the hospital. One may have the misfortunate of running into her there, panting and rabid, so lost to whatever's in her head that she can't differentiate the exits.

Maybe you'll have luck in apprehending her. Or maybe she'll hurt you. Just be careful, huh?

Either way, maybe it's better to show her how to leave, than trying to keep her put.



Whatever happens... Eventually, Laura will end up escaping her confines, or otherwise escape capture altogether. It's really not too hard, when you heal easily and can cut through anything that's not adamantium. She doesn't return to her home for a few days, too anxious that someone will be waiting there for her, to tell her she's unfit for the outside world. They could lock her up again. And she's not sure she could stomach solitary confinement as a home and life, not after french fries and awkward hugs, or foul-smelling fireworks, or... or toy stores... So she finds herself pacing through alleyways, trying to stave off an overwhelming feeling in her chest... The same she felt when her father comes to memory in the dead of night. Don't be what they made you. Don't be what they made you.

She's trying so hard not to be, but the claws almost have a mind of their own. They move when she can't find the mind to, ready to fight, ready to defend her, even against things she doesn't need to be saved from. Like... pediatrians. But he could have been poisoning her all over again. The serum made them stronger, and stronger means being used for 'nefarious plans'. It means breaking her wordless promise. With an impressive amount of energy, she cuts angry lines across the brickwork on some of the buildings, slicing up dumpsters, and eventually, she can be found sitting against a wall there, her expression worryingly blank as she runs her twin claws over the back of her arm and watching it heal up.

She's mentally drained from this past two months, and more than willing to listen to people now.

At the end of the week, she'll finally return to the apartment. Probably thanks to helpful words, really.

Linda will greet her nervously -- but she doesn't abandon her, and offers a kind smile that mirrors Gabriela's. "I'm sorry," she tells her quietly, and Linda surprises her by stepping timidly forward and pulling her head into her bosom, hugging her very gently; Laura hugs her back with blood-stained knuckles and closes her eyes, relinquishing control for just a moment.

When her head hits the pillow, she dreams about forest trails again.




Feel free to come find her after her hospital freak-out, these coming days.

Comments

hospital; close encounter of the violent kind

[potentialed]

It's the screams that alert him, followed by noises of destruction and running feet. He follows as quickly as he can, wanting to stop it if he could. This shit will not fly in his hospital.

The sight that greets him is definitely not one he had expected. That was...that was Laura. Jesus. He's almost too stunned to act at first but he shakes himself into resolve when it looks like she's going to swipe at someone else with those claws. He casts a large, golden shield in front of her, the sound of the energy crackling through the air loud as the others went silent. The nurses and doctors backed away, using the chance to get out of Laura's path.

Though Stephen wasn't likely to let her leave willingly. Not like this.

Hand raised to hold the shield where it is, he stands a few feet behind her, "Laura, I need you to calm down. Now."

[shoplifter]

Laura's head whips, hair flipping back and forth as she looks at the doctors and nurses moving away from her; good, good, an escape. She doesn't want to be here. She doesn't want to see anymore of this place — no killing, she thinks. No killing. Maiming, maybe, if they try and hurt her. Try to hold her. The shield makes the hair on her arms raise and she looks alarmed for a moment, hand pulled back to strike, but she's not sure what she's supposed to be striking at.

"X-23, put your claws away now."

Clearly the best course of action is to frantically start slicing at the magical shield instead of listening to the foggy voice, storming it with newfound panic; she's not going to be kept here, not when there are serums and labcoats and monitors, boards with her name on them. A feral scream rips through her as she attacks it.

How well does adamantium claws do against magic shields, doc?

[potentialed]

They apparently give off gold flurries the more they are hit. Stephen doubles down on it, making it bigger, reinforcing it while also trying to prevent her from getting to anyone else. If she is going to go anywhere, it'll have to be in his direction.

He considers possibly transporting them to the mirror dimension until she calms down but then discards that idea. It would probably just make her more panicked than she already is.

He calls out to her again, "Laura, please! Calm down!"

[shoplifter]

He's trying to block her. Trying to keep her pinned down, keep her from going anywhere but toward him -- she reads it, sees it even through her blind panic. And even though the initial black out reaction her mind had whirled into is dissipating, she's left with a whole new sort of fear. She'll clearly be labeled as unsafe, that much she can decipher. And what does that mean for her here? Getting divorced from the outside world. Being put away, perhaps, and re-labeled as a threat.

A taste of freedom makes the thought a terrifying one. She has to get away.

Once she realizes he can just strength and fortify his magic, her mind works in overdrive, thinking of the different lessons taught to her in those padded rooms. The testing, both physical and mental... A light bulb flicks. Without hesitation and without turning her anxious gaze away from her 'enemy', she turns her four claws inward, impaling them through her chest. A stagger forward, and then blood, dripping from her lip.

As her claws slowly slide back into her forearms, she collapses into a heap on the floor.

the alleyway

[infact]

The few days that Laura is absent from the apartment doesn't go by unnoticed, although initially, Arisu tries not to worry. Yet as the days went on, she begins to wonder just where the other girl had gone. They might not know each other well enough yet, but Arisu finds it in herself to look out for her roommates, much like how she feels towards the girls that she had shared a stage with.

There may be a multiple concerned text messages left in Laura's inbox:

I haven't seen you around the apartment in some time. Where are you? Are you okay? Let me know if you require my assistance.

While Arisu heads home from classes, she pauses next to the alley, her attention is caught off guard by the lines across the brick walls and sliced up dumpsters. She's a smart enough girl, not to go wandering after a trail of destruction. But when she sees the familiar figure against the wall, she makes a turn into the alleyway (with her poor case worker losing sight of her in the process.) She's still standing a ways off, not quite getting a clear look of the claws just yet.

"...Laura-san? Is that you?"

[shoplifter]

Laura leaps up like it's an electric current up her spine, a shadowy figure against the sunlight bleeding through behind her -- there, her claws are extended, still ready to fight, and blood drips from the slowly healing cuts across her skin. If it had been an adult, someone who could have been there to trick her, lure her back to capture, she would be more defensive. But her guard drops faintly, and her rigid figure relaxes at the horror of who it is she's facing.

She likes Arisu. She doesn't want her to -- see her being scary.

Being dangerous.

She takes a step back, looking unsure of what to do or say.

[infact]

During her short time in Riverview, she had seen a man with cat-like features, was rescued by a large mecha, and a lot of phenomenon she would expect to see in works of fiction. Arisu is merely an average girl without powers and sometimes, she almost feels out of place. Everything here continues to surprise her.

She finally catches sight of the claws, then the blood. For a moment, her eyes widen, frozen in fear. Other normal people would probably turn tail, but she's a stubborn one. Abandoning someone that you care about would be childish, she tells herself. She's not like that.

"...Laura-san."

She repeats again, trying to keep her voice unwavering, composed like her normal demeanor. Her feet budge, taking several steps towards the other girl.

"I've been wondering where you went. Will you come back to the apartment? I don't think you should be staying out here and we should clean off that blood."

[shoplifter]

She can practically smell fear on Arisu, and it makes her stomach icy... but she's still here, still talking to her. The attempt at squashing down her own uncertainty to face a mutant is an admirable one, especially with what Laura imagines she looks like right now. Quickly, she has her claws withdrawn back into her skin, vanishing into her arms. The little cuts feel fairly quickly.

But healing physically is one thing. Healing elsewhere is another.

She looks down at the ground, frowning.

What should she say?

She can only think of a few words, clipped and empty.

"I'll be fine."

[ after the freakout ]

[supersweet]

[ Jon had heard about it, of course. Though by the time he had shown up, it was all over and he had watched from a distance. Violence is . . . not easy for Jon, though he recognizes it. Knows it intimately. He still harbors a sense of hatred for Manchester Black. It was what tore him free from the mind control. That, and other factors. Jon waits until people leave before opening the window easily and settling himself comfortably on a chair. He's not scared of Laura, though those claws might be able to hurt him. But it's a big if anyway and Jon rarely thinks about such possibilities. ]

I got some action figures and candy. We could watch a movie if you want.

[shoplifter]

[Laura sits on the floor with her back to the wall -- which is really just muscle memory, a familiarity. The setting is very different, but she's always liked to put a solid wall behind her when she's riled and anxious. She hears him before he comes through the window, ear tickled, but she can't look him in the eye just yet. She doesn't usually feel this bad. She never did, in the labs. Hurting people in a panic, or a rage, or -- out of spite... it was normal there. They wanted them all to be efficient killing machines, after all.

She holds her knees, arms around them, and looks at him finally from under a veil of dark hair when he speaks up. Something about it troubles her. Confuses her, even. Isn't he a small superhero? Isn't this sort of thing something he'd be unhappy about? It's strange that people have been kind, when she's unsafe. She's still trying to figure that sort of mindset out.]

... Why?

[supersweet]

[ Jon pauses. He's not surprised that is her first question, but Jon isn't all that verbose. He doesn't stutter and he rarely speaks rashly. He's a kid, just like Laura, no matter what kind of experiences they've had. Damian is too and Jon never lets him forget that either. It's just as important as all the other parts that belong to them alone. He settles against the wall next to her. ]

I get it. When you do something awful, whether you meant to or not, it just doesn't go away. People telling you it's okay doesn't make it go away.

[ Even if Manchester Black was never Jon's fault, there were moments — bitter dark moments that were Jon's alone. The flush of rage, the god-like fury. Knowing that he was the strongest and no one could stop him —

It's hard to swallow. ]

Damian says it gets better. He would probably get it too. We all get better, it's just . . . slow. And it's better to have company than to be alone when you feel that way.

[ He rubs the back of his neck quietly, a little sheepish. ]

Does that make sense?

[shoplifter]

[She thinks about her friends, when he says that. They've never had a normal childhood, and they've never had a normal friendship. They weren't allowed to. It was a breath of fresh air for all of them, their newfound freedom, and despite the pain of Logan's decision to leave them... that night, around the campfire? It'd been a special kind of release. She felt... something. She felt less hollowed out. She smiled and laughed and there was no one around to tell them not to.

So she does understand, even if not completely. She understands being alone is the worst place to be -- and days spent in solitary for rash behavior has told her as much, too. She looks at him for a long (maybe awkwardly long) moment, scanning him, trying to figure out how to speak for herself. She can, but it doesn't come easy. Like the others, she had little room to express her wants and needs and opinions.]

... I did not mean to.

[She at least wanted to let him know that much, if the words don't come easily.

She just... Something shifted, and all that followed was panic and training and fear.]

alley

[alchemyfreak]

At first he's unaware anyone is in the alley, but as he's passing by he hears the commotion and immediately turns to face whatever it is - probably assuming someone was being attacked. In a whirlwind of activity, there's Laura slicing up the wall and ripping apart a dumpster before dropping to the ground to sit against the building to carve into her own arm.

Ed's dealt with Wrath enough times to recognize this sort of outburst, and although he doesn't know Laura or what she's going through he knows this sort of behavior was likely spurred by something happening. A part of him was relieved and admittedly surprised that she'd taken up his invitation to Al's party, Laura definitely seemed like the type of kid that needed to experience more fun in her life. Seeing her there like that though, he wondered idly if maybe something had set her off. She'd seemed fine last he'd seen her, but they were still strangers and it was possible there had been something triggering between then and now.

He notices the blank expression, the way she seems to be looking through anything before her eyes and he's cautious. The last thing he wanted to do was set her off again. Still, he wasn't defenseless, if she came after him he could protect himself. Carefully, he approaches slowly, watching her for any sign of recognition - the way she slices into her arm and immediately heals after not lost on him as he speaks softly.

"Hey, kid. You all right?"

She's clearly not all right, but it was the first thing that came to mind. Check for a reaction, see if she'll even respond at all, spaced out as she is. A reaction that hopefully was verbal rather than physical, just because he could defend himself against her didn't mean he wanted to and from what he could see she'd definitely have the upper hand if it did turn to that.

[shoplifter]

Her head jerks toward him, eyes wide and full of conflicting emotion as she rolls to her feet and into a defense position - as if perhaps Edward may very well be playing her and was sent to wrangle her, to collect her. It had been a quiet, whispering fear of hers: that she would do something here in Riverview that the people here would be so fearful and angry of... that she'd be put back in some sort of cell again. Would it be possible? The thought is one that leaves her looking at Ed with some wariness, blood on her jacket, on her hands, and the wounds left on her arm have already began to slowly close.

What is she supposed to say? What does she do? Her paranoia is high.

She knows. She knows she had made a grave error, and she's hurt people in the process. As crippled as her emotions can be, and as screwed up as her train of thinking is thanks to the 'home' she had for eleven years... she knows it was wrong. And she feels... bad. It's a rare feeling, for her. She's only just started coming to terms with it being a new beast to face.

Is he going to fight her? She doesn't budge from her position.

But she doesn't want to fight.

She likes Edward.

[alchemyfreak]

As she gets into the defensive position he stops, moving no closer. Both hands lift in a placating gesture, one that generally suggested a person was unarmed despite the fact that Ed never truly was. She was more like Wrath than he had expected, but that was fine with him - he was rusty, but he’d been with Wrath long enough to recognize this. The last thing he wanted to do was panic her further. Golden eyes roam over her appearance now that she’s up, the blood, the claws, the healing wounds that he’d already caught sight of on her arm. He wasn’t a trusted person here, he knew that. This wasn’t going to be as easy as it was with Wrath after he’d gained the homunculus’ affection, this was different.

Laura was, in a way, as unpredictable as Road. He’d cared about Road, but he couldn’t keep up with her the way he could with Wrath, and he’d always been aware of that. He didn’t know Laura, so the last thing he wanted to do at this point was push her buttons. “Easy,” Ed doesn’t know anything about the hospital, or what happened there, he doesn’t know that she feels at fault for what she’d done, all he sees is a girl in a panic and if he can he wants to help stop it. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The injuries are healing on their own, once again it was doubtful that Laura needed medical attention. This is a relief, considering that means he doesn’t have to try to rush through the first part to get to that part. He can take his time here, they can stay in the alley as long as it she deems it the safer option.

“Did something happen?” Pointing out that she looked upset would be redundant now, so he doesn’t bother. His arms drop back to his sides, still watching her carefully but with no sign of fear. This didn’t look like something an offer of food could fix, but he wasn’t always very good at this part and he didn’t want her to be afraid of him. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen. If not… The dumpster might make a better target than your arm.” Just a subtle hint that he knew what she’d been doing before he’d announced himself, and if that was what she needed to do to vent out whatever this was he wasn’t going to stop her. He wasn’t going to try to remove her from the alley, at least not until she was ready.

[shoplifter]

She looks away from him, when he asks if something happened. Did he not know? That she'd gone and hurt people, and all because of a needle. Something so easy, so controllable, and she couldn't... But how was she supposed to know who to trust? Or what white coat was there for her benefit, and not their own? It leaves her neck goosefleshed, eyes half-lidded with disappointment, withdrawing emotionally from Edward for a moment. What is she supposed to do now...?

"... I heal. It is alright."

That's a start. Clearly it's fine, because she heals, huh? But at least words are being directed.

hospital

[dancingmd]

Beverly has just finished her rounds when the alarm sounds. It takes her a moment to identify it - it's not the typical alarms she hears every day, alerting them to patients needs. Nor is it even a fire alarm (which is definitely a relief). Instead it's more like... an intruder alert. A signal to lock down. She exchanges worried glances with other staff members, but they all know the protocols and move swiftly into action to get their floor secured.

Then, they can hear shouting and screams coming from down the corridor. Instinctively, Beverly moves towards the sounds. Before anyone can stop her she is in the hallway, her hand dropping automatically to her belt before she remembers there's no phaser there, none anywhere to be found. And then the source of the sounds comes into view.

"Laura?" Beverly's eyes go wide at the sight of the girls claws. Mutant, Laura had called herself. Beverly takes a step forward, calls the girl's name again.

[shoplifter]

Laura's eyes are wide and dark, pupils pinpricks in the light. There is some blood, a little on her sleeve - not hers. Blood pitter-pats from the wounds her claws make in her knuckles.

Beverly is too close. She's too close and she's one of them, a doctor — someone who might try to handcuff her; she hates those handcuffs, those ankle cuffs, the ones they use to punish her. She's not going to wear them again. When she takes a step forward Laura recoils, her chest heaving with breaths akin to a panic attack.

She can't let them touch her.

She's in her way. She has to leave, get out, flee, can't get taken in, can't be X-23.

She storms toward the exit - and Beverly might very well be in the way of it.

[dancingmd]

Beverly can see the panic in Laura's eyes and wonders what happened to bring this on. Her gaze drops to those deadly-looking claws before flickering back up to Laura's face. She holds up her hands, palms out, to show Laura she isn't hiding anything.

"Please Laura, let me help you." Her voice remains remarkably steady, given the situation.

closed to Dr. Strange

[dancingmd]

Laura escaped the corridor in a fury of claws and panic, leaving a hospital guard slumped against the wall and Beverly with deep gashes in her arms. Wincing through her own pain, Beverly drags herself over to the unconscious guard. Her tricorder, as always, is in her labcoat pocket. Thankfully, it wasn't broken when she fell. With shaking hands, she takes it out and runs it over the guard. She breathes a sigh of relief when she finds the head wound is not as bad as it looks - or as bad as it could have been.

She fumbles for her pager to call for help, but in the meantime, she'll do what she can from here, ignoring her own pain as best she can.

[potentialed]

After coming back in the hospital, sweaty and out of breath from trying to pursue the child, her blood still on the front of his scrubs, he eventually spots Beverly. They haven't chatted much but she's seen her around enough to be concerned at the sight of blood on her. The blood is stark against the white of her lab coat and he walks over to her, "Hey. Has anyone looked that yet?"

Looks like a fucking warzone around them and it's depressing as hell.

[dancingmd]

She shakes her head, all her focus still on the guard. "No but it's him I'm worried about.." She looks down at the name tag hanging off his lanyard, realizing she has no idea who he is. "Mason. He... She threw him against the wall. He's unconscious."

Beverly you're bleeding still.

Hospital

[ragnarsson]

Ivar can hear the commotion from pretty far off. He'd come here to get Winter a follow up after having been discharged the previous month, but upon hearing yells and screams, his instincts immediately thought of the danger to his little girl. He told the doctor to stay in the room with his daughter under pain of death. That might have been a bit over the top, but Ivar was determined to make sure she wouldn't be harmed.

He goes down first one hallway and then a second one, following the sounds until he sees a small and somewhat familiar shape running into a dead end. He sees those claws, sees some blood dripping off of them, and one hand automatically goes to the knife at his side. Maybe it's just the father in him, but he sees a scared little girl instead of someone who could easily slice him to pieces with the metal-laced weapons in her hands.

Ivar's done a lot of stupid things in his life and approaching Laura when she's in a state like this ranks up there. But Ivar is perceptive. She looks feral, rather like a cornered animal, so he'll treat her like he would a spooked dog. At least he doesn't stick a hand out, afraid she might cut it right off. His tone is low when he speaks. "Hey. It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

[shoplifter]

She whirls around to face Ivar, the area pretty cleared out, especially once the alarm had been sounded off for a violent patient. Somewhere in this place, Doctor Strange had been thrown down, a few security guards, a pediatrician, and a Star Trek doctor with a penchant for trying to do good. Nobody is dead, but they're certainly afraid of the girl's presence. One of the nurses hiding behind her desk pokes her head out to look urgently at the coaxing man.

"What are you doing?! Get back!" she whispers harshly.

Laura takes a step back, eyes wide and alert, breathing sharply. Something seems to have snapped in her head in the moment, triggered by something inside the hospital. But regardless of her gnawing urge to keep fleeing, she recognizes Ivar through the haze. Her claws don't retract. But she isn't leaping to attack. "It's not," she clarifies. It's not alright. She looks paranoid as her eyes wander the scene.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar ignores the nurse's hissed words. He's not big on listening to adults at the best of times. She's not immediately attacking him, so Ivar's a bit encouraged. Things could be worse, despite how grim they seem right now. "You're right. Things are bad." Her eyes look wild and panicked, like she's looking for a way to escape the dead end she's in. "Easy now. Why don't you put those away?" The claws, he means. Not that it will leave the girl any less armed. She can always pull them back out in a second.

"We can go somewhere and talk." Somewhere far away from all these people, where she'll have less chance of hurting anyone.