The day before Valentine's Day - the last RP thread

Hi all,

I appreciate that everyone is involved in the other campaigns that are running, at least for the next few days, but I figured one last one of these could be good for anyone that wants to make an appearance. I decided that, because these things take a long time to move anywhere (seriously, the last thread covered a timespan of about fifty minutes) I would pin this one down to the day before Valentine’s Day, so that there’s a sense of connection to the session.

So, it’s Saturday, February 13th, 35AR (known in our timeline as 1909). Esther and Jasper are getting married tomorrow, on the Sunday. Spring is still trying to get a toehold in, but the snows have melted, at least. What are you all doing?

#74 is sitting smoking a cigarette in the sunshine, with a pile of papers on her lap and a cup of tea cooling beside her. So far, her filing system has remained inviolate, but people got careless. Everyone was very excited about the wedding, but paperwork still had to be done. People wandered around the camp, chatting amiably. She didn’t really “miss” Hanover, anymore than she missed anywhere, but it was nice to be back.

Esther and Harriet lounged on the porch outside the taverna, wrapped in blankets and giggling wildly, feeding off of one another’s delight as Esther, holding her daughter in the air up above her head, pulled her down suddenly, covering her face with kisses before repeating the motion.

Something about the last few weeks, probably starting with Orpha (already well into a festive drunken stupor) approaching her on Christmas and saying: “Esther! Let’s do some SCIENCE!” had, if not fixed her, allowed her some measure of peace from the self-inflicted torment that had followed her unintentional trip to Switzerland. Maybe it was the caffeine-fueled late-night research sessions with Lewy during which she’d begun to feel that they really might be onto something, or allowing Moss to fuss over her in preparation for her wedding, or feigning horror over Zek’s latest betting pool, or constant arguments with Jasper about her lack of willingness to knit boot hats- Somehow, she’d begun to feel like herself again.

Bringing the baby near to her face again, she kissed her on the tip of the nose then sat up, cuddling her close. “You’re going to be Harriet Petrov after tomorrow. I like the sound of that.”

She picked up Boot Hats the bear and waved him Harriet’s face, starting anew their cycle of shrieks and giggles.

#13 is poking his head into empty rooms, looking for something suitable as sleeping space. Fully expect that it will be the first empty one he finds :stuck_out_tongue:

Avoiding anyone in official HEITC uniforms in case they ask about IOU’s.

Every so often will check in on Jane and ask random males if they are a Zeke.

Zek sat next to the velocipede in the barn, waiting patiently until it ran through the last of its water and the engine whirred to a stop. He patted the worn leather upholstery affectionately, returned all the controls to default, and then headed out of the barn, securing the door behind him.

There was a chill in the air this morning, and he grinned as he huffed out clouds of steam. Surgery tomorrow. And a wedding, he thought, but there would be a wedding whether he was there or not. He’d already done his dash as best man, and that was an afternoon he hoped never to experience again. The surgery, on the other hand, that required his presence. He wondered idly how many assistants, onlookers and surgeons-by-proxy could fit into the infirmary. He was glad he wasn’t in Albi any more. They would have made a lecture in practical medicine out of him.

Three days had passed since he’d left Hanover, off to Portree again (despite Leo’s stern looks - Zek had scribbled that it was only fifteen miles, and then underlined it seven times) to help with the early lambing. Many of the Portree folks now knew him as ‘That Irish lad that doesn’t talk.’ #74 had said once that Bill referred to him as ‘the farmer’. Zek liked that, in a way. It made him sound like a city boy made good.

He wandered round the side of the taverna, looking in through the infirmary window briefly, then stopped at the edge of the porch, watching Esther lifting Harriet high into the air. He saw a man in a red Robin coat come walking patiently across the grass towards him, raising his eyebrows in an inquiring way.

Jane had finished cleaning the lab. The projects were done,the tools put away safely… all the distractions were gone. Only one week left before her holiday ended. Her superiors would be pleased. Jane hadn’t proven herself insane, she hadn’t killed anyone, nothing overly dramatic had happened on Skye and soon she would be back at work. Back in Hell. Jane looked around for something to distract her from that thought. Maybe she could build something.

The mess hall at Raasay Station was almost empty and #36 sat in the silence and waited. His bags had long since been packed with his meagre belongings and all that remained was for him to wait until it was time to leave for Hanover Camp.

The prospect of meeting new people excited #36. Meeting people who might have known Cormac, the man he had once been and finally meeting #74 after all those letters back and forth.
It would also be good to leave Raasay Station for a time. Dr Westing had been friendly enough but #36’s other handlers had been apprehensive and wary around him ever since the business with Corporal Burr back in Amristar. #36 would not appologise for his actions though, they had been just.

He had been removed from active duty for a month now and the boredom went through to his very bones. A change would be welcome.

Dahlia lay on the empty surgery bed scribbling her signature on posters that she got made up. She had decided everyone was due in for another medical examination. In times like these, they should be happening once a week. Sadly no one seemed too keen on doing it this often, so twice a year will have to do. For now.

Sighing as she got up, she carried the stack of posters and left the Infirmary to put them up around the camp.
“Hopefully everyone sees these” she thought to herself.

Dr Swanhilde tries to not let on how worried she is about every person (alive or differently alive) in the camp. She keeps a watchful eye on everyone so that no one is without someone looking out for them. A habit she inherited from her mother that is becoming more prominent the more she grows up.

To everyone else though, Dahlia is just busy shuffling through papers or shooting concerned looks at other inhabitants of the camp from over her clipboard or book.

At the moment she was doing both, by shuffling through the posters and glancing at Jane as she entered the lab and put up a poster before silently exiting.

“HI Dahlia!” Jane chirps cheerfully as Dahlia starts to leave. “What is… oh medical check ups.” Jane pauses, then smiles “No, thank you.”

Dahlia stops in her step and turns, nodding a quick greeting towards Jane, then hangs her head a little and keeps walking, hoping everyone else in the camp would be more willing.

She walked around the corner and put a poster up in the tea room. Her pace was a lot slower, from what she suspected could be tiredness combined with sadness. She yawned as she smoothed out the poster against the wall.

Jane wanders out after Dalia, seemingly unconcerned about the lack of response. “Will you observing when Zek’s tongue is attached tomorrow?”

“Observing?” she asked, peering around the corner. “Well depending on the nature of the makeup of the tongue, which I really should analyze prior to attaching it, I think naturally it should be a surgeon performing the procedure. It would be best as to prevent infection, unnecessary tearing, accidental piercing of-” Dahlia realised she was probably talking to much and stopped for a moment. “I’m hoping that all goes smoothly, I will definitely be there. Zek will need a familiar face watching over him as I am sure it will be quite scary for him”

“There shouldn’t be any need for that” Jane says cheerfully “We should just be able to push it in at it will work. Umm… maybe some minor adjustments to the stump may be needed to make it fit properly.” Jane thinks about it for a moment. “I really don’t know what more testing can be done on it. We’ve tried everything. Lewy’s good at thinking up tests. Who’s going to be there who is unfamiliar?”

Dahlia manages a small smile “I of course meant the cleanup of the… ‘stump’. With the amount of people wandering through the camp, a procedure like this is no doubt going to get a crowd. I’m hoping we can avoid that though, I’m not fond of having that many people in the Infirmary. The less people there, the better in my opinion.”

She then pondered for a moment “I’m not just a doctor of medicine. If I see an element that I am not familiar with, naturally I am curious as to it’s makeup. I’m just hesitant to attach something to Zek without knowing what it is made up of. Perhaps I should speak to Lewy later today if I see him about what he knows of it’s structure, composition and so on”

Shaking her head, she laughed a little “Sorry, I’m speaking too much again. I must be off to continue putting these around the camp” She bowed her head at Jane “Farvel, my friend” she smiled and headed towards the Taverna.

“I know what it’s made of.” says Jane quietly to empty air, but doesn’t want to interrupt Dahlia if she’s busy. She looks around for another distraction and spots Zek and #13 not too far off. She wanders towards them slowly, just in case she’s interrupting something.

He wandered round the side of the taverna, looking in through the infirmary window briefly, then stopped at the edge of the porch, watching Esther lifting Harriet high into the air. He saw a man in a red Robin coat come walking patiently across the grass towards him, raising his eyebrows in an inquiring way.[/quote]

Noticing a young man he hadn’t as yet met, #13 heads around the Taverna (nodding in passing to mother and child) and approaches, smiling politely.

“Pardon me sir, would you be a Zeke?” red eyes gleaming hopefully

Zek nods, while fishing a pencil out of his pocket.

Sure am. Though it’s Zek, rather than Zeke. Rhymes with heck, or deck, or (and here he paused) nervous wreck. You’re the new Robin, I take it?

A homonculous wearing the companies service attire strides towards 74 before coming to a stop and saluting. The briefest smile or admiration gleams from his abnormally coloured eyes.

Producing a small letter sealed in gold wax he hands it to her and waits

Magnus looked up from his beer as his daughter entered the taverna. He smiled warmly although a look of concern crossed his face as she walked stiffly.

He quickly rose to his feet, almost knocking the table over.

“Dottir, let me help you with those.”

[quote=“Ants”]Magnus looked up from his beer as his daughter entered the taverna. He smiled warmly although a look of concern crossed his face as she walked stiffly.

He quickly rose to his feet, almost knocking the table over.

“Dottir, let me help you with those.”[/quote]

Dahlia loosened up the frown on her face and jumped a little. “Papa, I didn’t see you there!” she gasped, dropping a few of the papers in her hands. “klumpig mig” she sighed, watching the papers hit the ground