ArchivedLogs:Rest

Rest
Dramatis Personae Melinda, Flicker, Hive
In Absentia	2014-07-12 '
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Dining Room - Lower East Side
Adjacent to the kitchen, the dining room is a fairly large room with an open lay out. It is generally set up cafe-style, with eight to ten round tables set a comfortable distance from each other, with a few bar high, smaller tables with taller chairs around the exterior perimeter. The floor is a middling dark fiber color, hovering somewhere around gray, divided up into foot long squares for easy replacement. The walls are a light green, illuminated by many windows. Halfway through the room, there is a small alcove built into each wall, providing a place for a dividing wall to recess out of foot traffic. Closet doors constructed of polished wood contain additional tables and chairs to transform the space from smaller get-togethers to a full scale party room for the whole of the Harbor Commons. It's a sunny Saturday afternoon, so naturally there are classes that keep people inside and away from the wonderful sunshine. One might think that Jax planned this all along, keeping all the sun for himself. In the name of better serving her community, Melinda has opted in to the first aid and de-escalation classes. She is not looking to go on raids any time soon, but it does not make the knowledge useful one the receiving end. Plus things have been tense. It's taken all of her previous shelter experience to help keep things somewhat subdued. New knowledge is required. Having left Tola with Tove, Mel is unencumbered for class. She wears a loose gray jersey knit skirt with a sleeveless top that gives the appearance of wrap and drap in its purple folds, but the design is quite simple. Her hair is done in twin braids, folded up again at the nape od her neck and looking very much like exaggerated earrings. She sits in the back of the room as the lunch break is called, looking over the notes she's been taking - yes, she's been taking notes. She exhales as she realizes the room is emptying, lips purses as she looks over the faces, missing Hive. Hive is nowhere to be seen among the faces -- mostly familiar though there is a generous helping of largely unfamiliar faces sprinkled among them, old team members who have /actually/ decided to take a break this past year returning at Jax's call so as not to shut themselves out of future runs. Even unfamiliar faces are easy to identify; the heavy scarring most of them bear mark them as what they are. As things break for lunch though Hive is not among the crowd, Flicker /is/, sprinkled with his own scars, dressed neat in khakis and a green polo that hangs empty on his right sleeve. He has been taking notes of his own, not with pen and paper -- not yet used to writing with his off-hand -- but on a small tablet that still sits on the table where he had been seated. At the moment he is talking with a small thin woman with dark hair and eyes and a tired somber expression; beside them there is another man, stocky and prematurely greying with a knotty snarl of scars of his own twisted down the side of his face and a prosthetic arm below his right elbow. It has perhaps been a while since any of them have seen each other; their quiet conversation ends with a fierce hug (from the older man to Flicker) and a firm backpat (from the woman) that suggests in her solemn manner it is as good as she /gets/ to hugging. As the two others head outside where food has been set out in the courtyard, Flicker's eyes skip over Melinda, dropping to the ground before lifting again. "He didn't come," he finally says, quiet and a little apologetic as he drifts nearer her seat. "I mean, he did. Come." His finger lifts to tap his temple in indication. "Just not..." While she peripherally noticed him before, Mel focuses on Flicker when he speaks to her. There is a quick grateful smile to start, an embarrassed blush starting to grow afterward. "Oh. Well, good," she offers quietly, her features skewing slightly at the awkward phrasing. Lips purse hard and a breath is sucked in deeply. "How is he doing? Tola misses him." She misses him more as she has a greater capacity to notice his absence, but it's harder to say out loud. "How are you? You were pretty hurt when you got back. Have you finished healing now?" "He's --" Flicker stops, after this, brows furrowing and his teeth digging into his lip in hesitation. "It's," he finally settles on, "been a rough." This is followed by a quiet hitch of laugh before he concludes: "... year. But this last run was the roughest yet. He misses her, too." That is quieter; a moment later he looks back towards his seat where he's left a backpack set down next to his chair. "Oh. He sent a thing. I'm supposed to give..." The question of his own healing earns only a shake of his head as he scoots back to his backpack to pin it between his legs and unzip it. "Ah, I am sorry to hear it." Melinda shifts her weight, turning in her chair to observe. Her hands gather up her notes and writing implement, but do not settle on how to hold them. She presses the note pad to her chest briefly, but lays it down in her lap afterwards, nervous about the future but trying to cram it down inside her. "Tell him to rest and take care of himself, and if he needs anything, all he has to do is ask." Fingers slide up under a braid to itch wt her scalp, gaze following Flicker's hand. "Same goes for you, okay? I still find it odd to get up in the morning and not see you getting ready for class." A quick smile pulls at Flicker's mouth, eyes canting up towards Mel. "Just one more year of that, thank goodness." Well, undergrad, anyway. The path to actually being a doctor, kind of a lot more than that. He digs in his backpack a moment before pulling out a soft stuffed turtle. Standing, he carries it back to Melinda. "See, it's Tove." His gaze has dropped down to the turtle, his one remaining hand clutching it by a flipper. "Rest is hard, still. I guess -- we might rest when all this is finally over, you know?" "Rest is hard," Melinda agrees, her mind going back to how useless she felt when she was stuck on bed rest. Then again, it was probably easier for her as she could convince herself that another person's life was on the line. She reaches out and takes the small turtle, cradling the fuzzy body in her fingers. "I think she needs a stuffed bee next - to represent him. Or maybe a grouchy looking little dragon. I am never quite sure." She wets her lips as she settles it in her lap. "Please don't wait until it is completely and finally over. Get some rest and healing sooner rather than later." "I was just going to get her a Grumpy Bear," Flicker answers with a quick smile. The smile fades, though, as he leans his hand against the dining table. "It's just, how do you even start with that? In the middle of all this? After Vermont, maybe. Then. Then a long vacation." Despite his hopeful words, hopeful tone, there's something distant in his expression. "Then, /all/ the rest." "The only thing I can think is that you make a conscious decision to do it, much like any other activity." Not fully convinced of this herself, Mel lets her chin guide her head down toward her chest. "I am not an expert. I'm just worried." She looks up and offers Flicker another smile. "Grumpy Bear works. I have a feeling that her side of the room is going to be covered with Care Bears soon. Which should we get to represent you?" "Oh --" A faint flush spreads through Flicker's cheeks. "I don't think I'm really any --" A shiver of mental image flutters through Mel's mind; Loyal Heart Dog nestled up against Tola. Flicker's blush deepens. The quiet mental touch fades into silence once more. Flicker straightens, offering his arm out to Mel. "You want to get lunch?" Mel closes her eyes at the touch of Hive's mind, and while an amused smile pulls at her lips, she is a little sad. Another rush of missing him quickly filters quickly through her mind before she takes control of her emotions and brightens the smile toward Flicker. "Yes. Lunch would be good. Thanks." She gets to her feet and walks out with Flicker, focusing on him now.