Willing Participants [open] Jul 23, 2010 17:53:21 GMT -8
Post by on Jul 23, 2010 17:53:21 GMT -8
June 7, 2011
June 7, 2011
Snap, crackle, pop... scream.
Katya replaced her wand in the pocket of her white apron, patting the panting man half-heartedly as she yawned. An hour or so and she'd be off, she thought -- unless Trevor showed up, which might happen... but probably not. He'd been wandering around like a dead man the past week, ever since the announcement of the Noland execution; and honestly, it seemed both he and Morgana were too busy to be forcing themselves through strained, awkward dinners as usual. As much as she admired Morgana, it was all the better for the girls. That left only Layla to deal with. That girl was doing all that she could to drive Katya out of her mind, and out of their father's favour -- but Trevor seemed all too able to let the conspicuous fights and pointed fingers slide. It seemed that only when kept busy, such as when they went riding with Sienna, did Layla forget to harass her sister. In the meantime, volunteering was a perfect way to get some air.
She'd been there bright and early, and so had the press. She'd successfully ignored the camera while the least grotesque-looking patient was located for a shot of her smilingly fixing his stitches. After a while she'd been left alone; and from there on was only doling out medicine, changing bandages and correcting bones. One could fall into a very pleasing, mind-numbing monotony after a while... and doing it a hospital gave one a sense of good-will and accomplishment, too. That is, given that the patients kept their mouths shut; they were too often inclined to babbling nonsense at her and asking her too-personal questions about her family life.
A bell rang out for shift changes. Must be five now? She'd thought it was later. As she turned a little flash of black behind a patient's curtain caught her attention, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. A tail? She couldn't abide body guards. Regardless of their intent -- or how much money her father was willing to pay them -- it was still stalking. She didn't like being watched like that... it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.
She gestured to a fellow nurse -- one with a shock of orange hair -- and murmured under her breath, "Any vord from Lord Williams?" She was getting better with diminishing her accent. If he couldn't make it after work, then that was okay... even expected. Some nights he stayed until it was practically morning. In that case, he might send word that she should just head home and not wait around. The nurse stared at her dumbly for a moment before asking, "Yer fa'ver, Miss?" Katya matched her stare. Did she really have to answer that? Yes, her father. Lord Williams. Supreme leader of this outrageously dull woman and all of her kindred. Ring a bell?
She schooled her features into a smile, though her hair was beginning to curl slightly. Practice, instruction and the amazingly helpful insights in Sienna's uncle's journal had brought her a long way toward controlling her abilities as a metamorphmagus. "Yes," She said slowly, "My father." The girl brightened and said, "No, Miss. No word. Lovely hair, Miss."
Katya managed a weak smile and turned on her heel, closing her burning eyes against the blinding white of St. Mungo's ward. Walls, floor, ceiling, curtains, beds, nurses... all white. Looking at the clock upon the wall to her right, she told herself that she would wait another hour at the most, and then assume Trevor was busy and start home on her own.