The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
ALIAS
Duchess
CLASSIFICATION
Auxiliary
POWER
Intuitive Horticulture
AGE
21
Inactive
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Post by Persephone Dean on Nov 6, 2016 9:21:40 GMT
 Get the Gang Together! Just as she opened her mouth, Persephone heard Claire ask the very question that had been on her own lips. She felt her opinion rise slightly. Clearly the girl wasn’t an idiot, even if her apparent motives weren’t quite the same as Persephone’s. The thought to thank the mystery doctor hadn’t even crossed her mind. She just needed to know exactly what had happened to her, why the doctor had chosen to help and what consequences lay ahead.
It was uncomfortable knowing that she owed someone her life. At least if she could meet the person, get a sense of who they were, then she could either relax or prepare. Persephone was not one for believing that people did anything out of the goodness of their hearts alone.
Frankly, Persephone wasn’t really one for believing that there was much goodness in anyone. Naivety, innocence… perhaps. But goodness?
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The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
ALIAS
Duchess
CLASSIFICATION
Auxiliary
POWER
Intuitive Horticulture
AGE
21
Inactive
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Post by Persephone Dean on Nov 5, 2016 21:41:46 GMT
Get the Gang Together! Persephone vaguely resented being shepherded into yet another featureless hospital room, especially by this flustered man in a white coat. She cast a glance at the first man, having labelled him as de facto leader in her head, and felt slightly more confident in following the group as he too obeyed the doctor’s orders. Her appraisal continued across the rest of the group, noting the odd, trance-like expression on Claire’s face, and flashed all of them her best warm smile. No point making any enemies.
“Did you treat us when we first came in?” she enquired, standing across from the doctor. “Surely you must have noticed some signs of recovery, some hint of-” Persephone held back from saying ‘miracle’, refusing to mystify the event “-anomalies?”
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The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
ALIAS
Duchess
CLASSIFICATION
Auxiliary
POWER
Intuitive Horticulture
AGE
21
Inactive
|
Post by Persephone Dean on Nov 5, 2016 13:51:57 GMT
Get the Gang Together! Whatever Persephone had been expecting to come out of that door, it was certainly nothing close to the level of relaxed confidence oozing from the man before her. A smile spread across her features. It wasn’t even fabricated, for a change. This was a man who knew how to convince people that he was in total control. She was even slightly convinced that maybe he was in control, where it not for the fact that his clothes looked like they’d danced in a bonfire before affixing themselves to his form.
She managed to contain her awe. Whilst, of the girls, Persephone was actually the worst authority on the car crash by a long shot, she decided to speak up.
“The crash of June 3rd, yes.”
She was acutely aware that this man could probably spot her masked desire to impress him. On the other hand, she didn’t want to feed him too much information either. For all that he impressed her, she certainly didn’t trust him.
“We’re looking for answers,” she said succinctly, gesturing to the other women. Claire had positioned herself in front of them protectively – amusingly so, to Persephone. As if the slim, dark-haired woman could have done much against any real threat.
Then Persephone realised that the man was not alone, and then she shuffled ever so slightly to the side, suddenly much more appreciative of Claire the Makeshift Shield.
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The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
ALIAS
Duchess
CLASSIFICATION
Auxiliary
POWER
Intuitive Horticulture
AGE
21
Inactive
|
Post by Persephone Dean on Nov 5, 2016 8:24:37 GMT
Crossing Paths Persephone knew what morphine was. Her grandmother had denied it on her death bed, believing that her time had come and that she wanted to experience the end with as much lucidity as possible. She died surrounded by her favourite flowers and with a peaceful expression on her face. Its use wasn’t limited to those who were dying, but they certainly didn’t deal out powerful opioids without reason. Alice must have been in a serious condition.
She started searching for her own chart as Claire made her own investigations. Claire’s reaction to her own chart was even worse than Alice’s. Persephone considered the two girls dispassionately. Either the charts had been faked or these girls were the results of a medical miracle. The idea that someone would play some sick prank on three strangers was a little too far, in Persephone’s view. Surely no one was that twisted – and all for the petty result of worrying the hell out of three young women.
No. Something was wrong, but it wasn’t the charts.
The others were making the decision to leave the apparent safety of their room altogether. Persephone paused in her search, slightly concerned. They didn’t know all the facts. Despite Claire’s brief peek through the doors, they had no idea what was actually out there.
Finally she found the chart.
Acute head injury… something something… (The handwriting was typically sloppy). Attempt to reduce intracranial pressure… more words… CSF drainage…
There was more, and it horrified Persephone to no end. Surely she was reading the report of a dead girl. The horror steeled somewhere within her. Persephone was suddenly overwhelmed by the same conviction Claire was exhibiting.
“Let’s go,” she said in agreement, moving past Alice and out the open door.
She stood in the middle of the corridor, slightly disappointed that nothing seemed to be lurking in ominous shadow. It was a standard hospital corridor. Distant voices indicated that they weren’t alone in this place, and Persephone cast a glance back towards the others.
“We should find someone.” It was not a suggestion, but she controlled the sound of her voice carefully so that it didn’t sound too much like an order. She didn’t want to seem like she was vying for leadership.
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The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
ALIAS
Duchess
CLASSIFICATION
Auxiliary
POWER
Intuitive Horticulture
AGE
21
Inactive
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Post by Persephone Dean on Nov 5, 2016 8:18:47 GMT
Crossing Paths Claire’s response was hesitant and awkward – Persephone could already feel her interest in the girl waning, but tried her best not to disregard her entirely. She had a dangerous habit of deciding people’s importance before they really had a chance to prove themselves, and already Claire was somewhat redeeming herself by taking the initiative and looking out the door. Alice, on the other hand, concerned Persephone. She seemed reckless.
Perhaps that was only in comparison to Persephone. For all her warm smiles and faux confidence currently plastered across her face, she was feeling unbelievably cautious. She was more than happy for the other two to wander off and assess the situation without her, so long as she wasn’t left completely alone.
Apparently the other two weren’t convinced that the actual date was June 5th. Persephone frowned, she’d been halfway to accepting the idea – the situation was strange enough as it was. She still had absolutely no memory of the crash. Her damaged bag was the only indication that she’d been involved.
There was no point checking to see if her phone had the date. The battery had been at 2% when she’d left the house, aiming to sneakily charge it at work. Alice’s chart was all they had.
“What did they say?” she asked, tilting her head with interest. “How bad were you when you first came in?”
She needed evidence, proof that either there had been a miracle… or there hadn’t.
“Maybe there’s another page… another chart…” She was grasping at straws here. “You know how disorganised hospitals can be,” she added with a grin, trying to cover up the fact that she very clearly had no idea what was going on.
She was, in fact, in a very uncomfortable position indeed. It seemed like she was actually the person in the room who knew the least about the situation. Relying on these strangers seemed like her only option at this point.
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The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
ALIAS
Duchess
CLASSIFICATION
Auxiliary
POWER
Intuitive Horticulture
AGE
21
Inactive
|
Post by Persephone Dean on Nov 5, 2016 8:11:37 GMT
Crossing Paths The girls seemed in agreement that there’d been a crash. With Black Hair’s mention of the interstate, Persephone was beginning to think that she must have been involved too. It would certainly explain the apparent amnesia. Considering that she must have had a pretty severe head injury, Persephone was even beginning to echo Black Hair’s query of how long it had been... until Blue Hair found the date.
From Blue Hair’s expression, it seemed like an impossibly short number of days had passed.
“June 5th?” she blurted, eyes wide. “That means it’s only Monday…”
How was that possible? It seemed like there wasn’t a single scratch between them.
She looked around for her own belongings, pulling open the drawer to find at least some of the clothes she’d been wearing on Saturday. Her black skirt was folded carelessly underneath her leather backpack (heavily damaged, but contents intact). The shirt bearing the café logo was nowhere to be found, but that wasn’t too upsetting. Her boots were gone too. After Blue Hair had finished her own search empty-handed, Persephone was quite pleased to have anything at all.
“You got anything?” she asked Black Hair.
It felt childish to keep referring to the others by hair colour. Persephone slid the drawer shut, curiosity satisfied for now, and settled into a cross-legged position on top of the bed.
“I’m Persephone, by the way,” she announced, flashing the warmest smile she could manage at each of her companions.
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The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
ALIAS
Duchess
CLASSIFICATION
Auxiliary
POWER
Intuitive Horticulture
AGE
21
Inactive
|
Post by Persephone Dean on Nov 5, 2016 8:06:19 GMT
Crossing Paths Persephone fought back a reaction to scoff at the raven-haired girl’s question. She was entirely unconvinced of the existence of an afterlife and the idea had not actually even crossed her mind. Instead, she’d been focused upon the potential that a co-worker had driven her insane. Now that she thought about it, perhaps the question was not so idiotic by comparison.
A small, almost child-like girl with startlingly blue hair piped up. Persephone noted that the girl shared her belief that they weren’t in fact in a (very underwhelming) kind of heaven.
Her hesitancy in the follow-up, incomplete question piqued Persephone’s interest. She seemed to know something – something important that could explain why they were here. Persephone’s eyes flitted between the two girls, appraising them the most basic level. The one with blue hair seemed young, but perhaps not quite so young as her appearance would suggest, and her voice had the tone of one who was used to affecting cheer in the face of adversity. The black haired one was pale, like Blue Hair, and looked older. The confusion Persephone felt was reflected quite strongly in Black Hair’s face. Really, it would be impossible to get much of a read on either of them at this point, given the current situation.
“In what?” she pressed, consciously trying to suppress her sense of urgency. The words came out calmly, but only just. She ran her hand through her hair, inspecting the mass of curls distractedly. Whatever answer she was looking for, it wasn’t contained in her follicles.
“Anything you know could be useful,” she said softly. “Either of you. I don’t think we’re dead, but in terms of where we are and why…” Persephone shrugged, letting a little vulnerability show on her face. “I, personally, have no idea.”
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The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
ALIAS
Duchess
CLASSIFICATION
Auxiliary
POWER
Intuitive Horticulture
AGE
21
Inactive
|
Post by Persephone Dean on Nov 5, 2016 7:57:48 GMT
Crossing Paths There was a strange, muffled static sound – loud and unnerving. It was also dark, pitch black in fact, and Persephone panicked for a brief moment before she realised that her eyes were simply shut. With an unexpectedly great effort, she opened them. Instantly her vision was flooded with a painful white light, pupils frantically adjusting to this sensory overload.
The static was diminishing, thankfully. As her eyes slowly became accustomed to taking in the light of the room, so too did her ears begin to pick up the sounds. Hums of machines, distant footsteps… an expletive?
Although a rustle of sheets caught Persephone’s attention, she was feeling incredibly cautious and so willed herself to stay motionless. She lowered her eyelids subtly – open just wide enough to peek at her surroundings – and tried to work out what the hell was going on. Her heart began to thud, a horrible feeling beginning to make itself present.
She had no idea where she was.
The panic returned as she struggled to collect her haphazard thoughts. She was Persephone. She was twenty years old. She lived in San Francisco. She was a waitress.
Yes, that was it. She’d been on her way to work. The information provided no answers, but it was still comforting. Jesse had been driving – he was always willing to do favours for her. The young man bored Persephone to tears but she fed him just enough conversation to keep him sweet without giving him any ideas. She wondered why he’d taken her here – wherever here was – and whether he’d left her here alone.
She shifted her head slightly, looking for the source of the sheet rustling. Whatever this place was, it had a clinical, impersonal vibe. Perhaps Jesse’s inane wittering had finally driven her mad and this was a mental institution. The thought simultaneously amused and concerned her. After all, it could be true.
There was an array of equipment. Some beds. People in the beds, donning the same shapeless hospital gown that Persephone realised she herself was clothed in.
She searched her memory again. A fruitless search that served only to panic Persephone further. The mental picture of sitting in the back of Jesse’s truck was all she had in terms of what she could only assume was a recent memory. She’d been looking down at her boots, scrutinising scuff marks. What the hell had happened?
Maybe, just maybe, somebody within these four walls could give her an idea. She chastised herself briefly for panicking before gently propping herself up on her elbows to survey her roommates.
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