praesidium | Ψ 006 text

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Ψ 006 text

[Deathtolling, Alana posts to the network using text which is unusual for her. She most decidedly doesn't really want to talk about it or much to other people.]

Apologies to my current and potential clients, but I will be unable to see anyone at this time. For my current clients, I will notify you when we can resume sessions. For potential clients, let me know that you're interested and I will schedule you as soon as possible when I'm able. - Dr. Bloom

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Alana?

What's wrong? You're acting a bit weird, love.

rough port, wasn't it?

I already made a batch of soup for Bruce, could you fancy some?

Do you need anything?

I'll be fine, Mason. I just need a little time to recover from port.

[Alana almost declines the offer as for all of her current aches and pains, she's not all that hungry. But she thinks about it for a few seconds longer and decides soup might not hurt.]

I'd appreciate that.

Just rest, I think.

[She will be fine. Alana believes she will be because she needs to be. Her body will heal and she has to believe she can put whatever mental trauma there behind her.]

How are you holding up?

[Rather than keep yakking on the network, Iris simply makes up a tray - a thermal bowl to keep the soup hot, a plate of thinsliced bread and butter (Riddick's baking), a bowl of fresh strawberries and a miniature yellow iris in a ...well, okay it's a specimen bottle from the laboratory, who's counting.

She's knocking at Alana's door a few minutes later.]

Cooeee! Only me. This batch isn't too 'eavy on the chillies, and I left the whisky out on account of Bruce doesn't drink, but I brought some extra.

[Positive thinking has helped him dive headlong through shitty situations; he certainly won't knock it.]

I'm okay. I have more inhalers now than I've ever had in my entire life.

[He was not particularly attentive during the port, at least, not to anyone who did not cross his path. He doesn't feel guilty for not pressing her, but there is a certain macabre curiosity.]

Are you in the infirmary?

Oh, yeah. How was it, then? Had fun with the mushrooms?

More along the line of the opposite of fun and no mushrooms involved that I'm aware of.

[Alana answers the door shortly after Iris has knocked, opening it wide enough for her to come inside and motioning for her to step inside.]

I really appreciate this, Iris.

[Alana hadn't even considered Scott's asthma being an issue until he brings up the inhalers just now. She recognizes it's retrospective worry - both unnecessary and not all that helpful - that she feels in response to.]

That's not a bad thing. You should probably see if your friends are willing to carry at least one for you just in case.

[She shouldn't be surprised that he's contacted her. Especially after this. She keeps any potentially scathing remarks to herself.]

No, but I'm not really up to entertaining guests right now.

Your loss, love.

Here, but I snuck a little bit of them back with me, if you'd like a quick nibble.

I'm making gift bags for everyone. Do you want one?

[She's a friend, after all.]

I mean no pressure, I'M gonna carry one too.

Of course. I would not impose.

[And it's true, he isn't one to force his company on anyone that doesn't want it. Usually because he doesn't have a high opinion of those who don't want it, but she is one of those rare few cases.]

Should no one else be available to fetch food or comfort, however, please call on me.

[He doubts she will. That doesn't mean he won't offer.]

I'd rather not mix hallucinogenics with a deathtoll.

Sure. I'd be happy to hold onto one for you.

I appreciate it.

[Which is a lie, but a polite one. From the looks of Hannibal's rulebook, lying is acceptable if it is polite. But maybe that is a double-standard. Either way, she doesn't think her response necessarily matters in the slightest to him. If he wants to force it, he will. If he wants to leave her alone, he will. Hannibal does nothing under the permission of others. Not when he can coerce or coax it as he sees fit.]

[Alana thinks and wonders vaguely if he's bothered at all by the fact that she died. It's not a question she's going to ask, however. The answer will either be a carefully constructed lie or the truth, but either way be difficult to decipher any real meaning out of it. The last thing she feels like doing right now is trying to parse through Hannibal's words. The assumption is there that he would only be irritated that he was not the one to do it, but she pushes it aside. Those aren't thoughts she wants to be intimate with.]

I take it you were fine during port.

[Not a slight against him. A careful asking after his well-being.]

What's a deathtoll?

It's the part that comes after you die here.

So...wait. Are you an inmate now?

No. I was killed while we were in port.

You're dead? You can't be dead. I'm dead. What's going to happen now that you're dead?

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