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| Scene Title | Inelegant |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Megan and Ryans have a serious talk about their place in life and then Huruma walks in and everything goes awkward. |
| Date | March 30, 2011 |
Bannerman's Castle: Dining Hall
Megan is sitting in the empty dining hall. With a cup of coffee on the table in front of her, the redhead has her forehead laying on her forearms on the table, her feet hooked around the legs of the metal chair. Her entire body radiates exhaustion. The half-empty bowl of soup next to her coffee cup speaks to an appetite that is nearly nonexistant.
A hand rubs exhausted against the stubble of Ryans jaw, as his slips into the hall. All dark gray and jeans. Sleep hasn't been as forthcoming recently, with plans to be made and dreams to be avoided. It's showing in the old man's eyes, dark circles around blue orbs. It makes him look older then the nearly forty years he looks.
Not hard to spot the red hair, drawing the eye to the nurse sitting at a table. Ben watches her, even as he gets himself a mug of coffee, not approaching until he has the caffeinated drink in hand. "Mind a bit of company?" he asks softly, giving her a faint smile. "Hello, Nurse Young."
Her head comes up as soon as she hears footsteps, pulling her coffee cup to her and the bowl of soup too. It won't do for people to think she's losing hope. She looks up at him and forces a small smile. "Megan, please. And sure, feel free to sit." She's got a good poker face, but the sheer volume of awful is clearly beginning to wear on her. Her scrubs are green today — some days they're blue, some days she's even had a purple set. But today they're standard green.
Settle into a seat across from her, wood creaking a little as he settles his tall frame on it, Ryans sets his cup on the table gently. "How you holding up?" It's a simple question, but the concern is there all the same. "How are Abby and Hannah doing? I've heard rumors…" He trails off.
"It's good to see you actually taking a break." The former assistant director adds before lifting the mug to his lips, blowing gently on the surface.
She picks up her spoon to toy with the soup. "Honestly, … I have no idea," Megan finally says. "I'm doing everything I can, but it's… basically nothing." Her jaw clenches and she sets the spoon down in favor of her cup. She doesn't look at him, unwilling to let him see the tears.
Woman… either they are highly emotional, or they try to hide it. Ryans lets out a heavy sigh and reaches across the table to touch her arm, finger tips warm where the gripped the mug. "I don't doubt that you are doing everything in your power and you will til there is nothing more you can. Makes for a fine nurse." A smile tugs up one corner of his mouth, "Even if you have to be a Nurse Ratchet to the worst of us."
Megan grins and flickers a look up at him. "Well, if you were a better patient I wouldn't have to tie you to the bed," the redhead attempts to quip. "Bondage isn't my kink." She reaches over with her hand to put it atop the one he put on her arm. "Thanks, Ben." There's a sigh and she looks around. "Ever feel like you've outlived the world you wanted to live in?" she asks softly.
"Mine either." Ryans offers with a soft deep chuckle. "But, I wasn't born with the patience for laying down on the job." Fingers squeeze lightly before drawing away, as he adds, "And your welcome."
Her question has him turning thoughtful, fingers slowly turn the mug on the table. "Hmm." It's a good one. "I think," he looks up at her, "I think I've outlived my life in general, but yes… it does have that feel. I've lived through war, I've lived through more peaceful times… now we're slowly heading back into a war." Benjamin might as well call it as he sees it.
"Hopefully, we're ready to change with the world… cause there is no doubt that the lives we knew," Ryans looks around them shaking his head, "we'll never get those back. I'll never see again the house I bought with my wife. Or the garden I would be toiling in about now." He sighs softly through his nose, "So yeah… I do feel like I've outlived my life. Many times over really."
Megan nods slowly. "The people here are all I really have left. Oh, sure… I could walk out." She looks around at the castle. "I'm non-evo, and so far as I know I'm not even suspected. But I walked off my job one nihgt and never went back. For all anyone really knows, I'm dead. I … I haven't even called my brothers to let them know I'm okay." She sighs heavily. "And the people I was closest to here? They're all gone now too."
His expression is understanding, head moving ever so slightly in a nod. "I haven't talked to my own parents since the night the Company fell. No doubt the government has already told them their son is a fugitive and took their granddaughters with him." Lips press into a fine line, probably imagine the things they might say about that.
"You and I… we don't have to be here. Not like them." But? "I wouldn't have it any other way." Taking a sip of his coffee, Ben's expression seems almost distant. "I fought for my country. For freedom. The government we're against isn't the same one from only a few years back." There is a pained expression on the old mans features, breaking through that ever present mask.
"It's hard… to have to wage an internal struggle for the freedom I spent years in the trenches in other countries protecting." Benjamin shakes his head focusing on Megan. "We shouldn't have to do this. This isn't what the country was built on."
"No… no it wasn't," Megan agrees quietly. "I did my 20 years partially in the Reserves. I thought I'd seen the worst." She huffs out a breath of annoyance. "Boy, was I fucking deluding myself or what?" Sipping from her coffee cup, the redhead simply shakes her head. "Anyway… how're things on your end?" she asks.
"Busy." Is Ryans clipped answer. It's the truth really. "Unwanted dreams aside, we might be able to get back Harkness and one other, so that's been in the works." Again a hand rubs over tired features. "Intel says they are being moves to a new holding facility. So we're going to be hitting soon." He focuses on her. "I don't know if you want to allow others to watch over the sick for a time, but we could use the extra bodies — ones that know to hit a target with a gun — if you're willing."
Megan's eyes sharpen on him instantly at Harkness's name — the man is probably the one she considered her closest friend in the Ferry. The kids who used to guard the Hangar always laughed… maybe had a betting pool on if the old farts would ever just hook up and get it over with. "I'm willing," Megan says instantly. "He'll kick our asses for it, but yes. I'm willing. When? Where do you want me?"
"Harkness is Raith's half of this operation… and it's possibly Miller field." Ben gives her a mater of fact look. "I suggest looking for him. He'll probably interested in some of what you know about the place." He studies the woman for a long moment and gives a firm nod. "He'll be able to tell you more.
"And you're right. He probably will, but honestly. It's a risk we're all willing to take. He can grouse all he wants doesn't have a say in it." Ryans gives her a brief smile.
Megan's nod is immediate. She knows exactly where she'll be going as soon as she's done here. And she shoots him a grin. "You know what? He can bitch at me til he's blue in the face and I'll laugh at him… because if he's bitching at me — again — it means he's standing there." She shrugs a little, hope sparking in her blue eyes for the first time in weeks. Something other than the horribleness of the infirmary and all the death there. "I need to arrange coverage for the infirmary," she says quietly.
"I wish Delia hadn't gone off, she would have been perfect to cover your shift." Bejamin's voice falls into those flat and neutral tones. "But… she's where she might get her life back." He seems almost skeptical, still hurt from what his daughter seems to have done.
"I have no doubt, someone will be willing to take up an extra shift." Ryans assures her.
When Huruma wants to see someone, she'll either let them come to her, or she'll act as if stumbling upon them wasn't wholly her choice. In this case, it is likely the latter. She usually has her field up around her, so that she can pick and choose who she 'bumps into'. When her tall figure blots out a chunk of the empty doorway, it seems to also start away at the same time, only to hover the few inches back before her legs carry her inside the dining hall.
Or maybe she did have that field down to the air near her; Huruma's expression is one of mild affront, when she forces herself to step inside. As if being surprised was offensive, even. Her arms cross preemptively, the flannel sleeves pulled up past her elbows as she fixes the two of them with a mixed glare. The woman isn't sure if she should be embarassed or angry, so perturbed seems to fit that awkward spot in between.
Megan just nods. There are enough volunteers to help out. And they are doing minimal good anyway. The redhead picks up her coffee and sips from it. "Any other bombshells you wanna drop?"
"Not sure what you have or haven't heard," stated truthfully, "Seems like every time I turn around…" Speaking of turning around, there is an itch at the center of Ryans' shoulders that has him glancing towards the door way.
Immediately, Ben's features close down, back into that neutral expression. She's not the only one surprised. Then… strangely feeling awkward to have there there. "Huruma," he offers in greeting, trying not to look… uncomfortable. Especially, since she's glaring.
The glaring stops after a moment, probably due to her realizing that he is feeling that awkwardness as much as she suddenly is. In any case- it disappears, replaced by a somber look as she picks up her feet- which honestly, feel like they are made of lead- to cross the distance between her and where he and Megan sit. She was as much a part of that too, right? It could have been some sort of phantom, but somehow Huruma guesses not.
"Megan. Benjamin." Her greeting for them is short of a croak, because the closer she gets, the less certain she appears. If Ryans thought he was uncomfortable, she's the one that was being mourned while technically not even dead. Huruma swallows once before steeling and sitting down quite rigidly near him, still almost a couple feet away, but close enough to be tentatively joining them.
Something crosses Megan's face at the sight of them together. It brings back horrible memories of a dream that … she doesn't want to remember. She doesnt' want to know. Blue eyes drop to her coffee and unease rolls off her. It's not as if she can stop it. "Huruma," she greets cordially.
Awkwardness and uncertainty all around. What a group they make. It doesn't take an empath to feel the tension the dark woman's appearance brought with her, it writes itself in the tightening of his shoulders.
Benjamin seems at a total loss as to what to says to Huruma, as much like Megan, he's remembering the dream and all the 'emotions' that came with it. Especially those last that were not even his. It's brought a new and odd perspective of their friendship.
After a few moments of internal debate, he says, "It's good to see you. You're looking…" Ah "… well."
Megan slants a look at the two of them, and as is usual for her she's forthright. "So… the way we're all acting, should I assume that we all had one of those freaky dreams that Kaylee's been asking about?"
"I've been avoiding you." Huruma states, almost with an unnatural blandness to it. It's for both of them, it seems. But she does turn her face to Ben just a second after, unsure even as Megan slips in a few words. It was just what she needed, actually- someone else to get the ball on track. Sure as sugar Ryans didn't do it, so they could have been sitting there a while.
"Yes." Huruma answers the redhead, voice sounding slightly harassed for the short reply. The dark woman breathes inward, trying her best to hold it there so that she can not appear so disturbed. The quiet sets in again- a more calm, collected, and familiar sort, instead of silent tension that eeks off of her and onto the others.
"At least, I suspect that is what it was."
Guilty as charged, Ryans glance at Megan — for the moment avoiding Huruma's own gaze, eyes firmly focused on his coffee — head giving a slight nod. He did indeed.
It's the amazon's admission that she's been avoiding him, that finally forces him to look at her. He seems wholly unsurprised, feels even less so. Chances are he's been avoiding her as well. "I'd say yes. Especially, if Lucille had an engagement ring on in your own." He blatantly goes around the huge damn elephant that's sitting right there in the room.
Megan sighs quietly. "Right… and a young doctor named Greer. And Hooms in a fucking hospital bed." She reaches back to rub the back of her neck. "Christ."
Thank you for that, Megan. Huruma's look is secretly grateful. "Obviously I'm not sick." So there's really only one marker needed to go by, and it isn't Lucille's engagement. Though she is sure Ryans is curious about that to a lesser degree. "And if this is some sort of- cognition-" Everyone is thinking it. "-then I won'be. I refuse t'allow m'friends t'watch me die." Her jaw clenches, cheekbones cutting her features into fierceness, centered more on the memory of the dream than either of them.
"Benjamin-" Huruma turns to him, sharply enough that she bumps her ribs and elbow into the table. Oof. That takes a lot of the gravitas out of what she says next- "If I am ever terminal, somebody will'ave t'put me out of m'misery."
Ryans seems taken back by the sudden demand of Huruma. That mix of emotions, he had finally calmed down since the dream, slowly coming back to the surface. He just doesn't know what to think. It bothers him. There is a flash of irritation towards whoever was throwing those dreams their way. It feels almost like they've been pushed in a direction neither is ready for.
He's faced dangerous evolved and jumped from a dam for godsake. Been to space in a stolen shuttle even. Faced with this, Ryans flight reflexes suddenly take hold and he's rising from his seat. "I have work to do. If you ladies will excuse me."
He's not letting them talk him into staying, the coffee mug is left on the table in his wake.
The man's path takes him by a certain blonde, barely missing her and which has her following his progression out the door with furrowed brows. Kaylee Thatcher glances at the table with Megan and Huruma at it. After a moment, she closes the distance.
"Y'all are projecting loudly… what's up? You look as if someone died."