ways_infirmary | (no subject)

(no subject)

Dr. McCoy checked her in yesterday, so Ellen's in one of the beds towards the back, Dogmeat curled up at her feet. At least somebody in this scenario currently has hair.

The personal dosimeter she's wearing would appear to indicate that it's safe to approach.

[OOC: visiting post. Have at!]

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An hour or so after Ellen checks in, she's approached by a familiar figure who saw her stumble in earlier.

"Hey."

Ellen's got Dogmeat curled up on the bed next to her- the infirmary staff can complain all they want, but this is a homicidally protective dog- and an issue of Grognak the Barbarian, from which she looks up and smiles.

"Oh, hey..."

"How're you doing?"

"Better, I think," says Ellen. "Dr. McCoy got me some more medicines. I think I was out a long while, before coming here." She indicates the dosimeter badge. "This would have gone black if I were still hot, he said."

"Ohhhgood." Alyx visibly relaxes.

"And I don't think I lost all my hair," Ellen says, indicating her scalp. "That feels like stubble. I think there was shaving. So... it might not be that bad. I mean, Colonel Autumn still had his hair when I saw him."

"If it comes to that," suggests Alyx, "you could probably get a wig or something from the Bar..."

"I'm going to wait until Dr. McCoy says it's okay first," Ellen says. "There's some rashes. I don't want to irritate the skin by wearing anything that fits too close."

There's a pause.

"I wonder what I would look like with black hair, though. Dad says our family always went gray young."

"--wait, that was natural? I figured you dyed it."

Ellen shakes her head. "It's been that color since ... oh, gosh. There was a picture of me and Dad when I was ten. We're both grey in it."

"Huh. That's... I didn't know that could happen."

"Could be a mutation in the family line," Ellen says with a shrug, and does her best not to scratch at an itch that she just felt spring up on her side. "Who knows. I don't have pictures of anyone else in the family to compare>"

Alyx nods, mutely.

For a long moment, she says nothing.

"We're leaving for South America tomorrow."

"Good luck," says Ellen. "You've got the mini-nukes, right? And the grenades?"

"Among other things, yeah," says Alyx. "Thank you."

"Good," says Ellen. "Good. I'd... loan you my rifle, but I don't know where it is."

If they had to confiscate it because of radioactivity, she understands, but she really didn't want to lose another plasma weapon.

"How are things looking for you?"

"...I don't know," Alyx admits. "I have no idea what we're going into, and I'm not sure we'll have the opportunity for a scouting run this time around..." She sighs. "I wish I didn't have to leave now, but time is a luxury we've already overused."

"Wish I could help," Ellen murmurs. "I'll pray for you. Might not be worth much, but."

"You've already done enough, Ellen. More than enough." Alyx reaches out to take her hand. "I just wish there was more I could do to help you."

Ellen squeezes the offered hand a little. "Hey," she says, "you're here, right? And you're a friend. That helps, plenty. I don't have many, back home."

Alyx squeezes back, momentarily at a loss for words.

"I'll be thinking of you, while I'm here," Ellen says. Then she adds, "I got the comic book, by the way. Thank you."

"--oh, right, I forgot I asked Santa to give you that," says Alyx. "I'm glad you like it."

"It's an issue I never read before," Ellen says, "and all the pages are still in it. That's kind of incredible."

"Don't ask me how he did it," says Alyx with a shrug. "Just accept it."

C'mon, it's Santa.