11.24.3013: Out in the Open
Summary: Klaudea reveals the truth to Lady Cyrielle, and the discuss Klaudea's predicament. Lincoln stops by to see what Klaudea would like smuggled in.
Date: 14 October, 2013
Related: Sort of related… add later
Cyrielle Klaudea Lincoln 


Infirmary Volkan, The Crescent
The Infirmary of the Volkan Barracks is bright, clean, and sterile; the complete antithesis of the world above. There is a general care ward, with moveable beds in small alcoves, only granted privacy by curtains on cuved metal rods. Equipment sits in each unit for emergency treatment, and some long care treatment.
There is a surgical unit down the western hall, with three bays, for handling urgent care of soldiers severely wounded. A recovery area is at the end of the hall. Down the eastern hallway are several doors, each leading to one of a dozen long-term care rooms. Every room is furnished with two beds and a few chairs, a bathroom, nightstands, and connections for specific equipment depending on the needs of the patient.
24 November, 3013

Up until this point, Cyrielle Hollolas has done a fairly good job of avoiding the cameras and attention of gossip reporters and tabloid photographers. In part, likely due to Nitrim's own skill in avoiding them. The young woman is not entirely pleased about the questions that come her way as she travels from Blackspyre to Infirmary. Certainly she could remain in her guest rooms or attend to other things, letting someone alert her once Nitrim is able to take visitors, but she hasn't had the mind for it. She'd rather be closer by.

Once again refusing to answer anything, she passes through into the infirmary proper, where guards keep the media out. It's likely a pervasive, constant thing: there's three members of their paramount in there recovering. Including the heir. Such a thing is no small matter. With a sigh, Cyrielle gives a small nod to those she knows and starts a slow walk past the general care ward towards the long-term rooms. She looks tired; bags under her eyes and while she's not using her cane, her limp is fairly obvious.

Another recovering on those rooms is the Knight Lieutenant Thalo, and his squire has been to report to him. Although she wasn't among those brought from Obsidia, she is bearing an injury of her own, her right arm in a sling that holds up the cast molded about her hand. She walks out of the hallway from the rooms, and then energy that had sustained her gives out as she collapses onto one of the benches in the hallway provided for people who are waiting to hear about their loved ones. She leans her head back against the wall, taking deep breaths to try and forestall tears that are forming in her eyes.
Using the woman walking down the hall as a focus to take her mind away from her troubles, Klaudea at first only registers another person there to visit the injured. But then, as she manages to find control of her emotions, she straightens, her gaze becoming sharper as she watches. Then, with a glance around, she pushes to her feet and approaches the woman.
"Mistress Storm," she says quietly, having never been able to use 'just Storm' with a person she had guessed was a noble, "you should rest. You would worry Brother Shadow if he saw you in this condition."

The words and the name — given only to two people — bring Cyrielle pause. She looks over to Klaudea and blinks a few times. There's a slight change in her bearing and posture; as if she's gearing up to deny everything. The nobility is visible in that moment; the squared shoulders, the defiant set to jaw. It doesn't last long (too weary to hold it up) and Cyrielle ultimately sinks onto the bench next to Klaudea. "I suppose it's all out of the bag now, as it were?"

Klaudea shakes her head as she sits again. "No. Not all out of the bag. Although I am as sunk as if it were." She looks across the hallway, studying the rivets in the wall joints minutely. "Sir Thalo has forbidden me to go out masked again. I happened to be on the way back home when I came upon the ambush at about the same time the patrol did. He has an idea that I'm going out as some sort of masked crusader, dealing out justice to people who are preying on the poor." She pauses, biting her lip with worry. "But, since he mentioned all the reasons that he knew I was the girl in blue in front of Lady Reena, I am sure that it will not be long before she shares that knowledge with her brother. Since we know he would share it with you."

"Do you believe she would?" Cyrielle's brow furrows somewhat as she takes it all in. Even the AMP has not been helping much as of late. There are some things that simply need sleep… which has not come for the young woman. "And- well, much as I'd like to assure you that your trust in him is not misplaced, there are few secrets between us. I am sorry for that, as it affects you now."

Klaudea shrugs. "It does not upset me that he would have told you," she assures. "And I can hardly expect a sister to keep a secret from her brother like that. I did ask him to talk to her on my behalf in the first place, so…" another shrug. "That doesn't worry as much as the fact that I can't even get a message to Bertram that I won't be able to visit for… who knows how long." The tears gather in her eyes, again but she stubbornly keeps them from falling. "I should have stayed away, because now everything is blown away. But if I hadn't helped, they could have been hurt worse. And Sir Thalo is saying that I messed things up, and because of me he made decisions that cost a factory that manufactures valuable supplies that armies need to protect Haven."

Something that Cyrielle has become good at is listening. Spending long days on the hunt can give one, if not patience, the ability to remain quiet and observe the world around you. She's uncertain at first, but after a moment does reach out to place her arms around Klaudea. If the woman allows it, of course. "You did what you thought was best. You thought of the people there, in the moment- not the possible production times and what may happen down the road. I likely would have done the same." She cannot say for sure, but it's quite likely she would have. "Who is Bertram? Can I pass a message along for you?"

There's a wince, and Cyrielle will notice that the left arm closest to her seems a little heavy and clumsy, but Klaudea lays her head on Cyrielle's shoulder. "Bertram is in charge of the infirmary. He wasn't there the night we did the tour, but you met his son." She gives a shake of her head. "I just don't understand. If I wasn't there, and only that school kid was there, the whole place would have blown up and taken them with it. Unless he means that he wouldn't have sent the kid in if he knew it was me."

It's not quite hugging, but Cyrielle does hold Klaudea close. They still don't know one another well, but this is the sort of situation that can bring people together. Perhaps the Hollolas needs some level of comfort as well. She's been a spectre, haunting the infirmary as she waits every piece of word on Nitrim she can. "I'll go there and speak with him," she promises. It won't be difficult or out of place- she's been helping with the Notice Project as she may. "Something I'm learning," she murmurs, "is that reflecting on what may have happened just leads to feeling worse." A pause and she smiles, even if it's weak. "Doesn't stop us from doing it and it's not easy, but… don't be so hard on yourself. You did what you thought was best and you didn't run from danger. That's a good thing."

A deep breath that holds some sniffle comes from Klaudea as she works to compose herself. "Tell that to Sir Thalo," she grumbles. "I think Brother Shadow is doing well," she adds. "They might not be letting you in because you're not family or something stupid. If you want to walk back with me, I'm a patient, and I can say you're my visitor, if you like. Maybe Lady Reena can get us the rest of the way to Lord Nitrim for you." She straightens and gives the woman a half smile, trying to convey an on-the-mend attitude.

"I don't know Sir Thalo, but I'm sure he'll come around. Events like these have a way of… narrowing peoples' vision for a while." Cyrielle is one to talk- she's been laser-focused on getting to see Nitrim. "That's precisely it. I'm not family and he needs to rest." And she can't inform them that he likely needs her. That'd go beyond propriety. When Klaudea straightens, Cyrielle sits back and returns her hands to her lap. "I would not wish to impose on Lady Reena. She is recovering as well, is she not?"

Klaudea nods. "He does need to rest, and she is recovering, and, I think, going stir crazy. It seems that she's mostly all right, except for the wound in her neck which makes it so she can't talk." She gives a little grin. "She might wish to be imposed upon. Even if Lord Nitrim is resting, she might like someone to talk to about… anything." Her left hand hangs down in her lap, she looks at it, a frown of concentration as she wiggles the fingers, ending up with little twitches.

"I don't know Lady Reena," Cyrielle explains, looking a bit pained. Like there's something more there, but she can't quite explain it. "If you would like company to visit her, however, I will certainly go along. I'm sure the medical staff would be happy to see me doing something other than pacing the halls."

Tilting her head sideways, Klaudea looks curiously at the lady sitting on the bench next to her. "You aren't acquainted with the Lady Reena?" She gives a little smile. "I suppose I'm not really acquainted with her, either. But we have met a couple of times, she asked me to call her Thalia, then." She considers. "Well, from what I saw in Obsidia, meeting her is something you should probably do…" there's a little light of mischief in her eyes.

"We met in passing at the rave," Cyrielle says with a slight furrow of brow. "I've attempted to secure a time in which to socialize with her, but I suppose she's simply too busy." The woman gives a small shrug, but looks side-long at Klaudea with eyes that have gone a bit dark. "I ought to, yes. What you know, much like what I now know of you, is priviledged information." There's a warning there, but it's not a threat. More of a plea.

There's shuffle of feet as Lincoln steps up, he's purposefully making noise she the two can hear him before he arrives. He's dressed nice, but not overly so for a citizen. Pants that are just the right amount of tight and a tunic that's loose and comfortable. He has several silver rings on his fingers and corded necklaces with pendants around his neck. His bangs are falling into his eyes, making him look young. "Afternoon. You up for a visitor?" He'll glance to Cyri and smile, but doesn't address her till he know if it's ok for him to join.

Klaudea glances up as she hears the foot steps approaching. Her right hand now has a more official looking cast on it, rather than the makeshift splint he saw last, and a nicer sling to hold it up close to her chest. She gives a nod to Cyrielle, and then a smile to Lincoln, and stands up… maybe a little slowly, but she stands and half lifts her left arm to offer a half hug. "Hey, Lincoln," she turns so they can face the other occupant of the bench and she says, "this is Lady Cyrielle Hollolas if I'm not mistaken. Lady Cyrielle, this is my friend, Lincoln Dunne."

"You are not mistaken," Cyrielle says easily, rising to her feet as well. Not necessary for a noble, but she had no desire to be the only one left seated. "A pleasure to meet you, Master Lincoln. I believe I saw you briefly at the rave? Though my memory can be… muddled of that night." They may have even passed one another during an escape to find a quiet place to dose up on something.

Lincoln takes the half hug from Klaudea, "Glad to see you standing on your own." He'll turn, and bow to Cyri, after taking a moment to calculate her house and how deeply he should bow. "My lady, it's a pleasure." He'll tilt his head, the rave's a bit blurry… "I was at the Rave, but was working, so I'm afraid I don't recall seeing you there. I hope you had an enjoyable night?" Turning back to Klaudea, "So…what's the damage looking like? Any word on how your hand will heal?" He's smiling, but there's an underlying worry. He knows it's important.

The Rave is not something Klaudea attended, and does not have anything to share, so she lets the two of them discuss their parts in the affair. She gives a nod to Lincoln about standing on her own. "My hand is going to be all right. I have to let it heal properly and do some physical therapy and it will be all fine." She bites her lip, and her eyes take on a warmer, if somehow guilty cast. "Thank you."

"I did have a good time, yes. And don't mind not remembering me- I was uncertain of your part in things. I hoped I was right and Six save me, I was." Cyrielle affects a bit of a smile; it's a polite thing, but genuine. As if she has to remember to smile in social situations. There's a look back to Klaudea as she explains her recovery time. In the process, dark eyes slide past to gaze further down the hall. To the room she knows Nitrim is in, but hasn't been given access to yet. Damn protocols.

Lincoln nods, beyond saying he was working, he doesn't give details. He'll give Klaudea a genuine smile, "That's crackerjack, Klaudea!" He sounds relieved, "Physical therapy is nothin'. You got that." He'll shrug away the thank you, "It was nothing. Don't worry about it." Linc does notice the glance that Cyri does, but won't say anything. Not his place. Looking back to the squire, "I was going to smuggle you in something, but wasn't sure what you'd want. Magazine? Movie ? Cheeseburger?"

Klaudea doesn't notice the glance, or at least appears not to. She hasn't missed the reference to working, but she doesn't say anything about it. Lincoln's relief is infectious, and she gives him a smile in return. "It is good news. I think Sergei made it out worse to scare me into coming to hospital," the look on her face tries to spell out bad news for her friend's trickery, but it lacks complete conviction. His offer is met with a laugh. "All of the above?" she requests, but then she shakes her head. "I've finally stopped throwing up, and I'd like to keep it that way, so no cheeseburgers for me, right now. Maybe Lady Cyrielle would like one, though. I'm not sure she's eaten in a long time."

Crackerjack? Cyrielle sounds out the word silently, lips moving to shape it. It's not an exclamation she's ever heard before and it seems to bemuse her to some extent. The woman's attention returns to the two of them as her name is mentioned. She gives a small shake of her head, lifting a hand, "I've eaten. I'm afraid like many women, one of the things I am quite capable of is trying to drown worry with food. But thank you for the consideration." These words appear to include Lincoln, even though he hadn't directly made the offer.

Lincoln nods, arm around Klaudea as he tries to maneuver her to sit down, "Ok…Something to read…a movie or two.." He'll glance to Cyri, "Are you sure, my lady? It's not a problem. Klaudea's gonna change her mind and make me go get her chocolate anyway…" He's grinning, not sure if that's true, but he will if she wants. he'll look down at Klaudea, "Well, I'm glad he did scared you. Serves you right, You scared the hell outta me."

At first Klaudea looks at Lincoln when he puts an arm around her, it takes her a moment to realize he's trying to get her to sit down again. She balks, but only for a moment, and lets him settle her on the bench again. "Really? You can eat when you're worried about something? Not me, nothing puts me off my food like being worrried. No horror movies, please," she requests. Then after a moment she adds, "and nothing too funny. Laughing still hurts." That guilty look comes back over her face and she ducks. "I really am sorry," she tells him. "I won't do it again."

"I'm sure, but thank you." Cyrielle's shoulders move in a small shrug at Klaudea's words. "It's distraction. A mechanical motion that leaves the body at least feeling appeased. Or so it does for me. But I also think us sea-born have stomachs of steel." Never heard of a Hollolas that gets seasick, have you? She looks over to Klaudea at the apology and frowns.

Lincoln rolls his eyes, straightening, "So…no horror, or funny..or sad…I'll no my best to not bring you back just static." He'll give the noble a small smile, "If you change your mind, Have Klaudea message me. I'm happy to bring you something back." He'll sigh at Klaudea, "I told you, don't worry about it. I meant it. I'll hurry back with stuff." He'll give them both his brightest smile, which, to be fair, is rather dazzling and heads for the door.

Klaudea can't help it. She does worry about it, but she returns his smile just the same and lifts a hand in farewell. "See you later, then," she tells Lincoln, and then settles back, slumping a little bit. "I am a bit worn out, I suppose I should head back to my room if you want to come with me?" she turns to Cyrielle, now. "Maybe later we can find a way in to see Brother Shadow, after Lady Reena has finished her tests."

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