01.28.3014: Visiting Hours
Summary: Rook and Beden visit Lincoln in the hospital. Rook shares with her brother what she learned from Sarah 113 and asks for his help.
Date: 14 November 2013
Related: Peace or Annihilation
Beden Ithaca Lincoln 


Hospital Room - Ignis Hospital
See log.
28 January 3014

Lincoln finally got the nerve up to ask a nurse to dictate a quick message to Ithaca about what happened. It's been about 4 days since their talk with Klaudea, when she receives a rather well spelled out message from Linc, "Hey, don't freak. I'm ok. But I was kinda in a bar fight, and at <name of hospital> , room 215. You don't have to visit if you don't' want to, but thought you'd want to know.~Lincoln." The halo vid is playing, although the volume is almost totally off, and Linc's bed is positioned so he's sitting up slightly, the neck brace is a big, thick one, he's not moving head or neck, at all. His chest is much better, the wrap is off and it's just bruised , the edge of which is showing at the top of his gown. In the corner of the room is a breathing apparatus, complete with breathing tube. Just in case. He's pale and is eyeing a bowl of green jello on the table like it's what put him here. His tablet is on the table as well.

Rook is now four weeks pregnant. Not that it's much of a milestone, as her stomach is still flat as a pancake and morning sickness hasn't even started yet, but for her, she feels different inside. She tires more easily, but there a mingled sense of peace and concern warring inside of her. Her visit with Sarah 113 was both hopeful and deeply disturbing, and she's spent two sleepless nights working through possible ways to find out a truth that is 1961 years old.

When she received word that her brother was injured and hospitalized, she was in the midst of throwing what few belongings she has into boxes for moving once she finds a new place. Rook taps at the door frame of his hospital room lightly, dress in simple clothing of the lighter variety. This is her first trip to Ignis, she'd been hoping Luke would introduce her to the moon he calls home.

Lincoln's eyes move over to the door, a small smile on his lips. He'll raise a hand, and seems rather mobile from the chest down. In fact he looks ok, until he talks. His voice is barley audible, and it's clear it's not a sore throat. "Hey…I didn't mean you…had to come." He seems to be breathing shallow. He motions for her to come in.

Rook sidles into the room and grimaces at the look of him. She sniffs at the jello a moment then plops down into a chair which she pulls close. She sets a hand near his so he can take it if he wants to. "Hi. You look like shit. What happened?" she asks.

Lincoln's eyes have a slightly glazed look form the pain meds. He's not completely out of it, but is definitely got some in his system, "Thanks….I tried to get dressed….nurses wouldn't let me…Not sexy like As….Ring Turns…." He'll smile as his own joke, and then then his hand flop against hers. "..Bar fight….Fuckin' Ash Legion …punched me in the throat." He still can't get over that. Who does that in a bar fight?

"Ash Legion?" Rook asks, arching a brow as she cradles his hand in both of hers. "Not Luke, right?" she asks. If he put her brother in the hospital she may set him on fire. "Why on Ignis? Because of that Beden?" She looks worried for him.

"No…no…" He frowns slightly, "It wasn't….I was upset, but I had gone out…hit a few bars, just ended there. It…It happens." He has no idea if Ithaca gets the importance of bar fights or not. "Luke wasn't there….Beden was, but it wasn't….He didn't do this…" Linc's eyes dark away, like he doesn't want to make eye contact with Rook suddenly. He'll lick his lips, "How are you?" asks the man in the neck brace. A smile forms and he'll point a finger, while she holds his hand at her belly.

"I don't understand. How does this just happen?" Rook asks, her brow creased in concern. She follows his pointing finger and snorts. "Same. A few more weeks and real fun should start," she notes, making a vomiting face. "I may need your help soon. Some research. Not sure where to start, but maybe you can help." He does have noble clients, she assumes. That might be a line of inquiry and pillow talk.

Lincoln rolls his eyes, since he can't shrug, "It just…It just does. Things get said. I…" He'll force himself to take a deeper breath to be able to talk more. Seems like he's not having lung issues, more just getting he air there, "There were two patrons of the Blue Nirvana there…Couldn't just let them get punted on…" He'll smirk lightly and laugh at her vomit face. "Yeah….suck to be you." Even with the drugged tone, it's clear he's teasing her. He's trying to get the hang of being a younger brother. There's a blink, not quite understanding why she would need his help. "With what?"

"Went to see grandmother," Rook says quietly. He knows damn well that means the Hostile, Sarah 113. But they can't talk about her openly. "She told me some things that might be important. But I need to find out if they are true. Historical things. If they are, this whole," she makes a bomb gesture to indicate the war," is over lies. Lots of lies on both sides. Few people pulling everyone's strings."

It takes Linc a bit to follow Rook's conversation, "..Your grandm-oh…" He frowns, not happy with this. man, he nearly breaks his neck, and his sister is off talking to Hostiles. He's still confused, "How…What do you think I can do…I'm not really….research guy…" It took him months and months to get anything out of his mother's tablet. He'll blink thinking about something, "I think…most wars are…" the fault of lies on both sides, that is.

"Clients," Rook says quietly. "This had to have started way up the chain. Need to be able to get into databases for archival data for Waygates, Crown Council, Military records, etc. Lost Histories, secrets. Means need to get near those places, those people." She grimaces and her eyes wash over white as she asks mental permission to speak in his mind. If he allows, as it prevents eavesdropping, she sends to him. Said Cantos Waygate didn't malfunction. Transmission was refused on our side, in 1053. They sent 219,000 times. Said scouts in 1515 didn't come to check if they were ok, attacked them, tried to kill them all.

Lincoln sighs, "Rook, they don't' really talk historical stuff with me…" He'll watch her, but gives the mental ok for her to talk in his head, Well…fuck. If that's the case, then I'm not gonna get anything like that. You'll need to get access to like, historical files, or someone who's like, //the head of the hostile histories. That's not pillow talk with whores, that's pillow talk with companions. Do you know anyone who that would even be? Like, who would I target, I can't just ask every client.// He'll frown, trying to take a deep breath, his hand tightens on hers. I can do what I can, but that's a huge ocean you're asking me to cast my net into. No pun intended.

Rook's mind is comfortable inside her brother's. You may entertain people who work in the places I need to get into. Someone who works in a records department or a history archive or a data storage facility. She's far more eloquent in her thoughts than with spoken words.

I don't always know what people do for a living. It's not really etiquette to ask. If you can get me a list, with photos(People use fake names), I can try….maybe someone at the library? Linc's never spend any time there, so he doesn't know if they have stuff like that there. there's an uncomfortableness when he even thinks about the library.

We'll see what I can find out on my own first. I don't want you involved unless I have no other choice. Ok? Rook sends. She bends over to kiss his forehead before breaking the connection, her eyes returning to normal. "You should rest. When they release you, have them call. Will come get you."

Lincoln huffs, "What the hell…I'm not… I offered…I'll help…" There's a touch of annoyance, maybe not completely at her, in his breathless voice. "You're …my only family…Rook. I will help." He'll frown, although it disappears at the kiss to the forehead. "It's…only cracked vertebra…shouldn't be too long…" There's a lopsided grin, he's trying to make light of the injury.

"Heal up. Before too long you'll have a toddler to chase around," Rook murmurs with an almost serene smile, something he's never seen her have before. Seems impending motherhood has woken up something in her that was dormant a long, long time.

Lincoln 's got the bed positioned so he's sitting up some. The bowl of green jello and his tablet are on the table next to him, and the breathing machine is still in the room, in a slightly different position from last time. His sister is sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his hand and he's grinning up at her, the neck brace stoping him from really moving too much. "Yeah… I'm gonna be the best… uncle. Candy and toys…. and sending home. I'm gonna be the …favorite." He's still drugged up, the doc's haven't done too much int he way of magically fixing him. But then again, he's not a noble. Linc squeezes her hand again, his voice is still quiet and scratchy, "I am happy…it was just…a surprise…"

"Glad. It wasn't what I planned. I was off pills because I had a donor clinic visit scheduled. Wanted anonymous father. Then party and Crow and," Rook finishes with a soft sigh. "Life happens," she murmurs.

Standing at the doorway is Beden Grantham, wearing his Ash Legion uniform in his own act of defiance. He sees Lincoln and…someone else who must be close. "Doesn't look that gross to me." Beden says with a smirk, though there's a bag in his hand.

Lincoln clucks his tongue, it's one of the few noises he can make loudly without hurting his throat. "Can't …imagine." Imagine what, who knows. At the voice at the door, Linc smirks slightly, "Sister is not…gross. Rook…light him on fire…." It's an obvious joke, but he'll tighten his grip on Rook's hand, just in case she didn't get it.

Good thing Lincoln tightens that grip. Rook is pretty terrible at grokking humor a lot of the time. "Hi," she says plainly to Beden, looking at him curiously. "Rook," she says, introducing herself and waiting for a name in return.

"Rook!" Beden says with a smile. "I'm Beden…it's good to meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances…" He opens his bag. "I brought chips." Just like ice chips…right?

Lincoln 's a bit too drugged to think there'd be any prob. You know, the guy who's betrothed and was dating him just walked in. His sister should be cool with this. His hand stays on Rook,s but mostly just because he likes having contact with her, a connection. He'll narrow his eyes, "That's just…mean." He's barely able to get soft jello down without crying. Chips would kill him. He doe smile softly though, surprised the Noble showed up as fast as he did.

"Dunno who you are," Rook says to Beden, honestly. "Brother's manners suck when drugged," she explains with a faint smile. She plucks up the jello and begins eating it. Hey, it is better than what she usually eats, right?

"Oh? Sorry…" Beden tosses the chips in the bin. "Well, I'm…I really like your brother. He's crackerjack." The Grantham smirks as he sits on the opposite side of the bed and smiles.

"Better…than your's." His hand shifts on her's but doesn't let go. He'll frown at the jello again, he's hungry, but it's just…bleah. Green, who likes green jello, anyway? Probably people who punch others in the neck, that's who. Linc's eyes go over to Beden and watch him, slightly confused at the man's admittance. He's unsure of their status, but if he couldn't tell his sister, what's he doing tell Linc's?

Rook may not speak like she's very bright, but she's quite a genius. She looks from the young man to her brother. "That him? Crow's nephew?" she asks, looking back at Beden. That's likely the only person who would have been waiting to meet Linc's sister.

Sitting next to the bed, the Anvil smirks at the jello. "I could see about getting you different jello, or ask if we can fast track to soup, ya know?" And Beden had told his sister…just not in a public area. But Lincoln wouldn't know that. His hand will rest on Lincoln's arm as he gives him a warm smile. "Yes, that's me. Luke's my Uncle." Pride fills his voice as he looks to Rook.

Lincoln can't turn his head, but his eyes go from one to the other, warning bells going off at a rather slow pace. Like he should be worried, but isn't quite there. "Maybe red jello?…I hate green…" He'd love some soup, but the nurses said maybe tomorrow. this sucks. "Doc's said… it'd be a bit…" His eyes go down to Beden's hand on his arm. He's not uncomfortable with it, but seems slightly confused.

"Huh. So marrying someone, and still want my brother? Shitty of you. Had that happen to me. Wasn't fun. Nothing but living in constant hurt day to day like an ignored pet." Rook's voice is flat, and her eyes are stony. Clearly, she had a bad experience.

"Red it is man." Beden stands and smiles…until Rook makes her comments. "I…I'm not married. And I'd give your brother a fairer shake than that. Drugged and unable to eat just doesn't seem like the best time to make a clear decision on lo-life. Life." Was that actually an improvement? And Beden is out in the hallway to track down Jello.

Lincoln inhales, trying to get enough breath to stop the impending argument as soon as Rook starts in on Beden, "…Rook…." his hand tightens again, but it's him tying to get her attention this time. He'll try to turn his head and then wince as that hurts when Beden dashes away. "I'm not…I'm right here…" Everyone keeps talking like he's not right there! He definitely doesn't pick up on Beden's near slip.

Rook murmurs to Lincoln, "Nitrim promised me no one would come before me. If he married, it was for duty, not love. Then he started spending all his time romancing a noble." She shrugs. "I don't believe anything a noble says anymore." She shakes her head and rises. "Gonna go, have to get some work done. Rest, ok?" She squeezes his hand, and heads out.

Coming back in with orange jello, Beden tries to give Rook a polite goodbye as she leaves…futile as it may be. "No red…orange is better than green, right?" He smiles a bit as his eyes seem to be searching Lincoln's for something. Rook's earlier comments obviously gone unheard by the Grantham.

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