ArchivedLogs:Talk Pretty

Talk Pretty
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Nom, Sera	2014-05-05 '
Location <NYC> The Mendel Clinic - Lower East Side
With its sharp crystalline edges and sleek lines knifing up into the sky, this building is one of the most /distinctive/ new additions to the neighborhood. An angular structure in glass and steel, the tall tower has a deceptively slender look to it that is belied by the heavy security as soon as you enter the doors. The front doors are frosted with the Clinic's logo -- a rising sun over a rod of Asclepius -- a motif echoed in many places throughout the building. Visitors to the clinic must first pass through a small mantrap, guarded by some of the Clinic's security guards; once they make it through the metal detector and airlock's double doors they emerge into the much more hospitable lobby. With dark wood floors underneath and comfortable black and red couches at its edges, the high windows give the room an airy feel. A bank of elevators to one side carry visitors to the many destination floors, while the wide welcome desk at the other side is manned by a security guard ready to help point visitors in the right direction. The clinic in the late afternoon is a busy time, lots of people trying to schedule their appointments around work- and school-times making it somewhat more bustly now than earlier in the day. Lucien is just stepping out of the elevator onto the fourth floor -- behavioral health, up here, as well as /pediatric/ primary care, a smaller department than the rest given the relative low incidence of mutant /children/. And yet he has one in tow, small and bouncy and clinging to his hand, a child of perhaps five or so with bowl-cut brown hair and denim jacket over brown dirt-flecked corduroy overalls, a green-and-white striped tee shirt, scuffed sneakers; save for the bright green eyes there's not a lot of family resemblance between her and Lucien. He is dressed with a good deal more elegantly than the smaller child, a very neatly tailored dove-grey suit whose jacket he has removed to fold over the arm /not/ currently escorting SmallChild. He starts towards the check-in desk, relinquishing hold on his cargo in order to sign in. Perhaps a bad move; by the time he is /done/ his little sister has rabbitted off, away from /her/ waiting room and towards Behavioral Health's waiting area just next door, where someone has a very Aussie Shepherd with them as a guide dog. Sera is, at least, respecting the working-dog harness, hands folded behind her back as she stands a short distance from the dog to peeeer at it with wide eyes; there's a bright cheerful excitement to her (slightly bouncing on her toes) that is /infectious/, not just in appearance but in a low-level wash of empathic leakage. OMGDOG. "Can I please," she is asking the waiting woman so-very-hopefully, "pet your dog?" Lucien, meanwhile, is frowning. Glancing around the pediatric waiting room with a thin press of lips and a small huff of sigh. Right. Okay. He emerges, suit jacket held against his chest and bright green eyes narrowed in search. There's a reason she doesn't approach most animals who are aware of her very closely. They tend not to like her. It has to do with that whole 'Apex-predator' thing. She'd probably feel hurt by their reactions, but truth be told, she usually IS thinking about eating them. So when she goes sliding into the clinic with a toothy grin, a bit ahead of her minder (the one with the long-suffering expression), her response is only helped by the low-level empathic linkage. "PRETTY DOG!" Which might as well be a synonym for delicious as far as she's concerned at this moment. This whole thing 'requires' her to drop down on her knees next to the child near the dog, where she joins the entreaties,"PLEEEEEASE!" She only wants to pet, and maybe smell it a little. Just a nibble. NOTHING THAT WILL HURT THE DOG... right? Just wipe that tiny bit of drool away. "Me am like dogs!" They don't pay much attention. She's supposed to be here for counseling and the like, BUT... it's really hard not to get distracted... when you have virtually no attention span. "Oh, Lani's very friendly," the woman answers in response to the requests, head turning slightly towards the child's voice. "Go ahead." The dog, meanwhile, is wagging her tail eagerly, rising at that 'go ahead' to nose forward, shoving her head in at Sera's stomach. Nom's toothy grin, though, quiets her wagging tail just a little, backing up to stand somewhat more protectively between the children and her guardian. Her head cranes forward more cautiously to sniff towards them. "/Pretty/ dog. /I/ like dogs," Sera is ruffling happily at the dog's head, scritching behind her ears and moving forward when Lani backs up to scritch /more/. "I want to get a dog but I'm not allowed." She says this with a /very/ longsuffering huff of breath. "/This/ dog's sweet she has all the colours." "Dogs require a great deal of care and responsibility." Lucien has finally tracked down his sister by the excited cooing; he leans against the doorframe just beside the entryway, out of the way of people trying to enter with his arms crossed against his chest. His quiet voice carries a quiet accent with it, syllables softly francophone-accented in distinctly Not-New-York cadence; there's a bland flatness to his recitation that suggests this is an exchange hat has occurred many times before. "You want to get a dog that I would do all the work caring for." He's not, actually, looking a Sera through this; he's watching first the dog with a faint narrowing of eyes, and then Nom. She tries not to focus on the fact that every moving thing here looks delicious. The rest looks at least... edible. "Lani am dog? Me am think dog pretty!" Many young children like to put pretty objects in their mouth. Most young children don't also have four hundred teeth. Nom still reaches out to at least TRY to pet the dog... though perhaps this is ill advised. At any rate, doesn't stop her from talking to Sera. "Me am Nom. Me am like you hair. You am do on own?" She turns her head... perhaps a bit too bonelessly, though, when she hears Lucien speaking, to look right at hi- OH PRETTY. "Me guardians am tell me no pets right now Nom. They am say, you not ready. Me am barely need ANY reminders to take medication now." She turns to inform Sera,"Me am very responsible. You am show you dad you am very responsible." She puffs up in that way that Lucien is no doubt used to seeing from young women with raging hormones who lay eyes on him. There's that same unsettlingly toothy smile, though... like her lips spread a bit too wide, like those teeth are a bit too long, too sharp. The dog is, at least, a very well-trained one; she doesn't show any signs of /biting/ though her hackles are slightly raised as she presses back against her guardian's legs, perhaps none too sanguine about all those teeth. Her ears press flat against her head with the petting. "Lani's my guide dog, yes," the woman answers with a small smile. "I think she's very pretty, too." "You talk funny," Sera tells Nom with a small giggle, turning to look up a little sheepishly at Lucien when he arrives. "I found a dog!" "I see that." Lucien's voice is slightly dry. "That is hardly polite, Sera." Sera considers this for a moment, then amends in a very-polite-tone, "You talk funny, miss." One of Lucien's hands lifts, palm pressing against his lips as his finger splay up to cover his eye. His other arm tightens just very slightly against his chest as Nom turns to look at him, the corner of his mouth giving a small twitch. "Sera, you're supposed to be in the next room." "But the dog is /here/," she explains to him, very patiently. "There are," Lucien adds mildly, "quite a few more steps involved in dog-care than in taking medication. Perhaps you could try smaller steps first. A houseplant." Nom is quick to inform Sera,"Me am talk funny because me am get bullet inna brain. Me am learning do it again." She seems very proud of herself. Even if she's blushing from embarrassment a bit. "Your daddy am talk silly too. He am pretty. Why he pretty?" Pause. She looks back at Lucien and informs him,"You am prety." ... "Sir." Right. 'Cause Sera talked that way! "Me am have plants! Me am have garden! Me am eat peacelilly. It am asking for it!" She harrumphs at this, then turns to coo at the dog. "Me am have pet rock. It am not very smart. Not even fetch." That's... that's a joke. Right? "I don't have a daddy," Sera says with a moment of puzzlement, plopping back down on her rear to rub at Lani's side. The dog is slowly starting to relax, though she sticks close to her handler, tail cautiously wagging again. "Is it a /pretty/ rock? I have a lot of rocks. I have quartz-rocks and agate-rocks and amethyst-rocks and moonstone-rocks and he --" She stops with a small frown. "What's the magnet one? I always break that one." "Hematite," Lucien answers her. "Peace lilies are toxic. Though day lilies do make a nice accent to salads. Did you really jus ask /why/ someone is pretty?" "It am very pretty rock! It taste like butt though." Yes. Nom is now expounding on the culinary qualities of rocks. "It am big bloodstone." She makes a fist and points it,"Like that big." She leans forward and SMELLS the dog... Then reaches out to try stroking it again. Because really, she's not strange enough as it is. "Peace lillies am toxic for YOU." She 'harrumphs' as if this somehow made her... better. Made be she's trying to mimic the air of arrogance? Monkey see, monkey do. "Me am not have parents too. It am overrated." She reaches in her pocket for her package of beef jerky and helps herself. It is not long between chew and swallow. As for asking why someone is pretty... "Yes." "Overrated?" Sera's expression squinches up in confusion at this statement. "Bloodstones are lucky." "Sera, come back here." Lucien gestures to his side. For a very brief moment one of his brows quirks upwards as he watches Nom. His head tips down, and he slips a phone out of his pocket to check the screen, settling back against the wall as he returns it to his pants pocket. "Traumatic brain injuries are not an easy road to recovery," he answers lightly, "perhaps mastering verb conjugation should take precedence over biology lessons. But, like the overwhelming majority of people on this planet, my looks are genetic happenstance passed down from my parents for which I can claim no credit. -- /Why/ are you smelling --" But he cuts this question off here with a faintly pained wince, as though he has just decided maybe he doesn't actually want to know. "Me am not have parents and me am fine. Overrated." Nom clams up for a moment as she strokes the dog, curling fingers carefully against the fur, oh-so-careful with those fingernails of hers. Still, when Lucien makes his statement on 'mastering verb conjugation, she makes an irritated face,"Me am understand. Words not be come in right order when me am reach for. Speak broken, not listen." A pause, and then she goes on,"It am not just genes. It am way stand, way groom, way speak. You am make distance. It am make prettier. Me am not understand WHY. It am important to you. Why am important?" She heaves a sigh, and then breaks whatever credit her moment of insight might POSSIBLY buy by then informing Lucien,"Me am smelling dog because dog am be pretty. Look pretty, maybe smell pretty?" Sera pulls herself away from the dog reluctantly, trotting back over to Lucien's side to lean up against the wall beside him. She peeks up at him before slouching back against the wall in mimicry of his posture, arms folding across her chest. "Fine. Mmm." Lucien's eyes flick over Nom, and then up to some vague point on the ceiling. "I imagine she smells like a dog." The very mild distaste in his tone suggests this smell does not rank particularly high on /his/ list of Pretty Things. Lani has relaxed, at least, flopped back down on the floor, tail thumping quietly against it during this petting. "Beauty is in large part a subjective thing, non? You are the one who decided my mannerisms were attractive. To someone else they might have no appeal. Perhaps an equally pertinent question would be why this is important to /you/." "Are they fixing your speaking here?" Sera pipes up curiously. "Are they fixing your /brain/ here?" She looks between Nom and Lucien before confiding in a hushed tone, "he fixes brains." Unfortunately, Lucien's pertinent question is doomed to have a poor answer,"Me am want be pretty. Me am like pretty." She heaves sigh, and then a moment later, concentrates, face screwing up. She relinquishes petting except for the occasional scritch. "Me am felt ugly once. Not want feel way again." Another pause,"Dog am smell like earth. Strength. Food. Health. Magnificent. Am not need smell like else. Smell like dog good when am dog." Sera gets a more direct look,"They am not fix what really wrong. Me am need learn speak right again. Me am speak for boybecomegirl. Me am get hormones. Me am get..." She fishes for the word... "... hypothalamic..." And the another... "... regulators because genes wrong and am talk about forget-everything. Best they am can do." In a quiet tone, she murmurs to Sera,"Me am wonder if you am should say that. It am sound private." "It is good to have goals, in life." Lucien's hand is lifting again, forefinger and thumb rubbing slowly at the bridge of his nose. "Best they can do," he murmurs, the corners of his eyes crinkling up slightly, "if you just dropped about ninety percent of those 'am's you'd be doing much --" He drops his hand with a quiet exhalation. "Less painfully." His head tips back against the wall, thunking there quietly. "Hypothalamic regulators. Will those stop you eating rocks and peace lilies?" Sera just fidgets, leaning slightly against Lucien's side as she tries to make sense of this explanation. "Speak for what? Hypowhat?" She shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, looking around the waiting room with a small hunch of shoulders. "... it's private /here/." She taps the side of her head, then lowers her voice slightly again. She does her best to speak conscientiously from this point,"Me am- Me in speech therapy. Me very far ahead of where before." Sometimes she needs a reminder or two. "Me learn signs too." She turns the man's question over and over in her head,"Mutation am making worse. Regulators... make Nom safe be around people. Can decide not eat things. Always hungry. Everything food. Everything." How many times has she used that phrase now? "Maybe fix one day, new medicine." She shrugs to Lucien, considering the subject a very distant thing indeed. Then she looks over at Sera, her expression unusually patient for a change,"Me am born boy. But am- are really girl. Talk about with talky doctor." She hops up, approaches... and the side of her skull opens up... or rather becomes transparent. Things push themselves around until her hypothalamus is exposed, which she then points at,"Hypothalamus. It do lots of things. Like decide when you am hungry. Mine grow wrong." As for private,"That mean you tell you private things if you want. But that his private thing. He decide when tell? Make sense? Nom not always get it right." Sera's eyes shoot open wide when Nom's head goes /see-through/ and rearranges itself; she gives a small squeak, though it sounds /excited/ as she leans in to poke a finger at the side of the girl's head. "/Woah/. Luci you can /see/ into her /head/." "... I see that." Though Lucien's voice is quiet, he has straightened, too, actually looking down with brighter /interest/ for perhaps the first time this exchange. Against the crook of his arm, his fingers flex, though he keeps his hands to himself. Just watches the re-arranging of Nom's brainmeats curiously. "It is a private thing, yes," he murmurs, though with a touch of distraction, now. "Was it your mutation that made it grow wrong or is that a separate issue?" The girl widens the 'window' of clarity a little bit and allows the girl to poke and prod at her head as she wishes,"You want see anything else? Me change not so well, only do easy things. This easy." The entire side of her head goes transparent a moment later. Which provides a disturbing look at the inside of her mouth. A lamprey would be envious of her. "Me am probably born this way. Can happen in not mutants. Makes me neverfull. Induce pica. But when everything be food, that big problem. Mutation make me never full. Defect make me always hungry. Hungry right now." She points at a chair, and then an office plant, and then the dog,"That look dellicious, that look delicious, that look delicious. Other things look delicious." Whether it's implicit or not, she deigns not to point at any people. "-- she has /so many teeth/," is all Sera cares about in this, wide-eyed and amazed. "Like shark-teeth. Chomp chomp chomp. When can /I/ get those." She's uninterested in her appointment, poking a finger now at the transparent side of Nom's cheek while chomping her own very normal-flat teeth together. She wrinkles her nose when Nom points at the dog, though. "Ewww, that's not for /eating/ that's for /petting/." Lucien's lips thin as Nom's transparency extends and /moreso/ at the explanation of All The Delicious Things; he pulls in a slow breath, muscles tensing slightly. "That sounds rather bothersome. Though I could possibly --" Though even as he starts to say this, his eyes are skipping down over the abundance of teeth visible in Nom's head, and he drops a hand to take Sera's hand in his own, straightening away from the wall with a very small frown. "I hope they get that worked out for you," he says instead. "Good luck. I should make sure Sera does not miss her /own/ appointment. I do not know if we will hear them call her from here." The girl's teeth recede into her body when they're pointed out, bizarrely enough, until a single, albeit sharp set are left... and then the transparency fades and she looks... what? Embarrassed. Nom simply tells her,"You not want teef like these..." She pauses, then reaches into one pocket pulling out... a largish bloodstone with tooth marks on it, and offers it to Sera,"Here. You am take Princess Sarah. You show him you be responsible." Then she looks up at Lucien,"Thank you for be nice. You talk to Nom like not stupid." She pulls more beef jerky free of her snack pouch, and chomps on it. Nervous eating. Takes longer when her mouth isn't full of teeth,"Me am sorry me scare you. Me hope they make you Sera all better. You nice man. She nice girl. You am deserve it." She seems pleased with herself, despite the blush still lingering in her cheeks. She managed an almost normal conversation. A little wave is given to Sera,"Take good care, Princess Sarah!" Sera's delight at the stone is bright once more, washing out in the same faint trace of empathic touch to lend a bit more /cheer/ to the room around her. "Oh wow pretty! Luci can I do magic with this? Here," she slips her hand from Lucien's to remove a black-and-white bracelet from her wrist -- moonstone and hematite stones on a stretchy elastic cord, tiny little silver stars in between the stones -- to hand it to Nom in exchange. "It's not a pet it's for helping," she offers by way of explanation as she presses the bracelet into Nom's hand. "Okay have a fun talky-doctor." She clutches the bloodstone to her chest as she returns to Lucien's side. Lucien's lips just twitch upwards at this offering. "Take care," is all he says in quiet reply, head inclining politely to Nom. He watches her just a moment longer, but then takes Sera's hand once more to lead her back off. Nom takes the little bracelet with a warm smile, and immediately slips it on, showing it off this way and that,"Thank you bright smily Sera-girl!" She certainly seems cheered up by Sera's little gift... and empathic push. "Me think it be lots helpy! Me have fun at talky doctor! You have fun you-doctor!" She helps herself to a chair and sits there, legs swinging lazily as she waves yet again. "It am pretty!" She seems preoccupied with observing the bracelet now for a wonder. "Byebye pretty man!" Okay. So maybe she watches Lucien go a liiiittle hard. But it's for totally shallow, young teenage girl reasons.