Heather Mason (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sweetmotherofgod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2014-07-17 05:41 pm
sweetmotherofgod) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-07-17 05:41 pm
Entry tags:
I don't want to sail tonight
CHARACTERS: Heather Mason, Erik Lehnsherr, Murphy Pendleton, and anybody else who wants in
LOCATION: various
WARNINGS: language, emotional turmoil, probably ableist language regarding her prosthetic leg
SUMMARY: Heather tries to make good and subsequently makes very bad
NOTES: I'm throwing in starters for pre-planned threads here but if anyone else wants interactions with Heather feel free. I'm easy with prose or brackets, use your preference and I'll follow suit
There's a thing people say about sufficiently advanced technology seeming like magic. The prosthetic leg is advanced - more advanced than anything she'd seen back home, total science fiction. It's sleek and silver-grey, lit up blue in places to match the decor. It generates its own power as she moves, cools itself, hooks up to her nerves so she can feel it just like her natural leg. It's amazing.
What it isn't is fucking magic.
She'd been without it so long that the more she dealt with how wrong things went with only one leg the more having two seemed like the solution to every problem. A silver bullet for every issue stalking her; mobility issues, lack of independence. People treating her differently. Losing interest, or (maybe worse) finding pity. As it turns out the prosthetic solves exactly one of those issues, and even then the mobility is hit-and-miss as the leg intermittently loses sensation for reasons unknown to medbay (doctors, who needs the fuckers) and has her limping or stumbling when it cuts out.
For the first time the relative emptiness of her floor seems like a blessing rather than something ominous, peace and isolation when she'd rather not have anyone looking at her. These days the only time she has to be out and about is in the gardens, either working (and she's determined to work twice as hard, to prove she's not dead weight anymore despite the long-needed new blood) or walking Hoi Hoi (which more honestly consists of sitting and reading while the panda rolls around in the grass or gnaws on bamboo).
She's not exactly coping. But she's trying.
LOCATION: various
WARNINGS: language, emotional turmoil, probably ableist language regarding her prosthetic leg
SUMMARY: Heather tries to make good and subsequently makes very bad
NOTES: I'm throwing in starters for pre-planned threads here but if anyone else wants interactions with Heather feel free. I'm easy with prose or brackets, use your preference and I'll follow suit
There's a thing people say about sufficiently advanced technology seeming like magic. The prosthetic leg is advanced - more advanced than anything she'd seen back home, total science fiction. It's sleek and silver-grey, lit up blue in places to match the decor. It generates its own power as she moves, cools itself, hooks up to her nerves so she can feel it just like her natural leg. It's amazing.
What it isn't is fucking magic.
She'd been without it so long that the more she dealt with how wrong things went with only one leg the more having two seemed like the solution to every problem. A silver bullet for every issue stalking her; mobility issues, lack of independence. People treating her differently. Losing interest, or (maybe worse) finding pity. As it turns out the prosthetic solves exactly one of those issues, and even then the mobility is hit-and-miss as the leg intermittently loses sensation for reasons unknown to medbay (doctors, who needs the fuckers) and has her limping or stumbling when it cuts out.
For the first time the relative emptiness of her floor seems like a blessing rather than something ominous, peace and isolation when she'd rather not have anyone looking at her. These days the only time she has to be out and about is in the gardens, either working (and she's determined to work twice as hard, to prove she's not dead weight anymore despite the long-needed new blood) or walking Hoi Hoi (which more honestly consists of sitting and reading while the panda rolls around in the grass or gnaws on bamboo).
She's not exactly coping. But she's trying.