Sam Grimm (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lucyandme) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2014-08-24 10:23 pm
lucyandme) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-08-24 10:23 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
CHARACTERS: Sam and OPEN
LOCATION: Xenogen labs, hallways, kitchen, etc.
WARNINGS: Graphic details from canon, sickliness
SUMMARY: Catch-all for Sam, various open starters
NOTES: Feel free to start something, anything. I’m easy! Or pm me if you want me to set up a starter. Prose or action is fine.
Hallways:
She didn’t know how to stop. She didn’t stop. Her life had been about finishing one objective and moving on to another. School, college, work. It was what kept her sane. And sanity was something she needed after so recently being scooped up from the disaster at home and brought onto a ship with sadistic motives. So fatigue, headaches, and small breathing attacks were hardly enough to keep her from moving. She went to her lab. She went to the gym. She refused to give into a little flu.
But then the symptoms started getting worse. It made it harder to keep moving. So as she walked down the hallways, it was becoming almost habit to stop abruptly and find the closest wall to lean on as her heart beat through her chest like she was being chased by imps, as the world spun around her like the Tranquility had turned into a damn carousel. Or sometimes she had to stop moving abruptly because of a sudden muscle cramp-which seemed to focus itself on her calf, a cruel reminder every time it struck her of the vicious creature that had ripped a chunk of the flesh from that exact spot. It was a good thing the sudden paleness and shivers could be explained away as just another symptom of the space flu if someone were to inquire.
The Labs:
Sam spent most of her time in the labs, either working on a given case or studying the sample of blood she had managed to get from her brother. It gave her something to focus on, to keep her from thinking about how hot it was, or how tired she was, or how the lighting was incredibly irritating to her eyes.
But even her feverish dedication couldn’t keep her from suddenly nodding off, arms folded over files, cheek smooshed against the desk, as sound asleep (if not more so) than she would be in her own bed.
Kitchen:
Coffee. She wanted coffee. No, not the hot cup of beans and water and cream; no sugar. She wanted the damn coffee grinds, straight out of the can. It made no sense, and she ignored the craving every time she walked past a kitchen, but the scent caught her nose each time and made the crave all that more prominent.
One handful. Just one handful. So she poured herself a cup of grinds and sat down at the table. It looked like a normal cup of coffee at first glance, but it was rather obvious by the way she chews with each mouthful that something is off.
LOCATION: Xenogen labs, hallways, kitchen, etc.
WARNINGS: Graphic details from canon, sickliness
SUMMARY: Catch-all for Sam, various open starters
NOTES: Feel free to start something, anything. I’m easy! Or pm me if you want me to set up a starter. Prose or action is fine.
Hallways:
She didn’t know how to stop. She didn’t stop. Her life had been about finishing one objective and moving on to another. School, college, work. It was what kept her sane. And sanity was something she needed after so recently being scooped up from the disaster at home and brought onto a ship with sadistic motives. So fatigue, headaches, and small breathing attacks were hardly enough to keep her from moving. She went to her lab. She went to the gym. She refused to give into a little flu.
But then the symptoms started getting worse. It made it harder to keep moving. So as she walked down the hallways, it was becoming almost habit to stop abruptly and find the closest wall to lean on as her heart beat through her chest like she was being chased by imps, as the world spun around her like the Tranquility had turned into a damn carousel. Or sometimes she had to stop moving abruptly because of a sudden muscle cramp-which seemed to focus itself on her calf, a cruel reminder every time it struck her of the vicious creature that had ripped a chunk of the flesh from that exact spot. It was a good thing the sudden paleness and shivers could be explained away as just another symptom of the space flu if someone were to inquire.
The Labs:
Sam spent most of her time in the labs, either working on a given case or studying the sample of blood she had managed to get from her brother. It gave her something to focus on, to keep her from thinking about how hot it was, or how tired she was, or how the lighting was incredibly irritating to her eyes.
But even her feverish dedication couldn’t keep her from suddenly nodding off, arms folded over files, cheek smooshed against the desk, as sound asleep (if not more so) than she would be in her own bed.
Kitchen:
Coffee. She wanted coffee. No, not the hot cup of beans and water and cream; no sugar. She wanted the damn coffee grinds, straight out of the can. It made no sense, and she ignored the craving every time she walked past a kitchen, but the scent caught her nose each time and made the crave all that more prominent.
One handful. Just one handful. So she poured herself a cup of grinds and sat down at the table. It looked like a normal cup of coffee at first glance, but it was rather obvious by the way she chews with each mouthful that something is off.