3823/Sleeping Beauty

Sleeping Beauty
Date of Scene:	07 February 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Rainmaker, Nixe

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Rainmaker has posed:
    The hospital is a quieter place at night, at least in this ward. There are no emergencies here, as most are safely past their procedures and just waiting to go home after a little rest. This room, however, is set apart, as it's for more long term stays. There are two beds, but only one is occupied. A large window lets in faint moonlight from beyond, the drapes open at the moment. The room is quiet, save for the faint chirps of monitoring machines and the soft sound of air moving in and out of the mask the woman on the bed wears. Her long hair has been gathered up and slid to the side of the pillow so she isn't lying on it, and a monitor is attached to her finger as she breathes in and out, clean sheets and a soft baby blue blanket pulled over her still form.

    She's been here for days. No one knows exactly what's wrong with her, only that she was brought into the emergency room, then the girl who did so disappeared during the chaos of doctors dealing with her. Now she's ended up here, with no contacts to call. No name.

    Her sheet reads : "Jane Doe."

Nixe has posed:
    A lot of small things go into simple trespassing and thieving: finding floor plans, finding room lists, learning nurse rotations and round schedules taking blood samples and checking vitals - and of course the the even more basic and even more vital link of connecting a small news report and a no-name patient with the missing roommate from her suite.

    If Sarah were conscious she might choose to contemplate how her waifish flautist put everything together in only a few days. A tall pile of empty snack wrappers in the parking lot across the street is one clue, and not sleeping helps too.

    Slithering up the building's stone facade and curling itself around the windowsill, a black, inky liquid conceals into a colorless, featureless hand and takes a firm grasp of the ledge as more of the amorphous darkness flows in behind it. Spilling over the edge and onto the floor, it rolls away with the gleeful joy of no longer fighting gravity and begins to pool beneath the nameless Amerindian's bed. A small glint of gold catches the light before it's swallowed by the tide.

    Growing, gathering, and drawing together, the trickle from the window stops as a shape begins to emerge under the mechanized bed - pitch black in the darkened room, immaculately featureless, and just formed enough to be recognizably human and female.

    Amber slitted cat-eyes snap open as the ninja strains her ears and glances down at the dimly lit display of a cheap Casio watch as it flows to its place on her wrist.

Rainmaker has posed:
    There's no alarm...no sign that the other woman has been spotted. Really, there's not a lot of attention being paid to Sarah at the moment. A coma patient either wakes up or they don't. That's what the monitor on her finger is for, to alert them if she starts to show signs of stirring. Thus far, nothing like that has happened, though she's regained the color she lacked when they brought her in and less like death warmed over.

    The faint beep...beep...beep of her heartbeat echoes softly in the room, the hissing breathing in and out through the facemask on her mostly covering any other sounds.

Nixe has posed:
    The ninja looks around suspiciously and squeezes herself into the darkest, furthest corner beneath the bed, as if expecting Sarah's pump stand or visitor's chair to shout and call for guards. The dark fluid of her body shifts into a tight crouch as the mutant stays and waits. As fatiguing as climbing a building is she doesn't need to breathe but her nerves could use more than a moment and the trespasser has learned - more than once - that it doesn't pay to be hasty.

    Still, the incessant beeping and the dry, stale air that's fighting the cool breeze from the window earn the nearby wall outlet a glare of true malice. It would be so much quieter with a few things unplugged...

    The ninja's body boils for a moment as she grips the leg of the bed and flows up it, forcing herself to leave the equipment in peace.

Rainmaker has posed:
    There's footsteps that walk past outside, heading further down the hall. But other than that, nothing appears to be out of kilter. Well, other than Sarah. The Apache looks...well, younger. Even vulnerable like this, her expression drained of her personality leaving her...well, empty. Her chest rises and falls slowly under the blankets, the top of a hospital gown poking out over the top.

Nixe has posed:
    The liquid flows with an uncanny care to stay in the bed's shadow, stretching and contorting its flow in abject paranoia. The figure's head - or at least its brow - rises overhead like the branch of a tree and peers down in the darkness. Any thoughts held within them are lost between the unlit room and the inhuman, slitted pupils that almost seem to glow in their center. The black ink draws together slowly, but this time in a different way, leaving behind a shallow, colorless edge as the living liquid wills itself into two parts. The darkness stays sentinel but the ponderously growing water soaks into the dry bedsheets and begins to explore.

    Passing equally through blankets and gown alike, the water traces where it feels weight - brushing here and brushing there up and down the bed.

Rainmaker has posed:
    Soaking through, it finds coppery skin easily enough, warm against the touch of water, soaking easily through the thin hospital gown. There's nothing underneath save panties, her legs bare as well. She doesn't stir at the wetness against her, unmoving as it explores, sheets and gown clinging to her wetly now.

Nixe has posed:
    Where the water touches it lingers - a poor substitute perhaps for the soft and sensitive touch of a fingertip - but when it pulls away there's nothing left behind. Warm moisture itself caresses but then flows on, leaving only the dry phantom of its presence. The ninja's eyes flit more than once to the door, barely craned high enough to see past the Amerindian's chest as she works her mutation in an especially dextrous way.

    Tighter and tighter the inky liquid is bound as more water is given to the discrete chore beneath the bedsheets. Full bands form against the Apache's flesh, coiled like wet serpents around her body. There's a light squeeze that fights against the natural rise and fall of her breathing and presses in on the warm pulse in her arteries as the ninja's head dips and moves upward.

    Nerina brushes her cheek lightly against Sarah's as she takes in a deep breath through her hair and holds her fellow mutant in a hug.