I can only imagine what it would be like to watch your limb grow back. She falls silent, only for a moment. The first time in the conversation. A whole sleeve? So practically your whole arm—wow. That must be amazing, but the pain, have you learned to tolerate it now? I’ve heard some real stories about getting tattooed and some of them talk about how much it hurts. Specifically on ones close to the bone. Now that I think about it… it might have been. They could have been laying along the seats trying to get some warmth during the cold, the poor fellas.
I imagine it’s painful, you’d think having a limb regrow would at least pinch. She nods. Just about and tolerating is as close to how I deal with it than anything, you’ve gotta distract yourself sometimes. Depends on the person, some of them have different sensitive spots than others — but elbows are a universal pain in the ass to tattoo so I’d avoid it. Would you rather deal with homeless people sleeping around you or just going during the day and dealing with the assholes then?
She nods crisply, not recognizing the woman. Gillian’s only been here for about a few days and even a few hours of talking to her now-superiors and one psychologist (psychiatrist?), she’s finally cleared. Socializing with other people in the building wasn’t a priority of hers after getting her nerves pulled. Yes, ma’am. I’m afraid I don’t know who you are, though. Sorry.
She makes a face. Sorry, I should ask your name rather than rely on the rumors people are so fond of speaking. People had called her ma’am before, more importantly when they needed something from her resources, so Amy couldn’t help but frowning. I’m Amy, no need to call me anything but that since I have no say over your.. division. Assuming they didn’t assign you to surveillance? She ends it as a question, because she hadn’t listened closely enough to know where her new co-worker had been assigned.
"Ah," Riley wasn’t even sure how to respond to that. It was unexpected. Not unwanted, but… did she even mean that? Far too many times people say things they don’t mean. They say things that they don’t expect someone to take them up on. Maybe this was another one of those things. However, she hadn’t known Amy for very long and she never said anything like that before so… did she mean it? “Thanks, darlin’." She looks away momentarily, feeling genuinely touched. “I’ll be sure t’ remember that." She offered a slight smile and a nod, glancing up at her momentarily.
Riley thought about what they had told her. There weren’t any names thrown out, just various people that were stationed in certain places. Most of them were human, or so she believed. It usually was the post-human members that made it out alive. “Some of the lookouts didn’t make it, I heard. It made communication a little tricky, otherwise we would have seen what was coming before it came.” Even though Riley wasn’t there, she said ‘we’. She still felt a part of Nexus. When Amy mentioned that she had gotten attacked and then revealed the bite mark, Riley took a step forward to look at it. “At home? Did’ya not get it checked out at a hospital? It could get infected!” Riley didn’t know why Amy would risk her health like that. A doctor’s visit would have been much better.
"Good, please do." She wanted Riley to remember that, though her own embarrassment at admitting feelings of friendship to her was a bit more frightening than it should have been. Though it had been years since she had gained a friend anyway that this almost felt strange and foreign had she not remembered a faint feeling back in school so many years ago. Amy cleared her throat, subconsciously mimicking Riley’s look away and not realizing it again until they were facing each other again, moving on to the subject of who had been hurt after the mess that had been 4th of July. "We would have all left much sooner if we had noticed that, we’ll have to pay more attention to when they… take our men." She felt bad for not feeling more of a loss towards the people who had lost their lives, but she had long gotten used to the habit of throwing that feeling away, even if her therapist disagreed with that line of thought.
She made a face, shocked at Riley’s reaction; while it wasn’t as big of a blow up as her brother’s reaction, it was still a reaction she hadn’t expected from her southern friend. “There… There were people piling into hospitals left and right, it would have been a waste to go there myself…” Hospitals had never been her favorite place, she would sooner have to be dragged there before she went willingly. “My brother’s friend handled checking it out, I… there wasn’t really much else we could do and furthermore, would the hospital have done anything but bandage it and shove antibiotics that I can’t take into my hands?”
Gillian stands in the armory, her eyes analyzing each weapon on display. There’s a drawer, and she pops it open to reveal an arrangement of daggers and knives. The toe of her shoe pushes it closed. She eyes a gamut of assault rifles and takes one down from its rack - a M16A4. Her hand closes around the trigger, eyes closed. Explosions like firecrackers sound in the air - noises that aren’t there. A sigh leaves her lips, and she sticks the rifle back where it belongs. Footsteps sound behind her. Immediately, she whirls around, a blur of golden hair, and salutes, snapping into a stance she’s incredibly comfortable with. Her heels touch and her toes are the Army standard of 45 degrees apart; her dog tags jingle noisily on the lanyard around her neck. She drops her salute within seconds, though, but keeps a rigid posture. Old habit. Gillian clears her throat. Am I allowed here? Maybe she should have asked that first, but her feet had taken her here and her nose had smelled the scent of unfired weapons like a bloodhound.
The fresh batch had just come in earlier that day, a new rack of guns with names and serial codes that Amy didn’t know by heart when had zero experience with wielding anything other than a plain handgun. Someone had to keep track of them though, count how many they had in case someone decided to get the sticky fingers. She sighed as she stepped into the room, spotting the woman’s golden hair before she turns with a salute. Recognizing the posture as the one her brother’s friend used, Amy frowned, giving a short nod. Fair enough, old habits are hard to break. Shrugging, she looked back down at her clipboard, checking that she was indeed in the right place before glancing up again with a half-smile. As long as you aren’t stealing anything, it’s not an issue with me if you’re here. Though you’ll have to clear out when they come down to move these. She pauses. You’re Gillian, right?
Oh, that’s true. Nothing is worth losing a limb, unless that limb happens to regrow or is tainted by some disease and you’re faced with the decision of a horrible and painful death or the loss of your limb… a tattoo? How interesting. How many tattoos do you have? And yes, I used it during my first year of college and the first time I was away from my parents. I couldn’t stand it any longer and took the subway back home. It was a little frightening to be out when most were sleeping—at least I thought most would be sleeping but practically all of the seats were taken! I guess it stays true to its nickname as the city that never sleeps.
If my limbs happen to regrow after I cut them off, which I don’t plan to, I’d have to request I get myself locked up for mental health because I would probably freak out. Quite a lot, enough to have a sleeve and a partial sleeve, of course! Hm, those weren’t just homeless people trying to nap their way until morning, right?
"Yeah, s’pose you’re right." Sometimes people in Nexus just wanted to be rude, something Riley never really understood. They were all working for the same goal. It wouldn’t hurt to be civil with one another would it? Riley has always been patient enough with them, only rarely letting her anger peek out when things had gone too far. “Y-yeah, it’s fine, darlin’. I’m aware of how I dressed myself this mornin’." She offered a slight chuckle, reaching to grab the back of her neck. Was she sure? No, of course she wasn’t. But how was she going to admit she hadn’t shrugged off her first kill as easily as she believed everyone else in the company had. She was finally getting attention for her work—from Jon nonetheless. She wasn’t going to have it taken away just like that. She had worked to hard. She’d get over it. Eventually.
"Did’ya get hurt?" Riley asked, concerned. “I heard we lost some people that day and some of ‘em were injured, but were you?" Riley hoped it wasn’t anything too bad, it must have not been since she happened to be at work that day. She wondered what had happened. She was working in her office that day, not feeling quite up to doing field work. She should have gone though. Maybe then she would have been able to keep an eye Rae and prevented what had happened. However, for obvious reasons she wanted to be kept off the field for now.
"I tend to be." Her lips twitched again, trying to pull up into a smile but being unable to replace the small one that was on her face already. Arrogance was a trait she hadn’t dealt with much over the years, but it had been known to show up and in the case of being right… Well, she just couldn’t resist with that and how often was she right anyway? She was wrong about high school being fun, she was wrong about the girl being dead, she was wrong about staying behind to wait it out instead of making a run for it while she had the chance — she should be allowed to be arrogant when she was right for once. "No slight against how you’re dressed, of course, so I’ll take your word for it." Amy paused and then the words fell from her lips quickly, almost mushing together, "and I’m here to listen if you need to talk or anything."
Amy had never considered the people they had lost, hadn’t wanted to think about what happened once chaos erupted around them and while she was aware that they wanted the Rogues and PROTECT to fight it out among themselves, she hadn’t thought it would get to that level. She hadn’t pictured their people dying. “Who did we lose?” Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, trying to think of who she hadn’t seen since then, whether it was somebody she knew or not. The question of her own health made her feel guilty, as though being annoyed that she was injured when others had died was a disrespect, but it was fair, right? “One of the… whatever they were, jumped me from behind, got a nice one from it,” she said, wincing at she pulled her shoulder sleeve aside to reveal the teeth mark on her shoulder. “It’s not as bad now, it was a bleeding mess at home…”
Well, it’s hard to disassociate the two so soon after the event. No, I volunteered, we had bodies coming in like crazy and most of the technicians had gone home. I don’t mind a little grunt work every once and a while, so long as it’s quiet. She laughs. Hopefully it didn’t bite you too hard. My grandfather used to say that New York was the biggest accident of a city he’d ever seen, so that’s a pretty accurate assessment. I get up at the crack of dawn myself, partly for that reason.
If I try hard enough I might be able to do so, but I probably won’t be lucky enough to forget all about it, neither will any of the kids around here who had witnessed the same thing. Where do you work then? She raises a brow. Oh, just enough to leave a small scar, but I’m not one of the bodies that you seem to have dealt with so I can’t complain too much. Your grandfather is one of the wise people about New York then. Any luck avoiding traffic then? Might start waking up then if it helps me get to work faster.
It was, unless my mental calender is way farther off base than I had previously thought. I ended up going back to work for half the night, it was easier just to hold down the fort in the morgue than try to hitch a cab, unfortunately. She shrugs, sighing. I’ve lived there long enough that it’s not worth going through the mess of trying to move, and honestly, I’m not sure that I want to suffer through sitting in a car with the twenty-somethings I work with.
No, you’re right, I was just hoping I was thinking of something other than that. They made you keep working for the evening or did you volunteer? I wish I had thought to do that much, I just tried to hide and that definitely bit me in the ass. She winces. Eh, New York doesn’t seem like it was built for optimal travel since no one can get anywhere without leaving at the crack of dawn or sooner.