Topic: Nouveau

Katarina Smith

Date: 2010-01-05 01:58 EST
"Now if you would, Katarina, please count back from 100."

The doctor said it a moment ago, but it seemed like hours. Once more, she inhaled the air provided from the plastic mask that had been placed over her mouth and nose. It didn't smell different or odd, but it made her head spin and her vision slightly blurry.

"100, 99, 98.."

She couldn't tell if she was saying the numbers out loud or just in her mind, but her lips moved slightly anyway. Her forehead itched, and she lifted up a heavy arm to relieve the sensation, before remembering the electrode that was firmly in place in the middle of her irritation. Several other similar electrodes were placed on her temples and the base of her head. They didn't feel like anything, but somehow they transferred over to the monitors in motions and beeps that she really didn't understand. Thankfully, this hospital was beyond needing and IV, which had meant no needles, and no need to show her embarrassment over her fear of them.

"97, 96, 95.."

Locke had dropped her off for her appointment with promises to return once he was finished with work. It didn't make sense for him to waste his day waiting, and Katarina had tried to keep him from coming back today all together, but he had been rather persistent. Now, being in the unfamiliar room, alone with just the doctors and nurses, she was comforted with the thought. Even if she would be too drugged and tired to appreciate his visit.

"94, 93, 92.."

Katarina tried to force her body to relax, to decrease the pace of her beating heart. It was to be expected; the nerves of surgery and the unknown. But it wasn't the first time. First, when she was young, to remove her tonsils. She couldn't remember much, except her doctor at the time showed her his "trick" of being able to dislocate this thumb from his hand. And later on in life, a less formal healing procedure on her damaged ankle, only she did not have the luxury of removing her senses from the pain.

"91, 9-"

Heavy eyes couldn't remain open any longer, and she didn't fight the sensation. Nor did she try to fight through the quick halting of her thoughts. Instead, she cocooned her mind and succumbed to darkness.

Katarina Smith

Date: 2010-01-07 15:22 EST
The glass doors to the hospital automatically slid open when Locke approached, bringing a smile to his face. He deftly stepped aside as an elderly woman wheeled an equally elderly man through the doors in a wheelchair, before slipping inside. He waved to the woman manning the desk near the entrance, walking past her and taking a right down a brightly lit hallway. Nearby, a pair of elevators waited. He pressed the up button and was pleased to hear a *ding* and the rumbling of one set of doors opening. He stepped inside, pressed the button for Katarina's floor, and waited as the car slowly ascended.

After a few moments, another *ding* sounded and the doors reopened. There was another desk, this one manned by a rather burly looking male nurse who looked somewhat out of place in the pastel shade of blue his nurse's uniform was in. The man nodded curtly in recognition to Locke, who smiled back before heading down a longer hallway, more delicately lit and with a softer shade of blue-green painted on the walls. A ways down the hall, he found the correct door, and knocked his familiar knock on it.

Tucked under the blankets provided, Katarina tapped her pencil irritably against the wordsearch sitting in her lap. Thanks to Sianna's thoughtfulness, she had enough books and mental games to keep her occupied during the long and boring hours of the day. Sianna had also been mindful enough to pack a nightgown, to which Katarina nearly wept at the sight. However, she wasn't quite sure if it had been the medication, or if she was truly happy to see something of her own.

A few strands of hair fell out of place of her ponytail, and she absently placed them behind her ear as she looked up at the door, a grin spreading at the familiar knock, "Come 'n."

He grabbed the doorknob and twisted, opening the door. The muted, pastel color scheme for the hospital rooms continued here, though this room was more of a lavender shade compared to the hallway. Some flowers sat in vases on an end table near the bed, opposite a dresser. Close to the windows sat a pair of armchairs, but Locke ignored those in favor of sitting down on the middle of the bed, near the edge. "Good afternoon, salkamin."

Her tired face brightened as she closed the thin book and set it aside. "Good afternoon, melamin. How was work today?" She wasn't able to scoot over well enough to give him more room, but she reached out with her hands anyway. Thankfully, no IVs or needles were connected to her, but wires did come up from the neck of her nightgown and connected to the machines that checked her vitals. The tug on them didn't bother her.

He reached a gloved hand of his own towards her, smiling softly as their hands met. "Uneventful. At this point, there is not too much left that Gerard can teach me. It is just a matter of the next show, and how well my pieces go over there."

"I dun thin' there's too much ta teach ya, yeah?" A wink, before she tried to lean back and keep their hands together at the same time, "I'm glad tha' yer here, though. All th' letters ar' startin' ta blur togetha." She briefly motioned to her wordsearch.

"Well, you will be out and about soon enough, with all that entails." He squeezed her hand gently. "And then nothing will hold you back, savvy?"

She smiled, but rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand back, "I dunno 'bout tha'. Yesterday's a bi' hazy, an' I kin't do anythin' withou' that." A deft point to the simple, folded wheelchair at the other side of her bed, "An' I had th' mos' terrible dream, nighmare, er hallucination er whateva ya wan' ta call it 'bout ya las' nigh'."

"Oh?" One of Locke's eyebrows rose, out of curiosity and confusion. "Would sharing it make you feel better, or is it best kept under wraps?" Locke kicked a leg out, as if he was dangling his limbs over a dock.

She pursed her lips and studied him for a moment, before making sure she was able to keep a straight face, "You melted."

"Literally, or figuratively?" Confusion won out over curiosity, as his brow furrowed slightly.

"Literally. Like a' ice cube, only it happened real quick-like." She tried to smile reassuringly at his frown, "Dun worry, I was real sad an' all." She squeezed his hand gently.

"Well, I would certainly hope so." He pretended to be offended, adjusting his plum-colored tie and his hair with his free hand, before shooting her a reassuring wink.

She smiled warmly, before looking down at their entwined hands. Putting the back of his hand down on her thigh, she traced lazy circles in his palm and lines down his fingers, "Do I really hav'ta stay longa? I kin lay 'round jist th' same a' home." She looked up at him through her lashes.

"What did the doctors and nurses say?" He blinked, owlishly, at her as she glanced at him. "And do you really think that they will listen to me?"

"I dunno, maybe if ya used yer charm an' all..." However she sighed, indicating that she knew Locke wouldn't be able to do anything about it, "They said I gotta stay a' least anotha day." She glanced back down as she continued to trace his hand, "I"m just ready to go back home. I've gotten real used ta-" she stopped abruptly, and changed the direction of her comment, "I jist kin't sleep well, yeah?"

"Me neither. I get knackered enough where I should be sleeping like a baby, but my mind keeps bloody racing all over the place." He shook his head lightly. "I think we are both in similar boats, but on different streams, savvy?"

She lifted her head, and her hand stilled in it's motion. She lifted her other hand to caress his face, but lacking gloves and long sleeves, she caught herself and her hand fell back into her lap, "I dun wan'ta be 'n differen' streams." It was a soft murmur as she casted her eyes away again.

"Patience." He saw the hand lifted, pause, and then return against her body. It was a scene that was all too familiar to him, and ripped open wounds that were always just a bit too fresh. "Did you bring gloves with you?" He glanced about the room, like they might be lying around somewhere.

"Check 'n there." She pointed to the small suitcase that was against the wall in the far corner, "I thin' Si packed some fer me."

After removing his hand from hers, Locke hopped off the bed and padded slowly towards the suitcase. He unzipped it and rummaged through various articles of clothing before finding a pair of gray cashmere gloves. He went back to the bed and handed them to her, before sitting down once again in the same spot.

Katarina Smith

Date: 2010-01-07 15:25 EST
Instead of taking the gloves, she simply held her hands out for him. She didn't crack a smile, but her eyes brightened a little.

There was a brief moment of confusion, before a flash of recognition shined in his eyes. One of his hands held her own carefully by the wrist, as he slipped a glove on delicately. After one last tug down to make sure it was secure, he moved on to the other hand. When he finished, he dipped his head in a small nod, another small smile spreading out across his face.

She couldn't help but return the small smile. "Thanks." She wanted to tell him that she missed him, but didn't want him to think of how she would feel if he was going to be taken from her soon. Frustrated, she sighed and finally lifted her hand again so that she could rest it against his cheek, "What am I to do with you, D'Vestavio?" Her smile became slight crooked and to one side.

"I haven't the foggiest, Ms. Smith." He lifted his chin and nose into the air slightly, attempting to put on more formal airs, but he was very quick to cover the hand on his cheek with one of his own. "But I wager it is the same as with me."

She rose a curious brow at that, "Ya dunno wha' ta do wit' me?" Rather than concern her, it brought an amused grin. Quite content to keep her hand to his face, she made no move to wiggle it away from it's place between his cheek and hand.

Or without you, for that matter. Bloody hopeless and helpless, and all that rigamorale." His free hand scratched the side of his head.

She managed to sigh sympathetically for him, "Dunno wha' ta do wit' me er withou' me. You'll jist be a righ'ful mess goin' home ta tha' empty house." She said it as if he didn't experience that already the night before.

"Like riding a bloody bicycle, going back to living by my lonesome again." His frown betrayed his statement, however, as his hand returned to fiddle with the button on his shirt cuffs.

"Well, nah totally alone. Ya go' Patches." A hopeful smile as she finally took her hand off of his cheek as it began to tingle, making sure to take his hand down as well.

"When I see him. He tends to spend much of the day hiding beneath your bed or the couch." He chuckled a little, at the thought of that.

"Th' couch's comfy. Kin't blame th' guy. He migh' come ou' though, if yer all nice-like." Her free hand came up to cover a yawn, and she tried to readjust her position to scoot over a little for him, but moving her legs was a difficult, if not a little painful. So she managed to scoot over only the upper half of her body.

He spotted the yawn, and unconsciously lowered his voice. "Shall I leave, and let you have your 40 winks?"

"No." Her response was quick and firm, before her tone relaxed, "I'm nah tried, really. It's jist... all this." She reached over her shoulder and idly wiggled the showing cords that connected her to the machines. "Unless... ya need ta go?" She tried to keep her tone from souring, but it took some effort.

"And do what?" He scoffed, looking and gesturing toward the window. "Eat dinner by myself? Read by myself? Play solitaire? Study law? It all pales..." His voice trailed off, and he turned back to face her. "You know? I would rather be here, if you have to be here."

"Well, yanno, ya could be tha' social butterfly tha' comes ou' every now an' then." Why she was arguing for him to leave made her blank for a moment, before she squeezed his hand gently, "Bu' 'm gonna be selfish an' say tha' I'd really like ya ta stay fer a bi' longa, yeah?"

"Then I shall stay in the cocoon, in the meantime." His mind jumped to another topic, and he decided to go with it. "How is the food here?"

It's actually pretty decent." She pursed her lips before grinning slightly, "Gonna take me ou' ta dinner?"

"Now? Or when w- you get out of here?" The stumble in the middle of the sentence, and the thought of what he had almost said, made him laugh and smile.

His sudden smile and laughter stopped her from answering and look to him curiously, "Wha'?"

He spoke the words like someone else had said them. " 'When we get out of here.' I nearly said that." He just chuckled, sighed, and shook his head.

She giggled softly, "If only I was lucky 'nough ta hav' ya stuck here wit' me, only I kin imagine ya feel like ya ar' jist th' same." An unexpected shiver ran down her spine and shook her slightly, and she idly rubbed her gloved hand over an exposed arm.

"Yes." Curious, Locke's eyes drifted toward the pillow, then down to the other side of the bed. "Think there's room?"

She looked around her sides as well, studying the available space. That it was built for one person was definitely certain. The ability to fit another though, needed to be tested, "Well, wun know till we try, yeah? If ya dun mind scootin' me ova a bi'." She pulled up on the blankets so that they weren't bound to the sides or the bottom of the bed.

He stood up briefly, dropping to a crouch to untie his shoes and slip them off of his feet while she unmade the bed. "I think if I lay on my side, we'll be aces." He attempted to slip beneath the sheets, with his head resting on his hand resting on the pillow. A quizzical look crossed his face.

His look, accompanied by his ability to fit into the small space, brought a series of laughter that brought tears to her eyes. "Oh Locke, I do love you." Since she still had more space on the other side, she tried to scoot over more, wincing slightly.

Locke lifted up his other hand, pointing at her face with his index finger. He waved it around in slow, concentric circles, appearing just about ready to bop her on the nose. Instead, he pulled the hand back closer to his body, and his look of intense concentration shifted into a smile. "And I return the sentiment wholeheartedly."

At first her eyes followed his circling finger for his amusement, but it quickly made her dizzy and she just closed them quickly and squeezed them in anticipation. When he never touched her nose, she opened one eye cautiously, before smiling softly to him. "A' leas' I dun hav'ta share th' room wit' anyone. Thin' we could sneak ya here all nigh'?" A teasing smile.

"I think the nurses might notice the sleeping bag, or the second body-shaped lump beneath the covers." His hand reached out quickly again for her nose, but instead of tapping it, his touch was feather-soft, barely there.

She crinkled her nose at his light touch and grinned, "I'm tryin' ta behave, hones'. Kin't help tryin' ta be sneaky every now an' then." She brought up two fingers to her lips before pressing them against his.

"I shall blame that on my bad influence, then." He watched the fingers drift towards him, before shutting his eyes at the last moment. They stayed shut as he continued to speak. "Or perhaps you have always been that way."

Katarina Smith

Date: 2010-01-07 15:30 EST
"Ya still dun believe tha' I dun need ya ta be trouble, Karnarashwe?" She chuckled as the fingers on his lips quickly travelled down to tickle his middle.

He resisted the urge to kick or squirm, but he couldn't help but giggle at being tickled. "My presence certainly helps, does it not? I am a shining example of how to get into and out of spots of bother."

"Hmm, I dunno 'bout tha'. I seem ta hav' a' eye fer catchin' yer trouble bahfore ya get 'n too deep." A lingering tickle, before her hand rested upon her midriff.

"Not to mention the fact that you seem to be quite expert at pulling the wool over my minces. The house, Valentine's Day, my Christmas present..." Locke sighed a loud, exaggerated sigh. "I fear that I have grown less vigilant in my advancing years."

"Yer advancin' years." She rolled her eyes, "I's alrigh', ya kin jist admit tha' I win." She now lifted a hand to take her turn at lightly bopping his nose.

His face scrunched up slightly, before he laughed. "Win at what, praytell? I wasn't aware we were competing."

"Everythin'." She scratched lightly beneath her neck at the irritation from the attached electrodes, "Bu' more specifically... a' surprises I guess is th' bes' way ta put it."

"Or maybe I let you win. Have you contemplated that?" He stuck his tongue out and curled himself up into a ball, anticipating a nudge or tickle.

Her eyes narrowed on him, "I dun thin' ya hav' it 'n ya, ta le' someone else win 'n purpose. Too competitive." She did reach out to try and nudge, but since he was curled up, she placed a hand on his arm instead.

She hit the nail on the head. He relaxed, stretching out his legs closer to their full length, and exhaled. "You are abso-bloody-lutely right, Katarina. You know me too well by far." He stretched out his arms, as if getting ready to settle down even further, despite the fact he was still wearing his work clothes. "Not the most comfortable bed I have ever slept on, but I cannot beat the company."

"Well, ya haven' really slept 'n it yet, hav' ya? Kin't make tha' kinda judgment yet. An' 'm th' same company ya hav' any otha time." She watched him stretch, and felt a pain of guilt, "I jist wish ya had more room."

"The space is fine. You know that you more than make up for any of these deficiencies." He peered toward the door, then looked around the bed for any sign of charts or medical records. "Do you know when the nurses will be making their next rounds?"

She glanced around as well, before shrugging and shaking her head, "Nah, I dunno. I haven' really been alert enough ta pay much 'tention. There's a clipboard a' the end o' th' bed." A point in that direction, "Why do ya ask?"

"Well, I fancy a nap, but I do not think they would appreciate it. In the slightest. Dare we risk the wrath of the hospital?" Nevermind his own personal safety, sleeping outside of his usual confines.

Her lips turned down slightly at the corners, "Nah melamin, I dun thin' tha' they would be too happy. Bu', 'm thinkin' a nap's nah th' bes' idea fer ya, here." She brushed the back of her knuckles against his cheek, "Bu' if yer real tired, ya should head home."

It was difficult to hide the disappointment, even in the tiny smile that came when she touched his cheek. "Fair enough. Do you think you can soldier through one more night and one more day?" The deeper implications, and the fact that this was possibly a glimpse of a future where the two of them were separated long-term, took most of the light from his eyes.

"Ain' go' much o' a choice, do I?" She made sure that she had his gaze and she smiled slightly, "Bu' I'll manage an' be jist shiny 'n th' end, yeah?"

"Of course." His hand slipped out from under his head, returning to the hovering act of earlier. This time, though, he pressed his hand against her forehead, as if taking her temperature. The gesture was immediately followed, however, by him leaning his head against the back of his hand. "Lye feithuva.*"

She tensed slightly when he neared, but at his careful touch, she relaxed once more. She sighed softly, closing her eyes briefly, "I know, I know. Bu' afta all this, I dun wan'ta hav' ta do much waitin', yeah?"

"I'm sorry." The simple apology was all he had for her, all he could offer her. His fate, for better or for worse, was out of his hands now.

"Ya dun need ta be apologizin' ta me anymore, Locke. Only fer th' thin's ya hav' control ova o', yeah?" She tried to shift to her side so that she could see him better, and was rather unsuccessful.

He leaned back and away, removing his hand from her head. Noticing her attempts to look at him more directly, he shifted his position so she could see him. "Then I promise, as best as I can, to control those things, savvy?"

"Savvy." A slight smile as she lifted her hands onto his shoulders and slowly sliding them down his arms, "Now, go home an' take a nap, yeah? So I dun hav'ta worry 'bout ya bein' too tired."

"Will do, Doctor Smith." He fired off a jaunty salute, before rolling out of bed and landing on sock-clad feet. He knelt again to put his shoes back on and tie the laces. Once his shoes were back on, and after some tugging and adjusting of his tie and shirt cuffs, he blew her a kiss. "Tenna' tul're, A'maelamin.*"

She snatched up the kiss, before blowing one to him as well, "Tenna' tul're, melamin." She kept her smile bright and reassuring as she gave him a little wave.

He rubbed his cheek and blushed just slightly at the blown kiss, before opening the door to the hallway and shutting it quietly behind him.


*We will wait
Until tomorrow, my beloved

Katarina Smith

Date: 2010-01-18 18:37 EST
Katarina didn't like feeling that she had to sneak around the theatre in order to practice. It might have been because it was quite early, particularly with many talented groups enjoying time away from the stage. Or it could have been anticipating embarrassment when rehearsing once more. Long walks were already tiring on her new ankles. There was no telling how long she would last during a routine practice. Maybe it was because of this reason that she felt the need to be vague in her location to her family, blood and not. Dr. Barta had said that her ankles would be ready by the time rehearsals started, but if she waited that long, the rest of her body would be out of sync.

Quietly, she roamed through the backstage without turning the lights on. It wasn't necessary for her to know her location, and she was in no mood to alert others of her whereabouts. That would only lead to questions and conversations that she wasn't in the mood to participate in. She wanted to dance.

It was rare when Katarina's body remained mostly still for so long. All of her life, dancing was as necessary and vital as breathing. It created her happiness and escape, both her relief and tension. There was simply no life without it.

Finally reaching the practice room of choice, she waited until after the door was closed once more before turning the lights on. The bare walls, with only mirrors and beams for decoration, was more comfortable than her own living room. It was like a quiet reunion of the soul, reunited once more to restore peace within the anxious dancer.

As she sat down to change her shoes, a slight frown crinkled the skin between her brows. While Dr. Barta's work was nearly flawless, it was just that - nearly. The slight pink line of new skin was just another scar to add to what Katarina already hated about her feet. Those feet currently didn't have all of the usual blistering, but callouses remained and the blisters would easily be replaced with her practice.

The stretching and warm-ups were without much change. In fact, she could already sense the strength in her new reinforcers as there was no ache in her ankle. If Katarina held any lingering uncertainties with her surgery, the strength in her ankles now melted the rest away. The pain of healing skin and readjusting muscles was welcomed compared to the constant worry that another injury could end her career. That worry was no more.

With her eyes closed and ears hearing music that wasn't playing, she missed the soft sound of the door opening entirely until words were spoken, "It is nice to see you up and well so soon, Katarina."

Caught off guard, she nearly lost control of her spin and toppled over. It wasn't necessarily the voice that startled her so, but the other man in the mirror reflecting the door.

Katarina Smith

Date: 2010-01-23 01:12 EST
Alik, with his thin silver bands around his neck and wrists stood quietly and almost in the shadows behind the Count. Bile rose up to the middle of her throat before she swallowed it back down sickly. Four months had past since the Red Star performance, and still Katarina could find little desire to forgive him. And for him to come now, when she was recovering and looking weak?. bugger the luck.

?I was just leaving.? She didn?t greet either of them, and turned her back to them sharply while gathering her things. Alone with these two men, all her mind could think of was out out out! She disliked both from different actions. One she had to tolerate ? the other she didn?t. ?Don?t want to over-do it and all.?

?You do not have to leave on our account. In fact, I?m sure that Alik could offer his experiences in a quick recovery.? The Count didn?t move from his position in the doorway, and neither did Alik. He seemed to blend into the shadow behind the shorter man.

?I don?t think I?ll have any problems, but thanks for the offer.? It was an absent reply, even though Alik hadn?t offered. Shoes were haphazardly tossed into her bag. A water bottle she thought might had been there before was also given a home in her bag. Her decision to practice here was a bad idea. She?d rather go to West End to La Barre than be alone with either of them.

The corner of her mind was concerned with Alik?s appearance just weeks before the troupe was starting again, but she didn?t want to take the time to figure that all out. Bag on her shoulder, she straightened up, and headed for the door, pausing when they were still there, ?Excuse me.? She hated the feeling of wanting to hide her eyes, so she didn?t. Nearly eye-level with the Count, she stared at him head on. Her lack of looking at Alik made her feel like he wasn?t even there. Wasn?t even worth her attention, her anger, or her shame.

?We will see you in a few weeks, Rini.? There was a smile in the note of his voice, but Katarina didn?t look over her shoulder to look at the Count after they had moved out of the way. She made sure to keep her steps even, relaxed ? to not show how much the brief encounter bothered her.

She was going to have to bury her anger and fear if she was going to stay on top. The ankle reinforcements were only the foundation for what was to come.