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17 June 2008 @ 12:07 am
Otto has finished something he's been working on something for a while, now. He finally brings that something to Clair, sitting down next to her and holding up a handful of wires terminating in small round pads. He grins.

"Look. Cutaneoneural contact pads."

The grin looks a bit hopeful. Clearly, this is something he's been working on her with for a while.
It's a quiet night home for Clair.  Far too many nights are quiet nights home.  But she can find contentment in moments like this, spent reading in the main room with Angie drowsing heavily under her arm and Nova a warm weight across her bare feet.  Her attention is only slightly split, her tentacles in the kitchen doing the dishes.
11 October 2007 @ 03:01 pm
The laboratory suddenly got a little more colourful. And more ... timey-wimey.

"Hullo? Clair? Dreadfully sorry to just show up, but It appears I've misplaced my, er, Nexus-phone...."

You can has a Rassilon. A rather frazzled-looking Rassilon.
02 October 2007 @ 03:08 am
Grey spent the night coming down off the "high" of a strawberry candy and attempting to write in the journal provided to him. Of course he had to scrap the first few pages that he'd written under the influence of the euphoric. What a bunch of mindless gibberish that had been.

But then he'd written. Every little detail he knew about everything he'd been on thus far and what effects it'd had. In the margins were little scribbles of various scientific equations and theories and such. And in the garbage, among the euphoric induced pages of blabber, was another page torn into teeny tiny bits. Unreadable. It was a page he'd started full of thoughts on where he was and the people he'd seen here, including Clair. His theories on her and her behavior etc. But it hadn't taken him long to realize that Clair likely had no sense of privacy when it came to her subjects (he could relate really). If she read what he'd written it would undoubtably alter her behavior. So he'd scrapped it as well.

It was a few days before he saw Clair again. She came into his cell and provided him with another candy. He was reluctant at first. Especially after she'd spoken of running tests on that awful numbing crap, not to mention of killing him, the previous time he'd seen her. But in the end curiosity had won out as always. She'd left afterwards, which he found peculiar. Not that he hadn't suspected the possibility of there being cameras in his rooms mind you.

So here he sat waiting for it's effects.
Current Mood: curiouscurious
07 September 2007 @ 09:19 pm
Once Clair is gone Grey wastes no time finding his feet. The going is painfully slow but eventually he figures out how to walk. He makes his way slooowly to the bathroom.

Grey manages to brush his teeth, shower, change his clothes, and change the gauze pad on his arm. And it only takes him a few hours! But by the end... he's noticing that things are getting easier. That he can feel again. Just a little. Pressure here... a pin-prick of pain there (ribs, agh, he's been moving too erratically).

He's noticed that there is a pen and a journal on the desk... but he highly doubts he'll be able to manage writing quite yet. Not easily anyway. Instead he finds an easy snack in the kitchenette and then... well why not? He checks the door. And is rather surprised to find it open.

He stands there for a moment. Why would it be open? Was it purposeful? A slip of the mind? Was she toying with him....?

....He quietly slips out.
Current Mood: Cautious.
31 August 2007 @ 02:28 pm
Grey has been drifting repeatedly in and out of a very light sleep for a while now. Nothing solid, far from it, but it's surprising to him that it's happening at all. The whole thing must have tired him out more than he thought.

He's just staring at the ceiling now. Thinking. It was highly unlikely that Spider was stable enough to attempt a successful rescue effort. Grey wasn't sure he even would. He needed to get himself out of this.
Current Mood: thoughtfulthoughtful
Clair is a methodical researcher, these days.  She's cultured Doctor Grey's blood, run a doze tests to be sure he's no strange mutant to create meaningless outliers in her data pool.  Everything looks good.

So, she pays him another visit.  He can hear the actuators before the door slides open, and she's suspended in their midst, high enough that she can look down on him.  That's a useful psychological effect, she knows, even if he's resistant.  It emphasizes the fact that while she may appear small and harmless herself (And... she is, except for her prediliction for needles), she has the complete use and control of four thirty-foot-long arms, each capable of crushing a car into something that would fit in a gym locker.

And she has a bag of candy.

"Good morning, Doctor Grey.  I hope you got some sleep.  Inky said you've been relatively quiet, that's good.  Is there anything you'd like for your room?  I know it's pretty sterile."  She rummages through the bag, picks out the last orange one, and unwraps it and pops it in her mouth.  All that are left now are pink and purple, and she offers him the bag.  "Sweet?"
Current Mood: busybusy
08 April 2007 @ 05:21 pm
It's early in the morning. And someone is sneaking into the bedroom. That someone appears to be carrying an armful of something. He silently slides up to the bed where an individual of a Clair-like nature is still sleeping, enjoying a rare lie-in.

A beat.

Then floomp! The figure drops his armload onto Clair, which turns out to be a pile of these.

"Good morning!"
Current Mood: cheerfulmuahaha
30 January 2007 @ 05:14 pm
It took Clair a while to put her lab all back in order after the Rassplosion.  Everything turned back into its proper form, fortunately enough (Ferris wheels do not work to scan bodies, alas), but not always in the right place.  And leaving Frank alone in here with opposable thumbs would have meant chaos, reality fractures or not.  And all the equipment that had previously been involved with experiments on her now-missing patients had to be packed up, too.  She used the opportunity to refit the cells and move the two patients she has left into them, all politely hidden away down a little side corridor.

And now it's all shipshape again, no, not that ship shape.  Even the living area is relatively normal looking, Inky's tangle of tubular  tank cleaned and repaired and the television once more treeless.  Clair's left Angelina with Otto, so it's just her and Nova waiting for Parker to come by