video | c.fraser

[nineteenfortyfive]

[This is one stressed, unhappy Claire Fraser. She wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand before looking at the screen, clearly torn between trying to appear professional and not giving a damn and doing nothing to hide her agitation. After moment, the latter wins out.]

If you haven't noticed, the bloody Sanctuary has closed its doors. Look miserable enough and you might be let in, but for now, I wouldn't go to them if you're in need of medical assistance. [Her way of helping--the less people banging at their door, the sooner they might relax. Unlikely, given the state of things, but she'll try where she can. Yet this has soured her opinion of the place, and Lysa.]

I've some things I've collected myself, and I'm sure some of you have managed to borrow supplies, so I suggest we all pool it together. Make our own temporary clinic until they allow us back in. A place to treat everyone, regardless of the madness in the streets. The residential district, preferably. Somewhere out of the way.

Ideally, no one will be hurt, but I don't think that's a realistic goal at this point.

[Looting, riots, vultures... no way blood isn't getting spilled.]

If you're a healer, and you'd like to assist, please do so. If you're hurt, let myself or someone else know. Someone can go to you or fetch you. We must rely on ourselves.

[She hesitates before adding:]

And I suppose if you feel like paying the Sanctuary a visit regardless, I can tell you where things are and what we could use.

[Not too long after this goes live, there's a text file attached with the address of a run down house not far from the starter homes, as well as a list of items that would be appreciated, including food.]

Comments

[stripebacked]

And that is where I will be.

[ Right by her side. Partly because he doesn't trust many to be alone with his wife. The intentions of people are never what they appear to be. ]

I promise.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[She's paying close attention to his other conversation. She's not stepping in, not there, not wanting to give ridiculous men more to comment about, but she does speak openly here knowing others can see it.]

I love you, Jamie.

[stripebacked]

[ He's far more vulnerable than he wishes to be right now. But that's just something he has to endure. Endure he shall. He knows why she's taking the time to tell him this. Partially because of how his conversation is going with this man. She knows better than anyone that he's opening up fresh wounds. ]

I love you, Claire.

[ He sighs. ]

I'm sorry for being an arse.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[She knows she never said it enough when she was younger. Even now, though she means the words, she never feels like they carry the same sincerity and weight as they do when he says them. Still, he deserves to hear it. Always.]

You don't need to apologize.

[stripebacked]

I do. I was behaving like a child with the man.

[ He doesn't like when things are between them. He doesn't like when they're angry with one another. He doesn't like when it feels like they're slipping away. He doesn't want to shut her out. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Or just like a man would. [Sorry, Jamie, she has low expectations of men when their testosterone gets flowing.]

[stripebacked]

Perhaps.

[ There's a hint of a smile there. Not many make Jamie smile these days, but his wife does the trick very well. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Just agree.

[She smiles faintly herself. It's good, to joke, even if she knows it'll be brief.]

[stripebacked]

[ There's a fond sort of smile that touches his lips this time. Jamie nods his head slowly. ]

Aye. I agree.

[ He's learned by now that it's better to agree with your lovely wife. ]