'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itaregulargirlJuly 27 2010, 06:12:52 UTC
It's probably not a good idea for Max to be working after everything her body's been put through this weekend, especially after Peter did whatever he'd done to fight her off, but she's there anyway. She's moving a bit slower and stiffer than usual, but aside from that and the grim expression that shows when she lets the mask of customer service cheerfulness slip, there's not much of a hint that anything's wrong with her. Even her hands are nearly healed, the only evidence that they were ever damaged being the fact that they're clipped a bit shorter than usual and a couple of bandages covering her knuckles.
She brings an empty tray back to the kitchen and leans slightly against a wall as she waits for the order for her next table to be ready, closing her eyes. She's tired, her body still aches, but even though her memories of the past week and a half are still fuzzy, none of them feature her attending her shifts at work, and while she could easily steal whatever she needs, she doesn't really want to lose her job.
So she's here, just trying to get through her shift without snapping at people (any more than usual) or dropping anything on anybody's lap, or the floor. She's going through the motions, not doing much talking to anyone unless she's taking an order or answering a question.
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itadamantinedJuly 27 2010, 16:46:12 UTC
After leaving Amory to his break, his cigarette, and his coin, Claire shows herself inside, striding across familiar floorboards and cutting across a well-traveled and familiar distance. There are a few regulars' faces that she recognizes, people that she serves occasionally but not often enough to stop and talk to now. Getting in and out is her main objective, too worried about the amount of time being wasted doing something less than productive in terms of what is going on outside in the City proper. Blue isn't even in the office at the moment, but her paycheck is, and Claire swipes it out of her cubbyhole and heads back down the hall, toward the bar, barely paying attention to where she is going as she slices the mouth of the envelope unevenly open with a rough tug.
In this manner, she does not actually see Max until she is almost running her over, and only then when she's stepped back enough to look up with a certain degree of surprise and an apology already falling out of her mouth. "Sorry!" The envelope in her hand crinkles in her sudden fist, and Claire tries a smile that fortunately manages to not come off as awkward as she feels that it does, a strange stretching to her face. "Hey," she says, then pauses and glances around. "I didn't think you'd be working."
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itaregulargirlJuly 27 2010, 19:07:53 UTC
Max straightens as Claire nearly crashes into her and whirls around to see who it is, relaxing when she sees that it's her. As well as Claire hides it, Max doesn't miss that there's something a tiny bit off about her smile, but she doesn't press it, though her shoulders do tense a bit as she subtly looks her over for any weapons she may be carrying (like a sedative pen).
Not immediately finding anything, her shoulders lower a tiny bit and she nods to Claire in greeting. Her concern is valid, given the state of some (most) of the others who were previously infected, but she doesn't want to rest any more than she already has. "I'm fine," she replies, shrugging. "Nothing I can't work through."
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itadamantinedJuly 27 2010, 23:35:23 UTC
It's an encouragement to see someone up and about and trying to get back to a certain degree of normalcy, and Claire supposes that Blue is probably thankful for the help, though she can understand other people's positions in not wanting to come in or leave their apartments until the entire debacle is completely resolved, but it still strikes her as odd if only because everyone else she's seen coming off the tail end of this has needed time. In a way, it affords her certain clues about Max she only had hunches about before, after their brief conversation on the Network the other day.
Claire taps the pale envelope in her hand against the bent knuckles of the other and nods, slowly, several times, acknowledging the point despite not necessarily being able to find anything to contribute to it. Mentally filing away certain details that explain themselves and more than she wants to ask about - the state of Max's hands, for example - Claire throws a glance over her shoulder and shifts her weight. When she turns back around, her thumb is hitched over her shoulder, toward the dining area, and she says, "At least it's not too busy of a night out there. That gives you a little bit more of a chance to get back into the swing of things."
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itaregulargirlJuly 28 2010, 05:24:50 UTC
In truth, Max isn't doing quite as well as she's pretending, but aside from not wanting to lose her job, work provides her with at least a little distraction from how she's been feeling. Getting caught and infested the first time was bad enough, but she could justify falling for it to herself to a certain degree. It wasn't as if Chase had been acting unusual, up until he'd injected her with a sedative. But falling for it twice, nearly getting infested again? Had she really let her defenses slip that much, gotten that rusty at the skills that had been drilled into her since birth?
She can't afford to let it happen again.
Max glances over at the dining area and nods, a small smile ghosting her lips. "Yeah. Means less tips, but I'm kinda glad to have the break." The smile turns a tiny bit wry. "Of course I should probably just be grateful that I still have a job at all."
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itadamantinedJuly 28 2010, 05:41:54 UTC
"Given the way this place works in general, I think Blue and Peter both understand." Even if one of them, at least, is not here right now, stuck in some sort of maze or journey into this world's version of an underworld. Claire knows from experience that leniency is an unstated but understood clause somewhere like the Blue Light, where every day is a toss up as to whether you come to work believing you are actually yourself or don't show up at all because you can't shake the feeling that you are someone else. Or because you've been turned into an octopus.
She uses the natural pause in conversation as an opportunity to make mental checks, noting a bruise here or a bump there. Given the state of Claire's hair and her shoes and what once were a decently white pair of socks, she can understand on some level the way the rest of the City is dealing with this problem, and it's a testament to either how resilient they are or to how stubborn they are that no one actually says anything when presented with an opportunity.
"I'm sure they're glad you're here, though. Even if people aren't pouring in here like they usually do, having someone around for the people who do manage the trip is worth it." It's a generic conversation piece, as Claire isn't really sure what she's supposed to say, the same way she's not been sure of what she's supposed to say with anyone these past few days. She taps the envelope against her palm, weighing what's inside.
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itaregulargirlJuly 28 2010, 07:24:46 UTC
There aren't very many bumps, bruises, or scratches to see, save for the ones on her hands that are bandaged. There's one bruise on her shoulder that's a bit deep, but it's already faded from an angry purplish red to a sickly yellow color and doesn't show unless the sleeve of her t-shirt shifts to reveal it. The fact that she's running on fumes is slightly more obvious - there are dark shadows underneath her eyes, indicating that she hasn't slept at all (which she generally doesn't need to do, but the week's involved a lot of manual labor and she's exhausted) and her hair, which is pulled into a low ponytail, is coming loose, strands of hair falling around her face.
Pain and fatigue are things she can ignore, though. It's one of the first things they taught her.
"Don't blame the people who didn't for not wanting to make it, though," she says, tucking one of the strands behind her ear. She's not too sure what to say here, either. There's a lot she doesn't really feel like discussing. On the other hand, this kind of conversation is almost welcome after how insane her week was (or what she can remember of it). It's the kind of normalcy she craves.
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itadamantinedJuly 28 2010, 17:09:49 UTC
"Me either," Claire replies, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she glances around. Amory is still relatively busy at the bar, but Claire supposes that people are more interested in having a drink than they are in eating something when the world is going to hell as it does on most random Tuesdays. Still no sign of Blue that she can see, and without a real purpose for being here, Claire supposes that she should get out of the way even if it's not that busy. She can't feel productive standing around, doing nothing.
"Did you need any help with anything?" she asks, almost automatically and not out of pity, just out of habit. Claire is sure Max can handle herself, especially when the place isn't as busy as it usually is, but she can spare a minute to help with an order or stack a rack of glasses if she needs to. Otherwise, she knows she should go, whether to keep searching for what she already let slip away or to actually get some sleep.
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itaregulargirlJuly 30 2010, 05:11:18 UTC
Max knows that she'd much rather have a drink than attempt to eat anything right now, so she can also understand why the bar is fairly busy. She's debating asking those behind the bar if they want any help after the rest of the tables are empty, but she'll see if it gets any busier first. Because you never know.
"I think I'm okay," she answers after a minute of debating, looking out at the dining room again. "Unless you really want to be here when you're not scheduled." There's a pause. "Thank you, though."
'cause i fear i might break, and i fear i can't take itadamantinedJuly 30 2010, 06:13:49 UTC
"Okay." Claire offers a laugh, more an exhale, a rush of breath that stalls across the back of her teeth and gets caught up in a smile that's become constant. She's much better at smiling than she is at anything else, including standing around and trying to fill up the gaps in conversation with anything other than silence. "I think I'm okay with listening to what the schedule says, but you're welcome."
She lingers for a moment, for whatever reason, sweeping one last look out over the floor before she turns back to Max and offers another small smile. Claire almost asks after more details of how she's feeling, but with the ground they're all walking on being as unfamiliar as it is, she doesn't press. Instead, she says, "See you around, and, uh, have a good night. Tip-wise. And otherwise."
And then Claire is nodding at her as she passes by, trying hard not to think of all the things that her brain automatically redirects itself to without actual intention, though she thinks mostly of Peter now that her list of distractions has run out and she is back at square one. Her tennis shoes thud enough against the floorboards of the Blue Light to remind her where she is, and, just at the backdoor, Claire turns and offers a wave before leaning her shoulder against it and letting the late night wind into the bar.
She brings an empty tray back to the kitchen and leans slightly against a wall as she waits for the order for her next table to be ready, closing her eyes. She's tired, her body still aches, but even though her memories of the past week and a half are still fuzzy, none of them feature her attending her shifts at work, and while she could easily steal whatever she needs, she doesn't really want to lose her job.
So she's here, just trying to get through her shift without snapping at people (any more than usual) or dropping anything on anybody's lap, or the floor. She's going through the motions, not doing much talking to anyone unless she's taking an order or answering a question.
Reply
In this manner, she does not actually see Max until she is almost running her over, and only then when she's stepped back enough to look up with a certain degree of surprise and an apology already falling out of her mouth. "Sorry!" The envelope in her hand crinkles in her sudden fist, and Claire tries a smile that fortunately manages to not come off as awkward as she feels that it does, a strange stretching to her face. "Hey," she says, then pauses and glances around. "I didn't think you'd be working."
Reply
Not immediately finding anything, her shoulders lower a tiny bit and she nods to Claire in greeting. Her concern is valid, given the state of some (most) of the others who were previously infected, but she doesn't want to rest any more than she already has. "I'm fine," she replies, shrugging. "Nothing I can't work through."
Reply
Claire taps the pale envelope in her hand against the bent knuckles of the other and nods, slowly, several times, acknowledging the point despite not necessarily being able to find anything to contribute to it. Mentally filing away certain details that explain themselves and more than she wants to ask about - the state of Max's hands, for example - Claire throws a glance over her shoulder and shifts her weight. When she turns back around, her thumb is hitched over her shoulder, toward the dining area, and she says, "At least it's not too busy of a night out there. That gives you a little bit more of a chance to get back into the swing of things."
Reply
She can't afford to let it happen again.
Max glances over at the dining area and nods, a small smile ghosting her lips. "Yeah. Means less tips, but I'm kinda glad to have the break." The smile turns a tiny bit wry. "Of course I should probably just be grateful that I still have a job at all."
Reply
She uses the natural pause in conversation as an opportunity to make mental checks, noting a bruise here or a bump there. Given the state of Claire's hair and her shoes and what once were a decently white pair of socks, she can understand on some level the way the rest of the City is dealing with this problem, and it's a testament to either how resilient they are or to how stubborn they are that no one actually says anything when presented with an opportunity.
"I'm sure they're glad you're here, though. Even if people aren't pouring in here like they usually do, having someone around for the people who do manage the trip is worth it." It's a generic conversation piece, as Claire isn't really sure what she's supposed to say, the same way she's not been sure of what she's supposed to say with anyone these past few days. She taps the envelope against her palm, weighing what's inside.
Reply
Pain and fatigue are things she can ignore, though. It's one of the first things they taught her.
"Don't blame the people who didn't for not wanting to make it, though," she says, tucking one of the strands behind her ear. She's not too sure what to say here, either. There's a lot she doesn't really feel like discussing. On the other hand, this kind of conversation is almost welcome after how insane her week was (or what she can remember of it). It's the kind of normalcy she craves.
Reply
"Did you need any help with anything?" she asks, almost automatically and not out of pity, just out of habit. Claire is sure Max can handle herself, especially when the place isn't as busy as it usually is, but she can spare a minute to help with an order or stack a rack of glasses if she needs to. Otherwise, she knows she should go, whether to keep searching for what she already let slip away or to actually get some sleep.
Reply
"I think I'm okay," she answers after a minute of debating, looking out at the dining room again. "Unless you really want to be here when you're not scheduled." There's a pause. "Thank you, though."
Reply
She lingers for a moment, for whatever reason, sweeping one last look out over the floor before she turns back to Max and offers another small smile. Claire almost asks after more details of how she's feeling, but with the ground they're all walking on being as unfamiliar as it is, she doesn't press. Instead, she says, "See you around, and, uh, have a good night. Tip-wise. And otherwise."
And then Claire is nodding at her as she passes by, trying hard not to think of all the things that her brain automatically redirects itself to without actual intention, though she thinks mostly of Peter now that her list of distractions has run out and she is back at square one. Her tennis shoes thud enough against the floorboards of the Blue Light to remind her where she is, and, just at the backdoor, Claire turns and offers a wave before leaning her shoulder against it and letting the late night wind into the bar.
Reply
Leave a comment