( closed )
WHO: Nina Sayers | herturn and a bunch of helpful NPCs.
WHERE: A hospital.
WHEN: Between the night of February the 15th (Tuesday) and February the 19th (Saturday).
WARNINGS: Spoilers, maybe? What else is new.
SUMMARY: A telling of several moments that take place during her stay at the hospital, leading up to her first network post.
FORMAT: Solo.
As soon as Nina realizes she's there, her senses collapse. She's only vaguely aware of the things happening, hands holding her up and voices surrounding her in a busy hurry, but she can't see faces or understand words. Maybe they're asking her questions, maybe they're telling her what to do, maybe they're not talking to her at all.
She's cold and tired. The doctors believe that she has lost a lot of blood. The blur of strong white lights and movement around her give place to total darkness and exhaustion when she finally closes her eyes.
(She hears a soft giggle.)
♔
Nina wakes up with a gasp.
The room is silent as soon as she realizes where she is. Her back relaxes into the hospital bed while she looks around and tries to remember why and how she got there, muscles stretching with a small grunt and shut eyes.
The image of a man offering her a cigarette and of her entering the hospital come to mind. She looks down at her hand to find a wristband with no name. Nina frowns and finally sits up, brushing her hair off her face before she notices her bloodied Odette outfit has been replaced by a hospital gown.
She makes a little sound when she exhales. Her muscles relax. Nina is tired, so tired, and still cold.
♔
She tries to remember those last moments before she woke up next to the machine, hoping it can somehow explain. Only the final act of the performance comes to mind, then the stage lights obfuscating and fading into white along with the memory of Thomas holding her face.
Nina looks down and places a hand on her stomach. She remembers spotting the bloodstain on her outfit before the final act with a strange feeling of detachment from that moment. All she knows for certain is that she felt completely at peace with it back then, accomplished and so... free.
Nina can remember being so sure that she had finally shed the perception of reality that had blended and intertwined and distorted everything until it made her unrecognizable. She remembers being prepared to accept her death upon the final delivery of a perfect performance.
The memory of it just makes her feel scared and disgusted. It seems so askew when she thinks about it, almost as surreal as the both familiar and foreign floor beneath her feet and the cold, white walls around her, void of human presence or comfort.
Tears roll down her cheeks, afflicted and overwhelmed and alone.
♔
"We just need to ask you some questions."
She nods, softly, parting her lips with knitted brows. "Yes?"
"What's your name?"
"Nina. Nina Sayers."
"Are you an imPort, Ms. Sayers?"
Silence. She looks up at the nurse, still drowsy and confused, making a little sound before the reply. "A what?"
"Are you from this dimension."
"... I don't understand."
The nurse shakes her head with an exhale, writing away on the form. She puts the papers down for a moment, checks on a couple of things, then delivers some more information to the girl about her current condition.
Nina's gaze drifts away in thought. As the nurse is about to leave, she raises her voice, quickly retracting her tone in embarrassment.
"--I'd like to make a call. Please."
♔
Nina sits on the chair next to her bed, metallic with white plastic pads, tinged by age. Her elbows are resting on her knees while her left hand holds the receiver, teeth chewing on her free hand's nails after she dials the number, frowning, shaking her leg.
...
"Hello?"
There's a beat; the voice isn't exactly accurate, but it's recognizable enough to make the girl believe she reached the number. Nina smiles a little, her tone just as hopeful as it is fearful. "Mom?"
"... Who is this?"
Despite the question, Nina finds the tone to be unlike her mother's. Surprise and hesitation make her go quiet for moments.
"... It's me." Her voice is a little weaker. "Nina."
"... I'm pretty sure you have the wrong number, Miss."
"--oh. I'm sorry."
When she hangs up, she waits for a few seconds. She considers the possibility that she got the number wrong, running the digits and placement of her fingers through her head. She finally decides to try again, a little more careful (and nervous) this time.
Nina's eyes look ahead when she hears the same voice. There's no way she made the same mistake twice, but the voice on the other hand continues to claim otherwise. She exhales and quickly hangs up the phone.
♔
Nina lies on her side, fingers curling on the sheets. She notices that her fingernails are getting long again.
She's been told that she is being discharged. With no place to go, no clothes to wear and no one she can reach, she can only think of the stranger she found (or did he find her?). The more she thinks about him, the more she questions his intentions, brushing him out of her already narrow list of possibilities.
She's alone. The more she thinks about it, the more she gives place to the belief that she's dead.
Or that none of what she remembers is real.
Nina cries herself to sleep.
(She dreams about the third act.)
♔
The more she sleeps, the less energy she feels. Nina opens her eyes slowly and finds that she's lying on her back, perfectly tucked in with her arms over the sheets. She feels her fingers touch on a paper-like texture. Nina slowly sits up, brushing her hair off her face to find a modest package on her bed.
"That came in for you."
Nina snaps her head. She exhales in relief when she finds the nurse next to the bed. Her voice is a hazy whisper.
"From who...?"
"Stark Industries." The nurse practically snorts. Nina frowns at her and fails to avoid grimacing at the attitude, both confused and uneasy.
"I've never heard of it before."
"Of course you haven't, honey. I'll be back with your dinner later." The nurse finishes off her duties. By the time Nina has contemplated enough to ask more questions, she's gone.
♔
Fingers curl when she pulls on the fold to open the package, peeking inside before her hand reaches in to take out a device. It looks like a cellphone, but... not.
She then takes out the dog tags. One reads a four digit number, the other 'I'm the Swan Queen!!'.
Both earn an apprehensive frown; both for very different reasons. Nina puts the tags down and picks up the device again. It's already online, showing a stream of text posts, videos and audio recordings.
She creases her brows and purses her lips again, fingers brushing on the buttons. A little light flickers on when she adventures into figuring their use; the words 'Recording' appear on the screen.
Some time passes before she finally speaks, leaned into the device, eyes fixed on a spot to her side.
" Hello?"
WHERE: A hospital.
WHEN: Between the night of February the 15th (Tuesday) and February the 19th (Saturday).
WARNINGS: Spoilers, maybe? What else is new.
SUMMARY: A telling of several moments that take place during her stay at the hospital, leading up to her first network post.
FORMAT: Solo.
As soon as Nina realizes she's there, her senses collapse. She's only vaguely aware of the things happening, hands holding her up and voices surrounding her in a busy hurry, but she can't see faces or understand words. Maybe they're asking her questions, maybe they're telling her what to do, maybe they're not talking to her at all.
She's cold and tired. The doctors believe that she has lost a lot of blood. The blur of strong white lights and movement around her give place to total darkness and exhaustion when she finally closes her eyes.
(She hears a soft giggle.)
♔
Nina wakes up with a gasp.
The room is silent as soon as she realizes where she is. Her back relaxes into the hospital bed while she looks around and tries to remember why and how she got there, muscles stretching with a small grunt and shut eyes.
The image of a man offering her a cigarette and of her entering the hospital come to mind. She looks down at her hand to find a wristband with no name. Nina frowns and finally sits up, brushing her hair off her face before she notices her bloodied Odette outfit has been replaced by a hospital gown.
She makes a little sound when she exhales. Her muscles relax. Nina is tired, so tired, and still cold.
♔
She tries to remember those last moments before she woke up next to the machine, hoping it can somehow explain. Only the final act of the performance comes to mind, then the stage lights obfuscating and fading into white along with the memory of Thomas holding her face.
Nina looks down and places a hand on her stomach. She remembers spotting the bloodstain on her outfit before the final act with a strange feeling of detachment from that moment. All she knows for certain is that she felt completely at peace with it back then, accomplished and so... free.
Nina can remember being so sure that she had finally shed the perception of reality that had blended and intertwined and distorted everything until it made her unrecognizable. She remembers being prepared to accept her death upon the final delivery of a perfect performance.
The memory of it just makes her feel scared and disgusted. It seems so askew when she thinks about it, almost as surreal as the both familiar and foreign floor beneath her feet and the cold, white walls around her, void of human presence or comfort.
Tears roll down her cheeks, afflicted and overwhelmed and alone.
♔
"We just need to ask you some questions."
She nods, softly, parting her lips with knitted brows. "Yes?"
"What's your name?"
"Nina. Nina Sayers."
"Are you an imPort, Ms. Sayers?"
Silence. She looks up at the nurse, still drowsy and confused, making a little sound before the reply. "A what?"
"Are you from this dimension."
"... I don't understand."
The nurse shakes her head with an exhale, writing away on the form. She puts the papers down for a moment, checks on a couple of things, then delivers some more information to the girl about her current condition.
Nina's gaze drifts away in thought. As the nurse is about to leave, she raises her voice, quickly retracting her tone in embarrassment.
"--I'd like to make a call. Please."
♔
Nina sits on the chair next to her bed, metallic with white plastic pads, tinged by age. Her elbows are resting on her knees while her left hand holds the receiver, teeth chewing on her free hand's nails after she dials the number, frowning, shaking her leg.
...
"Hello?"
There's a beat; the voice isn't exactly accurate, but it's recognizable enough to make the girl believe she reached the number. Nina smiles a little, her tone just as hopeful as it is fearful. "Mom?"
"... Who is this?"
Despite the question, Nina finds the tone to be unlike her mother's. Surprise and hesitation make her go quiet for moments.
"... It's me." Her voice is a little weaker. "Nina."
"... I'm pretty sure you have the wrong number, Miss."
"--oh. I'm sorry."
When she hangs up, she waits for a few seconds. She considers the possibility that she got the number wrong, running the digits and placement of her fingers through her head. She finally decides to try again, a little more careful (and nervous) this time.
Nina's eyes look ahead when she hears the same voice. There's no way she made the same mistake twice, but the voice on the other hand continues to claim otherwise. She exhales and quickly hangs up the phone.
♔
Nina lies on her side, fingers curling on the sheets. She notices that her fingernails are getting long again.
She's been told that she is being discharged. With no place to go, no clothes to wear and no one she can reach, she can only think of the stranger she found (or did he find her?). The more she thinks about him, the more she questions his intentions, brushing him out of her already narrow list of possibilities.
She's alone. The more she thinks about it, the more she gives place to the belief that she's dead.
Or that none of what she remembers is real.
Nina cries herself to sleep.
(She dreams about the third act.)
♔
The more she sleeps, the less energy she feels. Nina opens her eyes slowly and finds that she's lying on her back, perfectly tucked in with her arms over the sheets. She feels her fingers touch on a paper-like texture. Nina slowly sits up, brushing her hair off her face to find a modest package on her bed.
"That came in for you."
Nina snaps her head. She exhales in relief when she finds the nurse next to the bed. Her voice is a hazy whisper.
"From who...?"
"Stark Industries." The nurse practically snorts. Nina frowns at her and fails to avoid grimacing at the attitude, both confused and uneasy.
"I've never heard of it before."
"Of course you haven't, honey. I'll be back with your dinner later." The nurse finishes off her duties. By the time Nina has contemplated enough to ask more questions, she's gone.
♔
Fingers curl when she pulls on the fold to open the package, peeking inside before her hand reaches in to take out a device. It looks like a cellphone, but... not.
She then takes out the dog tags. One reads a four digit number, the other 'I'm the Swan Queen!!'.
Both earn an apprehensive frown; both for very different reasons. Nina puts the tags down and picks up the device again. It's already online, showing a stream of text posts, videos and audio recordings.
She creases her brows and purses her lips again, fingers brushing on the buttons. A little light flickers on when she adventures into figuring their use; the words 'Recording' appear on the screen.
Some time passes before she finally speaks, leaned into the device, eyes fixed on a spot to her side.
" Hello?"