Bad Impressions

[Aimee Kensington]

Aimee hated black and white films. While some people found them cultural and sophisticated with their contrast of dull shades and the subtitles running across the bottom of the screen Aimee found them false interpretations. Life was meant to be in colour. Therefore movies, as an overdramatised version of life, were too meant to be in colour. Black and white films just couldn’t capture the raw emotions that came with the vibrant tones of red, green, yellow and blue. Coloured represented more than just what light an object absorbed and reflected. It symbolised feelings of passion, suppression and sheer moments of ultimate happiness where everything gleamed in an array so vicious it was blinding.

In the movies taking drugs launched you into a magical wonderland where all moments and feelings were magnified, blown up like a balloon just under explosion point. Everything went faster, the feeling of life at its finest pulsed through your body. You felt truly alive and at some point invincible. As though you could take on the whole world and still be back in time for lunch, another victory tucked under your belt. Everything was funnier, smarter and laughter echoed through the room, at thoughts so dumb they would have deserved nothing more than a characterised role of the eyes. Aimee had never taken drugs, had never experienced the rush or the plummet. She had never felt the craving for pot or the untouchable feeling it left you. She had never even been tempted. She assumed that that came with seeing first hand what it did to people. Working in a hospital was an awakening. Right from the very first moment you decided you wanted to become a healer, to be involved in the medicine field, you had to work your ass off but there were benefits, money being one of them, personal satisfaction and knowledge. You had to be a certain type of person to succeed in medicine, competitive, strong and often, detached. You couldn’t get attached to your patients, couldn’t form bonds and what was work had to remain as work. That was Aimee’s problem.

Habit had left Aimee torn. She was indecisive when it concerned anything, a fault, a flaw, call it what you will but it was never helpful. Regardless of the choice at hand Aimee struggled with it; whether it be the movie to pick for the weekend or what procedure to use in an emergency. Right now it was between letting the boy who had arrived late, leave her watchful eyes.

She weighed it up. Fisk hurt, Fisk need attention, Fisk unable to begin training nor rounds until Fisk is ‘fixed.’ Vs Aimee is not in a good mood and he was late.

She nodded to Lynne.

“Take him, use force if necessary.”

Aimee then looked to Ballard Fisk and ignoring the cute grin that played on his face sent him a narrow stare. She needed to look in charge, together, intimidating if she had to. She just needed this guy to toughen up and become what was needed for succeeding. She wanted to help someone like Tobias had helped her. She wanted to see success branch from under her instruction. She wanted what she had for Ballard.

“You are to get checked out by Ms Butler, you are not to leave her sight. Understood?”

The real problem here was having to document on his records that on his first day he showed up a wreck and late.

It was then Carrie choose to make her appearance. Without a word Aimee could see she was exhausted emotionally and physically but the smile beaming across the blondes face challenged that. Aimee just knew Carrie too well, one could say.

“Well good morning to you too cheery. How long have you been working exactly?”

Aimee shook her head. She knew Carrie was as addicted as she was, totally determined to do anything within her power and more, a tad too stubborn to leave when she was asked and then ordered. There was no way Carrie would be down here unless someone had threatened her.


[[Not my best.
-Pouts-
But I've written...FOUR posts this afternoon. Lucky I don't have any homework!]]

[Carrie Martin]

my post
-prods-
I believe so...
-snicks-
shall do so...eventually

[Carrie Martin]

Carrie Martin was one of the unlucky few who did not know the definition of STOP. Of course this posed a problem. In early years, teachers would always tell Carrie to stop playing, and take a nap.(This also being an early example of Carrie's ability to stay awake at odd hours). As she grew and she went into Hogwarts, the word stop was all to frequent, and got her in trouble with the administrators. Upon asking what they meant, they'd merely say "stop means stop." "Why stop?" she'd ask. Well, the certainly didn't have an answer, so she wasn't exactly going to follow through with their demands. When she was driving, stop signs didn't exist, and now, in her work place, she was finding it hard to stop her job. Her hands needed to be doing something, her body was ready to wheel a cart down the hall, or wave a wand; her lips ready to say a chant. At this point in time, she had no purpose in functioning outside of saying lives. And it was so she found herself feeling like she was in a fairytale, unable to control what was going on, despite her desperate urges to. So why not answer Lynne's question in the same absurd manner which she felt?

"Well, lets see. The white rabbit ran by and of course I had to chase it, you know I just look adorable in blue. Then I fell down the rabbit hole and ended up here. So for the most part...I'm alright."

She smiled at Lynne, a smile that usually made heads turn. And it did. She glanced over to find the boy-with-no-name starring at her, before he lowered his gaze, whether it be out of uncertainty or respect, she did not know. But what she did know, was that he was cute. Adorable. Not like a puppy either...like...more like Brad Pitt or some other muggle star who you simply wanted to tackle all for yourself. Carrie smiled to herself, and resisted. As if she didn't already have enough guys in her life already. Darcy and Ben were about all she could handle. She looked to Aimee, who seemed to be peeved at this guy who was just standing there, bleeding. She tossed her a look as if to say 'Oh, common Aims. He's to cute to be mad at, and its his first day. Lighten up.' Carrie took personal credit for making Aimee less stick-up-the-butt-ish and more of a relaxed/sophisticated girl who knew how to have a good time, but there were still boundaries which her best friend refused to break in the work place. However, she did find it ironic how she was coming down on this guy for being late, when Aimee herself had been late only a day or two ago. She snickered, but decided to keep it to herself.

"So you must be the new trainee. I'm Caroline Martin, Healer on the second floor. And because you are late, you don't get to call me Carrie."

She smiled reassuringly to show him she thought he was an OK guy, but she knew not to say anything else. Always back your best friend up, no matter how cute the new trainee was. How long ago had it been that Carrie and Aimee had scoped out the new trainee's on their breaks? I guess its different when you have your own trainee. She pouted a bit. Ben still refused to give her a trainee, no matter how much pouting, flirting, and whining she got. Like STOP, Carrie was not a friend to the word NO. Ben felt that, while Carrie was quite qualified for her job, she still had a little growing up to do before she got a trainee. He had even confessed he was afraid that she would scare it away, kill it, in a sense.

"It's not a pet, Carrie. Its an actual human being who actually wants to be here...not a patient who was forced here."

"I know that Ben! Look, you were my age when you trained me, and I turned out fine..."

"Hm...you did. But that was because I was doing my best to impress you the whole time. Did it work?"

"Ask me later when I'm not sulking."

She was torn out of her memory by the acknowledgement of her best friend. No matter how much her day sucked, being around Aimee made it suck...well...less. Her best friend knew what buttons not to push, and how to hceer her up. And also apparently had Carrie-sense that were tingling. Aimee's face read all-knowing, a card that Carrie wish she had to stow away in her back pocket. How long? Good question. Truth be told she'd stopped counting after her last brief minute-long break which was...yesterday. Hm...Curiouser and curiouser. But she couldn't tell Aimee that. She would get a lecture, or at the least, a face from the collection that Aimee had stored away to pull on Carrie if she was bad, or sad, or even tired. One of Aimee's famous faces and Carrie would crumble into her will. She was just that powerful.

"How late? Um...two hours?"

She said hopefully, her voice rising at the last two words. Aimee's face looked unimpressed, and Carrie's shoulders fell.

"Ok, so I'm about as good as a liar as Mr. Fisk. The last time I checked, it was twenty-eight hours."

[Lynne Butler]

( I'm sorry I've been absent for such long periods of time. I'm trying my best to be more active. )

Use force if necessary. She replayed that phrase through her mind, evaluating it. Lynne wordlessly pondered what kind of force she could possibly muster while pregnant, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to such a situation. It’d be quite a sight, though, her playing tug-o-war with a beaten-up trainee. It’d raise questions in the workplace. At the same time, that wouldn’t be the strangest thing that happened at St. Mungo’s on a daily basis (old men walking naked through the hall and singing nursery rhymes, Lockhart signing autographs on people’s rears with crayons...) , so Lynne blocked it out of her mind and gave a solemn nod in response. This felt like a kindergarten field trip with Aimee telling Ballard to stay within close proximity to her. She could just imagine someone instructing everyone to hold hands and don’t talk to strangers on their way to the patient rooms. Lynne bit her lip to keep back a guffaw of idiotic laughter. She hoped her dumb sense of humor was a side effect of carrying a baby.

Lynne tilted her head at a slight angle when Carrie responded to her question. The girl needed rest, that’s what her rabbit statement told her, but Lynne estimated it’d take a tranquilizer dart for her to settle. “I’m glad to hear it, Alice in Wonderland.” Lynne winked at her. After brief observation and the catch of the gazes between "Alice" and the trainee, Lynne’s eyebrows faintly rose, but she kept her lips sealed, subtly taking a step or two backwards towards the patient rooms. She was uncertain whether or not he wanted to exchange a few words with her, so she decided to stand nearby until he got a hold of himself. Hormones raged in the youngins and not one person could change that except Mother Nature.

A twenty-eight hour workday, however, shattered Lynne’s silence.
I mean, really. Holy sh-t.

Lynne’s eyebrows furrowed a small amount in concern. “Carrie, you’re such a good girl. I’d hate to see sleep deprivation affect that wonderful personality.” No matter the odd hours someone at St. Mungo’s worked, there had to be a well thought out plan when it came to sleep. If you didn’t have a pattern, it’d mess you up a good deal. It was dangerous living. Though it wasn’t affecting Carrie now, it surely would in the future, even though it was impossible to imagine with her vigor. Sean would surely classify this as "typical Lynne nosiness" but that was just one of the reasons Lynne wanted to bash his face in with a frying pan. There was a difference between helping someone/being concerned and invading on one's own business. It was borderline, and sometimes Lynne did teeter over that. But she didn't believe herself to be doing that this time around.