sixthiterationlogs | you've been... thunderstruck

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you've been... thunderstruck

WHO: Claire Temple
WHERE: House #3, Inn, Out and About
WHEN: July 11th to end of month
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Sweet delicious coffee, injuries due to getting hit by lightning, will update!!

House #3/Inn | Anytime until 25th

"OH MY GOD WHO.. HOW.. WHEN.."

Claire's voice echoes through and out the windows of House #3 and an excited squeal follows it before she rushes through from her bedroom calling for Karen to see if she's around. She has to show someone before she changes from yoga pants into jeans and heads over to the inn to make herself a cup. Hell, she'll make whoever is there a cup if they want it. It's about time that french press made some real coffee.

Struck by Lightning - 26th - Closed to Clint

Really, Claire should have been a lot more cautious and aware since hearing about two people she knew who were struck by lightning. But she was in a rush to get back to the inn to finish helping with some dishes and before she knew it, a pain shot through her foot and travelled up the entire right side of her body.

Suddenly she couldn't breathe and moments after that she was falling into a heap on the ground and staring into the sky until an abrupt pop sounded inside her head.

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He's not a morning person by any means, but Vasquez has been living at the inn where he can get food readily and it doesn't mean he goes very far. Of course, the only problem is that he can't smoke in his room because he'd been glared at, so when he wakes up, he doesn't bother to comb his hair, stumbling downstairs with his linen shirt barely tugged over his head, wearing his scrubs bottoms and coming across a very excited Claire.

Lighting up as his foot hits the last step, he lets the cigarette dangle from his lips, giving her a curious look. "What are you so excited about? What happened?"

It's true, she was very excited and that was probably the first time in.. a really long time that she had that big of a smile on her face. If she could contain her giddiness for one minute, she would try to think back on the last time she was this happy only to come up unsure.

The state of Vasquez was rather adorable, but Claire was far too eager to show off her stash.

"Coffee, Vasquez. Look at it all. Look at it." she practically squeed before slowing down. She had to look like a mad woman and before this gift arrived she was pretty sure she would. "No has tomado café hasta que hayas tomado este tipo de café, papi. Vengaaaa."

Vasquez lets out an appreciate huff both for the 'papi', but also the adorable way she coaxes him, shaking his he as he takes the cigarette out from his lips and puts it out on his palm, tucking it behind his ear so he can save it for later.

"No sabes qué tipo de café he tenido," he says, wagging a disapproving finger at her, even if he goes with the coaxing with no trouble at all. "Café que podría quitar la pintura de las paredes."

Claire, having turned to go find the french press in the kitchen, stops and turns around again. Her dark eyes soften with mischief as she listens but she shakes her head slowly with a delicious grin.

"No has tomado mi café," she says, stepping back with one foot and then the other slowly. "Será el mejor que tuviste."

Vasquez laughs as he wanders after her, seeing as he thinks he can put aside his morning smoke if it means he's going to get coffee out of this. Also, if Claire gets so flirtatious and fun over coffee, then who is he to deny this from happening.

"Is it really that good?" he asks, switching to English as he takes a seat at the table, stretching his long legs out to sprawl and take up probably three chairs' worth of space. "I think maybe you're lying to me, si."

Claire gestures over her shoulder towards the kitchen and shrugs playfully. "Stick around and you'll find out as soon as it's ready."

She turns and saunters into the kitchen and before long, the delicious aroma of coffee fills the entire room.

He's not going anywhere, though he does think he should try and tame his hair a little. Slicking a little saliva on his palm, he tries to make his sticking-up hair behave as he yawns deeply and wanders to the counter to sit on it, slouched over. "And how long is this coffee of yours going to last?" he wonders.

If everyone smells it the same as him, then he imagines that it won't be very long at all before it's all gone.

She grins as she makes her way over to the counter to set things up. They only have the french press but it does the job even if it is a little more involved than using a regular percolator.

"I got a lot of it so I'd say awhile," she replies, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Anyway, I just got it this morning so once this is gone, that's it."

Unless you want to come over to her house to get some.

"You just had to feel very nice and come give it to us?" Vasquez smirks a little, because there's a comment or two he's not making about Claire's need to come make other people happy, but it suits him right now. "That means you're not going to come see me every morning and make me coffee?"

Hand over his heart like that hurts enough to have caused a pain, Vasquez shakes his head. "You wound me, Claire, you do."

Good thing Claire knows when there's a play going on and though he's even more handsome while doing it, she can't resist shaking her head to play her part - clearly not buying it.

"That just means you have to get off that fine ass of yours and visit me at my place."

Suggestive? Maybe a little.

Vasquez is happy to play stupid for this, shifting off the counter so that he can give his own ass a smack in the sweatpants he's been wearing, staring at it for a long moment as he considers it with narrowed eyes. "It is very nice," he agrees, before turning a sleepy, but heated look on her.

"Let me try some of that coffee, then we'll decide," he barters, as if he hasn't already made up his mind about visiting her.

After his mental ragequit at the start of the month from the network name and the utterly cruel item left in his room at the house, it had taken Clint several days to get back out there and be a part of the life of the community again. Even he'd gotten sick of his moping, which was a large part of why he'd decided to just brazen it out. So they wanted to expose all his secrets, huh? Fine. He still had a job to do and other people to look after.

The storms had made that difficult, though. It was chasing a lot of the game back into their nests and burrows earlier than they would go on clear days, and that meant more time spent out in the field trying to shoot them. Clint had been having a harder time finding game than normal, part of why he wanted to train more hunters, but this was the first day in awhile he just hadn't found anything. Maybe it was because he hadn't brought Arado with him, but he wasn't about to subject his dog to that torrent of rain, nor was he about to subject his house to the smell of soaked fur.

It turned out to be a good thing, though. As he made his way through the center of town, he saw someone lying on the ground, twitching slightly, and he immediately burst into a run at the sight. As he got closer, it became really obvious that it was Claire, and he had to choke down a moment of panic. She'd collapsed the month before, too - had it happened again? Not caring about his clothes (they were already soaked anyway), Clint fell into a controlled slide next to her, carefully lifting her head out of the dirt and mud and trying to see if she was bleeding or curled up in pain or anything else that was obvious. "Claire? Claire, what happened?"

As soon as Clint finds her face under the length of her brown hair, he'll see her painfully trying to catch her breath in ragged gasps, trying hard to form words while not really knowing what she is trying to say. This is pain she will never forget.

She looks up at him, one bare arm flopping back out and on the underside was the start of an unusual pattern; one that looks like an electrical current. That, coupled with the blood oozing out of her ear canal might tell Clint the answer to his question.

But even then Claire was finally catching her breath and finally able to get some words out.

"Lightning. Get me.. out of here."

Edited 2018-07-13 02:43 (UTC)

The scarring and the blood are telling clues; he'd seen electrocutions before, but not to this extent. He'd obviously known people could be struck by lightning, but it was a rare occurrence, and even Thor's lightning didn't do this kind of damage. Of course, Thor almost never used the lightning on people, just on the mindless mobs they'd faced as a team or people with some sort of power that couldn't be immediately killed by it, so it probably wasn't a fair thing to judge this reaction on.

"R- Right. I'll get you inside, get someone to look you over." His brain shoots into overdrive, processing possibilities, pros and cons, and there's several options but one immediately reads to him as "best" - take her back to his house. It's not far away, just up the road a few hundred meters, they have a spare bed and a bathroom she can clean up in, and most importantly Bev is there which means a doctor can actually do something about her condition. The hospital is close by but there's not always a medical person there and he doesn't want to leave her alone while he hunts one up. (The thing around his wrist and all its capabilities is temporarily forgotten as the habits of more than a year reassert themselves, even with the mess they've made of his life and mental health lately.) Clint shifts Claire's body first onto his knees to give him a better leverage angle, and then slides his hands and arms securely below her to lift her to his chest and push himself to his feet. The end of the bow digs into his elbow awkwardly but he isn't thinking of his comfort at all on this journey, and he trudges up the road to the house.

When he gets there, he kicks the door, waiting for someone to open it, because he's absolutely not putting her down. The four that live there are all active people, but there's pretty much always someone actually in the building simply due to differing schedules. For good measure he calls out, "Hey, someone get the door!" in a voice loud enough to potentially startle Claire.

Even in the haze of white-hot pain, Claire is able to piece it all together to make that assumption. She'd seen only two cases of it back in her world and in her ER but heard plenty other stories of direct and indirect lightning hits. She also had seen enough electrocutions, too, to make the most accurate diagnosis.

And now she was the patient. Again. That seems to internally piss her off the most.

Claire does her best not to pass out, but there's a lot of pain going through her and it takes a lot to focus on the other things around her, like Clint's voice which does manage to surprise her enough to jerk slightly.

She hears another voice, a woman's, before another sharp pop in her ear has Claire's face scrunching up. She had no strength but as soon as he sets her down, her eyes open and tears stream down the sides of her face.

"I can't hear properly," she tells him, her own voice blurred and distorted and sounding more inside her head. "My arm.."

The arm she is speaking of had begun to develop blisters along the patterned lines that had slowly started forming back where Clint had found her.

The other village is creepy in a whole bunch of ways, not least of which is the comparative emptiness of the Inn store room. The houses aren't hiding anything that can't be scrounged from its mirror counterpart on the populated side of the river. Evidently the majority of items piled in the Sixth Inn were not gathered from the vacant houses, meaning they were left behind by people like her. And that's creepy as hell but she's still gonna keep taking shit, thus far confronted with no reason not to.

Between Jess entering the storeroom and exiting, a percolator appears on the bar, which Jess approaches without any room in her bag for it, let alone coffee to fill it. But if there's coffee in it already, she could just take the whole thing? God, she wants coffee so bad, she's half convinced it's a mirage. A rain. mirage. Please knock her out of her stupor before she goes full Abu and brings the Cave of Wonders melting down around them.

Oh, Jessica can come check things out. She can even take a big sniff of the aromatic blend that is Claire's coffee before the nurse steps out of the kitchen area with two mugs and a big smile before she sees the private investigator.

Unfortunately, Claire had no idea she was there or even when she arrived. Then again, the nurse had some unfortunate luck over the last few weeks and well, that would be her reason for not keeping up with her fountain welcome committee duties.

"Jessica?"

Of course, it was her. There was really no mistaking her for anyone else. She looks as miserable as she expects Jessica to look given the severe lack of alcohol.

"When did you get here?"

Mind reader, Jess thinks casually, then wonders if perhaps that's the power Claire got stuck with while her lungs were filling with water. Granted, of anyone she knows from any of her several debacle, Jess would probably feel best with Claire wielding that inherently slippery slope of responsibility. But she's just being paranoid and Claire is just a decent person who's into sharing. And definitely does not deserve to be here.

"Couple weeks ago," she very nearly mumbles, shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. That arrived through mysterious circumstances (oh how she missed those) but the rest: jeans, boots, Henley, the bag slung over her shoulder; she pilfered from the storeroom within her first few days. The other stuff he's taken in the interim isn't anything so unique or useful as to be missed. Her reason for hitting the Inn today: Mostly she's grabbing rags for her shabby new house, and paper towel or anything that can be used as tissue since rain makes her nose run now. "You?"

A couple of weeks ago was a pretty long time ago around there and a month was.. well a month felt like a damn decade depending on whether things were quiet. That month definitely felt longer than it should have and that conveys when Claire nods in understanding.

"Coming up to a year," she answers, turning her attention to setting the mugs down and filling them with coffee. She didn't have the power of mind reading, but there was always someone at the inn. That and Claire heard someone coming in, presumedly because of the smell that was wafting out the windows.

Pointing at one of the mugs she asks, "You want some?"

She sure does. Whiskey will always cheat its way to the tippy top of her needs hierarchy but coffee's real high up on the list when she forces herself to think about what else she craves. Jess slips a hand out of her jacket and accepts the offer. After what Claire's done for her, a cup of coffee's a blip of a debt. In New York, her functioning repayment was to stay away from her. Which people always seem to react poorly to, for some reason.

If she got here a year ago, then odds are she can't be the Claire who took her blood for the mind control vaccine, but the heart gives a shit about what it gives a shit about and the timelines-slash-universes thing doesn't factor in.

"Thanks." Jess sips without savouring the smell or heat, burning her lips and hissing. Despite glaring into her cup, begrudging how goddamn good it is. Leaning a hip to the counter, Jess sets it there to cool for a minute.

Posing a question as a statement, she remarks, "Karen told me you're running the hospital." Obviously not using those words.

Danny had made a mental note to stop by and see Claire after the flail that was his arrival but that hadn't really happen. Adjusting was taking its toll on him and Danny was running out of logical options or ways to control his anger. He knew that there was a lot for him to learn and there was time but he felt the weight of his mission pressing uncomfortably against his shoulders. He had to wipe out the Hand.

Of course, he spent a lot of his time training and then a lot of his time around the inn, trying to find ways to help out. Sometimes it felt like he was in the way but Danny was determined.

Today he was sitting at one of the tables, thinking. Thinking was a dangerous game so it was just as well that Claire walked into the inn with an enthusiastic expression. "You look happy." He sounded really confused though she had been here for several months so likely the adjustment period was over for her.

"What do you have?"

It was her own intention to go seek him out to see how he was doing, but between getting sick and having to deal with some other things, Claire had lost the opportunity. She did, however, have plans to bring him some of the delicious coffee she was gifted short of week earlier.

Her smile brightens a little when she sees Danny she pulls the small bag out from under her arm and wiggles it. "This? This is the nectar of the gods, my friend." she says, disappearing into the kitchen.

She pokes her head back out with an adorable expression. "Coffeeee."

A low happy chuckle rumbled through Danny's chest. He was happy to see Claire so excited. In fact, it was a little cute.

He followed behind her, pushing into the kitchen in order to see where this magical substance was hiding. He didn't drink a lot of coffee but he liked it and the warm feeling he got whenever he drank it felt good.

"Got enough to share?" He asked with a warm smile and a little twinkle of excitement in his light green eyes.

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you've been... thunderstruck

Inn

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/insert AC-DC here

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inn

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Inn - 17th~ish

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