Cristina Yang (
deaddadsclub) wrote2018-08-18 03:27 pm
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MHA #5, Saturday afternoon
Well, it had happened. Cristina had finally given up on leaving the island any time soon and signed a lease on an apartment. She'd skipped her clinic shift to do it, even.
She'd had to, since she'd managed to buy several rooms' worth of furniture on the Isle of Ikea this week.
As far as coping mechanisms went, skipping work and furnishing an apartment via impulse shopping was fairly low-key for her. She wasn't lying on the floor of an OR shaking or catatonic, and she'd stopped just being drunk 24/7, so she thought she was doing pretty well.
And ordering around the Ikea delivery people was soothing in its own way, too.
[open! MHA folks, come say hi to your new neighbor]
She'd had to, since she'd managed to buy several rooms' worth of furniture on the Isle of Ikea this week.
As far as coping mechanisms went, skipping work and furnishing an apartment via impulse shopping was fairly low-key for her. She wasn't lying on the floor of an OR shaking or catatonic, and she'd stopped just being drunk 24/7, so she thought she was doing pretty well.
And ordering around the Ikea delivery people was soothing in its own way, too.
[open! MHA folks, come say hi to your new neighbor]
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Weird everything was kind of the norm, but that was true for this whole island. Though she was willing to bet that most people didn't have their axes lined up by size in the hallways leading to their bedroom. Or have a spare room just for mice.
"Uhh so...how are you about noise?"
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"I'm used to sleeping in on-call rooms," Cristina said. "Between the intercom, the pages, and other people's sex-dramas, that pretty much means I can sleep through anything."
Sure, she was also usually dead on her feet when she did that, but still. . . .
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"Oh cool," Verity said, looking relieved. "Sometimes there's, uhh, cheering from my place."
And chanting, but there was no way that wouldn't sound weird.
"I'll try to keep it down, but you know how it can get."
...with pathologically religious cryptid mice that worshipped your family as gods?
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Yeah, Cristina had been here long enough to know that probably wasn't it. But she could dream. . . .
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So that was, y'know, like a yes? If you squinted?
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The life and death stakes were for her other calling.
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"Well, I'm not always around when it airs," she hedged. "So it could be pretty random. If w--I'm making too much noise, just bang on a wall or something. It'll quiet right down."
The mice had been spoiled by not having anyone around. They'd need to remember subtlety. Or, more accurately, learn it for a first time.
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So sure. Relaxing!
"I'll keep that in mind," she said. "Or maybe come over to join the festivities."
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"Just, uhh, give me a head's up so I'm wearing pants," she said, leaving out the part where she'd also be herding the mice into their room. "And feel free to throw popcorn at me when I start overanalyzing the moves, okay?"