I'm trying not to sleep

[bossily]

Who: Clara & anyone! (totally open)
Where: Around the mansion
When: The week after the shadow event
Rating: TBA
Summary: When you have a terrible shadow event, it's time to stay busy to forget about it
The Story: Clara is beyond humiliated.

She's lost a great deal of her pride, she's fractured almost every single relationship she's formed in her time here, and she's at a loss as to what she needs to do to make herself feel better. So the best solution in her mind is simply not to think about it and stay busy. She can't act like any of the things her shadow said never happened, of course, but she doesn't have to linger on it. There's too much hurt there for her, and it's best to just build up some walls on the inside and close it off and away. And sleep? Forget about it, there's way too much time to have thoughts loiter on everything that went wrong, or have pesky dreams slip in, and that's definitely not something she wants to have happen.

On Tuesday, she has plans with both Luke and Owen, and despite not being up to her usual spirited nature she's grateful for the chance to interact with the both of them without shadows present.

On Wednesday, she thinks she has self-defense lessons but also spends a good portion of the day sprawled out in the sun at the beach. She's not usually a beach dweller and she doesn't usually sunbathe, but she thinks it's the perfect place to read through some Jules Verne. Journey to the Center of the Earth was a childhood favorite, and it makes her feel safe and nostalgic so she's grateful that the library has a copy on hand just waiting for her.

On Thursday, she spends her time out in the gardens, working on both drawing and painting. Her lessons with Whale have left her eager to continue practicing, working on a drawing of white roses which she has every intention of painting red by the end of the day. If someone happens across her, she's more than likely to grab hold of them and convince them to pose for her so she can attempt a more complicated subject.

Friday finds Clara holed up in the library, a stack of books on space piled up around her. She's sitting cross legged on the floor, and the pile of books towers above her, constantly wobbling as if they're about to topple at any given second. There's fiction, non-fiction, and even some picture books at her side. She started the day out reading for research but now has an old, worn copy of The Little Prince in hand. It brings back memories of her mother, and those are always good to hold onto when she's having a difficult time.

The rest of the weekend is spent either at the swimming pool or her room. The pool she's never really used before, so it's nice to just float around and stare up at nothing in particular. It's a funny feeling, just aimlessly floating, doing nothing for hours on end. She almost feels guilty for it, but it's a nice break from being cooped up in the library. When she's in her room she's working on painting her walls, trying to complete constellations for the night sky she's painted across every single wall. She's not much of an artist, but this has given her something to do in her time here, and the project is almost complete. There's even a little TARDIS painted right up above her bed.

Comments

[doctorweevil]

"Not while you're dressed as an adventurer, anyway - now, if you were wearing a leather catsuit or something, then it might be kinky." Owen winks broadly at her. "Or you might be Catwoman, I dunno. Either/or." He's actually not terribly kinky - Owen likes sex just fine as it is, no need for extras.

"Just wait till you get to the hands-on anatomy lesson," he tells her, half-expecting a slap for that.

[bossily]

And with that, the tea Clara was drinking at the exact moment is snorted down as she's taken by surprise. Her throat burns and she coughs, eyes wide as she glances up and over at him.

"Hands on? Dunno if you're ready for something like that yet." She teases, through her coughing and throat burning. She tries to smile and laugh, but it's a bit hard to do so she looks entirely awkward, but at least she didn't hit him?

[doctorweevil]

Owen is laughing, because he's kind of a prick like that - though he at least tempers it by fetching her a glass of ice water from the closet. "Sorry, didn't expect you to react like that." It's better than a slap, at least. Well, mostly. "And I'm a doctor," he adds, "I'm already quite skilled with my hands." Because he never knows when to quit, does he?

[bossily]

No, he definitely doesn't. Eyebrows arch and she bursts out laughing in disbelief that he's managed to shock her twice in less than thirty seconds. A long drink of ice water is taken, and she's looking at him as if he's the Doctor and he's done something entirely exasperating.

"Don't you dare suggest something about putting that to the test." She reaches over to lightly hit at his arm. She doesn't put any force behind it, and is smiling in amusement, so it's not much of a scolding at all.

[doctorweevil]

"Would I do something like that?" Owen tries for an innocent look, but doesn't quite make it, being Owen. "That was rhetorical, by the way," he adds, as they both know perfectly well that he would.

"Really, though, I will show you a thing or two about medicine." It's only fair, he figures, if she's going to show him how to cook. An exchange of skills, if you will.

[bossily]

"Thank you." She smirks over in his direction, not commenting on his rhetorical question in the slightest. "Doubt it's something I'll be decent at, but it's worth a shot." And she's not entirely hopeless at anything she puts her mind to doing, so she's got that going for her too. "Maybe basic first aid? Wouldn't want you to have to patch me up every time I got myself into trouble."

[doctorweevil]

"I'd rather you not need to be patched up at all," Owen comments as he helps himself to another pancake, "but all right. Things do happen, especially in this bloody madhouse. And then you'll be able to take care of anybody else who might need it, too, at least till you can get hold of a doctor." Though doctors seem to be a dime a dozen in Wonderland lately; Owen wonders for a moment if there's some sort of reason for that. It's a sobering thought, so he doesn't dwell on it.

[bossily]

"Exactly." She points out the perfection of his logic in that she'll be more useful to people here, including him, if he should ever be hurt. "I'd rather be prepared, if I'm stuck here indefinitely. I've already been in trouble on two separate occasions, and I've hardly been here any time at all."

She plucks a piece of sausage up and eats a bite from it, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. There are a lot of doctors here in Wonderland. She doubts she'll really be needed at all. But still, it won't hurt to learn.

[doctorweevil]

"Hey, the more people who aren't complete bloody idiots, the better, that's what I always say." Not that Owen's a misanthrope or anything. (He's definitely a misanthrope.) "About first aid - I'm definitely not saying you're an idiot at all," he clarifies then, realising that he might have put his foot in it just a little bit.

[bossily]

"I try." She rolls her eyes, acting entirely affronted by his remark. "Better be an idiot with training than without." She takes a large piece of pancake and shoves it in her mouth, still looking entirely put out by his comment as she chews.

She swallows, then points at him with her fork. "You better keep it strictly professional, especially if Martha's around."

[doctorweevil]

"You mean I can't flirt with both of you at the same time?" Owen pretends to be disappointed by this revelation. He's not terribly professional with Martha, either, when it comes down to it. "You're ruining all my fantasies, Clara. I'm terribly disappointed."

[bossily]

"Oh, I don't care about at the same time. In the same room? Definitely not." She shakes her head, waggling her fork in his direction as if he's terribly naughty. Which he is, and he knows it, so she's quick to drop her fork on the table and look at it as if it's just offended her even though she was the one moving it.

"Looks like you'll just have to get new fantasies. Ones that don't involve Martha and I with you in the clinic."

[doctorweevil]

Owen, to his credit, at least refrains from asking if he can have fantasies that involve Clara and Martha in his bedroom. "Well, I can't flirt with both of you at the same time if you're in different rooms," he points out reasonably. In fact, being professional is something that Owen doesn't do in general when there are attractive women in the room, much to the dismay of all the women he's ever worked with (not that many of them have complained). "But all right, I'll try my best to behave."

[bossily]

"You better." She laughs, slouching down in her chair. She can only imagine the kind of reactions he pulls out of Martha, if he acts this way toward her. Actually, that brings about a good question. "Is this how you speak to her? Martha, I mean." She cracks a grin, wondering if Martha's slaps hurt or not. She's willing to bet Owen's gotten one or two in his time of knowing her.

[doctorweevil]

"More or less, yeah." He does, after all, fancy Martha as well. "She's got a bloke back home, though," Owen explains, "and I'm pretty sure Jack would shoot me if I actually tried anything with her." So he's not quite as blatant with Martha...most of the time. Okay, some of the time.

...okay, so that's pretty much a lie, he's just as blatant with Martha. But he wouldn't try and make a move on her, nonetheless.

[bossily]

Having nothing else to say on the matter, she moves to stand up. The food is delicious, but it's quickly lost all interest with her, and she's feeling awkward just sitting there. "Teach me something now." She insists, holding out her hand, fingers waggling in a motion for him to get up and move in closer.

[doctorweevil]

Owen stands as well, taking a few steps closer to her. "What sort of thing?" he asks, chuckling a little. "There's loads of stuff to teach, even with just basic first aid." And probably plenty of things that would give him the opportunity for physical contact, too.

[bossily]

The second he's nearby, she grabs him by the wrist and tugs him in closer. For no specific reason, except so he can see that she's raising up her arm and running her fingertips down along her side.

"Well, my first week here, I encountered a man that had been shot. Or stabbed, it doesn't matter which. But I had no idea how to help him apart from holding a towel against the area to try and get the blood to stop."

Her hand pauses it's gesturing at her side, and she frowns at the memory of that. She had been horrified, but the guy had ended up living. She thinks. "Show me the right way to take care of something like that."

[doctorweevil]

"First, you've got four basic things to worry about with any major trauma," Owen starts with, ticking them off on his fingers as he goes through. "It's a checklist, ABCD: Airway, Breathing, Circulation, Disability or Deformity. Check to make sure their airway is clear; if it isn't, then turn their head to the side to help them breathe, get them to cough out the blood if they're conscious, soak it up if they aren't. If they aren't breathing, then you need to start rescue breathing, and if they haven't got a pulse, you need to perform CPR. Disability: if they're conscious, see if they can move their hands and feet, in case they've got a head or neck injury." He sounds professional for once, as he should - he is, after all, a damn good doctor.

[bossily]

"And you have time to do all that before someone bleeds to death?" It comes out on a laugh, in near disbelief, but she's genuinely curious. She thinks she'll pay too close attention to one step in that process and then ruin everything. So her mind takes in all the steps he's given her, and jumps straight toward the next most logical place to help someone with a deep wound.

"Stitches!" She takes several steps back, so she can fall and rest her back up against her bed, with her feet still touching the floor. "Those are typically doctor only sorts of things, yes?"

If not, please teach her, they seem important in a place where people keep getting themselves hurt.

[doctorweevil]

"Well, the very first thing is to call for help," he points out wryly. "Then all of that, then you have to try to control the bleeding." Owen can't help but wince a little when she asks about stitches. "Doctor only in this situation," he says firmly, taking a seat on the bed, "because someone who isn't trained can't tell what else might be the problem. If it's a gunshot wound, then the bullet might still be in there, it could have bounced around and damaged internal organs. Same problem with a puncture wound - someone's got to assess the damage first. Cover it with whatever dressing you can get, gauze or towels preferably, and apply pressure."

[bossily]

She halfway sits up, resting on her elbows. "So I did the right thing." She's incredibly pleased and relieved by that, and gives out a contented sigh. She's so very, very glad her thinking led her in the right direction and she's not entirely hopeless.

"Think that's all I've come across here, except my near drowning that one time." And obviously, she's entirely fine. "What else do you think I should know?"

[doctorweevil]

"You did," he agrees with a smile. "If it's a limb that's bleeding, you can apply pressure to certain points along the major arteries, as well, to stop the bloodflow there. Either in the arms-" and he demonstrates by pressing fingers to his upper arm- "or along the inner thigh, or the inside of the knee. Direct pressure to the wound is usually the best, though. And no tourniquets."

"Do you know CPR and rescue breathing already?" Owen asks. "Those are probably the two most important things. I mean, the mansion and the surrounding grounds are small enough that you ought to be able to get a doctor to respond to any emergency pretty quickly."

[bossily]

She looks up at him, amused suspicion written all over her face. She knows that if she asks what she wants to, it could be taken in one of quite a few different ways. So she hesitates, but figures he'll get a kick out of it and so she just goes for it. "Is this one of the things where you plan on using a hands on demonstration?"

A pause, and she falls back to lay once again, laughing. "There's such a thing as too keen, remember."

[doctorweevil]

Owen does laugh, because, well, it's a pretty safe sort of assumption to make with him. As Clara flops back on the bed, he's struck again by how pretty she is - not that she isn't attractive all the time, of course, but it really comes out when she's laughing or smiling (which is a good deal of the time anyway, for Clara). Yeah, he might have a bit of a problem here.

"I'm not!" he protests. "Well, all right, I'm probably too keen quite a lot of the time, but I'm being totally professional about this. There are dummies for that sort of thing - actual dummies, before you make any cracks about my intelligence. You have to use them for CPR, else you run the risk of breaking someone's ribs while you're learning. And they're good for both things."