Visage [cai]

[Clover]

Cobwebs formed a second skin along the interior of the hallway window. Even with the cobwebs, the window offered the best view of the city, where buildings stretched as far as the eye could see. There were four seats situated around an end table, each one covered in yellowed plastic and layers of red, blue, and black crayon. If most of the patients weren’t gathered in the cafeteria, they would have flocked to the best seat in the house, but they were still stuffing their faces with what looked like regurgitated dog food. Clover had skipped mealtime.

Pulling at the cuff of her long-sleeved shirt, she reached out to free the webs from in front of the glass and along the windowsill. The dirt stained a little circle of her blue, long-sleeved shirt a sickly shade of grey; however, the windowsill looked cleaner than it had in years, and she could actually make out the people on the streets below. She saw the names on billboards and the individual windows on buildings. She felt closer to the outside world.

“Campbell?” The nurse called out her last name as he approached. He had two paper cups in hand, one for water and one for her evening pills. She placed her journal and colored pencils aside, readily accepting her medication. “You skipped mealtime again. I’m going to have to report this to the doctor,” the man frowned.

“Give me decent food and I’ll eat. Ever heard of a bacon cheeseburger?” She rolled her eyes, offering him two empty cups. He snatched them from her and waited for her to open her mouth. The pills were gone, so he turned and went back toward the cafeteria.

As soon as he entered the cafeteria, Clover used her tongue to pry the pills from behind her wisdom teeth. She spit the medicine into her open palm and shoved them behind a chair cushion, adding it to her collection. Her journal needed her attention. That night, she had a black marker. She wanted nothing more than to add a bit of art to her endless rambling. She wanted to draw faces and places along the back pages of the black-and-white speckled notebook.

Clover dipped her head, hunched over her notebook as if someone would come along and pry it from her hands. She drew an image of the nearby school, dotting the courtyard with smudged children and their awaiting parents. When she raised her head to check on an image of the building’s rooftop, she noticed a few stragglers along the sidewalk just outside of the hospital. One woman juggled paper sacks filled with boxes and cans.

Even without the cobwebs distorting the view, Clover couldn’t make out the woman’s facial expression, not with the way the wind whipped the blonde’s hair about her head. Clover put the cap back onto her marker and watched. She watched the people milling about as if she were watching television. Envy distorted her thoughtful expression.

[Judas]

Poe was sick. So sick in fact, that the older gentleman could barely get out of bed. That didn’t mean he didn’t try. Judas had caught him though, and had forced him to get back in bed. The thrall insisted it wasn’t anything major but Judas knew how devastated Cai would be if something had happened to his thrall. And Judas had to admit that Poe was very handy to have around so he would make sure that the thrall was cared for. So he’d pulled his coat on and went to leave only to be stopped by Tate who shoved a hat on his head, lecturing him about the effects the lighting would have on him. He’d forgotten about that so rather grudgingly he accepted the hat.

“Pushy woman,” he grumbled to himself as the door of the crypt slammed behind him. “Pushy ginger fried deliciousness. Good thing Cai’s fond of you. Totally would have shoved you into the zombies.” He wouldn't have of course as he was just as fond of her as Cai was. Besides she was useful to have around as she had just proved with the hat. That wasn’t something he would have thought of. Point for fried deliciousness.

He didn’t linger in the graveyard as he normally would, Poe’s condition forcing his feet to move at a faster pace. Judas had used the computer before leaving, looking on that Web MD place for the symptoms that Poe was experiencing. The flu, or so the website had told him. There wasn’t much to be done for it other than bed rest and lots of fluids. Nothing in Cai’s memories had been useful. In fact the man had rarely ever been sick and that was probably a good thing. It was doubtful that Addison would have done much to care for her son, spiteful ***** that she was.

The streets were a little busy as people moved along going about their business. A scowl crossed his face. He hated large crowds of people it made him feel uncomfortable. Judas hoped that this wasn’t an indication of how busy the pharmacy would be. He got rather cranky if he was subjected to the stupidity of humans for extended periods of time. As he walked by the hospital his eyes were drawn to a window on a higher level. He could just barely make out the form of someone sitting there. A woman judging by the outline. Stopping dead in his tracks he lifted the brim of the hat to get a better glimpse of her.