harper sloane

It wasn’t hard for James to recognize the young woman from both occasional visits to the infirmary (a guard’s job was never without a few bumps and bruises) and Luna’s itself.  But the very last thing he’d want to do now is talk about medicine, regardless of her position in the medical community. “Trust me, medical talk is not how I enjoy to spend my free time.” He spent far too much time around the infirmary as it was in his opinion - especially when his brother chose to avoid his gaze and complete ignore his existence at any chance. Like James was there just to make him angry or something…

At her question he smirked, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “Better than some, I guess,” his head canted in her direction, enough to indicate her damp locks that framed her face. “Getting pretty bad out there? It was only just starting when I got off shift.” 

“No?” A wry grin held its place long after the bottle parted her lips, the comforting aftertaste of hops lingering. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be surprised to hear that yours is a pretty popular opinion.” Sometimes people liked to hear the stories. It was easier back home--back on Earth 1--where a story could stand to be a little more anonymous. On the colony, it was a little easier to identify which carno attack victim cried like a child on their way to the dentist over a simple tetanus vaccination. Grown men would suffer a festering wound sooner than they’d look down the eye of a vaccination needle.

“JESUS--” She cursed in agreement at his prompting, haze dropping quickly to her jacket which was saturated still. With a frown, Harper peeled off the sleeves and hung the coat from a hook underneath the bar. “--I’m just lucky it didn’t soak through.” The jeans were damp from the knees down, sure, but a few beers and a hot meal would turn her around. “It’s becoming quite the storm out there. I’ve half a mind to camp out here.” Delicate fingers turned the shot glass around in place as she pondered the shot before it was down the hatch. “Would’ve stayed at the infirmary, but--you know--no beer.” She dangled the half empty bottle between thumb and middle finger for emphasis. “You're guard patrol, right? How’d you luck out?”

It wasn’t often than James found himself seeking out the comforts of sitting at a bar, but there was a moment here and there where grabbing a beer after a long night was exactly what was in order. Tonight just so happened to be one of those nights. While Luna’s Tavern had a reputation for bar brawls and late night alcoholics, it served up some good food, had a pretty decent selection of liquors, and didn’t even cost too much out of the pocket. Perfect for a quick meal and a beer or two before turning in for the night. 

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted someone making their way through the crowd, looking for an open seat. “This one’s open,” He offered, kicking the stool beside him out a couple inches before taking another sip of the drink set before him.

Harper had made herself a Luna’s regular long before she’d become acquainted with half the colony as her patients. Off shift early despite the raucous downpour of rain, she couldn’t bring herself to crawl home and listen to the steady pattering of raindrops on rooftops. After checking in with Parker, she pulled up her hood over her braided hair, shoved her fists into the pockets of her parka, and made her way to the bar that sometimes felt like more of a home than a house could--though still slightly less than an infirmary did. Even on nights like these, where she’d lost a few patients in the span of a short shift, she’d choose the infirmary over most places.

Stealing a glance through the crowd between damp tendrils of hair, Harper pulled back the hood with a frown on her face. It seemed that nearly half the town had made similar plans and she had half a mind to return from before some drunk maintenance guy tried to show her his rash for the upteenth time that week. Instead, she resigned herself to stay long enough to dry off before heading out again. 

Approaching the bar through the density of the crowd, Harper smirked at the invitation. “Thank fuck for chivalry.” Her tone was ironic, but the appreciation wasn’t. “But if you ask me any medical questions I’m out.” Curling a finger at the bartender, she ordered some fries, a beer, and a shot of whiskey. Both drinks had her name on them before she’d even finished her shift. “Staying dry?” She asked, turning to look at the man who’d given her a place to sit among the others still searching for a seat.

“That’s too bad.. we’ve got dozens and dozens of ‘em now…” Addison remarked offhandedly about the children and all the ones that’d come through the portal in the last two pilgrimages. She didn’t have an aversion to kids, per se, but she was convinced that she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body. whether that was true or not had yet to be determined, but she wasn’t planning on popping out any little humans any time soon, so it was easy not to think about. Her job rarely had her interacting with children for more than a few minutes anyways, as even jobs inside peoples home Addison requested that they not be present in the room. She liked her quiet while working, and while she definitely encourage questioning young minds, she figured that was what school was for. 

“Really? Damn, now I seem weird..” Addison smiled. Her parents had certainly doctored up her and her brother plenty of times when they were young, and even if that wasn’t what she’d been implying, it did bring some fond memories back to life. Having a doc as a dad was useful when you were a little on that liked to get into things you weren’t supposed to. “Good riddance, to be honest,” she grinned in response, knowing full well that her own personality could deter plenty of people, not only boys. She nodded in response to the next remark about watching someone else, and was happy to keep her eyes closed while she felt everything Harper had described to her. Pinching and burning, not Addison’s favorite sensations. Probably no ones favorites of course, though that could be a very interesting kink.. it wouldn’t be one she would participate in. 

Her strange train of thought got kept her distracted enough while Harper worked, and Addison was definitely relieved when it was over. She didn’t even peek until she head the gloves coming off, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, nurse Sloane. Two days.. I could probably manage that..” She agreed with another nod, turning to look at her hand with interest. She’d done a good job as far as Addison could tell, though she’d expect no less from the seasoned nurse. She rose from her seat and took a couple of steps towards the door at Harper’s words, her fallen expression lighting up once more when the offer of a getting a drink a Luna’s was brought up. Addison rarely turned down such an invitation, and it coming from Harper made it that little bit more enticing. “I think I we both deserve one after all of this,” she agreed, trying not to sound too eager as she waited by the door. “What’s your drink of choice, anyway?”

“They’re fine when they’re sick, but I don’t know how to do the day-to-day stuff.” Harper sighed, pushing a smile through the instinctive frown that came with the weight of losing a child one was responsible for. Her sister--not a daughter--but the damage was painful enough. That grief had destroyed everything it touched and sometimes Harper wondered if Parker was the only one of the Sloane bunch who’d TRULY made it out alive. “That’s what the daycare folks’re for though, right?"

“Now you seem weird?” A smirk accompanied the retort. Brows drew together in farcical confusion as Harper tapped her wrist wear a watch might’ve fit. “As in, only just now?” Her lips curled further into the grin. Grabbing her leather jacket and a small satchel, that mostly contained medical supplies over personal items, she slipped the jacket over her arms. It always felt good to pull something aside from scrubs over her body. “Well, you have to be pretty weird to survive in AT, right?” Half Stepford, half Aliens the place was practically a work of science fiction. Harper suspected no one normal ( or, perhaps, no one good and normal ) survived there.

“You can get into a whole lot of trouble in two days. Should be enough time that you don’t get bored and start wishing you were back at work.” As it stood, Harper rarely took days off. Aside from her sister, she hadn’t really made many connections with people outside of providing healthcare--which made for superficial relationships at best. The other residents of alia terra were primarily acquaintances to her, which suited Harper just fine. She’d been too invested in her old community and when she’d left it had broken her heart. Hearts could only break if you let them. It was good, at least, to get out. “I’d agree.” Harper nodded as they made their way out of the infirmary. “But I’d agree that I’d earned one even if I’d done nothing remarkable all day, so I’m not sure what that’s worth.” Thoughtfully, she mulled over the answer. “I like whiskey, vodka. Not really that picky to be honest. Beer is as fine as anything else. And you?”

Once he was sanitized, Owen felt himself flexing his arm and hand, checking for himself the extent of the gash’s healing. Not that he didn’t trust Harper’s opinion- he  did, and with good reason- it was just an automatic response. The smallest amount of pain, almost like a bruise, accompanied the movement, but it wasn’t splitting, wasn’t gushing blood. Adequate. The type of descriptor that USUALLY accompanied his field medical skills. Not pretty, not particularly in depth, but adequate for anything not requiring a specialty. Besides, sewing himself up was something he’d always thought would be difficult, but in practice was actually cathartic. Something about the action summoned a great sense of pride in Owen, something akin to nostalgia. Something that brought about the idea that maybe his dad would be proud.

If nothing else was true, one thing was certain: Owen genuinely ENJOYED watching Harper work, even if it meant being near or inside the hospital. She held herself in such confidence that it was hard not to. The way she spoke, stood, sat, worked… everything SCREAMED nurse, triumphantly shouted just how competent the woman was, and yet she never seemed haughty about it. She never criticized people for getting hurt, how they got that way, or what they did in the moment to try to fix it. She just took what she was given and went from there. It was almost inspirational. Owen couldn’t think of a single time, in the many times he’d had to ask her to sign off on him, that she ever commented on the decisions he’d made to get him there. No ‘this splint could be better,’ no ‘you should’ve waited for a doctor.’ It was probably one of the reasons he tended to wait for her shift to even attempt to go to the hospital.

As he sat and waited, he was surprised to find Harper willing enough to JOKE that she’d waste a couple pieces of letterhead for the punchline. “This is… uh…” but then she handed him the “official” sign off, which he folded and pocketed easily. “I dunno, I like this one-” he added, grabbing up the first note as well. “I think my CO will appreciate that my cut is totally rad, makes it more impressive I even SURVIVED.” Surprising, how Owen could easily joke around her. It didn’t happen often.

Harper smiled softly at Owen testing out his arm after the removal. There were two different kinds of patients, with a spectrum in between two poles: people who wanted to get better and people who wanted to wallow. Owen certainly belonged to the former. Harper didn’t fault patients who were more DEMONSTRATIVE with their complaints, but people like Owen certainly made her job easier. Granted, folks who swung too far his direction could make things harder as well. Too many rangers were too proud to get the help they needed in a timely manner. Thankfully, his medical background seemed to make him, as far as Harper was concerned, less reckless--a HAPPY MEDIUM.

If there were those who thought they had to venture outside the gates for danger and excitement, they need only look in the infirmary or in their own houses. The traumas were the exciting ones, for sure, but people hadn’t lost the illnesses of Earth One when they made the pilgrimage. People still lost fingers from wedding rings on maintenance gigs, appendixes still ruptured, and people still hurt each other in the same ways ( some even found NEW ONES ). Even the more mundane sounding procedures could be as exciting as an allo attack, depending on the severity. If the older folks in the colony were afraid that the jungle would claim their lives, it was sepsis, heart failure, and a bouquet of chronic illnesses that would likely lead to the final nail in their coffins.

“Well, you know, sometimes you’ve got to appreciate a good lac when you got it.” Harper said reassuringly. “I mean it would be pretty damn boring if you survived a mundane, unremarkable wound--right?”

“Is that so? You, my dear, must be an incredible actress. Maybe you’re not meant for either of those professions- I mean, the children do like to put on plays, perhaps you could be their leading lady?” Addison replied with a smirk. “And, ya know… when I was a kid at least, ‘playing doctor’ had nothing to do with actual needles…” she might’ve gone too far with that one, Addison could never tell, but whether she did manage to irk the other woman or not, she was still at Harper’s mercy considering the situation. “Mm… I’m not a huge fan of the whole needles through skin thing, but if it’s more impressive to stare at your handiwork during the process then I’ll change my answer,” she told her, setting her face into a mask of indifference just in case. 

“I could happily take tomorrow off, but any longer than that and I’ll go stir crazy. so light work it is,” she smiled, seeing that the nurse could clearly tell that any instructions she’d give for no work would likely be ignored. It was definitely easier than coming back in three days for a lecture, and Addie could deal with gloves for a while. She shook her head at the question, “I’m pretty sure holding up this shit show of a hand will do the trick, though if the lovely boss decides he wants something on paper, I’ll send ‘im your way.” Though she thought for a moment as she watcher Harper clean herself and her tools up, and corrected herself, “or I’ll just have to stop by myself.” Wow, was she really trying this hard? Maybe that jackass newbie had also hit her in the head, and she just hadn’t noticed due to the blood on her hand. “You’d think by now we’d have figured that out by now, seeing how easy it would make day-to-day life… though I guess that  getting rid of all the dumbasses could also be considered genocide, so better not…”

Children, Harper had always been good with them, but after Netta died, she’d tried to keep her distance.Too much time with them that wasn’t necessary was too painful--their questions and imaginations were BRILLIANT and wonderful, but they echoed the ghost of her long dead sister and their laughter stung like bees. Little boys weren’t so bad, but every little girl reminded Harper of her dead sister and the mistakes she’d made to get her killed. “Nah, I’m no good with kids.” She lied with her best smile. An incredible actress, well, that much was true. Despite nursing being the most trusted profession for DECADES--a nurse didn’t survive without developing some impressive acting chops.

Harper laughed at he joke, holding the needle high to keep from poking either of them. “I didn’t play a whole lot of doctor to be honest.” There had been too much work to be done and very little leisure. She recovered her smirk before raising a brow and adding. “My winning personality does a damn good job of sending the boys a’running.” As she held Addison’s skin taut, she grinned. “I mean, it’s pretty impressive, but you’re free to admire it when I’m doing it to someone else instead.” With the warning delivered, she began her work quickly. “Little pinch and then burning, okay?” The numbing, cleaning, and stitches were quick work.

“Sounds good. Honestly, you could probably take two days off and skip the light work if you wanted.” Harper shrugged, peeling off her blue gloves and tossing them on the table, before wrapping everything in a chux and tossing it in a wastebin. “They’ll sort themselves out.” Harper lied, knowing full well those who made bad choices so often outlived those who didn’t. She’d seen 90 year olds with lung cancer, smoking a pack a day for 70 years and eating more sodium than nutrients, outlive healthy kids who played outside everyday. Life had a cruel irony to it that she both appreciated for its wit and resented it for the pain it caused. “Well, I’m about off, so I’ll walk you out, but--” She stopped at the sink to wash her hands before gesturing Addison follow her out the door. “--I was going to head straight to Luna’s for a drink and, since I know you don’t have to work, you’re welcome to join me.”

“Thank you,” Maya gave the women a smile as she paid for the fruit in her hand and turned to walk back to her house. Only that she didn’t get very far, running into someone as soon as she turned around. “Wow, the queue isn’t very long, no need to become one while waiting.”

After a long stretch of shifts, Harper was beginning to feel like a human again. The sun bled through the canopy of the fruit stand, rays stretching out across the dingy market pathway every few feet or so. After spending of her wait in one of the rays, beads of sweat began to form across her forehead like a spray of iridescent freckles. Even the bottle of water in her hand mimicked her, condensation beading on its surface.

Arms crossed, Harper's brow rose at the comment from the guard, before shaking her head with a chuckle. “If I don’t become one with you, I’m going to melt into the floor. Backsweat is not my best look.” Already feeling the relief of the shade, she took a sip from the bottle and pointed to the arrangement of fruit from which the woman had selected from. “They seem pretty ripe today? They were hard as a triceratop horn when I was here last.”

What was initially unease faded quickly to a feeling of relative calmness. She knew nothing of the other girl’s nature, but something in Mariella’s gut said she was to be trusted. “Harper,” She repeated, a smile of her own tearing across her features. “It’s nice to meet you! And, truthfully, it’s great to meet another nurse. I’ve yet to meet any from Alia Terra…Er, current ones, anyways.” Considering Harper thought she was akin to a thirteen year old girl just moments prior, she figured she’d aid her in better understanding her position. “I’ve been training since before I finished high school. In many ways, I still am.” She noted, which was the truth. Everyone in Outpost 7 was required at least brief medical training and had to help out in rotation, but she had taken much more than a liking to the profession. Thus, her eventual hiring at the medic bay. She loved the process of healing and pouring a part of herself into the recuperation of another. If they had therapists on this Earth, she was certain they’d call it projection, but she considered it a calling. 

It wasn’t until after she noticed the medic pack set off to the side that it occurred to her that the woman standing opposite of her was more than likely the person smuggling medical supplies to her people ( other than her Maia, who aided Mariella personally in the off chance there was something she was unable to procure as an Outsider ). The hopelessly irrational part of her wanted to immediately point this out and go to thanking her personally, but she decidedly kept her mouth shut. With much strength, but she managed. “You came prepared.” She said nonchalantly, vaguely gesturing to the pack discarded a few feet behind them. “Has something happened or do you just carry medical supplies with you everywhere you go?”

The outsiders were a group that Harper had never harbored ill will towards. She’d had her apprehensions about the leadership of alia terra long before she’d won her place in the lottery and, while she wasn’t about to leave her sister or abandon her infirmary, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let a group of people who’d left to find freedom miss out on the important medical supplies she could help them access. It didn’t mean that she was NAIVE enough to trust an outsider without knowing them or having someone vouch for them. Many of them didn’t know her from Yates’ secretary. Still, there was a charm to Mariella that reminded her of her sister and it made the work of trust all the less laborious. Even though Parker was now twenty-five, Harper still regarded her in someways as the young girl she’d been when they’d both lost their youngest sister all those years ago. “That’s wonderful.” Harper smiled at her. “You have a young face, that’ll pay off a lot more later than it does now.” An unspoken apology for mistaking the girl for one of the high school kids that partied OTG. Unless they ended up in her infirmary, Harper didn’t bother knowing them.

“Isn’t that what you do OTG?” She asked cautiously. “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. I was supposed to be meeting someone here.” The truth kept intentionally vague. “I carry them outside the gates when I come. Generally, I’m only out here to deliver to the outposts or accompany rangers or scientists.” She didn’t mention that she came and went as she pleased some nights or left the gates to deliver supplies to her people. Both of those were punishable crimes and, while she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it, she was of less use to Outpost Seven among its members. “And you, what’re you doing out here?”