themysticmd

interruption prompts the healer to look up from her studies — a futile endeavour anyway, when she knows not what she searches for. something to keep her hands busy, at least. asa likes to be busy. one eyebrow raises at the butcher's outburst; safe to assume that had not been meant for her. call her what you like, but the night nurse cannot be accused of being untidy or disorganised.

sharp gaze flicks to jenny, then to the books being transported across the room. a heavy sigh. how many times is she going to have to tell those children? order is key, they're going to bloody well lose track of everything they've even got if they don't start keeping a proper record of —

oh, why does she bother? it's aging her. metaphorically, of course.

"strewn around haphazardly, i take it?"

she's not exactly good at small talk, but considering that jenny is the only other adult — not that a human adult seems much compared to asa's own millions of years, but she'll take what she can get — in the building, she figures it might be in her own best interests to be on. . . well, manageable terms, at least.

the nurse shuts her ledger, resting it in her lap. kept close, like she doesn't quite know how to be without it.

"i've given up telling them," she continues, "they're making me feel like a cataloguer when i'm supposed to be their. . ."

she barely contains the wrinkle of her nose. it still stings to admit.

". . . operator."

A frustrated sigh; the nurse had hit the nail on the head with that one, making it sound like a habit of theirs and not something Jenny would be dealing with as a one off. Great. Books on the paranormal strewn haphazardly across the store; something which doesn’t make for a good first impression believe it or not. She takes a brief glance of her surroundings, “I’d have figured a successful detective agency would need to have at least some sort of organization to it but then again, what the fuck do I know?”

Now don’t get her wrong, Jenny does very much care about them; she wouldn’t exactly have moved to London otherwise. However, underneath it all she’s just a tad stressed as a result of the whole ‘moving overseas and restarting a business from scratch’ thing and thus she can't help but feel frustrated.

Plus, a part of her identity had been tied to that butcher shop in Port Townsend for so long it was almost...strange to be without it.

She raises her eyebrows, looking up from the desk and turning her gaze towards the nurse. Jenny’s not particularly adept at small talk, she’s aware of this. Though at least she’s talking to another adult for once, a welcome change as opposed to attempting to decipher what the fuck is going on with a group of teenagers.

“You’d think they’d at least try and keep track of it all.” She pauses for a brief moment as she steps away from the desk before continuing, “I’m sure picking up after teenagers wasn’t on the job listing ‘cause it sure as hell wasn’t on mine.”

a humourless laugh; "probably about as much as i do, these days," she mutters under her breath.

'what the fuck do i know' indeed. asa's been asking herself the same question ever since her life ( using the term loosely ) got irrevocably turned upside down with the involvement of a couple of dead boys. anyway, jenny's butcher shop seems to be rather akin to asa's lost & found department, in that regard; how does one extract themselves from something like that, when it's all they've ever known for so long?

she shifts slightly, leaning back in her seat, hands still holding her ledger. a smile, wry, that doesn't reach her eyes.

"you got a job description? that must've been nice."

small, measured exhale through the nose / slow turn to regard one of her new charges.

"holds," replies nurse, "yours and everyone else's."

quite the claim, considering how slim the volume is. ( surely a book of that size cannot hold within every file on every dead child since the beginning of forever. . . can it? )

ah, edwin's a clever lad. he'll work it out.

" so...it says why i was never removed from hell? "

a bold question but edwin never backs down when he wants to know something. it could explain so much. let him know if his plan had worked. if he is now free of the clawing plastic hands of hell.

eye contact maintained, considering carefully; she shouldn't say, really. confidentiality and all that. but then, confidentiality doesn't matter much when he is the subject of the file, right? plus, asa's not exactly thrilled with the department at the moment. what does she care if she upsets the higher ups? not like they hadn't upset her plenty, as of late. . .

". . . not exactly."

in fact, the file alone makes no mention of the technicality in question. hence why she'd been so stunned to learn of it; the night nurse might detest paperwork, but she's good at it. she'd never have missed something like that, even if it had been tucked away in the fine print.

"simply put, it says you were t'be held there for 100 years, then reallocated. all the written evidence suggests it's a simple case of ritual sacrifice, not something we need to. . . investigate further. . ."

she trails off, looking away, almost sheepish. she's not going to be very forthcoming on it, but it has been playing on her mind.

The Night Nurse had a little fun with Jenny's neck and face. 🤭

---

sat down, for once, idly flicking through the pages of her ledger — not exactly necessary now, but old habits die hard.

or don't die, as it were.

" so, your ledger held charles and i's paperwork regarding out assignments? "

small, measured exhale through the nose / slow turn to regard one of her new charges.

"holds," replies nurse, "yours and everyone else's."

quite the claim, considering how slim the volume is. ( surely a book of that size cannot hold within every file on every dead child since the beginning of forever. . . can it? )

ah, edwin's a clever lad. he'll work it out.

sat down, for once, idly flicking through the pages of her ledger — not exactly necessary now, but old habits die hard.

or don't die, as it were.

She stands outside of the office, a small pile of books under one arm. Pushing open the door she walks into the space with a sigh.

“Guys you can’t just leave your shit all around my shop. If people think I read books like this they’re going to think I’m crazy.”

There’s a beat of silence as she scans the office. Of course they weren’t here. Her eyes land on the woman flicking through the pages of her book; but just because Crystal and the boys weren’t here doesn’t mean Jenny’s alone. She gives a slight nod to acknowledge her, something which she can’t avoid now that she’s made her presence known.

“I’m just going to leave these here.”

interruption prompts the healer to look up from her studies — a futile endeavour anyway, when she knows not what she searches for. something to keep her hands busy, at least. asa likes to be busy. one eyebrow raises at the butcher's outburst; safe to assume that had not been meant for her. call her what you like, but the night nurse cannot be accused of being untidy or disorganised.

sharp gaze flicks to jenny, then to the books being transported across the room. a heavy sigh. how many times is she going to have to tell those children? order is key, they're going to bloody well lose track of everything they've even got if they don't start keeping a proper record of —

oh, why does she bother? it's aging her. metaphorically, of course.

"strewn around haphazardly, i take it?"

she's not exactly good at small talk, but considering that jenny is the only other adult — not that a human adult seems much compared to asa's own millions of years, but she'll take what she can get — in the building, she figures it might be in her own best interests to be on. . . well, manageable terms, at least.

the nurse shuts her ledger, resting it in her lap. kept close, like she doesn't quite know how to be without it.

"i've given up telling them," she continues, "they're making me feel like a cataloguer when i'm supposed to be their. . ."

she barely contains the wrinkle of her nose. it still stings to admit.

". . . operator."

asa, unintentionally letting slip that she had in fact opened a portal to hell in jenny's property back in port townsend.

jenny instantly hitting the roof. "what the FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU OPENED A PORTAL TO HELL????"

asa trying to play it off because she genuinely had not meant to divulge that little tidbit - above all she's a healer, and she knows something like that is liable to give jenny problems with her blood pressure. "oh... uh... just joking, dear! humans like jokes, eh? see, i'm getting better at this 'interacting with mortals' stuff!" with that overly bright smile that's honestly just really hard to argue with.

jenny not buying that for a second, but also, is she even surprised anymore? this might as fucking well happen. she's already been possessed, followed some ghosts to london, almost been killed by a scary stalker librarian, frequently interacts with a self-confessed 'trans-dimensional being'... a portal to hell's probably par for the course, at this point.

"right. a joke," she'll reply, dry as hell. "let's try keeping the fucking PORTALS TO HELL in my building to a minimum."

and asa, still sporting that outrageously sweet grin, without a moment's hesitation: "our building."

"unless you are a murderer or a taxidermist, @dawnofdoom, it is rare to have actual skeletons in your closet as opposed to metaphorical ones."

　　　“  is it truly   murder,   asa?   or am i simply doing half of the work?  … for your own sake,   i highly advise against opening any doors.   hells know i haven’t half the mind or patience to pair for your shrieking about proper order.  ”

one brow cocks / judgement crystal - clear.

"half the work for who?" disbelief and no small amount of ire colours her words. "anyway, asking me to never open a door again is totally unreasonable, y'know."

a hint of a pout, final point mumbled, sulky.

"and for the record, i don't shriek."