holy water cannot help you now Who: Elise & Linnea Where: U of M hospital When: Late afternoon
Linnea did love being a mother, she really did. Most of the time. When her children were not making her uncomfortable - as Satu was doing quite a wonderful job of practically every day and especially around other people - or when they were not so badly damaged that they needed to be taken and kept in the hospital. The latter had never been much a concern to her until recently. First Kajsa and now Dagmar. She was almost waiting for Valterri and Satu to find ways to get themselves that badly hurt as well, just so that they completed the pattern. Leif, well, Linnea doubted that if Leif went to the hospital she would even know unless one of his sister’s found out. And then she would likely not be allowed to visit unless he felt like it, and if he did then Linnea was almost certain something about it would be unpleasant for her. The last few times that she had tried to have a conversation with him had ended badly for her and she knew that was not going to change anytime soon. He simply had too much of his father in him. Her hand went down to rest of her stomach and she sighed, stopping in the hall to lean against the wall briefly. Yet again she sent out a silent prayer that hoped that this child was Bradley’s. The blood that Jokull had passed onto his children was undeniably tainted, as Nikita had shared with her, and Linnea did not want another one. She saw what it did to their personalities. Leif, Dagmar and Satu had never been the sweetest of children. Neither had Kajsa or Valterri, but in comparison...
Times like these are when I need Strike. Linnea shook the thoughts away and continued walking down the hall. The nurse who had stopped in to check on Dagmar a little while ago had been right; she needed to eat. She had been avoiding food since that morning thanks to the upset lurches her stomach had been giving when they stopped in the flower shop, but she thought that the baby had finally settled. Hospital food may not have been the best in the world, but she did know that they had a few not so awful options. Being a constant visitor awhile ago had also seen to her knowing her way around so she did not have to stop and bother anyone for directions on how to find the cafeteria. Only nothing looked good; not even the salads that had been her staple on visits with Kajsa. Frowning a little she settled on a bowl of the soup and a bottle of juice. Normally she would have taken it back to the room with her, but Dagmar was sleeping and Satu was engrossed in her iPod and likely still sulking over the incident earlier. Linnea did not know what she was going to do with that girl if she could not even stay in high spirits after it was mentioned that her mother was pregnant. Rubbing at her temples, Linnea slid into a seat at an empty table and rested her head against the cool window. She should eat the soup before it cooled, but she really was not hungry. This may turn out to be like her pregnancy with Kajsa all over again, with doctors concerned over her lack of weight gain, only now she was not a teenager who knew no better. I really need to think to bring Strike with me more often.
One was not supposed to spend all night at the hospital – something about the legality of working so many hours and sleeping so many hours. Well boo to that rule. Elise didn’t need to sleep at all when she really set her mind to it, but apparently that was the problem. ‘Go home, go to bed!’ Little gnats buzzing in her ear. They sang her praises, commended her on her attentiveness regarding one particular paranoid schizophrenic – silly rabbits – while word came back as she went to leave for the cafeteria that another patient’s underlying borderline personality disorder was no longer quite as underlying as it was right there in everyone’s faces. Mmm, goody. Of course she had known all of that because she had done it. It did sound wonderful coming from someone else, though. Yes, she was fully aware of how good she was at her job – function – but she was also vain enough to be a firm believer that it couldn’t possibly hurt to hear it from someone who wasn’t her. Well, it couldn’t hurt her, in any case. Why would it? She was, apparently, an acclaimed psychiatrist. The words of one of her colleagues, not her own, but who was Elise to complain? Whatever helps them sleep at night. Certainly, it had been noted that the number of crazies had increased since she joined the hospital staff, but that was several years ago and it wasn’t as though she tore their wits from them overnight. Those she worked with – they knew really. They did, and those that said otherwise were terrible liars. Flashes of their speculations always found their way to her skin, even the whisperings when they thought she couldn’t hear. It was all there – the knowledge forcing itself behind her eyes and into her head, making itself known. She’s a sweetheart but there’s something… Don’t you think she’s a little off?... Can’t quite put my finger on it… Could be nothing… Later, she would clap her hands together and laugh with utter delight at how blind they chose to remain when she did nothing but hide in plain sight. Currently, she wished only to force her fingers into her own eye sockets to pull it all back out again. It was a very real possibility that she still might.
Or she could push her thumbs into the sockets of someone else, she thought cheerfully as the colours of the walls around her began to bleed into each other. A blink, and the hallucination stopped. This was what happened when some wretchedly ingenious fool thought to invent the Psychiatric Emergency Services and, not only did she get to giggle at the news reels that repeated themselves all night, but she reaped whatever psychological trauma someone else had sewn. Then she both outdid and overwhelmed herself. This was why she was still in the hospital, constantly promising colleagues she would take a nap at some point, even if she had to hijack one of the beds. This was why she had thrown their concerns to the four winds for the Virtues to scramble after in dismay. Elise had new toys. Grabbing a film-wrapped sandwich – cheese and ham with pickle… she hated pickle – the demon seized a bottle of some drink that fizzed as her hand jerked it away and then cast an eye over the room. Boring, boring, angelic, colleague—Hallucinating. The walls bled into the floor and ceiling, spinning into each other until she had nothing but extreme tunnel vision and the vague acknowledgement she was still holding her dinner. And then it disappeared. Abracadabra. Leaving her focused on a blonde who looked like she needed a hug. Perfect. Elise, after all, wouldn’t sit next to just anyone. Well, that was a lie, but after purposefully waiting a few moments to make sure she didn’t really have anywhere else to sit, it was the case now. “I don’t mean to intrude,” she started, all sweetness and a silent giggle sounding in the back of her head because wasn’t that just the silliest thing to say? “But do you mind if I sit here?”
Linnea was lifting the spoon up, tipping it slightly so that the soup dribbled out, and putting it back down when she was pulled out of thoughts she did not even need to be having by a voice she did not know. Despite having been at the hospital far more this summer than at any other time in her life, Linnea was not acquainted with hardly anyone who worked there past the doctors who had seen to her daughters and the more active nurses. This woman she looked at was not one of them. She did look to be a doctor, though, and Linnea did not feel like being rude. Satu had accomplished that well enough for both of them that afternoon with Bella. “You’re not intruding at all, please sit down, Dr... de Listenois.” No, she most definitely would have remembered if there had been a doctor with that name attending either of her children. Then again, Linnea also had a problem remembering that there were actual departments and other areas of the hospital with people specializing in things other than various sorts of physical trauma. Though Kajsa may need to see a psychiatrist soon. Another thought that Strike would have encouraged her to discard no matter how true it was because it was just going to upset her. “Ah, my manners.” Linnea dropped the spoon again and inclined her head slightly, debating it for just a moment before she extended her hand. It would not do to be even the slightest rude to a doctor who had decided to join her for some reason. “Linnea Selanne-Niemi, I am sure that it is a pleasure, doctor.”
Oh, you silly, silly girl. Were it not for the fact that it might give her current past-time a change of heart – or even draw attention to herself and find her told to move to another table, which simply wouldn’t be happening – Elise might have batted the woman on the forehead for her stupidity. Your mother, did she never tell you not to speak to strangers? Of course she had, but the earthly races were stupid and seemed to believe that no longer applied once they reached adulthood. It was one of the many reasons their murder rate was so high – and it was delicious. The invitation to sit down was even more so. Did she issue the same to vampires or did it only count if they were in a completely different establishment? Oh wait, vampires could get in here. Strictly BYOB, then. “Thank you, I’ve been on duty since yesterday. I’m quite exhausted.” No, she wasn’t, they were just a couple of hallucinations and that was all. One was not born into Insanity for the clean bill of health. Elise smoothed down her dress, slid onto her seat and crossed her legs with all the elegance one could manage in this infernal cafeteria. The smile remained in place; a glossy veneer of humanity. Laughable.—Oh, manners! How she did love an individual with manners. She didn’t even mind if they were an angel, though they tended to be far, far less cooperative with the customary handshake that this woman was all too ready to walk into. The demon’s fingers itched to grab it before she somehow realised what she was a pulled it back—“Please, call me Elise,” she said, setting the bottle of… fizz… down and grasping the other woman’s – yes, alright, she had heard the name – with what most people apparently believed to be a ‘healthy grip’. She was unsure who it was healthy for. It invariably left her wanting to break their fingers. As with every one of the demon’s handshakes, there was just a moment before she released the other hand. Her head was still trying to find its own version of an equilibrium in the wake of that stream of information, and not all of it hers. “Selanne-Niemi… Finnish, isn’t it? And the pleasure is mine, really.” Oh, truly. “Besides, at least one of my patients will tell you I’m the devil.” She should be so lucky.
Linnea had absolutely no idea of what it was that she was walking into. She saw someone who looked a little tired and was obviously a doctor and she simply assumed that it was best to be polite to them as she was to everyone else. She still had no reason to believe that there was a single thing wrong with the other woman. “They can work you doctors very hard; I recall a young intern the last time I was here who looked as though he was dead on his feet.” Being conversational was another part of being polite and Linnea really had spent too much time at various functions with Jokull to not pull on her best face even when she was just sitting in the cafeteria of a hospital. She clearly did not get out enough anymore. Linnea was a slight off-put by how long the handshake lasted, she was never terribly fond of physical contact with strangers, but she kept the smile on her face once she had drawn her hand away and wrapped it around her juice. “Elise then. And yes, it’s Finnish. Yours sounds French?” The remark about patients and the devil set her back a little. Her mind automatically linked that word with Jokull now, as though it had needed another reason to do so. “Would that be because they don’t like the treatment you give?” Linnea had a hard time thinking ill of those in the health-care profession unless she was given a good reason. Although it was true that she could be a little apprehensive about psychologists and their various approaches.
Elise gave a brief, almost musical laugh and nodded her agreement. It was funny that this Linnea - water elemental - actually thought that she was working. It was funny that anybody believed they could make her work if they tried. The other doctors did seem to spent a great number of hours in this ridiculous place, though. Helping people. Why they would want to go and do that when most of them died and the rest had such a limited shelf life was beyond her. “Actually, I stayed through the night voluntarily,” she added with perhaps a touch of faux humility to complete the effect. Wouldn’t want to sound too much like she was blowing her own horn even if she really, really was. “The trauma cases have been understandably high, and we can’t send them all home with instructions for a good night’s rest.” Not when she was making them so much worse. That would just be unchristian. She did like interns, though. Ate them up and spat them out when they’d not had enough sleep. The surgical interns had some of the most interesting hallucinations… Mm. Five children, two bastards, three legitimate.—No, six children… Was that wrong? Elise didn’t think it was. She wasn’t usually wrong and she should hate to be wrong this time because of this woman. Even if she had apparently made her a little uncomfortable for all of a second. That was hardly enough. The inside of her head rattled furiously over that one detail while the demon opened her drink and took a mouthful. She liked ice cream soda. Something about her name… Something about her name? “Mm, yes,” she nodded relatively enthusiastically despite being not at all interested in it. “My family’s French way, way back.” Or, if one were to be pedantic, it was her husband’s name, but since she had driven him and his entire household to suicide, she didn’t think he would mind if she used it. “They simply have damaged minds,” Elise corrected with an apparently understanding shake of the head. “I am hoping I can help as many of them recover as possible.” Just let me put my fingers down my throat first, would you, pet? Still—was it five kiddies or six? If she would just give that hand back… “How many children did you say you have?” She hadn’t, but who was paying attention? Elise would have her answer or someone would hang by their tongue.
It seemed that Linnea had not just found herself being the companion to any doctor, but an overly enthusiastic one who actually stayed through the night to better help the others. Linnea appreciated seeing that in others. She doubted that she could have ever done it but it took all types and to each their own. “Then you are in definite need of a sit down and something to eat.” Linnea had a natural desire to mother and make sure that people were taken care of, especially when they looked younger than her. Doctor or not she did look younger so that desire was there in some regard, despite that brief feeling of unease that had come and gone. “Ah, well it’s good that the name stayed and that you have a history. So many people don’t.” Linnea did not understand those people. How could one not know about their family history and take pride in it? She did hers and encouraged her children to do the same, though it could accurately be stated that she did not push them as much on the matter of the Niemi family as she could have. “Oh, are you a psychologist or psychiatrist?” That would be exactly her luck to have a doctor sit with her who specialized in one of those fields. Almost like a sign. Did I say how many children I have? Linnea did not think that she had and blinked at Elise. Was she a telepath? No, no a telepath would not be able to just pick that information up from her mind when she had not even been thinking about it. Linnea had spent enough time learning how to quiet her thoughts specifically to keep telepaths out. Maybe I said something...? “Five. Two boys and three girls.” Her free hand moved down over her stomach out of reflex. “Come next year it’ll be six.”
So, so quick to believe her – but then they always were. They were so eager to believe that the people whose hands they often put their welfare into, and the welfare of their loved ones, were that kind of person. The person who would stay up all night if needs be, knowing there was someone already on shift to replace them, just to give that extra care to those who needed it. On one side of the coin Elise rather wanted to vomit. On the other side… well, that was exactly what she had done. It wasn’t her fault her idea of helping went against the Hippocratic oath Lucifer knew how many times over. “So I’ve been told,” she replied with a small shrug and a faintly amused smile. “The nurses have been threatening me with sedation.” Once. That had happened once. The other times it was in her head, but she had to admit that maybe that was a sign she was playing a little too hard. But it was sweet that this Linnea lady was apparently agreeing with them. It was sweet that she did that without giving a second thought as to what she might be talking to, never mind who. Well, she knew who. Elise always wore her name badge. But clearly the earthly races didn’t see this was how they so frequently toddled into so much trouble and landed perfectly on their faces. Bloodied nose and a shattered tooth. An interesting mental image that replaced the elemental’s otherwise untouched face for no more than three heartbeats, leaving her wishing it looked like that anyway. Hallucinations teased. “It does give you a sense of heritage, doesn’t it?” Elise hardly knew what she was talking about. She only remembered ever meeting her father and even then it was only for a short time. “Ironically, I traced my family back to Bedlam Hospital, London. And I’m a psychiatrist, though hardly so medieval.” And I lie so beautifully. She often wondered how many hints she could drop about herself before the penny dropped like the godforsaken atom bomb. Catching the blink, Elise held her expression, used to it after so many patients noticing her eyes change colour then deciding they had obviously been dark brown all along. But really, it was a very simple question that could only ever have a very simple answer unless she had been a surrogate mother and then they were just arguing semantics. So she would just wait for the confusion or whatever that was to pass, and—Wait, she wasn’t supposed to answer so easily. Oh, that is too perfect. She can’t actually believe she mentioned them. Two boys, three girls… Elise’s mind tried to match those to faces in her head that by now were becoming just a little blurred. She was more interested in the two bastards and three legitimate labels, frankly. Her eyes followed Linnea’s hand as she caught it moving and she smiled at that little announcement. Hello, number six. “Congratulations!” She beamed. Everyone was supposed to get excited over babies. Her own had been given away, but she’d had better things to do. “So,” she began in a voice that brimmed with enthusiasm, having completely abandoned the sandwich she’d known she wouldn’t like to begin with. “Are all your children demonic?” She nodded at where there’d be a delightful bump soon with a little brat inside it. “Fiendish little buggers to raise, aren’t they? Or so I’ve been told. I never bothered myself. Raising them, that is.” Well, it wasn’t like she cared if anyone else was listening.
“Oh that’d be unfortunate if you worked yourself that hard.” Linnea’s tone was nothing but sympathetic. She imagined that Jokull had done things like that, only his work was nowhere near as important or good for other. Good for the vampires? No, it was just like offering them feed at a trough when they were perfectly capable of going and finding a neck of their own. Linnea shifted the spoon around her soup again before finally deciding to take a mouthful of it. She made a slight face; it was too cold. “Mmmm, yes.” Linnea did not think, not yet, that there was any reason she should be concerned for herself. She was in a very public place with other people having a talk with a young daughter who looked perfectly pleasant. “Bedlam Hospital? I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.” Assumptions made on what else had been said made her think it was a hospital specifically for psychology? Those are never good places, especially not a long time ago. One of her less good ideas had led Linnea to read a book about how they used to practice ‘psychology’ and its like on people in the past and she had had nightmares for a month. Jokull would have loved it. Linnea’s smile returned at the congratulations. “Thank you.” The enthusiasm in Elise’s voice made her wonder if the other woman had children of her own - before the sentence was completed and everything went suddenly cold. Not the sort of cold that she viewed as pleasant like water either, but worse than ice and washed straight down her spine. The smile remained, sort of frozen there while her eyes widened. Am I dreaming? Does she know me? Jokull? Linnea’s mind raced and then stalled as she realized that even if this woman was a telepath there had not been a single thought in her mind about demonic or demons. Not one. There never was unless she was forced to take the problem head-on and that had not happened here. She refused to think that the little bump in her stomach was demonic. Bradley’s, it’s Bradley’s and he isn’t demonic. “I... this is not a conversation I wish to have with someone I do not know.” How do you know that? How could you? She was not panicking, she was not, her heart was just beating faster and it was a little hard to breathe. Linnea had never come across an actual demon and, far as she was concerned, they all looked like those beasts that had been on the news. It was easy to imagine a relative of Jokull’s mating with one.
“Rest assured; it won’t be happening any time soon,” Elise managed without reaching over to choke the sympathy from the woman’s voice. Too much compassion made her nauseous and she didn’t like to feel nauseous. Bad things happened. Really, everyone should know to avoid these little triggers she had before someone found the nearest suitable object to hand jammed into their eye socket and into their brain. It would make for a crude lobotomy – or an effective murder – but she would feel better. The thought certainly left her looking at that spoon in a new light while she took another mouthful of soda. Her other hand moved to scratch at an itch on her forehead that most people would have likely found excruciatingly painful. Only she had felt it so many times it was commonplace, really. It happened when the figment of a doctor driving a hole into your skull was amplified just so… “Founded as a psychiatric hospital in 1337 and the epitome of what most consider a madhouse to be. Famous and notorious for the brutal ill treatment of the patients.” Quoted almost directly from Wikipedia, for as much as Elise had all but worshipped the place it was not what it used to be and had she described it in her own words it would have been infinitely more descriptive than direct. The phantom itch stopped – its doctor vanished – and she stopped rubbing at it, pausing only to see if she had managed to scratched right through the skin of her head again. No! All well again. Her smile warmed, apparently at Linnea’s gesture of gratitude but actually at the amusement of it all. You’re welcome. You’re very, very welcome to the hellish little sweetheart. Elise didn’t bother much with her own children or even their children, but she had often stopped to take a peek at the other demon-spawn waltzing around like the world was theirs. But no, no, this was just ridiculous. Hiccupping a giggle, she waved one finger at Linnea’s facial expression; the smile she had glued on while the eyes had gone pop! like saucers. “You should see your face right about now,” she said in tones that remained as saccharine as they had started out. It was a pity she had left her cell in the car. That would have made a marvellous screensaver. “Oh boo.” Elise very nearly pouted. “But you do know me. Look; I have a name badge and everything. What else could you possibly need to know that a clever little girl like you couldn’t figure out?” She flashed a dazzling smile. “Give you a clue: it’s all in the eyes.” Again, she giggled, reaching to grab Linnea’s free hand and set in firmly on the table in her version of a supportive gesture. The kind where the one who needed support couldn’t just get away. “Besides, I never said you had a choice. Ooh, linnaeas for your daughter,” she clicked her tongue, apparently impressed. “Nice choice.”
That was actually a far more descriptive description that Linnea had wanted. She was not fond of the idea of places like that and it seemed to have been a horrible place; why would one want to find out that their family was from there and then share that fact with other people? Surely that was the sort of family heritage that deserved to be pressed back into the metaphorical closet and left to gather dust. “Thank you for educating me.” Still, it was new information and Elise should be thanked. Manners and all... manners that Linnea was starting to wonder if she should not be using. Whoever this Elise was she was beginning to make her feel quite uncomfortable. And the way that she continued to talk in that voice... the icy feeling only grew worse and Linnea was about to push her chair away and stand when her hand was suddenly grabbed. That was when Linnea actually pulled her attention up and looked into the doctor’s eyes. Eyes that she had thought, after a glimpse, were brown. Only that was definitely a blue... blueish-green? Gray? What? Linnea shook her head and glanced away. That woman’s grip was impossibly strong. Linnea swore quietly in Finnish and tried to tug it away. This was like being held by a vampire, only the hand was not cold, it was warmer than her own. Like any other person’s might be. She cannot be a person. Or a telepath. She had to be some sort of psychic then. Linnea was not as familiar with them as she would like to be, only telepaths and readers really, but there had to be something... “We thought they would be a nice touch so yes, linnaeas for my daughter.” Linnea wanted to ask several different questions, yet her tongue refused to form the words. “Let go of my hand,” was what came out instead.
“Silly goose, shaking your head won’t make them stop, they do it all the time!” The demon tilted her head as one might do with a child when they were doing something absurd. “In fact, when I was much younger—Ah, language!” She didn’t speak Finnish, but there was little point in being a demon if you couldn’t tell a curse-word when you heard one. “When I was much, much, much younger, actually, because just one much doesn’t really cover it – I tried pulling this eye,” she pointed at the right-hand one, her index finger making a hooking motion, “right out of my head to see for myself without a mirror.” Stopping, she leaned back in her chair a little, realising she seemed to be sneaking further and further forward with every word. It wasn’t actually her problem, but she didn’t want to have to sit upon the table to continue this conversation. Maybe she could sit on Linnea’s lap and absorb even more information, though she didn’t really need it because the woman kept thinking and feeling and while Elise was mostly ignoring the latter, the former was a bit more interesting. “I can be as much of a person as you are, elemental; don’t be such a specist,” she corrected with a sudden frown. It was a cute frown, though, wasn’t it? The demon loved her face. “Could easily have been a telepath too, except I wasn’t born one.” Try naming all the psychics you know and if you get it right I won’t kill your daughter. “Yes, I got that, that is what I said. Don’t bore me, boring people don’t last very long and I believe you would agree the end of your tether is already frayed enough without me turning my attention to it.” She tapped her index finger on the back of Linnea’s hand and gave a contented sigh. That was never a promise Elise could keep, as well she knew, but the other woman didn’t. It was none of her business. Mouth opening exaggeratedly, the demon inhaled deeply: “No.” Her shoulders relaxed as she gave up the pretense. “Oh, come now. You can’t be surprised to hear that. Anyway, I want to know why you’re so horrified about the demonic bratlet. Daddy not up to scratch? A full-fledged demon?” A beat, and her eyes lit up. “Anyone I know?” Of course not, she barely knew anyone in the area who wasn’t a colleague or a lunatic.
Linnea did not mean to frown, but her face automatically crease when Elise scolded her for her language. It was rather wrong for someone to be scolding about swearing when they had eyes that changed color, too firm a grip and seemed able to just pick information that they had no right to right out of one’s mind. Was it even coming out of her mind? Linnea was aware of her thoughts and none of them were the ones that were being told to her. She had not been thinking about her children or that they were demonic, nor about the flowers that she had bought for Dagmar at Seeds of Beauty. And that was just a disturbing little tidbit that she never wanted to know about anyone, much less a whatever-this-was. “Why did you fail?” Linnea could not imagine that it was because she was not strong enough or even just twisted enough to do it. Anyone who had a thought like that... Stop thinking. Stop, stop, stop thinking. A deep breath. Another. Let the words go in one ear and out the other they were nothing but words and this woman was just mad. She could not actually be a doctor, maybe a patient who had stolen a jacket and made their way here to play a little game. A very, very strong patient who happened to have some psychic ability that was telling her things Linnea did not think she wanted shared. And her eyes change color. That... Linnea did not know how to explain that to herself. But she had dealt with insane people and she had lived with Jokull for most of her life while being subjected to his ‘contacts’. Could anyone be worse? “Doubtful; he is rather dead.” And she was not surprised at being told no. “And he is not a full-fledged demon, he was my husband. A human.” No, that was not right, he was rather a monster. “Of sorts.” Deep breaths. It took deep breaths and a lack of focus and no she was not going to pick that bowl up and whip it in her face because if this was just some mad girl who happened to be remarkably strong and psychic then what would that look like?
Thinking, thinking, thinking—Didn’t this woman ever stop? Especially that she has established that the woman holding her hand was psychic – yes, the hand was a big clue that… oh, no, she wouldn’t figure out because she was just a water elemental and didn’t have the slightest clue of what Elise was thinking. It would have been wonderful if she did. Then all of this could have been done in complete silence assuming Linnea wouldn’t have been competent enough to filter through all the irrelevant details. Seeds of Beauty reeks of angel-spawn, she thought, pulling a face, and she was just about to share exactly why the face was being pulled when the woman asked the most absurd question. “Because I was stopped,” she stated, pinning the elemental with a look that declared her idiocy. That she had been stopped by something more interesting and not an adult was utterly irrelevant. Filtering the details… “Would you stand by while a child maimed themselves?—Anyway, I would never have failed otherwise. I was almost done.” Her pride alone demanded she add that little tidbit. Linnea’s thoughts – patchy though she was receiving them – were deeply entertaining, and she watched her face intently, trying to lap up each and every external reaction. I am playing a game, yes. It’s called ‘life’. You’re it! She was very much a doctor, though, and she had credentials and everything that Elise would gladly drag her to her office to show her if necessary. She hated it when people questioned her ‘occupation’. She had the blessed Hippocratic oath hanging over her head now… True, it was very, very broken, but that wasn’t the point. “Jokull,” she repeated the name, then opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out as though she could try to literally taste the word. “Pity. He sounds like he was my kind of person.” A human… of sorts. Elise snorted and bounced a little in her seat. “So he was demonic. He’d have to be, since Junior is and so are three of your others. The other two…” She wrinkled her nose and made a dismissing gesture with her free hand. They could get into another colossal accident involving terrorists and a bridge for all she cared. “Now, I know what you’re thinking,” the demon started as she caught the flash regarding the bowl and her face – no, her face was too pretty for that, “because I’d do it too. Only much harder than you ever could. But try and your daughter really won’t survive the night.” Again, her face suddenly lit up, only this time a light bulb might as well have appeared over her head. “Or I could have her transferred to my ward! Isn’t that a better idea?” Yes. The answer was always yes.
Linnea just shrugged when it was made to sound as though she should have known the answer to why Elise had not pulled out her own eye. There were a multitude of reasons why she may not have succeeded, starting with ‘it hurt too bad’ to ‘my mother interfered’. Everyone had a mother who would get in the way when they thought that their child was about to maim themselves. Even if that was the mother to something that... no, no Linnea was not going to let that thought conclude. She did not want it to. “No, never.” Linnea rather suspected that Elise already knew the answer to that. My hand. It was a sudden realization and Linnea wanted it back even more. She had really started bringing up the bits of information she should not have when she had grabbed her hand, and it had specifically been her hand. A lot of people had held Linnea during her life and this was the first time that someone had gone for her hand instead of her wrist or shoulder or neck. Or just her face. Linnea was used to keeping her face still and trying to keep her thoughts quiet, but her emotions usually ran rampant and right now was no exception. Only she did not know what she was feeling because it could not just be fear. Jokull’s and not Bradley’s. It was enough to bring back the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that had been bothering her earlier at the floral shop. “If you let go of me you wouldn’t know things about me, that’s why you won’t do it.” Linnea refused to remark on the idea of Dagmar going to this thing’s ward. She was not a patient who had just gone mad and stolen a jacket, she was Dr. Elise de Listenois and she was... not human. Her eyes changed colors, she was strong, she could know her thoughts and she knew that this child was demonic. Or she’s making it up to bother me. Only she can’t have known it would bother me until she said... Linnea drew in a deep breath and focused. It was easy enough to tug the moisture from the air and even easier to center it around Elise’s hand, little drops slipping between their hands before another thought caused the water to freeze solid. “Saatana.” Demon, devil, Satan. In human form. In a hospital. Parading as a doctor. Linnea was undeniably horrified by the realization she had not wanted to have.
It hurt too bad? No, she had gone past that point well before she had become distracted and let go. Elise still did not know how her eyeball had gotten back into its socket. Perhaps someone else had put it back while she was distracted. But that someone was not her mother, oh no. She had never known a succubus who was inclined to keep such a close eye on their young and as far as she knew she hadn’t known her mother at all. No, it was far more likely it had been a passing stranger on Lucifer knew which circle of Hell she’d been in at the time. For some reason many of those demons had found her really very entertaining. Your hand, she confirmed silently, eyebrows arching because it had taken her long enough. This is what happens when you talk to strangers, sweetheart. Trust me, I’m a doctor. Elise laughed softly at herself for the last part, then her expression slowly faded into an unimpressed pout. Her head was getting filled with all these feelings and none of them were hers. With a noise a vague disgust, she flicked her hair over one shoulder with her free hand. “I’d forgotten how emotional water elementals got. They make for the most charming psychotics, though. Did you know?” She bet she did. Demonic blood mixed with that particular element brought about interesting results. Well, all four of them did, but the other three elements weren’t represented at present so she couldn’t give a fig. “I’d applaud the speed at which you reached that conclusion, but I’m occupied,” Elise chimed. So slow, so slow to reach the answer when she gave all the clues. Mankind’s favourite river really was Denial. Michigan’s was the Huron. She amused herself. What are you doing, pet? Her head tilted until it was practically on a horizontal angle while she stared at Linnea. What, was her clairsentience defective all of a sudden? What was that woman doing, thinking or even—Huh. Elise’s fingers were cold. “Satan? Is that not rather like calling an angel ‘god’?” she answered distractedly, trying to examine her hand without moving it. She didn’t want to move it. The elemental was cheating and that was only alright when she did it. “Wasn’t expecting that... Oh, but you’re a master. I knew that. How dreadfully silly of me.” Her fingers hurt now. The tips were numb and the ice was burning and if it didn’t come off very soon she would be very cross. Face beginning to harden, she released Linnea’s hand, closed her own fist and brought it down hard on the table. Shattered ice fled from angry red skin that stung when she poked at it. Hm. No matter. “Guess what?” She thrust her hand, palm-out into the other woman’s face, muttering words of the unholy magic that she was more than happy to use in a room full of people. In seconds her skin was pink and healthy again. Good as new. “Not even close. Want to try again? Best out of three.” She shrugged. “Or maybe not. You have a daughter to think of and I really don’t like it when people try nasty, underhanded tricks like that. At least I told you about all of mine.” Sort of.
Linnea doubted that she actually had to answer any of the questions that were being put to her by this woman. It seemed that as soon as she thought or felt something, Elise knew and reacted to it. This skin contact was only growing more uncomfortable by the second. “I am sure you have had enough exposure to us to know. And yes, I did.” She did not want to think about it. She did not want to think about her son and how, no matter how much she hated it, perfect an example he was of that. Nor of Dagmar’s extreme mood swings or the odd and hurtful things that Satu could say without seeing what was wrong with them. She had those moments as well, true, along with the times when she just let it all go by fading into the water, but it was that demonic touch that added something sharp and barbed into the equation. Other water elementals that she knew were not quite that way. And if this baby was what Elise had said it was then it might very well be just the same; all of Jokull’s children were water elementals... “I don’t think so, satan is just another devil or demon. It was the first word that came to mind.” There were so many different ones for them in her native tongue and they were all buzzing around Linnea’s head. Only they could not all work for some specifically applied to myths or legends while others were just meant for demons of the waters or trees... she had never heard of one for a demon who worked in a hospital and likely drove her patients mad or smothered them with pillows in their sleep. “Intoilija, piru, demoni, riivaaja...” Linnea listed them to help her focus on what she had been doing to Elise’s hand. And it worked. The moment the other blonde released her hand, Linnea had tucked it into her lap and twined it with her other, ignoring the slight ache that had been left behind by the tightness of the grip. She flinched back away when Elise’s hand came at her face, but still watched in something akin to horror as the damaged skin just... healed. Just like that. It looked as though nothing had been done at all. “My intention was to get you to release my hand and you did that so I see no reason to try again.” Linnea’s voice was level, her face smooth, but her emotions were trying to turn her insides into a disaster scene. She was deliberately not looking at Elise’s eyes, not wanting to see if they had changed shade again. That was just unsettling. “You told me nothing of yours. You used them to tell me things about myself that I already knew. But you are correct; I do have a daughter and I should be returning to her.” Linnea made to move her chair away from the table and rise, a solid ninety percent of her convinced that she was not going to be allowed to leave. But that would not stop her anymore now than it had when it was Jokull at the other end of the table.
This was where Elise was supposed to be some kind of affronted, she supposed, that this lower creature who knew no better and never would because she was no kind of worthy that she could see would go and voice such an ill-informed and just completely incorrect point of view. Perhaps she would have if she was the kind of creature who felt the need to use herself as some kind of shield between her beliefs and those who would taint them with nonsense like this, but she wasn’t. That kind of behaviour was for the Virtues and the easily lead. Or the very, very easily insulted. Instead her brow creased in a delicate sort of frown and she eventually spoke through a thoughtful pout. “Do you believe in a god?” Yes, no, maybe – delete as applicable, really. The Finnish chanting was becoming really very annoying, though. At this rate she would end up inadvertently invoking someone and Elise really did not feel like sharing her catch of the moment. She really hadn’t counted on the little bitch suddenly developing a sense of initiative and making her let go, though. Had there been anyone she actually considered important – at all – she might have been somewhat embarrassed that a water elemental of all things had managed to catch her off guard like that with so much as a sting. But there wasn’t, so she didn’t, and since nothing was stinging any more, that left her attention to nail itself back to Linnea. “That’s nice,” she replied automatically, examining her nails, without a single clue as to what the woman had actually said other than it was about releasing her hand. Which she had already done, and now her head felt terribly empty. Something was rattling… “Ohh, but I did. I told you what would happen if you hit me in the face with the bowl – both outcomes, actually. Forgot to mention I considered trying to lobotomising you with your spoon, but really that was just a flight of fancy. I wouldn’t really have done it.” Such lies. This was where Elise always began to wish she had been born with a tail or even little horns. Her personal abnormality was so very subtle it needed pointing out, though it now obviously unnerved the woman quite enough. “Clairsentience, by the way. It’s called clairsentience. And it isn’t an underhanded trick because I can’t ever switch it off. You really shouldn’t just jump the gun like that,” she chided, eyes boring into Linnea’s as she rose, just waiting for her to actually make eye contact. But stop her from leaving? Mm… No. Not quite, though it did cross her mind in the form of dragging her back by her hair. Shifting to rest her chin in her hand, Elise slowly slid her legs out from under the table and into Linnea’s path. “I’m sure she’ll be just fine,” she assured in her sweeter-than-thou voice. “Trust me; I’m a doctor.” And doesn’t that just terrify you?
Yet again Linnea doubted that anything she said was being taken serious, or that it mattered whether she believed in god or not. That was a personal view. “I don’t.” But it was true that she did not. Maybe once she had, before Jokull. But then she had been married to him and her life had become as it was. She had prayed so many times that the words had been burned into her skull and yet what had happened? Nothing. Things grew worse. So if there was a god or a goddess or a great being somewhere in the sky that watched after them then it did not care for her and she did not care for it. Demons existed, angels existed according to the news as well, but that did not mean that god or whichever name you called Satan by did. “Reactions to actions... not what you would do all on your own.” Until that bit about lobotomizing. That had been a great fear of Linnea’s for a time and she tensed just at the idea of it. It was made that much worse by the fact that this woman was likely capable of doing it and once it had been done there was nothing that could be done to change it. “Clairsentience, thank you, I’ll remember that.” And she would. Just like she would remember this doctor’s name and those eyes that did not stay the same as they were supposed to. Linnea had met people whose eye color could vary depending on what they were wearing or maybe their mood, but it was always the same basic shade. Brown to blue? That did not happen. Only it does and it did right here. What color would they be if I looked again? Linnea kept her eyes somewhere else until a pair of legs presented themselves in her way. Of course she could have stepped around them, or even over them, but for all she knew Elise would decide to trip her. Humiliation was not something that Linnea had ever bore well no matter who was responsible for it. That being tripped by a demon would perhaps be less embarrassing and more potentially horrifying than being tripped by a dog or a human did not cross her mind. That and she mentioned her daughter. At least she didn’t use her name. Because somehow, to her, that would be worse. Bad enough she used my name. “I am sure you are... adept in your field of study, Elise, but since you are not my daughter’s I’d rather have another doctor’s word for it. If you’ll excuse me.” Linnea did not step over people. Nor did she run unless they were named ‘Jokull’ and he was dead. Even if her heart was racing out of control and she was certain that her head was starting to spin from the effort of pretending to stay calm. I need Strike.
Interesting how many people didn’t believe in god these days. Were they aware that a lack of faith was actually a sin? That the faith didn’t necessarily have to be directed at a deity didn’t not phase her in the slightest. She had already decided Linnea was committing a sin. The thought amused her. “Clearly you don’t know me very well,” Elise rolled her eyes at the very idea of being a purely reactionary creature. Where would be the fun – or the initiative – in that? Nowhere, that’s where. You would have to sit and wait and twiddle your thumbs until someone else did something appropriate to go and take a stab at. Or several. Nobody said how many turns you were allowed between waits. “Anyway, that’s just not true, now was it? The spoon lobotomy was all my idea – and a terrible one at that, actually, since the handle would just mangle the inside of your head. I much prefer trapping them inside it…” Her lips pressed together just at the very idea. If someone were to put a real orbitoclast into her hand right then, there was really no telling how many people she would render useless lumps of flesh with it. This hospital did not ‘believe’ in lobotomising patients, though – not even those who probably really did need it from a medical viewpoint – so eventually her bottom lip just jutted out. One day she would tie them all down and take a power drill to their frontal lobes. “We’re also known as touch-knows,” she added, smiling as she considered suggesting waterboarding as a form of treatment. Somehow I don’t think they’re that stupid anymore. I bet her husband would have let me implement it. No, all these higher-uppers were watery fools like Linnea. Next time she put ice in their veins she would take a hammer to them to see if they shattered of just fell to the floor with a fleshy thud. “Because we touch—” She ran a hand over the table where Linnea had been sat. “—And know… Kajsa may need a psychiatrist? Ooh, I’d be thrilled to help!” Something told her she wouldn’t be allowed to, though. Not unless this Kajsa was sent to her directly. Then tough kitty paws. “No, you’re not,” Elise corrected from over the top of her soda as she took another drink. “But yes, I am.” And then some, with that extra Elise flare. “And I really don’t feel like—” That irritating beeping was her pager. Carefully replacing the lid on her drink because she wasn’t throwing it away when she hadn’t finished with it, she quickly rose, brushed herself off and directed a bright smile at the elemental who was now strangely taller than her. “The lunatics are on the grass,” she waved one hand idly at the window. “But this has been lovely! We should do it again some time.” The same hand came up to cup Linnea’s face suddenly then pat her cheek, the last of her mental energy focussing on the other woman in the hope her own subconscious would be slapping her in the face for a while. If not, well, the contact would have unnerved her. “You should bring Strike!” Whatever that was. But just to such that beeping up, she would settle for sliding past with a laugh, all-but skipping out of the cafeteria. A girl had to reclaim her crazies.
I am very glad that I don’t know you very well. Elise did not seem like the sort of person that one got to know very well without losing a few important limbs or braincells. Along with their sanity. Linnea may not have been the most stable woman in the world, or even just the most stable water elemental in Scarlet Oak, but she knew that she could be much worse. So much worse. She had been worse. “Ah, of course, how could I forgot.” Lobotomy via spoon. Lobotomy at all; that a lobotomy had been mentioned in a conversation dealing with her - no, no not even just that, but it had been meant that it could be done to her... Linnea wondered if that would haunt her dreams. All I wanted was something to eat. “Yet again, thank you for sharing these new things with me.” Things that Linnea likely did not need to know, they were actually odds and ends, but it was a knee-jerk reaction. Once she had been told that it was better to say something, anything, than to just sit in silence and let the time pass. Whether or not that was true was still debatable. Her eyes did harden at the mention of Kajsa and she felt one hand ball into a fist. It was the use of the name that did it, using the name made it so much more real a threat. Just stay away from my children. The words caught in her throat and it took all her effort not to sag with relief when Elise was distracted by her pager. For a moment she had thought that the demon - demon! - was going to say that she did not feel like excusing her. “Perhaps.” When hell, since there must be a hell if there were demons, froze over. Linnea wanted to collapse back into her seat and be relieved that Elise was gone, but there was something just... no, no that was not really there. Linnea placed a hand at her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut, counting to ten before she opened them again. Another flicker of - no. Linnea turned on her heel and walked in the opposite, the wrong, direction. It’s not there, it’s not. Because it could not be. Though even if it was then it would be better to deal with than Doctor Elise de Listenois. She would have to pay close attention to the names of the staff should anyone she know need to come here for something psychologically-related.