babs ℘ krystelle mariette deroux (photographics) wrote in ourtrueselves, @ 2010-04-05 10:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | krystelle deroux |
Who: Krystelle Deroux
What: Recalling the last few days
When: Monday Morning
Where: Hilton Newark Penn Station
"Take it easy," they had told her. Krystelle refused. A concussion wasn't bad in comparison to those who had been shot. And really, she had been mentally preparing herself for the worst, but expecting the best. That's how Babs worked and Krystelle was more than happy to comply. Waking up Saturday afternoon and realizing that she didn't recall anything after making sure Mike got to the nurse after he had been shot was rather irritating. So was the dull headache that refused to go away. Bruises and scratches would undoubtedly go away, but what about memories? Would they return? Krystelle examined the bruise on her arm forearm, clearly her biggest and ouchiest bruise. She half smiled. Well, she was sure that she could count on her team to fill her in later and even if they didn't know, at least she was safe and well. However, she doubted that she would want to worry anyone with such a question, nor did she want to be dragged off to a hospital when she was fine, really. Sitting by the window of her hotel room that had become her temporary home, she had finished the orange juice she had order for room service but had not touched any of her food. Who could eat at a time like this? A celebration was clearly in order but how long would it last before the next group popped up? They had to be ready. The medical portion of things were a disaster, in Krystelle's point of view. It wasn't organized enough. Others could have been saved quicker, hurt less, and be out of the hospital sooner. If -- no, when this happened again, would the nonreincarnate medical services, the public service, be willing to help out the reincarnates? In comics, it was written over and over how the humans either shunned the 'superheroes' in fear of the unknown. The hero would only try to help only to be made out into the bad guy. Would they need to prepare for that? Were they no longer a secret? Flipping through USA Today, her thoughts deviated elsewhere. She was more than relieved that her old emergency contact number was her mother, which meant no one had called her father. It was also what got Krystelle to jump out of the stretcher they were taking her out on, convince them that she was a med student and explained she had no symptoms of anything, and stay long enough to see the CORE Headquarters collapse. But after one mission was another. She had to start the official staffing of her medical research facility. Krystelle had already asked her father to work on a blueprint of the building and she had received funding from various medical groups for the construction of the place. Now all she needed to do was add in a few stories underground for strictly Justice League 2.0 purposes and continue to read up on medical practices and it would all be better soon. At times, Krystelle did feel like she was moving very fast, a whole completely new life, despite having lived with Barbara Gordon in her head for many years longer. Perhaps it was different because she let her often take control, and soon enough, Krystelle was becoming the Oracle. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Suddenly, dizziness washed over her, the windows seemed to be letting in too much sun and it hurt her eyes. Her dull headache had now evolved into a pulsating one. Upon shutting the curtains, Krystelle went to lay down on the bed, pulling the covers over herself. Perhaps she ought to take it easy.. just for another day or so. |