Capt. Babs Greenling (is a ray of f'ing sunshine) (bite_sized) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2015-09-08 22:14:00 |
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When Babs had been in school, her music teacher had made her class listen to a record by Billie Holiday. A song, a haunting song that still gave her the chills had played. The lyrics compared fruit to the dead. Of course, Holiday had been singing about lynchings in the South. But Babs had been reminded of that song over and over again in the last few weeks. Young men, good men, dying and changing in death. Corpses that didn’t get real burials.
Brian in Pickens, swelling and headless. Gray… who knew. Well, Savannah would, likely. But that wasn’t a great intro. ‘Hi, Savannah. How’s Gray’s lifeless body? Still lifeless I’m hoping.’ See, Babs wasn’t all bad bedside manner. She was trying, she was learning.
She walked to the Oval Office with a slow gait, not totally sure what to do or say. She’d gotten the shower she’d needed desperately, she was even in clean clothes- brown pants, a basic tank top, her boots. Her hair knotted on her head. Hell, she’d even washed Kaleo. The dog was finally back to hydrated and happy, but he was still sluggish as he trod next to her.
Fist up, knuckles on the door.
“Savannah?” she asked. Her southern drawl had thickened after her time with Cal the day before. Before she’d learned all about the joys of the Capitol, and Gray’s death. She still had questions, but she could wait. What she needed to know was what had been going on in her clinic since she’d been gone. A clinic she’d barely set up before high tailing it out of town.