[ Usually, La'an doesn't mind the ship's sonic showers. They do an excellent job of cleaning the body and that's all one really needs from a shower. Today, however, she's missing a proper shower with water that you can feel carrying away the grime of the day. (Or days, in her case.) The sonic shower doesn't provide that satisfying sensation of scrubbing at skin under a stream of scalding hot water, and that's what she desperately wishes for as she waits for dried blood, sweat, and dirt to leave her skin. And her hair — with the braids undone, she can feel the dirty roots and smell the rotting meat stench trapped between the strands.
It takes nearly the entire time Jim is gone for her to feel clean enough. The single-minded purpose helps just as she'd said, her focus narrowed to this simple but necessary task, and when she switches off the shower, she nearly feels like a person again. Standing in front of the mirror reminds her of what she is, though. Broken but not, full of pain and yet so very empty. Bruises and mild scrapes are dotted across her arms and legs like colorful freckles, and there's a particularly nasty bruise on her left side that she'd hardly noticed with everything else. But as she pulls on her sleepwear, black shorts and a tank top, the stiffness in her body is something she can't ignore any longer.
"Welcome, Lieutenant Kirk" might be the best thing she's ever heard, the announcement immediately releasing a tension within her she hadn't realized was there. And his voice follows a few moments later, sounding even more comforting despite the emotion in his words. ]
I'm almost done. [ She calls from behind the closed door, giving herself another once-over and deciding it doesn't matter if he sees her like this. He'd patched up her shredded shoulder and this is nothing compared to that. Her hair, though... She frowns at the tangled mess, picking up the brush and lifting both arms to begin tackling this final task, only for the aforementioned shoulder to twinge in pain. The skin and muscles are still new enough to be tender, and the last thing she needs is to damage the new tissue with her stubbornness.
She's not entirely sure what she intends to do as she sighs and opens the door, stepping out into the main section of her quarters, but another heavy layer of stress falls away from her when she catches sight of him standing there. James T Kirk, looking incredible as always while she's a pale, exhausted mess who looks, accurately so, like she's just been through battle. It's stupid, but there's only one thing she can think to say as she stands there with a brush in her hand and a nervous expression on her face. ] Hi.
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It takes nearly the entire time Jim is gone for her to feel clean enough. The single-minded purpose helps just as she'd said, her focus narrowed to this simple but necessary task, and when she switches off the shower, she nearly feels like a person again. Standing in front of the mirror reminds her of what she is, though. Broken but not, full of pain and yet so very empty. Bruises and mild scrapes are dotted across her arms and legs like colorful freckles, and there's a particularly nasty bruise on her left side that she'd hardly noticed with everything else. But as she pulls on her sleepwear, black shorts and a tank top, the stiffness in her body is something she can't ignore any longer.
"Welcome, Lieutenant Kirk" might be the best thing she's ever heard, the announcement immediately releasing a tension within her she hadn't realized was there. And his voice follows a few moments later, sounding even more comforting despite the emotion in his words. ]
I'm almost done. [ She calls from behind the closed door, giving herself another once-over and deciding it doesn't matter if he sees her like this. He'd patched up her shredded shoulder and this is nothing compared to that. Her hair, though... She frowns at the tangled mess, picking up the brush and lifting both arms to begin tackling this final task, only for the aforementioned shoulder to twinge in pain. The skin and muscles are still new enough to be tender, and the last thing she needs is to damage the new tissue with her stubbornness.
She's not entirely sure what she intends to do as she sighs and opens the door, stepping out into the main section of her quarters, but another heavy layer of stress falls away from her when she catches sight of him standing there. James T Kirk, looking incredible as always while she's a pale, exhausted mess who looks, accurately so, like she's just been through battle. It's stupid, but there's only one thing she can think to say as she stands there with a brush in her hand and a nervous expression on her face. ] Hi.