Joan Watson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
formersurgeon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2016-03-27 09:45 pm
formersurgeon) wrote in thecapitol2016-03-27 09:45 pm
Entry tags:
OPEN
Who| Joan and OPEN!
What| Joan working in the detention center infirmary, keeping her head down
Where| Detention center infirmary
When| After D11 battle, before Snow's assassination
Warnings/Notes| Mention of violence, injury, death, and STDs
When Joan woke up in the Capitol, it was the first time in a long time that she had been brought back to life in Panem. Tough conditions and mandatory training in District 13 had made her whip-thin and wiry. Exactly how much her time with the rebellion had transformed her became starkly apparent when she woke and found herself soft, still thin and athletic but without the strength and toughness she had acquired. It gave her a strange sense of loss. She had struggled with the rebellion, with the initial attitudes of her erstwhile superiors, with being tested and punished, with finally reaching a sense of mutual respect and working hard to be ready, to be useful. The memories remained, but the physical proof was gone.
She fully expected to be interrogated, tortured, brainwashed. Sent to kill her friends. And maybe that would have happened months ago. But now they just sent her to work in the infirmary with a promise that any subversive activity would not go well for her. They needn't have bothered. Joan knew that her position at that time wasn't one where direct conflict would help anyone. And she would never take advantage of her role as a doctor to harm people. They must have known that, since she'd patched up many enemies in the Arenas.
There was one subversive act that she did indulge in, however. The moment she had access to scissors, she hacked off her hair, giving herself a rough utilitarian pixie-cut, like the one she had sported in 13.
Now she moves through the infirmary, quiet, her eyes downcast, taking care of the people who come in sick or injured. With other detainees she's gentle, kind. With their captors she's spare and perfunctory. She's keeping her head down and her ears open, and hoping some opportunity to reconnect with the rebellion presents itself.
What| Joan working in the detention center infirmary, keeping her head down
Where| Detention center infirmary
When| After D11 battle, before Snow's assassination
Warnings/Notes| Mention of violence, injury, death, and STDs
When Joan woke up in the Capitol, it was the first time in a long time that she had been brought back to life in Panem. Tough conditions and mandatory training in District 13 had made her whip-thin and wiry. Exactly how much her time with the rebellion had transformed her became starkly apparent when she woke and found herself soft, still thin and athletic but without the strength and toughness she had acquired. It gave her a strange sense of loss. She had struggled with the rebellion, with the initial attitudes of her erstwhile superiors, with being tested and punished, with finally reaching a sense of mutual respect and working hard to be ready, to be useful. The memories remained, but the physical proof was gone.
She fully expected to be interrogated, tortured, brainwashed. Sent to kill her friends. And maybe that would have happened months ago. But now they just sent her to work in the infirmary with a promise that any subversive activity would not go well for her. They needn't have bothered. Joan knew that her position at that time wasn't one where direct conflict would help anyone. And she would never take advantage of her role as a doctor to harm people. They must have known that, since she'd patched up many enemies in the Arenas.
There was one subversive act that she did indulge in, however. The moment she had access to scissors, she hacked off her hair, giving herself a rough utilitarian pixie-cut, like the one she had sported in 13.
Now she moves through the infirmary, quiet, her eyes downcast, taking care of the people who come in sick or injured. With other detainees she's gentle, kind. With their captors she's spare and perfunctory. She's keeping her head down and her ears open, and hoping some opportunity to reconnect with the rebellion presents itself.
no subject
She tries to hold still as the doctor gets to work, wincing as the wound is pulled open but managing not to jostle her shoulder. "Oh, no," she protests, hissing softly as the saline floods the wound. "I—I couldn't." A pause, and she decides a further comment won't go amiss.
"You were a Tribute, right? I remember seeing your picture, from a long time back."
no subject
"How about you? Were you a Tribute?"
no subject
She's talking too much, she knows, but she's mostly trying to distract from the pain, to keep herself from thinking about it.
no subject
Satisfied that the wound is sufficiently irrigated, she puts the saline aside and picks up the syringe and the bottle of anesthetic. "So," she says, pushing the needle past the seal and into the bottle, drawing the liquid into the syringe, "you're a native, then. Not an off-worlder?"
no subject
Which is why Joan's next question is startling; her shoulders straighten. "No! No, I'm an Offworlder. I've only been here since...well, since the Hell arena. I guess that's what everyone calls it."
no subject
"That's something a lot of the Panem natives don't understand. It's not like we can just go back to being who we were before. Like it or not, this place is a part of us now. A couple little pinches here..." She slid the needle into a couple spots around the wound, injecting the local anesthetic.
no subject
"I understand." She breathes in sharp at the sting of the needle, trying to keep her voice even; it's a tad bit higher when she does resume speaking. "We can't just...pretend we're the same people we were before."