Wake me up before you go go (Open)

Sitting uncomfortably on the examination table, Ghost watched as DocProf went to attend to someone who was actually bleeding. Ghost dipped her head in silent greeting to yet another Mansion resident she had never met and felt guilty. Ah- maybe she could come back for her consultation at another time? She could get her bullet cut out any day assuming there weren't this many emergencies all the time... which come to think of it, there hardly seemed a dull moment in the infirmary here.

Ghost sliiiiid her booty off the paper liner and planted her feet firmly on the ground again. She had to pass closer to the gurney and the girl, who seemed clearly uncomfortable, struggled to say something. Never one to deny someone aid, Ghost leaned in to hear her sickly request for water. She tried not to cringe at the rose girl who sounded so sickly, and instead focused on getting water from the sink several paces away.

When she turned around, the girl was pulling all kinds of sprouts from her... skin? Ghost rushed over and slid her hand behind the girl's head. "Doc?" But he seemed lost in the healing process. It would take him a few moments to extricate himself no matter how much panic colored Ghost's words.

She was careful. Careful to pour only little bits of water at a manageable pace and careful not to freak out if some kind of tendril of something touched her, wrapped around her wrist... or moved under the girl's skin? Holy cow, this was one sick plant girl! "Y-you're going to be okay." Ghost tried to calm her down. Panic never helped Ghost control her mutation, and this definitely looked and felt like a lack of control. "Try to breathe normal. What can I do to help?"

Nobody had ever come to comfort her when she couldn’t control what her body did, not her mother, not her father, nobody. It was as if they were afraid of what may happen to them if they simply told her that it would be alright, and that she was safe. As people came over to try and help her, she knew a moment of confusion… Why? Why were they there, touching her and trying to help her, when she was a complete stranger to them, and perhaps dangerous?

When the first one talked to her, telling her to breathe normally, she tried to obey, and took in gulps of air, closing her eyes tightly and trying to relax. Somebody in her position would probably start to cry about then, but not her, she was actually trying not to panic. Despite her efforts to breath, the plants still grew from her skin, ivy seemed to sprout into the tube that connected her to the bag. She closed her eyes and tried to will it to stop, tried to shut down the part of her brain that told the plants to grow.

It was, indeed, a painful experience. Sweat poured down her face as the roots burned their way through her, her breaths rasping in and out. Xavia closed her eyes tightly and tried to will it to stop again. For the first time since becoming what she was, she was able to stop the plant growth with a grinding halt. It was the first time she could control her mutation when she was under stress, which was a huge step for her.

She could hear the voice of the second girl, telling her she was safe where she was at. The plant girl opened her eyes to see the people who came to help and comfort her, and she smiled weakly, looking down to see the plants wither and fall off on their own. The smell around her shifted back to the original scent of roses.

The Doc-Prof came, of course, to help, and seemed, at least in her opinion, to be fascinated by the events. But he wasn’t shocked enough, most likely, to not do anything. He was checking her vitals and went to remove the contaminated IV tube, and taking the glass of water from ghost to press to Xavia’s lips.

She drank thirstily of the cool water. What was very odd was that she seemed to perk up in color, going from pale to almost healthy with the simple act of drinking the water that Ghost had brought for her, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. It was as if she was a plant in her entirety.

What an odd, odd girl she was.

When she was through with the glass of water, she was able to speak more clearly, though her voice was faint because she was timid in nature, “I thank you.” She looked to each of the girls and the Doc-Prof and relaxed back against the pillow. They obviously hadn’t run away from her mutations, so perhaps there were some good people out there that weren’t going to call her a freak for something she couldn’t help having.

Strangely enough, the girl seemed to calm down after Alexandra had spoken. Moments passed in fast forward for the molecule manipulator, for a few seconds being unaware of what was happening around her. The question ‘why’ was still fresh in her mind and it took her a great amount of focus to gather herself back. Blinking, she saw the doc prof checking the girl on the bed and decided to go and wash her hands. It would get rid of the awful sight of blood on her hand and hopefully, it would help her concentrate. As she made her way to the sink, she heard the other girl in the room talking with her and introducing herself as Ghost. Alexandra vaguely remembered her from the movie night Shin had. “Yep, camera. I am Alexandra, molecule manipulator.” she said as she turned on the water, her head turned into the white-haired girl’s direction, the same polite smile as before on her lips.

Alexandra gulped down and forced herself to look at her hand. The swirls of blood in the sink, her blood, gave her the nausea feeling again. Turning her hand she noticed that the wound was almost healed, the blood in the sink was the one that was on her hand before the healing process began. As she washed herself, she watched with the corner of her eye the other persons inside the room and listened to Ghost questions.

Turning off the water, she took a paper towel and wiped her hands then disposed of the used material. Her frame moved next to bed again. “Let’s take it easy.” she said to Ghost with a wink. Her eyes turned to the other girl. “Do you experience any kind of amnesia? You remember your name or know where you are? In case you don’t this is the Xavier Institute. Like I said, safe.” A comforting smile appeared on her face. Well, she would have liked to be treated like this when she woke up from her coma. Instead, she had to deal with everything on her own, just like she always did. And the slate-faced boss too.

"Oh please don't say it is a curse. In time I am sure you will know it as a blessing." Ghost tried to remain encouraging to the plant girl even if she was currently discouraged.

Well, if the sun was good, the sun was what Xavia would get. Ghost made her way to the curtains that had previously encircled Xavia's bed closing it off from the rest of the room. Ghost first worked to tuck those back and next went for the curtains that shielded the room from direct sunlight from the outside. It was a small window and they might have to move the plant girls bed into the rays, but at least the sun came through from that direction.

Ghost stepped out of the way of the golden beams of light and was pleased to see that they settled over the approximate location of Xavia's legs underneath the bed sheet. "It is nice to meet you Xavia and you too Alexandra." Hands on hips, Ghost looked around before she remembered what else it was that she had thought to do to help the plant girl. Clothes. "Oh! I'll be right back with some clothes for you. Can't run around the mansion mooning everyone in your fashionable backless hospital gown can you?"

There was a closet of donated clothes that the Mansion kept stocked to give out to people who passed through and needed the help. Ghost had even accepted clothes from this closet when she first arrived at the Mansion with nothing. Returning with a loose tee shirt that sported a poorly spray painted rose tattoo on the front and a long green skirt, Ghost tossed the clothes at the end of the bed. The undies would be tucked away between the folds of the skirt. The skirt Ghost picked because... well, she really liked them and there was really no way to tell what size another person was especially when that person had been in a coma an was currently laying down. Yep. Skirts were always a safe bet.

When both of the women spoke, she looked between the two of them. One told her not to call it a curse, and the other was explaining how one would get used to it and that it would become a part of her in time. She did not reply, simply mused and mulled over what they were talking about, considering their words with an expression that bespoke of deep thought.

She watched as Ghost pulled the curtains aside, caramel gaze following her movement. When the woman stepped out of the sunlight, and it started to warm Xavia’s blanket, she eagerly reached long, tapered digits out to touch the warmth in the air, as a houseplant would do. Her fingers trembled, and she closed her eyes.

Sigh. “Thank you.”

Xavia opened her eyes as Ghost went on to speak of getting some clothes, and she was, again, struck by the kindness being shown to her. She was not used to it, and the cracked-in-the-head, plant lady was taken aback. So they were in the same boat as her? They had the same predicament that she had in that they had gifts?

Her lips compressed into a line as she lost herself in thought. She woolgathered the entire time that Ghost was away, up until Alexandra spoke that is. She was about to give a reply to the woman, when Ghost walked back in with the clothing, causing her to give pause.

First, to Alexandra, she said, “I don’t know how I got here.” Honesty was in her voice, which was sounding less accented the more she woke up. It seemed she would only speak very thickly when groggy. She went on, “I wake up here in this bed. Last I remember, I was home with Momma and Poppa, in green house. How did I get here?”

She had completely forgotten about Calley, Kat, and Seizure. It was as if they never existed. Nor did she remember that she had been kidnapped and put into the back of some van to be taken to a lab and studied by the man who made her what she was.

Once upon a time, she had been a normal person. She had been captain of the cheerleading team, and the apple of her dad’s eyes. She had been a spoiled child who lost everything when the experimental cells were put into her body. And then she became a mutant. She had everything, and then, with the blink of an eye, she had nothing but her parents’ love and fear.

It was the type of thing that her parents would not speak of, while sad eyes turned to gaze with pity at their eldest daughter. And now she didn’t even have them. She was all alone and in a strange place with unfamiliar faces and voices that she had never heard, and they, apparently, were just like her.

Xavia wanted to cry.

Swallowing a sob before it even came out, she stiffened and bit hard into her lip. No, no cry, she thought. You will NOT cry. These people were here! They did not know her, but they were being so kind. How could she think that she didn’t have anybody?

“Thank you for clothes,” she said softly, and sat up.

She then wrapped her blanket around her torso to avoid mooning the two women, and turned herself on her bed. Her bare feet made contact with the floor, and she was shakily standing.

Her breaths became heavy as she stood, sweat forming on her brow with the effort it took to do so. That being done, the woman, who was indeed older than a child, took a ffew tentative steps toward the window.

Once there, her head pressed to the glass, and she stared longingly outside, wanting more than anything to be in the greenhouse with her babies. As she stood there, she began to absently talk about what she did know, and that was who she was and where she came from.

“I live in Michigan… I work with my Poppa and Mamma, and my sisters in greenhouse.” She paused for a moment, then went on to amend, “Big greenhouse, with lot of flower and other plant. When may I go home?” Her voice sounded distant as she asked this. She wasn’t even sure she was able to go home. She just knew she was homesick and that she didn’t want to be where she was.

She turned to the other two and relied on the window for support, as she was still weak and shouldn’t have been out of bed. But she didn’t care, it seemed, because the situation warranted her needing any small comfort she could get in a turbulent time.

Xavia moved, then, toward Ghost, taking the clothes that were being offered, and asking tiredly, shoulders squared, “Where is powder room?”