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[transfundere]

"Please leave a message. Should you require immediate medical assistance, please seek closer help and I will attend you as soon as possible."

Comments

[transfundere]

He moved in during the... difficulties of the flood where much of the conflict came to a head and has not moved out as of yet. His coffin rests in my sitting room.

[ A shrug as he keeps petting Jet. ]

[cactusy]

[... Huh.]

A lot of people do that here.

[Shaw says, in a tone of voice that indicates that she's trying hard not to judge, but that she very much Doesn't Get It.]

[transfundere]

I think... I make him feel safe. And that his choice is a show of trust in me.

Neither of those things are something I feel worth damaging not to have a roommate. My rooms are large enough and I have lived in much closer quarters..

[cactusy]

This isn't you-specific, and I'm not trying to insult you, but, uh-- this kind of thing is a reason why I think most of the wardens are crappy at being objective here.

[transfundere]

[ A raised eyebrow. ]

Why so?

[cactusy]

Just seems like putting friendship over the job. What happens if you have to make a tough call that he doesn't like? Is that something you feel like you could do when he's not just your inmate, but your roommate?

[transfundere]

[ An easy enough nod. ]

My 'tough calls' are in his best interest, for his greatest good. Seeing him daily is a reminder of my responsibility to him.

And you seem to forget that he is also my roommate. Meaning that he must make the choice between our friendship and progress... and his more short-sighted or destructive impulses. He values our relationship, just as I do.

[cactusy]

I don't know what the hell I'd've done if I got an inmate who expected me to move him into my place.

[This is muttered mostly to herself, as she slides the disc into the player.]

[transfundere]

He actually moved himself. He had one of his friends help him, from what I understand. His manager, I think- Mr. Doe?

[cactusy]

I mean, if he'd expected me to have him as a roommate. I've had roommates before, I went to eight years of college and I was in the Marines, but-- I don't know.

[Glancing up from the TV, she adds:]

I was thinking I'd get some food started, then we can watch while it's in the oven. You good with that?

[transfundere]

Of course. I would never object to my host's plans. But thank you.

[ He's also pretty content to sit over by the TV and pet the dogs. ]

[cactusy]

Figured if it's about the smell for you, having something cooking in the oven for a while would be better than just watching me eat it.

[As she moves into the kitchen area, she tries to think of how to adjust: to take her bafflement over his wardening style and turn it into something more sociable.]

Uh-- so I've had roommates before, like I said. Most modern American college kids live in dorms, and in med school I rented an apartment with a few other girls. Did you live at home when you were studying medicine?

[transfundere]

For some of my time. Then, when I took my apprenticeship under Dr. Carrel, I stayed with another of my fellows.

[cactusy]

Oh, yeah? Did you get along, or was he a pain in the ass?

[transfundere]

We got on rather well, actually. I... think it was because we had both grown up with siblings. We were used to... sharing, as it were. Co-habitating with someone.

He had his quirks, obviously, and I have mine, but by and large, we were both too exhausted to make much of a fuss.

[cactusy]

Med school's like that in the future, too. Some things never change.

[transfundere]

I had little doubt.

I also had a breach where I was a doctor in a more modern era and that made sure I knew.

What brought you to medical school? Given you currently do not practice?

[cactusy]

I wanted to be a doctor since I was ten. Emergency medicine, specifically.

[transfundere]

A desire we share, then.

I assume something happened to change the course of things?

[cactusy]

[Shaw's hands still on the jar of spice that she's holding, just a half-second of hesitation as she considers how to answer.]

Wasn't right for me.

[She says, as she shakes nutmeg into the casserole dish. Then she amends:]

I wasn't right for it.

[transfundere]

[ There are any number of reasons why that might be the case and given the difficulties of his profession, he knows that most of them are intensely personal and for someone who felt the calling only to find themselves unsuitable, often painful. He won't pry for more. ]

You seem to have found another calling. Unsurprising, in someone clearly intelligent, passionate, and possessing the sort of drive that you do.