Yvette, Forge - Monday morning.

[x-penance.livejournal.com]

Forge comes down to the medlab to solve Yvette's clothing problems. There's another escape.




Paige had explained that her friend who was very good at making things would be visiting today. Something about clothes that wouldn't shred with contact with her skin, which Yvette was very much in favour of. They'd given up on the hospital gowns - those barely lasted a day, besides the whole 'no back' issue - and moved onto a seemingly unending supply of sweats, all marked with an 'X'. She still managed to destroy them, but at a slower rate - her infirmary room was steadily collecting small balls of fluff from the rasping of her skin against the fleecy cotton. The scary doctor was muttering darkly about it. So the idea that there was an alternative was certainly enough to brave meeting another person in this strange place.

Forge stepped into the small room, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He checked his PDA, then looked around. "All right, Miss... Yvette..." He turned his head from side to side, puzzled, before looking down and noticing Yvette. "Oh, there you are. Wow. I think you're the first person here I actually have to look down to talk to. I'm Forge," he said by way of explanation, setting down the bag and holding out his metallic left hand for a handshake. He'd been warned about touching the girl, but figured that if she knew at least part of him was safe to make contact with, it could put her somewhat at ease.

"You are being Paige's friend?" At his nod, the small red girl crept forward, not entirely sure about this whole business. "I am pleased to be meeting you, Mr. Forge," she said, stretching out her finger-talons very carefully and resting them on his outstretched hand. Her eyes widened as there was a slight metallic scraping noise, but no blood and no sign of pain from him. "You are not being cut?" she asked, soft voice raising a little in wonderment.

"Nope," Forge said, crouching down to Yvette's level. "Metal. Well, part of me, anyway." He rapped his knuckles against his leg, the metallic ring sounding even through his loose jeans. Inwardly, he was rather amused at the 'Mr. Forge', but decided not to disabuse the young girl of her politeness.

"Paige says you're chewing through clothes pretty fast, huh? She had kind of the same problem. You know, with her skin?" He pantomimed pulling at his skin like Paige did to husk into a new form. "And as much fun as running around naked might be, they kind of like clothes here. So," he pulled a swatch of fabric out of the duffle, "can I see your arm? Like this?" Forge pushed back his sleeve and held his arm out in demonstration.

Yvette nodded uncertainly and pushed back the sleeve of the over-sized sweat shirt she was wearing. The material shredded under contact from her hands, the talons slicing it into ribbons, and she made a little noise of impatience. Holding out her arm, she tilted her head a little at him, curious. "Part of you is metal?" she asked hesitantly, not wanting to be rude. "This is happening, how?"

"Accident when I was..." he looked over at the clipboard quickly, "just a little older than you. A bomb... you know bomb, yeah? Boom?"

He stretched the cotton fabric between his hands, dragging it along Yvette's forearm. As expected, her razor-sharp skin shredded the cloth as if he'd dragged it against broken glass. Forge held the cloth up to the light, frowning. "Iiiiinteresting..." he murmured.

She flinched a little at the 'boom', but nodded. "Yes, I am knowing what 'bomb' is," she murmured. "Paige is saying you make things, yes?"

"I make things, yes," Forge repeated with a nod. "That's what I do. Paige turns into things, Doctor Voght goes all misty, and I invent things. Like this," he said, withdrawing a square of matte black material from the duffle. "Watch this..."

He draped the fabric over Yvette's outstretched talons and pulled, watching her fingers slice right through it. But as he held it up before her eyes, they could both see the fabric knitting back together, repairing the cuts in seconds. "It's all complicated polymers and memory fabric, but the point is, you can cut it or tear it, and it'll un-cut or un-tear itself."

Yvette's eyes flared bright blue, almost like a strobe, and her mouth made a small 'O' of wonder and awe. She reached out and ran her finger down the cloth, tearing it almost in two, and again it knitted back together. "~This is like magic,~" she said, dropping into her own language for a moment before realising her mistake. "You are making clothings out of this? For me?" she asked, turning that blank glowing stare onto him.

Forge nodded, smiling at the young girl. "I can, yeah. Or rather, I can ask Clarice to - she's one of the girls here that makes clothes. But for the moment, I have a little something that may make things less problematic."

He reached into the bag again, pulling a thick glove over his right hand. With his left, he plucked out what looked like a roll of bandages, made of the same dull black fabric. Gingerly, he took Yvette's left wrist in his hand, and started wrapping the fabric around it, carefully up over her palm and threading it around her fingers, until most of her hand was covered in the thin material that was constantly tearing and repairing itself as she twitched her fingers.

"Now, a test." He grabbed the last item in the bag, a shiny green apple, and tossed it over to Yvette.

She caught it by reflex, and then made a soft noise of surprise as the apple remained unharmed. Dragging her exposed fingertip over the skin sliced into it deeply, but her covered hand did no damage. "Oh," she whispered, blinking very hard for a moment, despite the fact her mutation didn't let her cry.

Looking up at Forge again, she folded her hand into a loose fist and very, very carefully, poked him in the right arm with her covered knuckles. If she had been able to move her facial muscles more, she would have been grinning broadly. "No cut!" she exclaimed.

Laughing, Forge tapped Yvette on the nose with one metal finger. "That's the idea, no cut. We can make you... hmm... probably a few sets of clothes with this fabric, and then that'd let you wear regular clothes over them. Better than hospital gowns, right?"

"Much better," she replied emphatically, giving the impression she was turning up her nose in disgust at the thought of the hospital gowns. She contemplated her hand in Forge's rough bandaging job. "Is to be making gloves, perhaps?" she suggested, and then looked down at her feet, where she had her toe-talons slightly dug into the floor to keep her grip on the tile. "And ... how you say? Feet-gloves?" The thought of regular clothes again, like she'd used to wear was almost intoxicating, and she giggled a little at herself. "Not being shoes... ah, I cannot remember him in English."

"Socks," Forge said, nodding his head. "And gloves. And maybe a hat, since winter's coming." He took a close look at Yvette's hair, the strands like thin crystal, probably as sharp as razor wire. "So, why don't I go get some of this fabric ready and see if Clarice can't pick it up, and we might have you some outfits soon, okay?"

"Yes, please very much, Mr. Forge!" Caught up in the excitement of it all, she poked him again with her knuckles, giggling to herself. "Pretty new clothings! I am thanking you very much, for to be helping me like this." Her English was getting more muddled too.

Laughing along with her, Forge reached out and tweaked the girl's small nose. "Of course," he reassured her, "It's what we do here. We help. And you know," he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Since we already know you're good at getting around all sneaky, how about we sneak out past Doctor Voght and get some food, huh? Our little escape?" He gave another smile, sticking his left hand out to Yvette in an invitation as he headed for the door.

Escape from the scary doctor lady? Forge didn't have to ask her twice. She immediately joined him, carefully wrapping her long taloned fingers around his metal hand. "No air tunnels this time," she said, with another of those little giggles. "I think Mr. Forge is too big for that."

"Later I'll tell you a little story about a casino in Las Vegas..." Forge said, looking out the door to see Dr. Voght in her lab coat at the far end of the hall. "But for the moment - run!"

With a breathless squeak, Yvette followed him as he sprinted down the hall, her toes leaving little gouge-marks behind her and her hand holding firmly onto his.