"Please, sit down." I motioned to the bed as I continued to type a few things into the last person's file.
"Thank you." She spoke softly in some sort of accent. French. No, it seems a tad more latin-based. It's more like a mix of two similar tongues.
"So," I sighed, trying to keep a positive attitude as I spun around in my seat, "what brings you to Freelancer? Fame? Wealth?"
"No where else." She ducked her head down, pulling at the rim of a large, white shirt around her body. She wore that and what looked like pajama bottoms.
"No where else." I repeated her words, feeling my face drop, "You have to be a bit more specific." I glanced at the back of her jaw, watching as some lost flesh the began to heal itself once again. It looked almost as if she were... decomposing... but it was obvious she was living.
"I... can't find home... so a friend dragged me here." She tried to explain, fumbling against her own words.
"I know what it's like to not be able to find home." I chuckled, picking up my stethoscope and calmly approaching the woman, "So, you're telling me that you don't want to be here."
"Better than civ... civeny... ci..."
"Civilization?" I laughed, lifting up the back of her shirt. The same wounds at her jaw were scattered in patches, "Gross."
"What?" She turned her head to me, completely oblivious.
"Um." I eyed a specific patch, which desperately need treating, "There are sores all over your body. Did you fall or something?"
She looked at me with a confused expression, "Sores?"
I lunged over to my desk, pulling a mirror from a drawer, "Just look at this."
She turned her head as best as she could as I angled the mirror, "Dégoûtant." She sneered.
"I'm going to have to treat these before anything else." I poked at a sore, causing her to flinch.
"Mmhm." She forced out in a pained voice.
"Alright." I sighed, eying one of the lesions, "Let me go grab my tools."
"Well, otherwise, you are the spitting image of health." I spoke with a satisfied tone, turning to my computer, "So, what's your name."
"Michele Jay Walker, but-"
"Michele." (Meekellay) I began typing in here name, "Mind if I call you Michelle?" (Mishell)
"Everyone does." She sighed, leaning her head against the wall.
My computer began to freak out on me, unable to find the girl's personal file, "What the hell?" I began typing again, hoping to fix the problem.
"As I was trying to say-"
"Why is this not working." I examined the monitor.
"Why do you keep interrupting me?" She sneered, shooting a sideways look my way.
"I haven't been interrupting." I laughed, trying to lighten up the eerie mood.
"My files-"
"God dammit." I spoke through grit teeth, watching my monitor fail.
"I don't have any sort of records with the UNSC!" She yelled at me, causing me to straighten out.
"Why don't you have a file?" I watched her in an inquisitive fashion.
"I... just don't." She cowered once again.
"You know, for someone who didn't know the word 'civilization,' you sure seem to be confident with this language."
"Better to fake a couple of words upon meeting than to surprise them." She laughed, "I'm not a fan of being made fun of for not understanding words like 'acquisition,' or 'remuneration.'"
"Well, Miss Smarty."
"Don't patronithise me, I've been speaking this language for two years. I at least understand context. This is one of the harder languages to learn, especially in adulthood."
I looked in the direction of the doorway, later returning my gaze to her, "So, why don't you have a file?" I questioned her with a low voice.
"I just don't." She sighed, glaring daggers into me.
I watched her for a brief moment before letting out a slow exhale, "Alright, we'll create you a file, but if anyone asks, it's the same file as you had during birth." I put the two earbuds into my ear, blaring music as I typed in all the information necessary. Once that was done, I motioned her out of my office, sending her to the cafeteria to get food and team/room assignments.
You could easily say we did not get along well, in the beginning.
dégoûtant- Disgusting (french)
So... shorter chapter. Sorry about that. ;-;
