all_inclusive | Gathering: New Year's Eve Gala

The annual Nexus New Year's Eve gala began at 8 in the evening. Too grand to be contained by the lobby or dining hall, the gardens at the front of the hotel were employed, with long strings of white lights forming a twinkling canopy from the front doors all the way to the hedge maze. The weather was temperate and calm, and the night perfectly clear.

Drinks were served at various bars set up throughout the gardens and lobby, with champagne cocktails being the specialty of the night. Wheeling through the crowd was a bartender with golden cart providing warm drinks on the go: Tom and Jerrys, rum punch, negus, and Irish coffee.

Crisply-dressed wait staff wove through the collected guests with an abundance of hors d'oeuvres for all different tastes. The Bistro remained open with a limited selection of items for those who were wanting something more substantial.

Above the front doors was hung a large, gold-rimmed clock counting down the last hours, minutes, and seconds of the current year.

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"Saved the world, once," Martha says, and it's only because she's drunk that she mentions it, only glibly because that's the only way she can talk about it. "But I'm a rubbish cook, for starters, so I honestly can't do everything," she feels compelled to add.

"I reckon if ye ken save the world a time or two, being able to cook doesna matter quite so much," Jamie says. It's never something he's ever considered, a woman who can't cook, but he supposes in the grand scheme it isna so strange as to be unheard of. If a lady is more focused on other things, cooking's not something that would keep her from being successful.

"Dinna fash yourself about that," he says. "Not that you were."

"That and having a good curry house around the corner," Martha replies with a smirk, though she realises after she says it that Jamie will have zero frame of reference for this. "You say not to worry, but my auntie still can't believe I can't make a decent pepper soup. Never mind that I could sew someone's leg back on, given the right equipment."

She winks at him--she can't help it.

Jamie laughs a little, more relaxed and more comfortable with Martha than he's been with anyone in a while - and certainly more than he's been with anyone else here in the Nexus. "I think I'll take the mending over the cooking. I ken how to cook well enough to keep myself and others alive but I canna save a life. I value that skill more than anything else, I think."

Martha had to stop herself from saying 'och, Jamie' involuntarily--she didn't want him to think she was mocking him, she'd just heard 'och, Martha' way too many times from Ails, one of her flatmates at uni. "Hey, eating's a damn big part of staying alive," she pointed out. "But there're a few things you can learn to do, doctor-wise. Anyone can be a first aider, do CPR, as long as they've got a steady head in a crisis."

She was fairly confident Jamie was one of those people.

"Aye? Well, if you've a mind to teach me, I've a mind to learn." Jamie has always been of the opinion that a good mind is in need of a whetstone and that even the keenest intellect wants for sharpening once in a while. He feels that learning some of Martha (and Claire's, at that) trade might give him something to occupy his time while he bides in the Nexus.

"I'd like to know how to save a life with something more than just my wits."

"Excellent," Martha says; though she's sure the hotel staff are all first-aid trained, it certainly can't hurt to have a good first responder about the place, particularly one who doesn't just up and leave periodically by chance.

She slurps the last out of her glass. "Though I'm assuming you know how to bandage things up, somewhat, if you've been in battle?"

"I do," Jamie confirms. "And I ken about those wee buggers what make ye sick. Germs, aye? Ye must have wine or fire to keep them out, from what Claire tells me. That sounds about right, doesna?"

Of course, germ theory hadn't existed yet--Martha decides to blame this momentary startlement on the booze. "Yeah, germs. Alcohol stops them from breeding, and heat kills them," she explains. "Though there are different kinds of germs, and...this is probably a conversation best had sober, it's all going to seem like a load of rubbish to you."

Half-shouted across a crowded bar, too.

"Ye stay in the hotel most of the time, do ye? We could have some tea and chat about it, teach me what ye know? I'd like to learn it," Jamie confirms. It's the first time he's been excited about something in a while and it feels good to have a drive and a desire to make a difference in the world."

"Here's my room number," Martha says, and tries not to feel like this is sort of the equivalent of giving someone your phone number. "Because that'd be brilliant. Tea and some biscuits and cardiopulmonary resuscitation, it's a game plan."

Gathering: New Year's Eve Gala

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA

Re: Martha Jones - OTA