Below are the 5 most recent journal entries recorded in Clair Anne Russell's LiveJournal:

Friday, January 19th, 2007
12:24 am	Clair rarely bothered coming out of the TARDIS these days.  There was no point.  She felt strongly that she wasn't welcome to practice medicine any longer, and spending time in the Sanctuary, with its frequent mutant population, just aggravated Russell and gave her headaches.  So she's holed up in one of the TARDIS's libraries, the most out-of-the-way one she could find.  She has a thermos full of tea, a great big shawl in an awful shade of maroon that she found in a closet, and a great many rotten escapist novels which she's attempting to lose herself in.  But she still spends most of her time staring into the shelves, not seeing them or anything else.  Despite all this comfort, she feels raw, on edge, unable to fully relax into anything.  Because she doesn't have anything that's her to relax into, not anymore.  Everything's gone.  Russell's cause, Trevor, her life as a doctor...  All of it. All of it. (28 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, September 24th, 2006
12:25 am	The light in Clair's implant hasn't gone out in three days, not since Norman Osborn mentioned a genetic bomb.  Russell gripped on the idea like the madwoman she is, using it to bolster herself.  She drove Clair into hiding, into searching for a way back to their own world.  No luck. So by the time the Doctor finds her, she's hidden herself in a room off the Clinics, armed with a few stolen scalpels and a mirror, bent under a bright light and painstakingly trying to cut the implant out.  There's blood all down one side of her face, but the vampire mutation is stong enough that her wobbly incisions keep healing up on her. (14 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, September 20th, 2006
12:39 am	I'm not talking to you. Didn't say you were. Shut up. No. Shut UP. Pull it out. No. I'll shut up if you do. Yes, because we'll be dead. They're lying. It's not that deeply integrated. They want to keep you under control. Shut up. You know I'm smarter, let me get you out of this. I don't need you. Liar. (Comment on this)
Monday, June 5th, 2006
5:09 pm	The portal leads out of an empty phone booth in a rather unsavory part of New York City. Not as bad as the understreets, but still, hardly the place for a small woman to live alone. So it might be a surprise when Clair leads the four Doctors down a dark alley, clearly sure of her destination. Which is a bridge. No, wait, it's under the bridge. Hidden behind the scraggly bushes, right at the point where bridge meets earth, there's a low structure of cardboard boxes and scavenged pallets and plastic tarp, a veritable fortress of junk. The door is obscure, but Clair leads them to it, unbarring it. Inside is warm and airless. Every crack and seam to the outside is sealed with duct-tape. The ceiling is low, barely five feet off the ground. The tech level within is incredibly incongruous with the architecture. Electricity is being leeched off the cables that line the underside of the bridge, powering an array of equipment that would be the pride and joy of any legitimate research companies. And a few pieces that would be the shame of those same companies. Meji's body lies on a table to one side, the skull open and covered in translucent plastic. The furred woman, an anthropomorphic feline, is still breathing, a tube down her throat. Her heart beats as if nothing at all were wrong. On the other side of the room, a skinny young man, to all appearances human, floats face down in a tank of something milky and viscious, a huge array of some sort fixed to his spine and the back of his head. Moniters beep and systems hum everywhere. "We've been here for a few months," says Clair relucantly, clearly sickened. (31 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, April 3rd, 2006
2:34 pm	[Email to Nicole] I can't stay. I can't go. So I have to do. Something. You didn't leave me anything. ANYTHING. [/Email] Hitting send, Clair turned away from her computer, to the vampire bound to her jury-rigged working table. She grinned, raising the scalpel to where Vren can see it. "You don't even look like him. That makes it easier." (74 Comments |Comment on this)