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Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Lilium, Mar 30, 2016.
OOC and Signup
(Placeholder for GM stuff.)
This was a very special day.
The doctor’s lab coat unfurled behind her as she walked, as pristine and impeccably clean as the sterile whiteness of the facility she worked in. There was a pep to her usually brisk, no nonsense pace. A sense of barely contained excitement was visible in the slight movements of her fingers and the gleam of her blue eyes.
Dr. Monica Williams had spent the better part of the past few months working with the determination and unfailing drive of a woman possessed. Soon, sometime within the hour, the patients she had so painstakingly cared for would awaken. The thought brought a proud smile to her rather plain face. Even though she’d had a highly specialized medical team working for her, it had been her expertise and genius that had triumphed in the end. It would be the highlight of any medical professional’s career; if everything worked as it should. Of course, nothing was definite in such matters and there was a very slight chance it wouldn’t pan out as expected.
But she wasn’t nervous. Dr. Williams was never nervous.
Without breaking her stride, she slid out a sleek tablet from her coat pocket. What appeared to be a custom built tablet was so much more advanced than those available on the market. Vitals and various statistics on her patients appeared with a touch of her fingers, the complicated data on screen bringing forth another pleased smile. They would be waking up soon and would no doubt need answers to the many questions that would assail them. The attendants she had assigned to each patient were given clear instructions on how to handle them. The doctor herself would be visiting each of them in turn, of course. She wondered which one would be the first to wake.
Any possible complications that should arise would be readily remedied through the very special bracelet placed on each teen’s left wrist. A type of sedative would be flowing in their bloodstreams, nudging them away from the most violent of reactions or full blown panic attacks.
She hadn’t lost even a single one of them - this time – which was no small feat, considering their circumstances. She hoped they would be more successful than the last ones.
Maribeth - Room 5
Colors and figures, nothing more. This was all Maribeth was able to see as she dreamt.
The girl only knew that she had been sleeping because it was the suddenly and sharp smell of rubbing alcohol, mixed with a smell of disinfectants and sterile metal. It was a strange scent which had suddenly sent Maribeth's brain into overdrive as she began to recall the moments before she had fallen horribly ill. Her father had taken her in to the base hospital, where she had fallen into a sleep induced by a high fever. She had remembered telling her father how she could not stand her head anymore, and how every sound and every touch felt as if she was getting hit by a car. The doctor's had said that they had never seen anything like it, and that they could not find traces of a bacteria or a virus. It was then that Maribeth had slipped under.
A sudden beep made the brunette cringe, which had caused every bone and muscle in her body to ache and protest against the sudden movement. The beeping continued nonetheless, and Maribeth froze as she began to focus on it.
The beeping had actually been from a monitor hooked up to her. She had fallen used to the beeping that had been spread apart and constant while she slept, but now that she was waking, her heart had began to beat faster which caused the monitor to go out of its pattern.
Even with all of the confusion and overwhelming memories of her final moments awake, Maribeth took her time. She had waited until her nose had adjusted to the hospital smell, although it wasn't quite like a hospital. She had also taken the time to try and listen to anything else that would've been abnormal. Finally, the girl had opened her hazel eyes, blinking several times before they adjusted to the light in the room. Being momentarily blinded, Maribeth had groaned in response but found herself unable to make a sound.
Nothing. Instead of her light and soft voice, the girl practically croaked. Her calls for her dad came out in rough and throaty whispers as she began to mildly panic.
The real panic began ones she had tried to lift her hand to her throat and her body felt like it was a thousand pounds. Her eyes widened in fear, and almost immediately they began to tear up as she tried to move more of her limbs and stretch out. The pain was immense as her stiff joints went into motion after, what she had concluded, must have been at least a week.
The voice was enough to send Maribeth jumping in her bed up into a sitting position, which she had quickly regretted from the sudden dizziness.
"Please, lay back down. Miss Wilson, you've been in this state for nearly five months now."
"What?!" Once again her voice came out as a rough whisper, which prompted a woman that had been standing by the door to walk over and hand her a glass of water that was on the side of her full sized bed.
Although Maribeth had been dizzily watching the dark haired woman approach her, she had taken in the fact that everything in the room was white and seemed to be efficiently organized. 'This isn't the hospital I was in.' Although she merely thought that to herself, and seemed reluctant to trust the lady who must have been the nurse, Maribeth took the water and drank it, feeling relieved and satisfied at the same time. She hadn't noticed how thirsty she was up until that moment.
"Where's my dad? Where's my doctor? Where am I? This wasn't my room. My dad is Senior Chief Wilson, can you go find him?"
It was strange for Maribeth to speak to strangers, but the need for some type of reassurance was strong. The girl did not like change and it was apparent in her voice as she spoke to the lady. Even as she checked Maribeth's vitals, she made sure that the nurse knew that she did not want to be touched. It had taken her a few minutes to see that Maribeth was not going to be as compliant as she would have liked. The teenager had even made a note of the bracelet on her left wrist that the so called nurse kept eyeing, whenever she had made any sudden movements.
"You've been under the care of a new doctor, since the ones at the base hospital could not find out what was happening. She'll be with us shortly. There are other patients as well."
Addison Parker - Room 3
There was no graceful, dreamlike awakening for Addison. Those kinds of moments were for cheesy movies and books. No, her awakening was sharp, sudden and filled with sharp pain. The moment her eyes snapped open, she saw numbers dance across her vision. She let out a grunt of pain, then a sigh of relief as the pain subsided.
She moved to sit up, but she felt her abdomen and thighs scream in dull pain. He limbs felt as heavy as logs and her head was foggy. Amidst the pain, she felt a groggy haze in her mind - like she couldn't exactly gather her thoughts. The room around her was all white - the brightness of her surroundings overloading her blurry vision. She forced herself to move past the screaming of her body and sit up, but instantly regretting the dizzy haze from all of the blood rushing from her head.
Addison swiveled her hips to pulling her legs off of the bed, but she was interrupted. A flash of pain stabbed her temples, and the numbers began filling her vision again. She could hear static in her ears that felt as loud as horns. Her temples physically throbbed, giving her the feeling that her brain was about to explode
01010011 01100011 01100001 01101110 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111
A deep, loud cry of pain shattering the silence of her room, the sound coming from the bottom of her stomach. Shear pain filled her head, and forced her knees to buckle. She smacked her face on the floor, but the pain of the flares hit her much harder than the pain of the impact. "Help me!" She cried to no one in particular. She just wanted it to stop - she craved relief from the horrible sting that seared against her temples.
"Careful, Sweetheart." A calm, low voice said. As the pain slowly faded, she registered that the voice belonged to a man. Soon after, a large palm pressed against her back, not rough, but gentle and comforting. "You're okay. You're alright." The voiced soothed.
Tears relentlessly rolled down Addison's cheeks as she tried to steady her breathing. She felt the pain finally cease and sweet relief filled her head. She rolled over and dropped onto her back with a faint thud. For the first time, she saw the face of a man with dark skin. He had a kind smile and a sympathetic look in his eyes, despite the fact that he was at least hundred pounds bigger and looked over a foot taller.
"My name's Ezra. You're alright." The man said.
"I feel sick..." She said, a small bit of alarm in her voice. He nodded, taking her under the shoulder and pulling her up like she was weightless. The man guided her to a white door the flashed open. The whole time, Addison stared at her feet to make sure she didn't trip over her own exhaustion. Despite her efforts, Ezra did most of the work for her, guiding her through the door. On the other side of the door was a small bathroom. As she felt the urge arise, she pulled from his grasp and promptly vomited into the toilet.
The girl leaned back and fell against her knees, her breaths growing quicker. She felt the urge come again, and she repeated the grueling process. Ezra used his large hand to keep her hair out of the way as she vomited a third time. She let out a pathetic whimper as she slumped back against the wall of the bathroom.
The large man flushed the toilet and produced a white square of folded cloth from the pocket of his pants. With her permission, he reached out and wiped her mouth. He pocketed the square as she looked up at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. "What's happening to me?" Addison asked softly.
"I'll be honest, sweetheart. We don't know. We're trying everything in our power to help you. The doctor will be around in time, and she'll explain the situation. For now, it'd be best if you rested." The man's words sparked relief inside her - rest sounded wonderful.
He put a strong hand under her armpit and help her stand. She tried to stand for herself, but her right knee buckled. Ezra caught her before she fell. Without asking, her brought his other arm under her legs and pulled her off the ground, carrying her over to the bed.
As the man laid her down, Addison felt the relief of the softness of her bed. With her remaining strength, she pulled the warm blanket over her body and curled into a small ball, her thin limbs shaking as she laid against the welcoming bed, awaiting the doctors arrival.
[ LEO LANGE - Room 6 ]
The blackness behind his eyes was slow to recede. It was stubborn, persistent in the way that it continued to cling to his foggy mind and tricky in how it lulled him back to sleep every few hours. All around him, Leo was beginning to notice more, his senses returning to him as his head lolled from side to side in an uncomfortable bed—one that didn't feel a damn thing like his own. There was no sounds from the street that was supposed to be outside his window, no cars, no kids, no chirping birds in the tree, just a faint hum and the steady beep of a machine that sounded miles away. Soon, the darkness was nothing but a mottled grey, diluted by a white light above him.
Was this death?
Finally, Leo blinked his blue eyes open and squinted into the unfamiliar scene. The world around him was suddenly the opposite of his bedroom; so very white, sterile in more ways than one. “What...” he whispered, finding his throat dry and his voice hoarse. It was different from a typical morning, nothing like needing a drink before getting up for school. This was parched, dehydrated but still somehow alive. He smacked his lips together, tried to swallow, but instantly regretted it when the scratch turned into a sting.
There was still a fog in his mind as he attempted to sit up, a lethargy that translated to his muscles—fingertip to toe as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. The room around him began to sway and there was a ringing in his ears that said even a little bit of activity was a big mistake. For some reason, however, Leo couldn't figure out why. He didn't know where he was, or how he'd gotten there, or why it was suddenly such a struggle to move. Sitting there, Leo dropped his head into his hands and took a few deep breaths as the spins began to ebb off.
“Oh, you're awake,” came a pleasant voice from the other side of the room, much too chipper. “There's always a few slow ones.”
Blinking, Leo raised his eyebrows, his surprised expression lost in the thick strands of hair that fell across his forehead. “Slow ones for what?” he asked, eyes darting from the woman's neat, red hair, to the freckles across her nose, to her crisp uniform that matched the starkness of the room. “Where am I?”
The woman paused, possibly in the middle of checking his vitals, and met his eyes. “Under an excellent doctor's care,” she answered, and Leo frowned. That told him nothing, that did nothing, and yet…
Before Leo could snap at her and make another demand, a memory bubbled to the surface of his sluggish brain. There had been an accident, some incident with the pool, or the diving board, water mixed with blood. Leo looked down at his arm, expecting to see a cast, or a scar, some tangible evidence that he was at a hospital and that this wasn't some insane dream—but there was only a bracelet. Curiously, Leo lifted his arm and held his elbow, fingers shaking as he looked at the strange item around his wrist. “Where's my dad?” he asked, one of the monitors matching the increased beat of his heart.
The woman's smile was placating, just like the warmth of her hand on his shoulder as she tried to coax him back into bed. “The doctor will be with you soon. Would you like some water?”
“No!” Leo glared, wholly unsatisfied with her answer. He shook her hand off, the act alone causing another flare of dizziness, but Leo did his best to ignore the physical toll that moving was taking on him. In an another act of stupid defiance, he threw his blankets back and hauled his legs over the side of the bed. They felt heavy, unstable, but he ignored that too and made an attempt to shove past the woman and make a break for the door on the other side of the room.
The thud that his body made against the shiny floor spoke to the acoustics of the room—they were very good—but not good enough to cover the disappointed sigh from the redhead. “Your muscles are weak, you haven't used them in a while,” she explained, and made a gracious attempt to pick him up from the floor.
“Where are my parents?” Leo asked again, rejecting her hand and explanations for a second time. He pushed himself up onto his hands, cheeks red and skin clammy as he slowly got his legs back underneath him. Everything still felt weak, but Leo kept his eyes on the door, breathing heavy and look of determination settling into his sharp features as he limped toward freedom.
For whatever reason, the woman didn't seem very concerned. “Everything will be explained,” she promised with another smile after falling into step beside him. It was too easy for her, something that Leo resented all the more as he continued to shuffle his feet. “Now, back to bed for you, and I'll get you that water right away.”
It was humiliating—a woman who was smaller than him by copious pounds and inches had practically carried him back to bed. Leo didn't have the energy to seethe, but his fingers were tight around the water glass in his hands, both clasping, still uncoordinated. His eyes stayed on the door, waiting for it to open and praying to see a familiar face.
Whatever this place was, Leo already wanted to leave.
Sierra Morgenstern : Room 9
Sierra's eyes fluttered opened for the first time in months. The piercing pain the light inflicted upon her eyes was accompanied by an equally hard headache that made the blonde feel like her skull was being ripped open. Sierra tried to sit up but she felt like her entire body was being weighted down; her arms and legs felt like lead.
"Ugh..." the young girl groaned. Despite the pain her eyes flickered open again. She looked around her room and was shocked to see that she was no longer in the hospital room she had grown accustomed to before she had slipped into her coma. Panic gripped her as she said, "Where ... where am I?"
"Don't worry, dear," said a soothing, calm voice from the left side of Sierra's bed. She whipped her head to face the owner of the voice, and there sat a woman who looked like she could be Sierra's older sister. She wore sterile white clothes and had Sierra's blonde hair and blue eyes. However, this woman had a much fuller figure: she had a curvaceous body where Sierra was thin and doll-like.
"Where am I?" Sierra repeated.
The woman handed Sierra a glass of water from the tray on her nightstand. "You're in a new hospital that specialises in treating those with your ... condition. The head doctor will see us shortly."
"Condition? You mean you know what's wrong with me? Who are you? What is this place?"
"My name is Edith," said the woman, "and I'm afraid we don't know what exactly is wrong with you."
☾Wren Gavell ↔ Room 2☽No one knows what it's like to wear a mask
That you are trapped inside.
The first thing he became aware of was darkness and an urge to drift back off into nothingness. Then sound slowly filtered through, a slow beeping that was growing faster as he slowly surface into consciousness. One thought was at the forefront of his sluggish mind: where was he? Then, as the sound grew louder, a smell accompanied it. Sharp, almost metallic. Sensation came next, bringing with it a coldness and pain that made him want to flee back into the dark where he felt nothing. But alas, fate is a cruel thing as his coveted darkness began to lighten and he was dragged into the waking world.
His lashes fluttered, creeping open a bit. When his eyes were exposed to the light, it was so harsh after so long in the dark that it physically hurt to look. He flinched slightly and squeezed his eyes shut, desperately reaching for his fleeing darkness. He wanted to go back. It didn't hurt there. It was quiet, warm. And he didn't have to be himself.
"Careful. Your eyes are not yet adjusted. You need to slowly open them so they can adjust little by little."
Whose...Whose voice was that? He flinched again at the loudness of it after so long without hearing. But he didn't open his eyes. The voice came back, this time quieter, coaxing him. Realizing that the voice was not going to leave him alone, Wren slowly cracked his eyes open, hissing as the bright hurt came back. He fought against the urge to close them and ever so slowly lifted his eyelids. The world looked like a bright blob at first but it gradually shifted until he could recognize vague shapes.
At first, he questioned if there was something wrong with his eyes but one of the shapes moved and picked another object up from somewhere next to him he couldn't see. Something cold and hard slid onto his face and the world came into full focus. He tried to reach a hand up to his face but only managed to raise his arm up a few inches before the limb began to shake and fell limp. As his mind became sharper, questions started flooding in. Where was he? This wasn't his room or the hospital room he had been assigned after he had fallen ill. Where were his parents? They had been the last thing he had seen before falling asleep. Were they in the hall talking to the doctor? Why did he feel so awful? Was it a side-effect of being ill?
A cleared throat drew him from his inner musing and he turned his head as much as he could, which wasn't much, and saw a man standing there. He was tall, at least as far as Wren could tell from his prone position and was sporting the reddest hair Wren had ever seen. Sparkling green eyes sat over a spattering of freckles across the mans cheeks. He had an athletic build and looked like he could toss Wren like a football.
Wren's brows furrowed lightly, a slight frown adorning his otherwise expressionless face. [BCOLOR=#808080]"Who are you?"[/BCOLOR] The raspy quality of his voice startled him as well as the ache that accompanied it. He tried clearing his throat and very quickly regretted the idea as the ache bloomed into a pain that felt like he had tried to gargle nails. The red-headed man gave him a small smile-what was he smiling about?- and picked something up off the table. He pressed a button on a remote next to Wren's bed and the bed slowly rose into an incline. The man then brought what he was holding-a small glass that was filled halfway with water with a bright green straw resting inside-to Wren's mouth and pressed the straw to the boy's lips.
Wren struggled to bring his hands up-he was not going to be cared for like a toddler-but once again his body didn't seem to want to work with him and a fierce ache settled over him, feeling like his very bones were hurting. After a few moments of struggle, Wren sighed and accepted help from the man. He closed his lips around the straw and began taking small sips of water-who knows how long he had been out for, didn't want to overload his system at once-as he resisted the urge to gulp down the cool, refreshing liquid. He eventually finished the glass and licked his lips, feeling how dry they were.
His thirst now quenched, Wren was able to repeat his question with a little bit more success though his voice still sounded too weak for his liking. The red-headed man gave another grin and settled into a chair next to the bed. "My name is Cedric." The man had no sooner finished his answer before Wren was firing off more questions. [BCOLOR=#808080]"Where am I? Why am I here?"[/BCOLOR] Cedric settled down comfortably in his chair, crossing his right leg over his left. "The doctor will be along shortly to explain everything." Wren was wholly unsatisfied with that answer and struggled to bring himself into a upright position. If this man wasn't going to answer his question straight-forwardly then he was going to go find someone that could. After some straining Wren finally managed to push himself upright though the shaking of his arms foretold he would not be able to keep the position up for long.
Cedric's eyes widened at Wren's movement and he wasted no time in leaping up from his chair and trying to gently guild Wren back into a laying position. Upon feeling Cedric's hand upon him, Wren's eyes grew wide and he promptly slapped the mans hands away, a loud [BCOLOR=#808080]"Take your hands off of me!"[/BCOLOR] following. Cedric raised his hand into the air and took a stepp back. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Wren gave a soft snort as his arms gave out and he was forced back against the pillows. Well, so much for his grand escape plan. With his useless body, he wasn't going anywhere, any time soon.
Nikolai Luzchezke-Room 1
Nikolai woke with a start from his slumber with a loud groan, he brought his chest up and threw his arms forward before rubbing his eyes. His hair was falling around his head and he brushed it back as his eyes opened. The first thing he noticed was the overwhelming whiteness of the room. The disorientation was soon overcome by fear of the unknown element, his location.
"What the hell..." Nikolai mumbled as he shook off the grogginess, "Where am I?"
He looked around and saw a man in an orderly white uniform, he looked over at Nikolai and put a hand on his shoulder. The man was tall, and thin, this man easily could've easily been a twig. His hands were long, not unlike a spiders legs. The man had short cropped hair and greenish eyes, a narrow jaw as well. Resting on his face were a pair of wire framed corrective lenses.
"Go easy," The man said, "You're perfectly fine. You're just waking up from some light anesthetic, take it slow. My name is Conroy. You're in this facility because of the sickness you went through. But with some excellent work by Dr. Williams you all are gonna be okay."
Nikolai looked at the man with a look of both curiosity and skepticism. There was no reason for Nikolai to be in a different hospital, and this certainly wasnt St. Peters. The man in front of him seemed calm, Conroy sat in a chair and picked up some kind of small tablet from a lab table. Nikolai looked on the table and saw a glass of water, he was parched. Nikolai would've reached for it but couldnt manage that distance from where he was. He raised his arm and pointed at it, there was a bracelet on his wrist. Nikolai tried to bring his hand to his mouth but it flopped across his chest.
"Oh that is... very weird..." Nikolai said before looking at the guy, "Water man, c'mon."
"Yeah, the body's gotta get back to working order. It's been roughly 6 months since you were moved here so naturally..."
"6 months?!" Nikolai said forcing his body to work, he pushed himself into a seated position and worked past his grogginess, "How the hell are you gonna tell me my dad managed to pay for 6 months in whatever fancy place this is?"
Conroy stood and urged Nikolai to lay back, "Easy kid dont push yourself."
Nikolai shrugged off the guys help and threw his legs over the side of the bed, he pushed himself off the bed. When his feet his the cold ground he then felt the magnitude of his fatigue. His knees gave out as Conroy reached him to make sure he didnt fall. Nikolai felt a rumbling in his stomach and then in his throat. Conroy recognized the noise and helped Nikolai to the bathroom. Nikolai grabbed the sides of the toilet and retched into the bowl.
"Jesus..." Nikolai said as he exhaled.
Conroy pulled out his little pad and began typing something. Nikolai was annoyed and threw up again. The sensation of standing ruined any chance he had at looking tough. He forced himself away from the toilet bowl and flushed it. He stood on shaky legs as Conroy helped him to wash his hands. Nikolai looked in the mirror and saw that he looked better than he'd expected after 6 months of nothing. He almost appeared to have lost some weight. Nikolai reached in the sink and cupped some water, he splashed it on his face and then ran his wet hands through his mohawk. It hadnt grown much but without product it looked silly. Nikolai looked at Corey through the mirror.
"When can I get out of here?"
Nikolai put his hands on the side of the sink, he felt exhausted but he was eager to leave. His dad was in the back of his mind, he was more concerned with the lack of protection he had. He didnt have his own clothes. His knife was probably in a hospital lost and found. Conroy put his hand on Nikolai's shoulder and gave him a very light guiding pull.
"Dr.Williams will be here in a bit to talk to you, but before she gets here I recommend you get in bed. I cant have you injuring yourself, and Dr.Williams would rather you were in your bed for the ease of access."
Nikolai shrugged off the mans hand and forced his legs to work as he walked to the bed, he used the door way to steady himself before stumbling and bumping into the bed. He grumbled and turned around before plopping down on it. He lifted his legs with some strain and layed them on the bed on top of the sheets. He put a hand to his face and massaged his temples. He decided it wouldnt serve purpose to try and fight this guy to get out, he was too tired. This Dr.Williams had better be along soon enough, Nikolai was getting restless.
Lilith Reid (Room 4)
"Wake up.. You have to wake up.."
That voice..It sounds really familiar...She might've heard it somewhere recently...
Why does her body feels like it was run over by a truck anyway? Not that she's complaining. Pain has always been her companion as far as she could remember. Speaking of remembering, her head hurts and her eyes are still closed..Maybe she should wake up..
"Wake up, Lil.."
That voice again..Ah! She recognizes the voice at last. It belongs to Scarlet..
"Scarlet! What is happening?" she asked her with slight curiosity tainting her voice.
"I'm not sure so you need to wake up. Call it instinct but let's argue later. For now, wake up!" Scarlet told her in an authoritative voice that somehow jolted her awake.
Her eyes were blind for a moment before it adjusted to show her a well-lit white room that looked a lot hospital rooms (based from the TV show she saw Mrs. Norris was watching) except this room has more computer like facilities and it is fully furnished if you look past the weird machines. She looked around some more, exploring the massive room barefooted. Her eyes caught something on the white marble table near her bed, a piece of paper she didn't notice earlier. Seeing she can't go out with an electronic lock barring her way and she can't see anything beyond the mirror walls near the door, she walked to the table and picked up the note. It contains a very short message written in a neat and slender handwriting.
It said, "Dr. Williams will visit you shortly. Kindly wait with patience."
"Dr. Williams? I don't know her..." she muttered as she obediently sat on her bed, waiting for the mysterious doctor. Living in the orphanage, she learned to obey if she doesn't want to get hurt. She sighed as she tested each limb and muscle, feeling like they haven't been used for a very long time. She tried to remember how she came to this place but her mind drew blank and it gave her headaches. She couldn't decide whether she is happy or not.
"Maybe both?" Scarlet quipped in her head.
"I guess..." Lilith shrugged tiredly. She wondered if the place is owned by the family who are supposed to adopt her and the doctor will be the one to check on her. Other families are like that if the gossip from Edith, one of the rebel kids in the orphanage, say is true. They want to check the kids health and all those stuff. The idea seemed to make sense to her so she didn't think anymore of it.
Her peace of mind was shattered by Scarlet when she asked about another thing she failed to notice. She was wearing a bracelet.
"What do you think that is? It looks from the future." Scarlet teased her. She studied it closely and saw it has her name on it and some kind of soft beeping coming from it. "It does but I don't think I should do anything with it. It might be some fancy souvenir or a present from my new family?" Lilith said, getting more tired by the minute.
"Don't let your guard down, Lil. We don't know for sure if you're really in your adoptive family's house. I just hope we're not in a newly renovated orphanage by that daughter.." the other persona commented, pissed off at the thought.
"We'll see, Scar..We'll see.." Lilith replied, trying to soothe her friend. She might do something stupid if she didn't calm her down immediately. She knew her soft voice worked when she felt Scarlet's tension fade away. Happy with the result, they fell into a companionable silence as they await their fate in this new and unknown place they woke up to.
Ansell E. Cordell - Room 7
Ever since that night in the ICU, Ansell had been vaguely aware of something going terribly wrong, but that's as far as his feelings went. Things never cleared up, got better, or made a lick of sense. He was lost, most likely in himself, sensations on the edge of his consciousness and voices nothing more than a whisper among the static of his jumbled thoughts. Ansell assumed this is what a coma felt like.
His mind made attempts to make sense of a world he couldn't see or hardly feel anymore, his dreams using what was left of his imagination. Most of the time, Ansell's dreams were awkward, and frankly uncomfortable. Several of his dreams were spent in a surreal bird cage, swaddled in blankets and hung upside down, weird spotlights with no source shining down on him.
His head burned, not from the lights that probably didn't exist. Ansell couldn't make sense of any of it. He wished he could, though.
In lieu of anything else, Ansell thought about his family, and tried to listen for them when they came around. When they showed, it was one of the numerous times Ansell hoped that it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him.
He yearned for them, body aching to feel their touch, head straining go pay attention to the outside world, inner one be damned. For all his exertion, he didn't notice them. Way back when, Ansell used to hear them every other day. Now, he heard nothing.
That hurt more than anything. He felt like crying, although that probably wouldn't work, considering he was comatose and having a good cry wouldn't help him. Regardless, he cried, or at least tried to. There was a ache somewhere in his chest, that oh so familiar burn in his head came back. Then light, agonizing and bright, pain spreading as fast as the light was growing.
The realization that he just opened his eyes took a moment to dawn on Ansell. His eyes burned, a wetness on his face that let him know he was crying, that he was still alive. He blinked, the crane of his neck stopped by the tension in his muscles, teary eyes darting around a room that looked nothing like the one he was admitted to. From the angle he was propped up at, Ansell saw a device on his wrist, some kind of medical bracelet. Bending his fingers to his palm to try and touch the bracelet, Ansell hissed at the immediate cramp in his arm.
Footsteps, slow and resounding in the room registered in his mind. Looking up from his odd bracelet, Ansell stared into the face of a copper haired woman, her face wrinkled in her age, the smile on her lips smoothening her skin.
"Please try to calm down," she began, slowly, yet a hint of nervousness was in her tone. "You'll be okay, and you'll be able to sign again once you start moving around." Had she been alerted to his condition? Who was she, and how did she know that? "My name is Dottie, the doctor will be here soon to explain everything to you." She laid a hand on his hand, her nimble fingers lying his flat on the bed.
"Try to relax, dear. You're in good hands."