02-09-2014, 03:59 AM
Awareness came slowly in short fragments that were filled with fleeting emotions and incongruent thought. Fear and anger, mist and blood. The void between sleep and waking, aware but unable to act was almost as unpleasant as the wounds that had flared in such pain.
There was a distinct shift, as if he were being pulled out of the ocean to breathe fresh air once again, and the world returned. The sound of monitors beeping in his ear was at first confusing, but it took surprisingly little time for his memory to return. He had never gone under before - the worst of his ailments were usually healed by Tony - and he had little inclination to do so again.
He did not open his eyes, breathing in the sterile air with satisfaction. The pain was dulled to a faint pinprick compared to the agony the power enhanced. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before dismissing the urge to seize the power once more. The unsettled wariness that stalked his waking hours was muted. For now, he was content to be alive.
He heard the someone entering the room - two people, by the sounds of the footsteps - but remained still, content to gather himself and think.
That thing had been after him. It had fled when Dr. Weston arrived. Why did it not simply kill her? Surely it could have, he was at full stretch just to keep it at bay with the power!
The thought led him to the one lead he knew of: the Atharim. Could they have sent it to hunt him? It seemed unlikely - they were supposed to kill monsters as well as murder him, and surely that was a monster. But...they also used people like Aria - although he did not think of her as a monster, they did - who knew what else they would leash? It was certainly the closest he had come to death since he had learned enough to defend himself.
The thought was cut short as the nurse - he assumed that's who it was - decided he was awake. Most likely they knew before he did, and it was sensible to check on a patient's health, but it irked him nonetheless. He just wanted to be left in peace a moment longer.
The storm would come soon enough.
"How do you feel?"
a gentle voice inquired as someone tinkered about with...some equipment. "Any nausea? Headaches? Pain?"
"I'm fine,"
Michael replied, cool and controlled once more as he opened his eyes to a young man checking a holo-screen filled with his vital signs and other information. He knew at least that much about hospitals, even though he had been forced into the trade of putting people in them. He had no desire to become a doctor, but the bitterness of being swept up by the AATC before he had a chance to decline was all the more apparent.
It was then that he noticed a third visitor. He even managed a fond smile -for him, anyway, he had no idea how it actually looked - from his awkward position. "Dr. Weston,"
he said in a lighter tone than usual. A winter breeze instead of a snowstorm. "Good to see you, although it seems you have suffered on my account."
He glanced at the two nurses and addressed the man who had spoken. "How long have I been out? I don't suppose I can leave yet? No matter. When you are finished, I need to speak to Dr. Weston in private. Tell no-one of my condition if they inquire, not yet, and if you need to check on me, knock."
He hid his grimace at the looks on their face's behind a steel gaze. He hated to appear ungrateful after all they had done, but there were much more pressing matters at hand. He would seek them both out later and thank them properly.
His irritation was wry when they both looked towards Dr. Weston for confirmation. She was the expert, after all.
Edited by Michael Vellas, Feb 9 2014, 04:01 AM.
There was a distinct shift, as if he were being pulled out of the ocean to breathe fresh air once again, and the world returned. The sound of monitors beeping in his ear was at first confusing, but it took surprisingly little time for his memory to return. He had never gone under before - the worst of his ailments were usually healed by Tony - and he had little inclination to do so again.
He did not open his eyes, breathing in the sterile air with satisfaction. The pain was dulled to a faint pinprick compared to the agony the power enhanced. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before dismissing the urge to seize the power once more. The unsettled wariness that stalked his waking hours was muted. For now, he was content to be alive.
He heard the someone entering the room - two people, by the sounds of the footsteps - but remained still, content to gather himself and think.
That thing had been after him. It had fled when Dr. Weston arrived. Why did it not simply kill her? Surely it could have, he was at full stretch just to keep it at bay with the power!
The thought led him to the one lead he knew of: the Atharim. Could they have sent it to hunt him? It seemed unlikely - they were supposed to kill monsters as well as murder him, and surely that was a monster. But...they also used people like Aria - although he did not think of her as a monster, they did - who knew what else they would leash? It was certainly the closest he had come to death since he had learned enough to defend himself.
The thought was cut short as the nurse - he assumed that's who it was - decided he was awake. Most likely they knew before he did, and it was sensible to check on a patient's health, but it irked him nonetheless. He just wanted to be left in peace a moment longer.
The storm would come soon enough.
"How do you feel?"
a gentle voice inquired as someone tinkered about with...some equipment. "Any nausea? Headaches? Pain?"
"I'm fine,"
Michael replied, cool and controlled once more as he opened his eyes to a young man checking a holo-screen filled with his vital signs and other information. He knew at least that much about hospitals, even though he had been forced into the trade of putting people in them. He had no desire to become a doctor, but the bitterness of being swept up by the AATC before he had a chance to decline was all the more apparent.
It was then that he noticed a third visitor. He even managed a fond smile -for him, anyway, he had no idea how it actually looked - from his awkward position. "Dr. Weston,"
he said in a lighter tone than usual. A winter breeze instead of a snowstorm. "Good to see you, although it seems you have suffered on my account."
He glanced at the two nurses and addressed the man who had spoken. "How long have I been out? I don't suppose I can leave yet? No matter. When you are finished, I need to speak to Dr. Weston in private. Tell no-one of my condition if they inquire, not yet, and if you need to check on me, knock."
He hid his grimace at the looks on their face's behind a steel gaze. He hated to appear ungrateful after all they had done, but there were much more pressing matters at hand. He would seek them both out later and thank them properly.
His irritation was wry when they both looked towards Dr. Weston for confirmation. She was the expert, after all.
Edited by Michael Vellas, Feb 9 2014, 04:01 AM.
"She saw a flaring halo around his head, radiant in gold and blue. It shouted of glory and power to come"
"No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."