(no subject)
Characters: Stoneface (stonyfaced) and Reed (heretic_hamlet) and open to Paladin (mythgravenblade) and Krile (feathered_earth
Date/Time: December 16th/Morning
Location: Wellspring
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Summary: Stoneface and Reed are both recuperating in Wellspring. What better excuse for a chat?
The doctors at Wellspring had insisted that Stoneface stay within their care for at least a week. Stoneface had offered a cursory protest, but relented easily enough. It was only if he was kept in there for more than a week that he'd protest. Frankly, he could see the reasoning behind it. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. He had suffered wounds worse than those much younger than him, and every now and again, his body sent him painful reminders that he wasn't as young as he was.
Besides, if he wasn't at Wellspring, he'd only be sleeping at home. It wasn't as if he could walk properly enough to go on patrols, he couldn't use crutches because his hands were burned to high hells, and for gods' sake, he couldn't even hold a pen.
The sleep had done him good, he knew, but there was little that could heal gashes, burns and stitches but time. He sat up carefully, wincing as he did so, and clumsily attempted to check up on the journals by flipping the pages with his elbow. This proved to be a more difficult endeavor than he had initially thought, but he had to do something to occupy his mind with things other than horrible visions of zombies. Those would haunt him for some time, he thought, and would probably haunt Genius for even longer.
When a medic came in - presumably to do something like tsk over the state of the bandages he always managed to dislodge or put more of that stinging muck on his hands - he didn't raise his head.
"Good morning, Captain," came the cheery voice instead, "you've got a roommate now."
Date/Time: December 16th/Morning
Location: Wellspring
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Summary: Stoneface and Reed are both recuperating in Wellspring. What better excuse for a chat?
The doctors at Wellspring had insisted that Stoneface stay within their care for at least a week. Stoneface had offered a cursory protest, but relented easily enough. It was only if he was kept in there for more than a week that he'd protest. Frankly, he could see the reasoning behind it. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. He had suffered wounds worse than those much younger than him, and every now and again, his body sent him painful reminders that he wasn't as young as he was.
Besides, if he wasn't at Wellspring, he'd only be sleeping at home. It wasn't as if he could walk properly enough to go on patrols, he couldn't use crutches because his hands were burned to high hells, and for gods' sake, he couldn't even hold a pen.
The sleep had done him good, he knew, but there was little that could heal gashes, burns and stitches but time. He sat up carefully, wincing as he did so, and clumsily attempted to check up on the journals by flipping the pages with his elbow. This proved to be a more difficult endeavor than he had initially thought, but he had to do something to occupy his mind with things other than horrible visions of zombies. Those would haunt him for some time, he thought, and would probably haunt Genius for even longer.
When a medic came in - presumably to do something like tsk over the state of the bandages he always managed to dislodge or put more of that stinging muck on his hands - he didn't raise his head.
"Good morning, Captain," came the cheery voice instead, "you've got a roommate now."