Final Log; Open
Who: Rex, Open
Where: Infirmary OR Rex's room if anyone's stopping by post-infirmary
When: Today through the next few days, I suppose.
Warnings: DOUBTFUL
Consciousness came to Rex slowly, like he was just waking up from a heavy sleep, which, for all intents and purposes, was pretty much exactly what he was doing. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat and rolled onto his side, pulling up his sheets so that he could better burrow, and it was only after a few half-conscious minutes that he finally opened his eyes, at first unconcerned with-- or unaware of-- his current surroundings.
And then it hit him, the total wrongness of... everything around him. Not his room, not his-- where was he? He sat up in a panic and looked around, trying to gauge his own familiarity with the room. He'd seen it before-- where--
Ah. One of the infirmary's private rooms. He sat back, a feeling of calmness washing over him. Here he was, back on the Barge after yet another failure. How long it had been, he couldn't tell. His communicator would lend some hints, but he wasn't particularly interested in checking it. No doubt, people were still furious, and he had no interest in listening to any hysterical accusations.
To be honest, he didn't feel much of anything at all right now. No rage, no disappointment, just resignation. Like a lot of angry children, sometimes Rex just needed a nap to chill out and stop acting like a terror. Just don't put it to him in those words.
He rubbed his eyes and laid back down, curling onto his side and staring at the wall. He'd alert somebody to his consciousness... later.
Where: Infirmary OR Rex's room if anyone's stopping by post-infirmary
When: Today through the next few days, I suppose.
Warnings: DOUBTFUL
Consciousness came to Rex slowly, like he was just waking up from a heavy sleep, which, for all intents and purposes, was pretty much exactly what he was doing. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat and rolled onto his side, pulling up his sheets so that he could better burrow, and it was only after a few half-conscious minutes that he finally opened his eyes, at first unconcerned with-- or unaware of-- his current surroundings.
And then it hit him, the total wrongness of... everything around him. Not his room, not his-- where was he? He sat up in a panic and looked around, trying to gauge his own familiarity with the room. He'd seen it before-- where--
Ah. One of the infirmary's private rooms. He sat back, a feeling of calmness washing over him. Here he was, back on the Barge after yet another failure. How long it had been, he couldn't tell. His communicator would lend some hints, but he wasn't particularly interested in checking it. No doubt, people were still furious, and he had no interest in listening to any hysterical accusations.
To be honest, he didn't feel much of anything at all right now. No rage, no disappointment, just resignation. Like a lot of angry children, sometimes Rex just needed a nap to chill out and stop acting like a terror. Just don't put it to him in those words.
He rubbed his eyes and laid back down, curling onto his side and staring at the wall. He'd alert somebody to his consciousness... later.