♞ one.
[Guy stares up at the tiled ceiling of the clinic.]
Two thousand, two hundred and one. Two thousand, two hundred and two...
[He says, slurring his words as he counts the tiny tiles. Despite his rather severe injuries, he feels comfortable - or at least as comfortable as a man whose body is riddled with holes, incisions and stitches can feel. He is also quite aware that he's incredibly inebriated; however, he cannot remember how he got that way. Whatever the intoxicant is, it's quite possibly the most potent variety he's ever encountered - even more powerful than the cheap wine at the Trip Inn (only this stuff apparently doesn't make one go blind.)]
Two thousand, two hundred and three. Two thousand, two hundred and four. Two thousand, two hundred and five.
[Despite his foggy brain, he's figured out that he's in a castle, though he's fairly certain he isn't in Nottingham anymore. There are no rooms such as this one anywhere in Nottingham Castle, nor are there magical boxes with glowing symbols and lines moving across them that make loud noises when he rips the sticky round things off his chest. None of the physicians have mentioned his humors, or have tried to treat his wounds with leeches or blood-letting. It is all very strange to him, but with the powerful intoxicant dulling his mind, Guy really doesn't think much of it. He isn't going anywhere - his injuries keep all but his left arm immobilized - and as such, he accepts his new surroundings for what they are. For the moment.]
Two thousand, two hundred and six. Two thousand, two hundred and...um...what number was I on again? Oh, sod it...
[The only thing that is really bothering Guy at the moment is the lack of food. For days, he's been begging for a tasty meal (there have even been tears involved, but Guy is quick to blame it on the intoxicant, of course.) And for days, he's been receiving nothing more than a glass of milk that tastes like it has been mixed with metal. He hates it, and desperately wishes for some real food to fill his empty belly.
Just then, he notices a bowl on the cart sitting to the side of him that is filled with translucent blue cubes. He is curious, and reaches out with his free hand and slides the cart closer. The cubes are like nothing he's ever seen before, and he isn't sure what to make of them until he notices a spoon sticking out of the bowl. He assumes this means the weird blue stuff is edible, and although he desires food very badly, he is still hesitant to take a bite.
Wha...what is this stuff?
[ooc: Intro post! :) Also, Guy's a 12th century knight, so modern technology (and blue raspberry jello,) are kinda lost on him at the moment. :)]
Two thousand, two hundred and one. Two thousand, two hundred and two...
[He says, slurring his words as he counts the tiny tiles. Despite his rather severe injuries, he feels comfortable - or at least as comfortable as a man whose body is riddled with holes, incisions and stitches can feel. He is also quite aware that he's incredibly inebriated; however, he cannot remember how he got that way. Whatever the intoxicant is, it's quite possibly the most potent variety he's ever encountered - even more powerful than the cheap wine at the Trip Inn (only this stuff apparently doesn't make one go blind.)]
Two thousand, two hundred and three. Two thousand, two hundred and four. Two thousand, two hundred and five.
[Despite his foggy brain, he's figured out that he's in a castle, though he's fairly certain he isn't in Nottingham anymore. There are no rooms such as this one anywhere in Nottingham Castle, nor are there magical boxes with glowing symbols and lines moving across them that make loud noises when he rips the sticky round things off his chest. None of the physicians have mentioned his humors, or have tried to treat his wounds with leeches or blood-letting. It is all very strange to him, but with the powerful intoxicant dulling his mind, Guy really doesn't think much of it. He isn't going anywhere - his injuries keep all but his left arm immobilized - and as such, he accepts his new surroundings for what they are. For the moment.]
Two thousand, two hundred and six. Two thousand, two hundred and...um...what number was I on again? Oh, sod it...
[The only thing that is really bothering Guy at the moment is the lack of food. For days, he's been begging for a tasty meal (there have even been tears involved, but Guy is quick to blame it on the intoxicant, of course.) And for days, he's been receiving nothing more than a glass of milk that tastes like it has been mixed with metal. He hates it, and desperately wishes for some real food to fill his empty belly.
Just then, he notices a bowl on the cart sitting to the side of him that is filled with translucent blue cubes. He is curious, and reaches out with his free hand and slides the cart closer. The cubes are like nothing he's ever seen before, and he isn't sure what to make of them until he notices a spoon sticking out of the bowl. He assumes this means the weird blue stuff is edible, and although he desires food very badly, he is still hesitant to take a bite.
Wha...what is this stuff?
[ooc: Intro post! :) Also, Guy's a 12th century knight, so modern technology (and blue raspberry jello,) are kinda lost on him at the moment. :)]