Desmond Miles ❖ 15
Who: failssassin and somarium
Where: Somni main Hospital
Style: Starts in third, but I'll follow anyone's choice
Status: OPEN!
Just like it had been for the past weeks or so, the sterile room where Desmond laid was silent, except for the few beeps of his IV drop, his heart monitor and the ventilation sound of the artificial respirator he was plugged to. Eyes sunken and hirsute stubble were the only things that had changed ever since he had been admitted to the hospital. No signs of improvement, nor did his condition worsened once the Somni doctors had figured out that this was no normal sleep coma and that the young would need help with dehydration and breathing. For some, it may be a sad sight: the young man had been so full of life days before he collapsed, while for others it was something incomprehensible and some of the doctors had followed his coma closely, trying to understand how it had differ from a sleep coma one.
The day following Elena, Altaïr and Isabelle dropping Desmond at the hospital, his Dreamberry had appeared by his bedside, where it was resting still. But the black screen glitched a few times, before white noise could be quietly heard from the device. Voices too, after a moment, though the communication cut from time to time, making it impossible to understand what's being said. If anyone reached for the device, they would see the image of a seemingly futuristic island, with large rock pillars, animated in between by what looked like code falling down. The image glitched again, and this time, it clear showed the face of a man that frowned lightly before whispering what sounded like 'Wake up, Desmond' despite the distortion.
As if on cue, the novice eyes flew open, his heart rate raising as the beeping of the machine screeched into the room. Now able to breathe on his own, he choked on the tubing in his throat and panicked, hands quickly reaching to pull the tubing out. Pain shot through his head and throat as he did so, but he managed to take out the obstruction on his mouth despite the gag reflex. Desmond looked around without really seeing anything, only noting the machines and the white, sterile walls, making him panicking even more. He couldn't be back at Abstergo, could he? Either way, he had to get out there, he had to go back to the Coliseum, he had to go and help Lucy and make sure she was all right, that she had survived, that Sixteen had lied to him. Pulling off his IV line, as well as the electrodes on his chest, he swung his legs to one side of the bed and quickly got up. But weeks of staying idle in a bed had weakened his legs and it was certainly too soon for him to stand up, resulting in him falling to the floor. He cursed but kept moving on towards the table at the foot of his bed, where he thought he had seen his Hidden Blade. The alarms from the machines that had kept him alive would certainly bring in doctors and security guards, but he couldn't stay there, he couldn't be caught again. He didn't want to turn into Sixteen, even though part of him felt like he already did. Pulling himself to lean his back against his bed, he tried to make sense of all the new images in his head and with trembling hands, he touched his temples, his teeth chattering already with the cold he was feeling on the floor. For a long moment his eyes fixed the floor as he tried to come up with a way to get out of his room without anyone noticing.
Where: Somni main Hospital
Style: Starts in third, but I'll follow anyone's choice
Status: OPEN!
Just like it had been for the past weeks or so, the sterile room where Desmond laid was silent, except for the few beeps of his IV drop, his heart monitor and the ventilation sound of the artificial respirator he was plugged to. Eyes sunken and hirsute stubble were the only things that had changed ever since he had been admitted to the hospital. No signs of improvement, nor did his condition worsened once the Somni doctors had figured out that this was no normal sleep coma and that the young would need help with dehydration and breathing. For some, it may be a sad sight: the young man had been so full of life days before he collapsed, while for others it was something incomprehensible and some of the doctors had followed his coma closely, trying to understand how it had differ from a sleep coma one.
The day following Elena, Altaïr and Isabelle dropping Desmond at the hospital, his Dreamberry had appeared by his bedside, where it was resting still. But the black screen glitched a few times, before white noise could be quietly heard from the device. Voices too, after a moment, though the communication cut from time to time, making it impossible to understand what's being said. If anyone reached for the device, they would see the image of a seemingly futuristic island, with large rock pillars, animated in between by what looked like code falling down. The image glitched again, and this time, it clear showed the face of a man that frowned lightly before whispering what sounded like 'Wake up, Desmond' despite the distortion.
As if on cue, the novice eyes flew open, his heart rate raising as the beeping of the machine screeched into the room. Now able to breathe on his own, he choked on the tubing in his throat and panicked, hands quickly reaching to pull the tubing out. Pain shot through his head and throat as he did so, but he managed to take out the obstruction on his mouth despite the gag reflex. Desmond looked around without really seeing anything, only noting the machines and the white, sterile walls, making him panicking even more. He couldn't be back at Abstergo, could he? Either way, he had to get out there, he had to go back to the Coliseum, he had to go and help Lucy and make sure she was all right, that she had survived, that Sixteen had lied to him. Pulling off his IV line, as well as the electrodes on his chest, he swung his legs to one side of the bed and quickly got up. But weeks of staying idle in a bed had weakened his legs and it was certainly too soon for him to stand up, resulting in him falling to the floor. He cursed but kept moving on towards the table at the foot of his bed, where he thought he had seen his Hidden Blade. The alarms from the machines that had kept him alive would certainly bring in doctors and security guards, but he couldn't stay there, he couldn't be caught again. He didn't want to turn into Sixteen, even though part of him felt like he already did. Pulling himself to lean his back against his bed, he tried to make sense of all the new images in his head and with trembling hands, he touched his temples, his teeth chattering already with the cold he was feeling on the floor. For a long moment his eyes fixed the floor as he tried to come up with a way to get out of his room without anyone noticing.