Open Infirmary Spam - Death Tolling :c

[nuclear_ted]

[Post-flood, a day after this log. Ted's death-tolling it up at Infirmary. He'll have severe laryngitis the next couple of days. Right now he's all sorts of RAAAGE at what Sylar did, even more because he agreed to it. He needs someone to talk, peeps

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Spam-a-log

[nuclear_ted]

Ted was exhausted, emotionally drained. Through Bennet's help, he'd learned to channel his anger into an EMP, something that wouldn't hurt anyone. After waking up and remembering what he'd allowed Sylar to do, it was a natural thing to switch to an electrical wave. No matter how much he so desperately wanted to explode for real, burn a hole in the infirmary.

He had a headache, and his throat felt dry and scratchy. It was text he responded with to Claire, not audio. "Infirmary." Pause. "I was upset. Everything's fine."

No everything was not fine. Not a bit fine. But he didn't want her to worry.

Spam-a-log

[nuclear_ted]

Ted just looked back for several moments. Maybe she'd leave. He soon realized she wouldn't and that he'd have to say something.

"Yeah, he killed me." He finally said, his voice hardly above a whisper and very scratchy. He could barely talk, thanks to Sylar's method of slashing his throat. "Again. And I let-" He broke off with a cough and a cringe of pain. Christ that hurt like hell. Once the coughing subsided, Ted continued, "let him. It was dumb." An attempt at a smile. "Some flood."

After Claire left

[easy_aspie]

[Ned poked his head around the door. He looked around, scanning the few occupied beds until he spotted Ted. The man looked different, alive and not covered in his own blood.

With a little wave and a cramped smile, Ned made his way over to Ted's bedside. He placed a large glass carafe of tea - condensation beading slightly on its sides and with chunks of ice floating in it - on the nightstand.]

Hi, I'm - I'm Ned, we spoke over the journals. D'you mind if I... ?

[He motioned to the folding chair which had been left near Ted's bed]

[nuclear_ted]

[Another reason Ted hated hospitals: they were boring. Nothing to do but lie in bed until your illness passed. In Ted's case, that meant lots of time to ponder murder against the man who put him there.

So he was grateful for any company he could get to take his mind off the whole thing. Especially when those guests brought tea.

Ted nodded to Ned's question.] Sure go ahead. [His voice was still quiet and scratchy from the death toll. As Ned sat down, Ted poured himself a cup. He drank, and smiled as the refreshing beverage made its way down his throat.] Thanks for coming by. [So what do you say to the man who saw you dead and helped you? Ted wasn't sure.]

[easy_aspie]

[Ned took a seat, then folded his hands in his lap. His uncertainty matched Ted's, but he gave the man a shaky but genuine smile] No problem. I just figured, y'know, the infirmary can be pretty... pretty dull.

I, ah - how are you feeling? He worked you over pretty good. [Ned blinked then, thinking that it was, perhaps, impolite to mention one's murderer to his victim. Were there books on this sort of thing? On the etiquette of interacting with a man who'd just been killed? If so, Ned of all people should've been given a copy.] Sorry if that's. Um. Bothersome.

[nuclear_ted]

[Ted smiled a little and shook his head.] It's alright. It is, and he did, but I don't mind talking about it. [Another sip of tea.] Was my head, uh... [Ted moved a finger along his forehead.] ...gone?