Gabriel remembers this bloke, from a couple of days prior while in the Nexus. Seems as if the man hasn't gotten a break yet. Or he has, which could explain why he's in here.
And why is Gabriel here? He's not sure. He was following a memory, so to speak, of this place. It had come from a twisted dream of blurred thoughts and tangled strings. It hadn't quite surprised him to recall the place, and to find the room he'd been in for what he remembered as somewhat of an eternity.
The same room this man is now in.
Is it fate? Gabriel doesn't believe in fate. Or does he? He's not sure anymore. He's not even sure if he likes raisins in his muffins, these days.
It seems like a good place to rest for a few moments, so he sits in the chair next to the bed and flips through a magazine, not interested enough to pay attention to it.
All he knows is, he and this man share something in common. They do not remember. And that is enough for him.
It's a quiet room. He lies still and silent, and the room is soundless save for the small beeping of monitors.
Maybe it's a sound outside that wakes him, or a particularly loud flip of a magazine page, but he stirs presently, with a soft "Mmmmhh..." sound. Forcing his eyes open, he takes in his surroundings--still in this hospital room--and eventually sees Gabriel.
"I've ... seen you before...." he says. It comes out a stringy mumble.
It's the 28th of April when Ivy comes to see if it's him. She brought a small pot of flowers anyways. No one told her the flowers are yellow and the irony would be lost on her due to the fact she just doesn't care.
This might be someone she cares about. "Hello?"
She hopes it isn't who she thinks it is. Her life will become more complicated if it is. Most of it is because she could never leave him alone. It would go against her nature to leave someone in a situation like this if she knows them.
A nurse looks up from tending the ever-relocated intravenous (now a central line, good lord) to see Ivy in the doorway. She quickly puts all the factors together. Civilian clothing + flowers = visitor. Oh, good.
"Hello, miss. I'm Sharon, the nurse on duty here. Do you want me to wake him up? I'm afraid he might not recognise you, though, but it might be worth a try."
"Okay," the nurse answers. It takes her a few moments to wake him, and she has to address him as 'sir,' because there's no name on record for him. Eventually he makes some sort of vague sound. "Sir," the nurse tells him quietly, "you have a visitor."
"Mmmh," is his wonderfully coherent reply. "Mmm? Hullo...."
Carter comes, eventually. After Dr. Cuddy's appearance in the Nexus reminded him of his responsibilities to the once-eldritch being. (He doesn't want to have to deal with this. He has far too much to cope with as it is, and far too many entanglements with these kinds of beings. But Hastur's fall was his doing. And he knows he's beholden to what human fragments still remain.)
He fills the doorway even in his most simple 'outing' garb, a plain white mask and simple tan robes.
It's been a while. Ivy's visit might have done him some good, but he's still in terrible shape, a central line snaking under the collar of his hospital clothing, a nasogastric tube leading into his nose. He's thin and paler than ever, eyes shadowed and hollow, and his hands and arms are bruised and reddened from IV sites.
Nevertheless, he's conscious, and his eyes (yellow irises) widen upon seeing Carter.
"You..." he stammers, his voice a stringy rasp. "Y-you where there... when I woke up.... You were there... weren't you?"
"Yes." A flat shadow of emotion in his voice, human contrition filtered through an insect's throat and mind. "I am -- Randolph Carter, of... Massachussets, and Yaddith." He approaches the hospital bed, black eyes glittering down at the Stranger.
"Randolph Carter..." he echoes, as though committing it to memory. Maybe he is.
"I'm ... not well, no. I'm sorry." He's not sure why he's apologising. Maybe because this man came all this way only to find him in this useless state.
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And why is Gabriel here? He's not sure. He was following a memory, so to speak, of this place. It had come from a twisted dream of blurred thoughts and tangled strings. It hadn't quite surprised him to recall the place, and to find the room he'd been in for what he remembered as somewhat of an eternity.
The same room this man is now in.
Is it fate? Gabriel doesn't believe in fate. Or does he? He's not sure anymore. He's not even sure if he likes raisins in his muffins, these days.
It seems like a good place to rest for a few moments, so he sits in the chair next to the bed and flips through a magazine, not interested enough to pay attention to it.
All he knows is, he and this man share something in common. They do not remember. And that is enough for him.
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Maybe it's a sound outside that wakes him, or a particularly loud flip of a magazine page, but he stirs presently, with a soft "Mmmmhh..." sound. Forcing his eyes open, he takes in his surroundings--still in this hospital room--and eventually sees Gabriel.
"I've ... seen you before...." he says. It comes out a stringy mumble.
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"The staff here is pleasant enough, but the food leaves something to be desired."
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"I suppose they are. I ... don't know about the food."
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This might be someone she cares about. "Hello?"
She hopes it isn't who she thinks it is. Her life will become more complicated if it is. Most of it is because she could never leave him alone. It would go against her nature to leave someone in a situation like this if she knows them.
Reply
"Hello, miss. I'm Sharon, the nurse on duty here. Do you want me to wake him up? I'm afraid he might not recognise you, though, but it might be worth a try."
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Part of her hopes it isn't. It would make things easier. But things never really go Ivy's way.
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"Mmmh," is his wonderfully coherent reply. "Mmm? Hullo...."
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He fills the doorway even in his most simple 'outing' garb, a plain white mask and simple tan robes.
"Lord."
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Nevertheless, he's conscious, and his eyes (yellow irises) widen upon seeing Carter.
"You..." he stammers, his voice a stringy rasp. "Y-you where there... when I woke up.... You were there... weren't you?"
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"How do you feel?"
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"I'm ... not well, no. I'm sorry." He's not sure why he's apologising. Maybe because this man came all this way only to find him in this useless state.
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