10 - [Written//Open Infirmary Spam, post is kind of graphic]

[sonotahunter]

Everything hurts. That's the first thing that registers. And then comes the split-screen disorientation, the memories of the Barge--of herself--rallying against the knowledge of that other life-world-person. There's one horrible, teetering moment when she's not sure which one she is. A surge of nausea almost makes her vomit.

Comments

[the_ironman]

[Tony was waiting for his inmate to open her eyes, standing next to her bed, staring down at her, brow furrowed. It was still so bizarre to see her alive after what had happened at the speakeasy. She was breathing, and there wasn't a mark on her.

The Barge's little miracles, he guessed.

Holding a fresh copy of her file, he took a seat next to her bed and began to flip through it. Jarvis had already backed it up and read it aloud while Tony worked on recalibrating his suit, but he wanted to give it another once-over.]

[sonotahunter]

[Reality filters in again at the end of a dream rife with fire and goons becoming hellhounds and the speakeasy somehow twisting into a portal into hell.

She shudders, opens her eyes--and then closes them again when she sees who's next to her bed. A half-dozen sharp greetings spring to mind, most of them sneering accusations that he's there to gloat about being right.

Instead she just turns her face toward the pillow.]

[the_ironman]

[Catching her eyes flitting open in his peripheral vision, he looks up at her without moving, still holding her file stonily in his hands. It wasn't an easy read, and it felt so heavy to hold with each sentence.

Realizing that this may not be the time, that Bela Talbot may be resigned to her bed, he stood, snapping the file shut.]

I'm only a post away if you need anything. Your item's on the table for communication's sake.

[sonotahunter]

[Bela looks up at him, startled.] ...That's it?

[She sounds small. She looks it, too--like a post-college kid who's had the crap kicked out of her and not much more. She clears her throat and ends up coughing instead, trying for something like normalcy.] I'm surprised at you, Tony. I would have thought you'd at least throw in a parting barb.

[always_thewoman]

I did.

I really wish you hadn't done that... although I understand the impulse.

[Voice]

[sonotahunter]

[The sight of her own handwriting looking like her not!self's and the effort required to get the simplest of messages out weren't worth not letting people hear that she sounds like she's been gargling corrosive acid.

Besides, this is Irene.]

It was hardly my own impulse.

[Voice]

[always_thewoman]

[Irene softens somewhat]

Yes, well.

Thanks, I believe, are in order. I shudder to think what would've happened had they come after us.

[Voice]

[sonotahunter]

Blind heroics on the part of our... guests, I would imagine. At least enough distraction for you to get away.

[spam]

[gammapulsed]

[Bruce isn't sure who's to thank for bringing him back to the Barge - he certainly didn't put himself into the infirmary. For a long moment, there's only confusion at the soft bed beneath him instead of hard, uneven ground. But then it all comes rushing back.

The speakeasy. The explosion. The prison. The arena. The fact that he changed. Again.

He swallows, trying to get past the lump in his throat. He thought he was done, that he was cured. After the business with Max, after going over 200 on a pulse rate without... Okay, ow. He had almost forgotten how much he ached afterward

[spam]

[sonotahunter]

[She doesn't know he's there until he's laying on the bed, and the sudden closeness makes her jump--which of course results in it own fresh twist of pain.

And then comes the apology, and she knows exactly who's there.]

...Really, Bruce-- [She has to stop and clear her throat.] One would think you suggested glorified suicide as some kind of pastime, with that attitude.

[Bela shifts enough to get a better look at him, and stays curled there silently a moment.] What happened? Irene said she made it back. What of you?

[spam]

[gammapulsed]

[Bruce doesn't want to move. He'll continue talking through the mattress, thank you. ...Even though just breathing is enough to make him hurt all over. But he lets his head roll to the side so he's at least facing Bela. No excuse for rudeness, after all.]

Still. Should've gotten y'out. [He grimaces, hearing himself slur his words, but he can't help it.] Didn't have t'happen.

[He winces at the question, then winces again because the first wince set off another set of pangs. But he doesn't want to answer... For all he knows, Bela doesn't know about his problem-that-he-thought-wasn't-a-problem-anymore-but-actually-still-is. So he'll just omit certain details.] Got arrested after. Prison.

[spam]

[sonotahunter]

I w-- She wouldn't have gone. She wasn't the type to allow herself to be saved. [For that matter, neither is Bela herself. She shivers, trying not to dwell on the memory of the fire again. It's hard, with the phantom pains drifting through her body.

Bela forces a crooked smile.] And at least-- [Not her. It wasn't her.] She died a free woman.

[But she still died. No second chances. No being brought back. She--not Bela, but that woman, that other woman--walked into suicide knowing that the end was the end.

She's stronger than Bela in so many ways, and that makes Bela feel even worse on top of it all.]

[SPAM]

[youcandielater]

Misato was in the next bed over, sitting up with her arms crossed over her chest and glowering at every doctor that walked by as if she was holding them personally responsible for her current condition. She was sore, but so what? Pop some painkillers and she'd be fine.

She couldn't help but notice Tony visiting Bela and as soon as he was gone (and she'd stuck her tongue out at the back of his head), she turned to the woman.

"Not the best of circumstances to meet in person, huh?" She said.

[SPAM]

[sonotahunter]

"In--" Bela looked momentarily confused, still adrift, though that lasts only the breath it takes to recognize Misato's voice. "Miss... Katsuragi, wasn't it?"

She resettles herself, beginning to feel the edge of restlessness despite the pain. "I would say not. What landed you in this particular position, if I might ask?"

[SPAM]

[youcandielater]

"Yep!" Misato would have chirped if her mood was conductive to being chirpy, as such it just sounded mildly dry.

"Stabbed in the Barge attack," she rolled her eyes. "I'll live, but try telling any of these clowns that." She eyed another doctor as if glaring at them would solve all of the world's known problems or, at least, eliminate her own restlessness.

[SPAM]

[sonotahunter]

"These clowns, as you put it, seem invested in keeping us here if for no other reason than it gives them something to do. Nothing like a crisis to make certain parties feel invaluable." She shivers. "I would as soon suffer elsewhere."

[onlyhalfserious]

Sark found the entire concept of what had just happened unbearable in so many ways. It wasn't the death that bothered him- although that was certainly an experience that he didn't want to forget. It was the forgetting, the becoming a different person. The fact that this Boat... This bloody boat could claim to be for his betterment and then allow something like that to happen to him.

He cringed, sore all over, and resisted the urge to walk himself right out to continue his recovery in the solace of his own room where no one could see him gritting his teeth against memories that weren't his.

After a moment, he addressed Bela, even though his back was to her, "Well. I suppose we have to give them credit. They certainly knew how to make an exit."

Sark... Is also going to be abusing pronouns.

[sonotahunter]

When he speaks, Bela tenses. Until he gets to the them, they--the fact that she won't have to deal with him talking about the 'lives' they had as though they belonged to Bela and Sark themselves--well, she should have expected it, really. It's Sark.

No, not that one. She holds back a groan and manages dignity. "I could have done without the fanfare, myself. One does have to wonder how they managed to hoard so much explosive material despite the government's attentions."

She shifts, hissing in pain as she sits up a bit to look at him. "I would say you look dreadful, but I suppose I share that particular quality at the moment."

[onlyhalfserious]

"Elaborate fantasy worlds need not bend to reality," he muttered, finally deciding to roll over and face her. He holds back his pain with dignity and reaches up to run a hand through his hair to make it less flat. God forbid, apparently, that he have to lie in an infirmary bed with flat hair.

"I'd say it's unreasonable that we should suffer for their mistakes, but this boat has hardly been reasonable at any point." He turned up his nose and half buried himself under the blankets.

[sonotahunter]

"Elaborate fantasy worlds, from what I hear, do as they will without regard for the feelings of those involved. And now I suppose I have evidence to attest to that fact."

She scoots just enough to sit up with her pillows at her back, the brief tension on her face the only sign of her own discomfort. "Their only mistake, I think, was in deciding to go with their establishment. Live to fight another day, et cetera."