Closed [The Infirmary] Dazed, Disoriented, But Not Dead (Gale)

[Wart]

Summer 30th 513AV

White light. A slimmer of blue. Darkness again.

White light. Some silver this time, for a little longer. No shapes, only blobs of color over the too bright light. All replaced with darkness.

White light, tan, that silver again. Noise, this time. Muffled speaking, shuffled steps. Nothing comprehensible before the darkness took its place.

There was no telling how long the darkness lasted, only that the light and the glimpses of color staid for too short a time. They were lengthening however, those little breaks from the nothingness.

It went on for days. The woman's eyes peaked open for longer and longer periods of time, blank and without comprehension, but they were opening. One day it was accompanied by a slight groan, another a small twitch of the hand. Finally, there came the day she uttered an actual word.

"Lewd..."

Light... Light is morning... Work... Gotta get t.. twork... Lewd'll.. he'll kill.. Her attempted movement was as shaky as her train of thought as she tried to get her arms out of the blanket and stretch. Everything took so much effort, everything felt so heavy. Petch.. m' hungover.. Finally she made the effort of opening her eyes. It was blinding at first, the bright white light. Everything was an out-of-focus blur of color and blobs. After a moment of struggling to see, things started to come into focus. A table, a cup, needles, a white curtain. Needles? Was she already at work? No, there were no curtains at the tattoo shop.

This... this isn't my bed

The fact took a moment to process, but once it did she was hit with a jolt of realization and panic. Sitting up too fast brought bright lights and stars to her eyes blinding her already blurred vision and making the rising sense of panic even worse.

"No- PETCH!!" In a clouded struggle to move the woman fell from the bed onto the cold hard floor, taking the blankets with her. On hands and knees she attempted to crawl away in hysterical desperation but nothing would cooperate. Her legs moved like a puppet on loose string and her hands refused to properly grip the floor or the blanket she was becoming more tangled in. WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO ME?! Suddenly there was yelling around her as someone gripped her arms.

"Gods NO NO LEAVE ME ALONE!" Her voice, usually firm and angry, was nothing but a hoarse shriek. As more hands came to pull her from the floor, voices rose trying to calm her, but she was too far upset to understand that these people could be helping her. Her struggles to hit at the faces and arms around her were weak, each landing with little more than a pat.

As hard as she tried to be angry and frightening, her usual reaction to unwanted situations, she remained the vulnerable, disoriented, and scared figure that was being lifted back into her bed. Her eyes, usually red with rage, were an uncharacteristic pale yellow and welled up with tears. Her hair was messy and dark, devoid of it's old, long faded rainbow dye. Everything about her looked like someone who had been devoid of physical activity, nutrition, and sun.

Eyes wide she desperately looked around for something, anything even remotely familiar in the strange place. She remembered nothing, nothing about coming here, being here. Then suddenly, from just a glance, a face came into focus that stood out from the pool of strangers handling her. She barely knew it, only from a quick chance meeting, if you could even call it that. But at this point, any kind of recognition was better than what she was going off of now and she clung to that tiny sliver of comfort with every bit of strength she had.

"You! The, the painting, those petching birds!" Without knowing what she hoped to accomplish with it she reached her arm out to grab his clothes, ultimately doing little more than brushing his leg as the man passed. Faint images surfaced in her mind as she tried so hard to break through her clouded thoughts: her practice sheets, the dark painting, the window. "The cafe..."

Her arm was restrained before she could make any further attempts. As she was placed back onto the bed, straps placed tightly on her wrists and ankles to keep from hurting herself, the strange people continued to try to comfort her and tell her what was going on. Still too emotionally chaotic to hear them, the woman laid back in her bed defeated and afraid, choking back sobs.

"Vagiks... I'll kill you... I'll kill you if you don't let me go..."

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Ah, the Infirmary. Who doesn't love the Infirmary? One of the few places where you can help those who are in need of it. One of the only places where you can remember when you were in need. The only place where moaning when you wake up is normal. The one and only place where you can sit back and watch others who are in utter agony, begging and holding onto their last strands of life. The only place where you are consistently reminded of the bitter end of your loved ones as you watch the light in their eyes fade to black. Gale hated the infirmary.

The only reason he was even here was to visit Ricky. The poor man was beaten harder than that pirate's eye when the blade of a dagger sliced through it. The pessimist couldn't bear the thought of not being there for his friend, especially after all he had done for him. As much as it pained him to come to the very spot where his beloved wife had died, it would hurt Richard more if he had to overcome his injuries alone. Gale sure wouldn't want to be alone. Especially if he looked...like that. It was a heart-jerker to even look at his friend in such a condition. Which was why he was in a hurry to leave this confounded place.

Walking briskly past the white curtains and the patients, a scream pierced his ears. With the curse ringing in his head, the man glanced to his right as a woman fell out of her bed with an awfully loud thud. With a grimace upon his face, he raised an eyebrow. What was wrong with her? A bad dream? Hallucinations? Must be some hallucinations to scare a grown woman like that. She looks awfully horrified. And somewhat familiar. The murderer's view was obscured as workers took her in attempts to pick her up.

Gale rolled his shoulder in a quick circle and looked away. There was no time to be stopping by every patient. He was much too busy for that. Drawing took a lot of time and effort so if he was planning on selling any paintings today he had better get to work. Time was precious to him and wasting any more of it here in this agonizing place would be a shame. The woman called out to the blonde in an attempt to grab his attention.

Birds? The pessimist had a interesting encounter with birds one time. Not literal birds but there was the one time when he was drawing at the Quill's Rest and this girl got mad at him for putting bi- "Augh!!" Startled by the brush on his leg, the Zeltivan yelped and whipped around.

He wasn't sure why, but he expected something other than the terrified woman trying to grab him. Something like someone's clothes rubbing up against him or...something. Not this desperate attempt to make him stay. Never has someone gone through so much effort to get him to do anything. Mainly because it never took too much to get him to do something... Anyways!

Shaking off the pathetic look of shock on his face, he watched silently as they strapped her down. For her own good, probably. But that seemed so harsh. Even with their assurances that everything was alright. People's word must mean nothing to someone who is hallucinating. For all Gale knew, she could be envisioning them as monsters who are strapping her to a table to do experiment. Augh. That would be scarring. The poor lass. The man crossed his arms as he watched blankly from where he was. He didn't dare get closer for the commotion was more than likely traumatizing for her. But as much as he wished he could leave, his feet remained where they were.

Just watching. Patiently. Curiously.

[Wart]

As the strangers continued to blabber on, the woman closed her eyes and tried desperately to remember something, anything that would hint at what brought her here. Had seen been jumped? Taken? Captured? Any memories of being on a ship, a cart, any sort of transport?

The more she tried to think the more alarmed she became. Even the more distant memories from earlier in the summer had holes. Gaps that should have been simple information were missing, stuck behind a wall of fog. Desperately she went back to the very basic, unlocking small doors in attempt to get further. Warthenia... No, Wart. Name's Wart. Swarthy. The initiation, tattoo shop, 'm an artist, painter, work at... Gods what's it - Equinox! In in... Zeltiva. Coast. Ocean, ships, sailors. She had only been thinking for a short moment and the doctors had continued to try to explain her situation to her. Nothing they were saying was making sense, their technical terms, their big words, such a waste of breath in place of answers. Losing patience and the ability to concentrate Wart's eyes flew open and she shouted them down.

"Petching SHUT UP!! Gods, just tell me, where 'm I?! Is this still Zeltiva!?!"

"Yes, yes ma'm, now please we know you're afraid -"

"DAMN YOU I AM NOT AFRAID!" A lie, of course, anyone who knew vanthan eyes could see it in the sickly yellow there, not to mention the shaking in her breath. "Cut the shyke would you for a CHIME AND JUST ANSWER ME?!"

The nurse she yelled at stepped away from her, revealing a man standing just a short distance behind. The bird one, the man she'd tried to reach out to. She would never admit it but her heart skipped a beat at the momentary relief of seeing he'd stayed. No, she couldn't trust him, she couldn't trust anyone here, but he was her one reference point. A glimpse of sanity in an ocean of disorientation. And if she remembered correctly, he was an artist as well. Maybe, maybe that would mean something, maybe he would remember her, maybe he would offer her some glimmer of truth in this chaos.

It was a long shot of desperation but it was all she had.

"You. You o'er there, Gods, please, where 'm I? Is this Zeltiva?" She brought her voice down, trying hard to keep her tone calm.

"Ma'am listen to me you are in Zeltiva you just - "

"NO! I am talking to HIM!" The nurse had stepped forward again, and despite Wart's efforts to break from her restrains and lash out, the woman stayed, eyes not so much afraid but full of a sort of sad understanding.

"You just woke up! Please miss it's hard but you have to understand --"

"I KNOW I JUST WOKE UP WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR THIS-"

"YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND IT HAS BEEN A YEAR!" The small woman finally managed to shout over the artist. Wart paused for a moment, taken by surprised by the matching volume, but also by the words. It only took a second though before a smile spread across her face and she shook her head with an disbelieving scoff.

"I ain't no idiot, woman. I ain't a CHILD 'bout to be lied to!!" Her smile grew as she realized that she was now a step above the deception of these people. This was it, she was sure of it. Finally she found the hole in the plans of whoever was behind this, and it would be so simple to break through the rest of it and get the truth. With a nod she gestured towards the man behind the people at her bed. "Ask 'im. 'Ey, we met few weeks ago, yeah? Tell em, y'had that drawing, the window, them birds, r'member?"

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Common Vani Nari

Holy. Petch. This seemed quite the situation. Before the nurses were even able to say anything the woman was down their throats about it. Wonder how many people they have to deal with that are like this. Completely defiant, uncooperative, snobby, moody, and scared. Gale, standing their, almost looked just like her, except he wasn't flailing, cursing, and didn't have yellow eyes. He was almost frozen where he was with eyes like cup saucers.

But despite disbelief in how they could possibly get any bigger, they did, when Wart confronted him directly. Y-yes? The words never made it past his lips, but, what reasoning did she have to think it wasn't Zeltiva? What happened to even have being in a different place a possibility? Must have been a horrid scenario. Terribly scenarios bring out the worst outcomes. And this surely must be terrifying for her. Especially her. She didn't even know where she was. Poor lass.

The nurses continued to try and control the situation, answering her questions, only to be rejected. More like tossed out the window in a ball of fire into a flaming pit. And then that flaming ball was thrown to him. Again, she wanted to talk to him. What was he, some sort of resource? He knew just as much about the situation as she did, perhaps even less that she. Why was she asking him all these questions. The pressure of having to answer the desperate woman, and watching as well as being yelled at started to make Gale sweat. His hands were clammy with anticipation. He wanted to leave the situation entirely, but the curiosity to hear the end of the so called story, made him stay. That, and he couldn't manage to move his feet anyway.

The story quickly unfolded, and revealed the 'climax'. Perhaps a bit too fast. But damn. A whole year? She has been out for an entire year. That must be devastating. Falling asleep then waking up to realize an entire year of your life was gone. Four whole seasons you'll never get back. If Gale were in her shoes, he would more than likely have just fell silent. But this woman was definitely nothing like him. She refused to take silence, and even refused the explanation all together. It would be hard to understand that you were asleep for an entire year, but refusing to believe it all together seemed counter productive. But to each his own, he supposed.

Then here comes the fireball again. Right on top of his lap. As if the Zeltivan was juggling a hot potato, he stuttered with his words,"Um- er- Well, um-, " Gale filed through his memory back to that day with the birds and the tattoo practice. It had been a decent amount of time, but he couldn't depict an exact date. Though, he was sure it was a couple of season ago."Well- uh- it has been a while, ma'am." The artist twirled his fingers around each other,"If I had to put a date to it, I would say about four seasons ago..."

Please don't be mad, please don't be mad. Or better yet, please don't freak out, please don't freak out.