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91
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi: S [Day 03 | 0145] By these wounds...
Last post by Eden -
Lt. JG Callax Valin | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @Krajin  @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]
“Oh my... Overindulgence with a substance as potent as Romulan ale? Gracious, I hope you learned your lesson, Mr. Valin... although, I would have loved to have been tapped into that rooms surveillance sensors to watch that scenario play out."

He would have shrugged if he could. Instead, the best he could offer was what he hoped appeared to be a sassy-ish shifting of his head. "I just wish they did not confiscate the ale. I was only halfway finished with that bottle..."

The conversation continued onto the topic of Andorians and androids.

“Although I’d relish the opportunity, I fear I’d wear the poor things out,” the android teased. “I have operated on several, does that count? Oh, they’re often quite regulars in here; especially Zark - have you met Zark? You’ll love her, everyone does,” Vi patted his bare chest with her free hand casually. “I’ll put in a word for you with her, don’t you worry.”

Now he did his best to feign insult, looking as prideful as one could look given present circumstances. "Who says I need the help?"

Cal was grateful he could not feel whatever it was the android was doing to repair his body. Without an anesthetic, he would undoubtedly be in excruciating pain.

“Almost done. A few more minutes, then a quick tickle test, and you’ll be on your way to the ward.”

"I normally insist on dinner first before any tickle tests," he mused, coughing slightly from hoarse throat. His earlier outburst was rewarded with a dry mouth. "Hey... How long do you think I will be out of it? I am itching to get back into the action."

...and to his fellow pilots. Wolves did not do well separated from their pack.
92
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epilogue: They That Shed Their Blood [Day 03 | 1800 ]
Last post by Krajin -
[ Lt. JG Dominic Winters | The Den | Deck 16 | U.S.S Theurgy Attn:  @Brutus  @Nolan  @ob2lander961  @chXinya @Dumedion  @Griff  @rae  @Stegro88  @Eirual @RyeTanker @tongieboi  @Pierce  @Tae  @Nesota Kynnovan  @Hans Applegate  @joshs1000  @P.C. Haring  @Krajin  @Eden  @TWilkins

After the speech had finished, Dom sat there and processed the whole speech from the President and her political diatribe. His ears flattened against his head and he threw the bottle of liquor at the wall with some serious force behind it. The glass shattered and spilled the rest of the contents onto said wall and down to the carpet. "Are you absolutely fucking kidding me?" Atlas snarled. Then the badge followed behind the bottle and smacked into the wall. "You pardon us on the Net, then out of a fit of sheer stupidity, you decide to announce to the entire Federation and beyond the infection status! You're a dumb, fucking moron!" He shouted at the broadcast.

He vented his frustration at the politician, and unfortunately, if anyone else was in the room they would see his fiery temper flare up. "Now, our enemies will see the Federation weak. The Infected have nothing to lose with their entire existence exposed. Holy shit, the entire Federation is now at risk from within and without. Did you suddenly forget how to think and breathe at the same time?"

He got up and stalked his way over to the shattered glass, grumbling all the way, and knelt down to pick up all the bits as best he could. Stupid breakable bottles. He glanced at the combadge that had been used as a projectile and on one hand, considered the hilarity of if that rant had been broadcast to the President. On the other hand, that would be real awkward. His tail lashed about while his ears remained pinned to his head as Atlas picked up the last of the glass and took it to the replicator for recycling. Impulse control now on the lower end of the scale since he had imbibed a fair bit of alcohol. He came to the very bad conclusion to go up there and give that woman a right piece of his mind. Though, likely any one of the pilots or a security staff member would stop him before he got to far and cause an incident on the Theurgy.
93
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi: S [Day 03 | 0145] By these wounds...
Last post by Dumedion -
[Vigenary Model I-9 Surgical Android | Surgery Suite 02 | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Eden  @Ellen Fitz  @Krajin 

Organics never ceased to amaze; their durability, while no where near equal in terms of raw physicality, had always proved fascinating. Vi-Nine listened with a tilt of her head, the ocular lens focused on Valin's features – which had started with what appeared to be a mix of pain-induced anxiety – but softened into a nebulous mask of humor.

Fascinating, Vi nearly giggled.

There was no need to break ‘eye contact’ with him; the blurred movements of her right hand proceeded apace – guided by the intrinsically linked sensors of the surgical table uploaded directly into her internal feeds. These guided the microsurgical tools built into the tips of her fingers as they danced just within and around the pilots wound, literally weaving the flesh together with regrowth. While this primary function required a majority of her processing capability, the android activated a brief memory search sub-routine for sufficient data, and considered her response. Based on the sum of every encounter with organics thus far, she deduced (with a marginal rate of error) that the Lieutenant’s question had been intended as humorous, perhaps rhetorically flavored; .089 seconds later, Vi-Nine processed and initiated what she calculated as an optimal response.

“Oh my,” she tisked and waved a glowing fingertip at him, her voice modulated in mimicry of one speaking admonishingly through a smile, “overindulgence with a substance as potent as Romulan ale? Gracious, I hope you learned your lesson, Mr. Valin,” a slight pause, as her voice dropped to a conspicuous whisper, “although, I would have loved to have been tapped into that rooms surveillance sensors to watch that scenario play out,” a playful wink followed, before another blurt of mechanized giggles at the absurdity of his final question.

“Although I’d relish the opportunity, I fear I’d wear the poor things out,” Vi teased, then tilted her head a bit in consideration. “I have operated on several, does that count? Oh, they’re often quite regulars in here; especially Zark - have you met Zark? You’ll love her, everyone does,” Vi patted his bare chest with her free hand casually. “I’ll put in a word for you with her, don’t you worry.”

Vi’s sensor-fed visual display lit up with accelerated checkpoints as the biometric readouts from the table and her own internal arrays verified subnormal reconstruction completion approaching 80 percent, with the patients bone grafts and corresponding musculature repair proceeding likewise within acceptable parameters.

Vi-Nine blinked at him reassuringly. “Almost done. A few more minutes, then a quick tickle test, and you’ll be on your way to the ward,” again, she used the same smiling tone of voice, as she raised her left hand and transformed her fingers into a series of mechanical tendrils – three from each finger, writhing with miniscule flickers of electrical current.
 
[LT Arven Leux | en route to Cryobay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]

He sprayed his hands with cleansing solution as he walked, pausing only to secure a few items from a nearby storage locker: heat pads, another foil blanket, and a fresh hypo. There wasn’t time to dwell on Zark; Arven trusted his people to get her where she needed to be and to do their jobs – they knew what to do.

Closing the locker, he allowed himself a second to run a hand over his face, trying to take a second to decompress. Things had gotten dicey; that was as close to losing someone as it got. A deep breath followed that admission.

Later, he told himself.

Compartmentalization took over; a mental coping mechanism that was as natural to him as cracking ones knuckles or a long stretch – Zark, and all the emotional baggage associated with those frantic moments that just transpired – was filed away into a box in his mind. One box among uncounted others, and all of them never, ever, touched each other - that was essential.

And it was just that easy; Arven’s mind cleared and focused on the next task at hand – he resumed his pace to cryo, the door opening with a spill of frigid air into the hall. Wasting no time, he draped the foil blanket over the patient, taking some of his weight from wolf-lady, and did a quick physical assessment.

“He’s going into shock,” Leux stated, “out into the hall,” he grunted. They needed to move him out of the freezing air. Cold wetness registered on his hand and arm, linked around the patients damp furry torso and limp arm. “Wounds are still open, dammit,” Arven grimaced; he’d never even completed surgery for why he’d been placed in stasis to begin with!

“Hypo,” Luex nodded to Ehfva once they got the patient into the hall and on a makeshift stretcher, then started stuffing the warming packs under the giant cat’s armpits and between his thighs. An audible hiss told him she’d used the hypo; he didn’t turn to meet her lupine eyes while he spoke. “We’ll have to seal these up as he comes to. Once Vi finishes he can go in for deeper work – stabilize and treat what we can for now.”

With deft movements, Leux tore the blanket back from the ravaged wounds to the patients arm and set about removing the melted uniform from flesh. If the Feresan had spoken, the Doctor hadn’t been paying much attention – he sounded like a sputtering digital record of ticking teeth and half-formed nonsensical words.

“Handle that burnt tissue on the head and neck,” Leux half asked, half stated, passing a dermal regenerator over to Ehfva with a glance down at the patient, just to verify his cognitive state. “Listen, just focus on breathing – you're coming out of months of cryostasis. If you need to throw up, tell us first,” he stated, then went back to work.
94
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi: S [Day 03 | 0145] By these wounds...
Last post by Krajin -
[ Lt.Thane Va’rek ] | Cryobay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @Eden

The struggle was real as the body refused to work the way he knew it should. Muscles and nerves were not firing in what his mind demanded them to do, and what did fire, only fired in a very limited capacity. The strange humanoid assisted him as his limbs gave out beneath him. Her body was an amalgam of something and Human, an odd snout, and other bits. His cold ears twitched, and as she instructed him on breathing, Thane followed the instruction. In through his very, very cold nose and out through the mouth. It didn't come easy by any means, as his body trembled from the cold and his instinct to breathe rapidly to try and get warm air in.

Thane got a weird feeling in his mouth as he felt that urge to puke come, though nothing was coming up at that moment. "T-Theurgy.. Yes..T-Thane.. Va..Va.. Va'rek.. S-s-security.." He managed out between cold, trembling breaths and chattering teeth. His pupils were wide like full moons, his body still reacting to the weird flight response from being trapped in the cryo pod. Then came the issue of the injuries he had suffered when he had been placed in the pod in the first place. The plasma scorched cybernetic. His arm, while mostly functional, still bore the marks of a plasma discharge with melted Skyn and flesh, though it lacked the smell of such thankfully. With that came the burns on his shoulder, touching up near the neck and onto part of his torso like fingers reaching out for his heart. Most of which was covered by the burnt undershirt he had on. It honestly looked horrifying to those who had never seen what a partially degloved limb looked like.

His fleshy hand trembled as he tried to lift it and place it upon Ehfva's shoulder. The pain was starting to return, and while he couldn't make up his mind on what it was caused by, the man did not look at himself. He vaguely remembered what had happened and knew he was not to look at it, lest his brain suddenly remember and he go into shock. Instead, he stared at the nurse before him despite knowing that something was wrong with him, and it wasn't just the cold. "H-How long...?" He asked between shaky breaths.
95
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epilogue: They That Shed Their Blood [Day 03 | 1800 ]
Last post by Dumedion -
[Ens. Talia “Shadow” Al-Ibrahim | Arboretum | Deck 22 | Vector 3| USS Theurgy] Attn: All
[Show/Hide]
The names were read, now etched in stone.

The faces of the lost flickered in cones of holoprojected photons, grainy but visible to all.

Across the cavernous chamber, all fell silent as a lone trumpet drew its first mournful notes – followed almost imperceptibly by a hundred subtle shifts of fabric and the faintest chorus of heels clicking together as those assembled moved to attention.

Talia swallowed her emotions and moved with them involuntarily, through several blinks; anger faded in the face of propriety. There would be a time and a place to ask questions, to dwell, to replay every memory and conversation, to rage and to grieve. At the end of the day, she knew herself well enough to know that all of it would simply become another stone for her to lift; just another burden added to the weight she carried around every second of every day.

She’d never admit it out loud, but Talia drew a twisted, misplaced sense of pride from it. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, the saying went, after all...but lately, Shadow couldn't help but notice the flaws in that philosophy: the chip on her shoulder, the way she judged herself, the way she judged others...

Who would want to know someone like that?

Some people were gifted with an aura of charm; they had a way of talking, a welcoming demeanor  that attracted everyone with ease. More than a few examples came to her mind.

Yet there she stood, just one person in a crowd; lost in a sea of strangers.

Utterly alone.

As the bugle played, dark chocolate eyes tracked several shifts in posture in the vicinity; hands were held, shoulders leaned together, and more than a few broke their bearing altogether – as the air wracked with muffled sobs.

The tears flowed, then; unbidden, uncontrolled, but silent. Talia let them roll down her flushed cheeks while she held firm, because the dead deserved respect, and reverence. This wasn’t about her and it didn’t matter how she felt – not there, not then.

When the final note faded with the memorials conclusion, Talia released the breath she’d been holding in a sigh that shook her entire body. There was no desire to linger, no reason to go up to the wall; she knew the names writ upon the stone.

The pilot wiped the tear streaks from her face deftly, then turned and strode to the nearest exit, weaving through the throng in purposeful strides. She had promises to keep, and people to check in with.

[LT Arven Leux | Med Lab 01 | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy]
[Show/Hide]
The theoretical showed promise; that in and of itself told Arven he was on the right path to a working practical. Everything seemed to hinge on the patients ability to “trigger” the shift at the cellular level, a mystery locked away within the body, or the mind?

Or both, he wondered, analyzing the screeds of data that scrolled across the screens while his mind ran through the checklist of absolute non-viable options already discarded.

It was a short list, but longer than the potential remedies.
 
“I need more data,” Leux sighed, hands lifted from the ceaseless choreography of command inputs to palm his aching eyes. What he really needed was sleep; at least a few hours while the simulations ran, and the first batch of compounds replicated.
 
Testing would be required. Failure was likely. Pain was assured – a lot of it.

He’d explain it to her in a few hours.
96
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi S: [Day 03 | 0320] The Lab Assessment
Last post by Eirual -
[Ens Mia Dunne | Archaeology & Geology Lab | Deck 07 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
ATTN:  @Nesota Kynnovan

Mia frowned as she looked at the smoldering debris she had yet to dispose of, “We do not have another to run the tests  we would like.” Taking a breath she looked back at Nathan, “it was already dead, or at least we got no sign of life from it. And they are considered to be too dangerous to have around, even if they might be dead, since we don’t even know where they came from.” 

She stepped out a little more staring down at the fried parasite, “Oh well, I wasn’t having much success anyway.” She began to turn back to the storage units when the other officer offered to assist, “I just have to get these samples back in their storage units. I hate that they have been contaminated, but I still need them.” The scientist passed over a few of the rock samples and pointed to their storage locations. “I am Mia, Mia Dunne.  I still have a lot to do, I’ve been helping in sickbay all day. I just needed a change of scenery.”
97
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epilogue: They That Shed Their Blood [Day 03 | 1800 ]
Last post by Eirual -
[Ens Mia Dunne | Arboretum | Deck 22 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]
Attn: @RyeTanker   @Brutus    @Nolan  @Ellen Fitz   @chXinya    @Dumedion  @Griff  @rae  @Stegro88  @tongieboi  @Pierce  @Tae  @Nesota Kynnovan  @Hans Applegate   @joshs1000  @Krajin  @Eden  @TWilkins  @ob2lander961   @P.C. Haring  

Mia stood just inside the doorway of the Arboretum. It wasn’t where she wanted to be at all. She still hurt, both physically and emotionally, from their missions and the loss of so many of the crew. She had barely gotten to know some of them before this insidious parasite had caused their deaths. She felt as if whatever she had done, it just wasn’t enough. She wasn’t able to do what was needed fast enough. Because of that, people were killed. She barely recalled their escape from the Hobus Facility, being one of the wounded that was just running for their lives. And to return to a battered ship and even more dead and wounded. Despite her own injuries, she had tried to assist medical. Doing menial tasks so the medical crew was free to treat the injured. Seeing Zark there had brought her up short. It felt like an impossibility that her friend could have been hurt bad, but there she was, unconscious and unaware of her surroundings. 

She forced her attention back to the Acting or new captain, feeling the loss of Ives among them. Ives, who had welcomed her back from her cryo-sleep not that long ago was now the one in stasis. She wasn’t sure if he was one of the lucky ones or not.
For the second time ever her eyes looked at the names carved on the memorial wall. She could feel the tears fill her eyes and the lump form in her throat when she saw Tyreke’s name. She felt an overwhelming need to get out of the crowded room. Even before the President began speaking, she turned and quickly made her way to the exit. She didn’t get too far down the corridor, weaving past others gathered there, before she couldn’t breathe  or see clearly through the tears. It was too much. She didn’t even realize when she all but ran into someone at the end of the corridor. She just sort of bounced off of them and fell against the wall, and slid to the floor in her grief.

[Kelistina (Kel) Kavot Droga | Deck 10 |Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

Kelistina did not know many of the crew. She was still more of an outsider that happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. She had found those two that had died, and had tried to protect the vessel that had taken her in.  There was still much to be done in the way of repairs. So here she was, welding bulkheads and repairing wiring while those who had served on the Theurgy for a long time were at what they called a memorial. She would remember the ones lost in her own way. When the Arboretum was empty and she could honor them in the way of her people.

It was ironic that they had taken her in, just before the maddness came on board. And now she was part of the crew, even if it was accidental. While she felt saddened by the number of deaths, but many had also survived, unlike her own home world. Kel was also relieved to have some sort of a home and others around her once again. Even if she would never have a mate, or a child. Sometimes, even in the throes of pain, if one looked they could find a semblance of peace within. With that thought in mind she went back to repairing the home she had found on the Theurgy.

98
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi S: [Day 03 | 0800] Meeting of the Minds
Last post by Eirual -
[Ens Mia Dunne | Deck 01 |  Vector 01 | Conference Lounge | USS Theurgy]
[ATTN: @Brutus, @Pierce, @chXinya, @Nesota Kynnovan, @Ellen Fitz]

Mia had availed herself of the replicator earlier, getting a very large cup of hot tea that she had sipped in as the others gave their reports. She was still sore from her mission to the Hobus station, but she was hiding it well. At least she thought she was, even if she did wince and stifle a groan as she retook her seat.

 When the new Cybernetics officer introduced herself, Mia found it hard not to think of Tyreke. It still hurt so much. She forced herself not to let her sorrow for his loss become evident, although she had to blink back a few tears. She was also not happy that this man, this interloper Frost was now their acting chief. It should have been one of the crew already on board. This man didn’t even know they had their own conference room, for fuck’s sake.

Mia had to hide the smirk behind her tea when Sarresh practically told him to keep his ass out of his labs. She had already met the Canadian earlier, however he had failed to tell her of his position on board. A fact she found slightly disrespectful to her. She sighed and followed her fellow officers’ example and pushed out of her seat to stand, once again fighting to keep her pain from her face. “Well,” she began, “You already know my name, and have seen the lad I usually work in. Since we didn’t really have a geologist. I am a Xenoarchaeology as well as a Xenoanthropologist. Other than waiting on engineering to make some repairs to some of the equipment, I can take care of the lab. Sir.“ She sat back down letting her body sink into the chair.

99
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi: S [Day 03 | 0145] By these wounds...
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Ehfva Feynri | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]  @Eden  @Dumedion  @Krajin   @RyeTanker

The corridor outside Sickbay was only marginally quieter than the ward itself. The distant rhythm of biobeds, shouted orders, and the low hum of surgical fields bled through the open doors behind her as Ehfva moved toward the cryogenics section.

She had made it only a few steps before a familiar voice drifted from one of the surgical suites.

"…misjudged a threesome with an Andorian and a Risan on Risa…" Ehfva stopped. The story continued in a strained, half-groaned cadence that carried just enough clarity to be understood through the doorway. Sedatives had softened the edges of the words, but not the personality behind them.

She turned her head slightly, ears angling toward the sound without conscious instruction. An old habit. Her grandparents had called it the first gift — the body listening before the mind agreed to.

"…instead returned to Ardana with an amusing story and a citation for excessive consumption of Romulan ale."

For a moment she simply stood there. Then, despite everything — the deep ache that had settled into the long muscles of her legs after the battle, the lingering copper taste of recycled emergency air still coating the back of her throat, the particular exhaustion that came not from injury but from the ongoing tax of keeping herself from trying to shift and causing more pain for herself when every instinct underneath said shift, drop, go to ground — a small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her muzzle.

Cute. Drug-fogged, half-disassembled by surgery, and the pilot was still trying to flirt with a medical android. Good.

That meant his mind was still reaching outward instead of folding inward on itself. She had seen both. Knew the difference between the two kinds of quiet. She had shared a bunk with soldiers the night before their deployment who told jokes until their voices went hoarse, and she had held soldiers in the dirt of Kyodai Obi who stared at nothing and made no sound at all. The ones who kept talking lived longer — not always in body, but in the parts that mattered most. No spiraling self-pity. No quiet resignation. Just humor and questionable judgment.

He would recover.

Keokuk would have laughed at that story. The thought arrived without warning, the way his memory sometimes did — not with grief's usual weight but with something more like the impression of warmth left on a surface after a hand had been withdrawn. He'd had a gift for finding the absurd in the most ill-timed places. He would have stored the pilot's Risan misadventure and reproduced it later, embellished, at the worst possible moment.

Ehfva allowed herself that small conclusion before turning away again. The moment passed as quickly as it had come. She was learning not to chase them.

She continued on towards cryo and noted how the air changed as she entered the cryo section. Colder. Sharper. The sterile bite of it registered first on the inside of her nose — different from the cold of Okashii Atama's asteroid mornings, different from the pressurized chill of battle-damaged corridors she'd moved through in her feral form during the civil war, belly low, breath controlled. This cold was manufactured. Maintained. It had no weather in it.

Emergency indicators blinked along one of the rows of pods, pale light reflecting off drifting vapor that curled slowly across the deck like something trying to decide which direction was down. And there. A Ferasan male had already forced his pod partially open, frost clinging to dark fur and bare skin alike. One arm gripped the edge of the chamber while his body fought the sluggish betrayal of muscles only beginning to remember warmth. Ehfva had watched a kit from her grandparents' colony fall through ice once on a frozen run — that same thrashing quality, that same body-wide confusion that predated coherent thought.

She closed the distance quickly.

"Easy."

She reached him just as his balance faltered, both hands coming up to steady him before gravity could finish the job. Her claws curled inward automatically, gripping fabric and the solid ridge of his shoulder rather than flesh — a precision that had taken years to develop. She guided him back against the rim of the cryo unit, taking the weight without comment.

Up close, she could feel the cold radiating off him in waves. Not just the ambient chill of the cryo pod but the deep cold carried in his skin itself, in the slow tissue of a body that had been suspended and was not yet certain it wanted to be otherwise.

"Don't fight it," she said, voice rough but steady. "Slow breaths."

Her grip shifted, firming as his body trembled with the violent shivers of reawakening metabolism. She had felt this before — not stasis-reawakening but a different version of the same betrayal, the body recalling itself after the mind had already moved on. It was not comfortable. It was not meant to be comfortable. But it ended.

"In — through your nose." She demonstrated, drawing a slow breath herself, filling her lungs with deliberate patience. "Out through the mouth. Again."

The fog of his breath thickened in the cold air. She kept one hand braced behind his shoulder blades, preventing him from collapsing forward, her other hand steady at his arm. She didn't speak to fill the silence. She had learned silence early, raised among elders who considered noise a form of waste, and she had relearned it later in the field, where silence was survival. She used it now as a tool — letting him hear his own breathing over her voice, letting his nervous system find its own rhythm rather than chase hers.

"You're safe," she continued, when the first sharp peak of disorientation seemed to crest. She lowered her voice into something calmer — something meant to anchor rather than command. "USS Theurgy. Cryogenics bay."

Her ears angled back briefly as a distant alarm chirped somewhere deeper in the medical deck, reflexive and involuntary, tracking the sound and categorizing it as non-immediate before her expression registered anything at all.

"We've recently come through a battle," she added evenly. "Which means things are loud at the moment." A pause — not uncertainty, but the deliberate spacing of information, the way her grandparents had once parceled out instruction to the kits: one thing at a time, until the thing was held. "But you're among professionals. You're not alone."

She did not know him. He did not know her. That was fine. She had sat with strangers in worse states than this on the dirt floors of captured outposts in Kyodai Obi. She had learned, through those years and the ones that followed, that it was not kinship that a person needed in those first disoriented moments after something terrible. It was simply presence. A body that was not a threat. A voice that was not asking anything.

"Your body just came out of stasis. It will feel wrong for a few minutes. That is normal. Take your time."

She held him steady through another shuddering breath cycle, watching his pupils — dilation, tracking, the slow return of voluntary focus — watching the posture of his shoulders, the changing quality of the tremors as they moved from the deep involuntary shaking of cold reawakening toward the finer, more manageable trembling of a body finding its edges again.

"Good," she murmured, when the breathing began to stabilize. "Just like that."
100
Main OOC Board / Re: Main OOC Thread
Last post by Pierce -
FYI I will be on vacation and out of town between 3/16-3/24 for any threads. I'll try to catch up quickly on my return. I plan to catch up before I leave too ;)
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