placeholder for Infirmary stuff

[inquisitivehero]

The Infirmary is quiet, save for soft humming and beeps. A few beds are surrounded by their privacy curtains, but the occupants are either asleep or not making a sound.

At the back of the Infirmary, several machines hum along on their tasks, set to solve puzzles and locked under strictest controls.

In the Office, a computer system hums and file cabinets and bookshelves occupy every wall with records and reference volumes.


((ooc: open to Infirmary threads))

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[inquisitivehero]

Hank carries Jadis into the Infirmary and to a very large bed, one he himself has used before, quiote some time ago. He gently lays her down and flicks on the Monitor next to her bed, which hums with power as it comes alive and begins scanning her.

He turns back to her.

"Now, can you tell me anything about what happenned to you?"

[whitest_witch]

Jadis stares, wide-eyed, at the strange contraption. She looks back at Hank.

"So. . . nothing. Nothing to say there was anything but nothing and maybe I'm not here but. . ." She twists her hands together and starts over.

"There was nothing. Then fire like flowers and blue and pain and here. Before that. . . Lucy. I remember Lucy. And the Lion. And that. . . not a dwarf, but like a dwarf. But she's new, I don't know her, so is this a real place?"

[inquisitivehero]

Hankw atches the monitor and her, splitting his focus and then nods.

"From the monitor's information, you should be dead, but... you are healing at an exceptionally fast rate. You may in fact be well in just a few days. I cant make any promises though. And for now, you need rest most of all. THis place is usually peaceful, and you should be able to get some rest here."

[whitest_witch]

Jadis smiles, wryly. "I cannot die."

Here eyes flutter closed, but she forces them open again. Not oblivion, not now. Never again.

[inquisitivehero]

"You do need to rest, however, to sleep if you can. Otherwise the pain myay get worse."

He looks at her with concern in his eyes. Whoever she was, he did not like allowing others wo be in paiun.

[whitest_witch]

She sits up and grabs his arm. "Not yet. . ." Her eyes are pleading. "Don't make me go back. Just a little longer. . . So I can almost believe it's real. . ."

[inquisitivehero]

He nods, his eyes concerned and sits in a chair near her bed.

"At least lay back. I guess I should tell you about this place and it's rules before you sleep anyway."

He smiles.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

[whitest_witch]

"Just. . . water."





"Please."

[inquisitivehero]

He nods and rises agin, going to the Monitor and punching a couple of buttons. A table slips out of it's side and he drags it over next to her bed. It is set into the floor, it's legs running on grooves there. he punches another button and cool clear water pours into a cup, which he plucks out of a small bay and brings to her.

"Here you go. Drink carefully, and slowly."

He will help her with the cup if she allows, or slips. Otherwise he will let her do it alone.

Then he sits again.

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

Mark stumbles into the infirmary, leaning on Angel for support. He's gaping at his friend. "Wait, you're telling me that I was trying to write a musical? Great. I should have figured that if Music with Rocks In would hit me that's what I would do." He mutters. "At least I wasn't writing protests or angsty songs."

[the_antiangst]

"Well, not at first. At first I nearly mistook you for Roger. But mostly, yes, musical. And really, I'm not sure why the stuff didn't go after me, but mostly it left me alone."
...Yeah, Angel definitely picked up on the music needling him with Angel!Mark.

[inquisitivehero]

hank sees them coming and hurries over.

"What happenned?"

He is all business after flashing them both a smile.

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

".... I was Roger? Oh, heavens above." Mark's about to say something else when Hank comes over. It might be noted that Mark is still in the Santa drag. "Er, well, let's see. Um. I don't know what I've been doing for a while. Angel probably knows how long I've been nuts, but er, I kinda fell off a table and four-inch-heels, and can't put much weight on my right ankle."

Upon examination, the ankle isn't broken, but it is a Really Nasty Sprain.

[the_antiangst]

"Well, you weren't Roger for very long. Or as... thoroughly as the shit had you acting like me." Angel just shakes his head; it may be obvious to Mark that Angel would've beaten the hell out of the music, had it been, you know, tangible.
Turning to Hank, he adds, "I'm just here for support. And to keep the idiot from going after his camera with a tall-shoe sprain." Hank, for his part, might note that Angel's in a far better emotional state than he was this afternoon. Comes of getting his best friend back, more than likely.

[inquisitivehero]

Hank nods and waves at a nearby bed.

"Let's get you up here for a little while. I weant to take a quick look at it and make sure it isnt a break. Okay?"

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

Mark blinks at Angel. "How long has this crap been around?" Pause. "Or, er, how long have I been nuts?"

He does get up on the bed, though, wincing as he moves the ankle. Damn shoes. Damn music.

[the_antiangst]

"Ten or twelve days, I think. To both questions."

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

Mark is sitting up on the bed, tying one of his shoes. The other he gave up on, due to ankle immobilizer. He needs that camera.

[withrocksin]

"...Are you in some sort of hurry?"
This from one of the other beds in the room; from its occupant, more accurately. Funny thing, though, Mark might find he looks ever-so-slightly familiar.

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

"Well, not any hurry that people might understand. But I left my camera back where I live, and, well, I have to go get it." He sighs. "Losing a week and a half to insanity is never useful."

[withrocksin]

"A week and a..."
And then the dim recognition sinks in, and Imp facepalms. "The music got to you, didn't it? Gods, I'm sorry. That... that wasn't supposed to happen."

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

"Oh, don't worry about it." He cracks a smile. "Other than scaring the crap out of my best friend, from what I hear I was actually kinda entertaining." He stands, grabbing the crutches and gimping over. "I'm Mark, by the way."

[withrocksin]

"Imp. Nice to meet you." Properly, this time. "And... I didn't think that stuff woulld follow me in here. I was trying to get away from it."
He's still adjusting to the idea that everyone might not hate him for bringing it in, however accidentally.

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

"Hell, I think I would be wanting to get away from it too, from what I know of its affects on people." He smiles. "Not a big deal. This place is so full of crack anyway that what's a bit more?" Somewhere in there, Mark's realized who he's talking to, and there's a tiiiiiiiiiny hint of fanboy in his eyes.

[withrocksin]

"Peoplle could have died, though, if it had stuck around much llonger. I just hope it's done bothering me."