Welcome to Gaia! ::

The name-title spoken so earnestly and repeatedly eventually broke through the haze over the constant STILL.

Thraen. That's me.

He could feel her weight and the pressure on his back. Blessedly, his body was rallying a bit of endorphins to combat the pain receptors for tens of seconds. "ffm mmmmrr"

T-shirt in mouth. He unclenched his jaw- it felt like it needed oiling the muscles were so tense. "I'm with you. Once this secondary bleed is stopped with the five minutes, take a look at how I did my face. The butterflies held the skin mostly together, sectioning the gash off into dashes. Then you hold a dash closed with one hand and apply the glue over it to seal it. Hold it for roughly three minutes to set and then move to the next section. Boring, but effective. "

"You're doing great, Acrucis. Really. This is a big help- you're doing fine. "

"Something..."
Open ended was dangerous given the randomness that ruled the card-catalog of his brain when he HAD all the blood he needed to think rapidly and coherently. As it was someone demanding information was something of a base function enough that it worked.

"Do you like medieval music? A lot of early stuff that has survived to modern study is monophonic hymns that researchers have had to dissect from later polyphonic Alto, Tenor, and Bass parts added during subsequent periods like the 13th to 15th centuries. A lot of it is based in standard liturgical documents with handfuls of different verses and different songs all using the same bases- maybe problematic for hard line atheists to swallow, but one doesn't have to believe in the sentiment to enjoy the emotionality and feel of a piece. Maybe that's an opinion. I'm sure that's an opinion. "

He wasn't going to be able to parse information from opinions, so he stopped trying. " The standard pattern for the medieval followed a uniform series of four-line stanzas, each preceded by a two-line refrain. You might recognize the pattern in such old songs as carols, where this was known as the 'burden'. December and carols. I haven't been caroling at all this year, but I don't most years- I play an instrument because I'm far too shy to sing. I can carry a tune alright when I'm alone, you know...biking somewhere. Do you sing much?" In the pause he close his eyes, biting the shirt again as the nerves broke through the endorphins in built wave of pain again. Just calmly bit the shirt, show nothing.

He gave it another moment, putting the shirt down from his mouth again, "Will you be going caroling?"

Church- I guess the crosses aren't just part of the general fashion statement then. If he had a brain at that moment, he would have asked what sort of church, or about her beliefs. Religious moved so much of history and the world that it was frequently a part of his studies.

But an actual understanding and neutral, and respectful discussion was definitely out of his reckoning on a potentially hot button topic like that. "Not much of a homecoming...all this. My parents have a lot of houses...Destiny City was just another place, but happened to have a university and my cousin, so I stayed here for school. "

"How old are you, Acrucis? "

The five minutes was all the wound needed to stop bleeding again, with how cold the room was (the little electric space heater still not having been turned on), how much blood he'd already lost, and the clotting that had already been allowed over the course of the day.

"Close...is a possible term. Neither...had siblings, and we got on alright. We'd miss each other." At least, he thought they would. They drove each other a special kind of crazy- she couldn't care less for the law and he couldn't care more. But somehow they each seemed to show up when the other might need help without calling.

She'd been there for him at the hospital, and he'd been there for her times before (even if she'd told him to go away). Visions of Stroud young, first bringing him clay or rocks and sneaking him a Dremel all blurred from various occasions into a single montage.

She asked a question. Why was I asked how old she was? It took a count of moments. He could only answer honestly. "I don't even remember, actually. "

"Have you brought Phact here to show her the place yet? Its messy now...I should clean it. I don't think now though."

I don't want to stand up now. Or tomorrow.

He didn't lift his head to follow her, instead watching the cadence here and there of shapely calves white booted- wait...could a cadence be watched? I can see sound now? Oh, that's very helpful. How much of this conversation am I even going to be able to recall clearly?

The arrival of the turned on heater, however, chased thought away for a moment while he debated between the blessedness of nearby heat and the desire to just curl around the thing ( missing any implications of that being burny), and how much he didn't want to move at all. Then she was at his side again, and the disapproval in her voice was heartening. She was recovering from the shock and worry of his condition to scold him.

Don't emote. Your lip is split top and bottom, glue or not. Is talking really better? Maybe not. But I need to anyway. "I'm not in any danger of moving about any time in the very near future. Tomorrow I'll need to sit up and get these ribs wrapped and supported with a bandage, but today I think the laceration wins. "

"I don't think I'm getting home today either. You shouldn't stay too long though. "

"You still live with your folks, don't you? Or a guardian maybe. Someone will be worried if you didn't come home. Unless you're emancipated, I guess. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be able to do anything except sleep and drink water. Which would mean needing the case of bottles brought near. You're doing a lot. "

The fussing with the back hurt, but it was starting to feel disembodied from his awareness again. It didn't require so much focus and effort to not clench his jaw or not move. What energy he'd had on waking was spent again on the Listerine and cleaning of the wound.

"When you use your magic, " he started, voice lilting similar to asking a meditation question similar to the sound of one hand clapping, "Can you use it on yourself? And if you do...does it still leave you tired?"

"There's more than this camp-ground cushion over there." He didn't have it in him to give an argument about having an impromptu sleepover, and it was ultimately appreciated. If anything went wrong, there'd be someone to notice or call on without the need for confusing, delirious texts.

Hopefully this Phact wouldn't mind the inconvenience of an idiot super senshi needing to be put back together again. The thought elicited the lightest of chuckles, and he mumbled, "All the king's horses and all the king's men. But one has put me together again."

It didn't take any more urging but her gentleness, and he closed his eyes. He stank of mouthwash, blood and cold sweat, so it was extra kind. It didn't even occur to him, as the world drifted away again, that the entire conversation had been using 'Thraen' and not once 'Quenton'.