Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sabin led him inside, not stopping as they breezed through a plush lobby with a view of the ocean over the tops of the jungle canopy. Down a corridor, sterile and white and smelling like anitseptic, and to an elevator bay.

The elevator dinged open as they arrived, and he escored Sid inside.

"Floor 8" He spoke aloud, and the elevator surged into motion.

A few seconds later, the elevator opened into a large examination room.

"Have a seat" Sabin gestured to a chair. "It will just take me a moment to prepare the innoculation.

Sabin went to the serum cabinet and proceeded to pick through the bottles, scanning the labels. Mostly the same set of serums that had been available for the last few picks with the last few groups of subjects.... but apparently there had been a new delivery from one of the teams since last time. Reading over the labels, one caught his attention. Viperfish - the anglers of the deep, big teeth snapping out of the inky black waters, lit by the lure. How would that work?

Sabin glanced back towards the older man in the chair.

One way to find out.

He loaded the vial into the needle, grabbed a cotton swab and approached Sid. Swabbing his arm, he quickly slid the needle into his tricep, squeezed the liquid into his arm, and withdrew it. THe injection was relatively painless, thanks to Sabin's steady, practiced hand. Although there was the inevitable pinch as the serum entered his arm, followed by a heat that spread over his body.

"Annnd, that's that~! I can take you back down to the jeep and to where you'll be staying." Sabin smiled pleasantly.

"No problem. I'm sure that the flights over here didn't help much. I'll get you to your room, you can get some rest, and greet the next day anew.... and all that jazz."

Sabin led him into the elevator and back the way they came, out to the same jeep waiting for them in the parking lot with Sid's baggage.

Helping him in, Sabin set off in a different direction, through another gate, and another jungle road.

IT was about a five or ten minute drive and then jungle melted away, revealing the aformentioned village. It was set up in a wheel-like pattern around a large central building. Sabin headed out towards the far spoke, and eventually stopped in front of the 57/58 unit.

Fishing a key out of his pocket, Sabin handed it to Sid. "You're in number 58. Sorry to tell you it's an upstairs unit. But I can help you get your things upstairs. But hey! It's good excercise, right?" He gave him an inane smile.

Sabin clapped him on the back. "It's part of the therapy. Well, at least I presume so, seeing as how your room was pre-assigned. I'm sure they know what they're doing - they wouldn't have given you a top if they didn't think you could manage."

Sabin grabbed the luggage and carried it up after him, depositing it in the hotel-like room for Sid before clapping him on the back. "If you need anything, or have any questions, just press 0 on the intercom in your room. ANd if you want to reach any of the guests, dial by their room number followed by the # key."

Sabin grinned. "Great to meet you, Mr. Eisley, take care!" And with a wave, Sabin was back out to the jeep and returning to the labs.

Exhaustion kept Sid down until nightfall. It was just another sad reminder he couldn’t bounce back like he used to, but that was the furthest thing from his mind in those first confusing moments of consciousness. The host of new aches and pains that had settled in while he was sleeping came first, and then came the horrible feeling that he’d done something stupid again. The memory of where he was and why caught up to him before he had time to panic. Silly of him to think he could have gotten blackout drunk when he hadn’t even had a drink since the accident. Then again, painkillers had done just as well in the interim. All that made him feel some force beyond his control didn’t want him completely sober, and who was he to argue with higher powers?

He switched on the light by the bed and winced from the sudden rush. He had the aspirin to blame for the slight nausea, all the traveling to blame for the aching from his back down, but the throbbing in his skull was harder to define. He didn’t let it worry him, like everything it would pass if he just waited. In the meantime, if he wanted to get up, he had to retrieve his cane. Not wanting to risk putting any weight on his right leg, he instead risked pulling a muscle by leaning over the bed and straining to reach for where the cane had fallen. He got it after the third lunge, which nearly sent him rolling off the bed. Nearly, but not quite. Grimly pleased with himself, Sid stood up and walked to his bags. All that he needed fit neatly into two bags, though his clothes and other essentials were stuffed a little too tightly into their duffle bag. He could unpack those later. In the meantime there was the sack that had originally been used for laundry, the one that contained his typewriter case. He dragged it over to the nearest table and, after he sad down, hoisted the case out of the bag and on to it.

The typewriter was, by most standards, ancient. Hell, most people would have shaken their heads over the fact he still used one. He hadn’t trusted computers ever since that incident in ’84 when the model he purchased inexplicably caught fire. Unlike that hack Ellison, he never let his dislike progress into a series of bad stories about computers attacking their owners and destroying the world. He just liked that the worst he could expect from a typewriter was a paper jam. Once it was out on the table he dug a pack of paper from the bag. He was kidding himself thinking he could just dive in and bang out something nice and meaningful, but it was enough just to go through the motions. He should have eaten something, should have even gone to see about getting something to drink. Instead he destroyed page after page and cigarette after cigarette until the hours caught up with him and forced him to sleep again. His duplex was well on its way to being a mess, the first scraps of crumpled paper and cigarettes were only the first scouts in the untouched landscape.

He’d see about being sociable, maybe even eating something, after he woke up. As far as rehabilitation was concerned, he fully intended to beg off for as long as he could cling to the pretense of getting settled.

A vulture and a middle aged man walk into a bar. The joke stops there.

Link: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=1397560&page=24

One horribly sunny morning, in the cafeteria...

Link: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=1140526&page=289