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 Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2012 1:46 am
Clerise slowly drifted back into consciousness. Her limbs felt like deadweight against the bed she was apparently laying in, and her mouth was absolutely parched. Everything was sore in all the wrong places, and honestly, Clerise couldn't remember much of anything.
She knew, then, she had been dreaming or something like it for quite some time, but of what, she couldn't be certain.
For a moment, Clerise wondered where she was and even who she was, in a split second of her brain refusing to cooperate with the fact that she was awake once more.
Dull, repetitive beeping accompanied the memories seeped back into her brain, a few flashes here and there returning before the vast majority. It was a relief to know that she hadn't been on a mission when this had happened, merely training with Clarice and Marcus.
The 'this' was, apparently, being knocked out. God.
Thinking back on what had sent her into this state, Clerise recalled that they, they being herself and Marcus, had made a wordless decision towards the end of their spar with Clerise. The Life trainee's FEAR shield had been low, awfully low, and she'd made the decision to forge onwards instead of admit defeat. She'd done this with the express disapproval of Balthazar-- but that wasn't unusual.
He disapproved of everything.
In fact, Clerise was pretty sure he had been lecturing her right as Clarice's weapon connected with her ribcage, stopping only when her body careened through the air like a ragdoll, having been hit with an extremely powerful blow on Clarice's part.
It had been bliss, for a moment, to fly again. Wind in her hair, the weightlessness of momentum, defying gravity.
All good things must come to an end, of course, and unfortunately for Clerise, the euphoria had been cut short by the bricks she connected with. Her body slamned against the wall, the rubble collapsing on top of her as she succumbed to the more Newtonian forces of life.
The pain had only last a split second, and given her current aching state, Clerise couldn't say she wasn't grateful for it.
Before moving her arms or even opening her eyes, the redhead let loose a sigh, then a low and bitter "********."
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2012 2:15 am
"Looks like someone's finally awake," a chipper voice offered as Clerise began to stir, her tone sweet like honey in the insincere way of waitresses, especially when they weren't that happy you were there in the last fifteen minutes before the diner closed.
Not like Clerise was one of those people that did that, or anything.
She opened her eyes and gave the woman a withering stare. She had strawberry blonde hair that fell in loose ringlets that framed her face, pale green eyes, and cherry red lips.
All Clerise wants to do is tell the woman to ******** off and bring her some food. Instead, all that comes out is a murmured "you look like a doll," in a near awestruck voice.
Even to her own ears she sounded slurred and disoriented, and the woman's bright expression shifted to clinical concern as Clerise struggled to sit up.
"Oh no, no, no, no!" she scolded, as if she were speaking to a dog, rushing to Clerise's side. "Where exactly do you think you're going?" Gloved hands gently pushed her back down against the bed by the shoulders, tsking in the back of her throat. "You're not going anywhere for at least a week. Doctor's orders."
Clerise scoffed in reply, or at least, she tried to. It came out more a disappointed huff. "Yeah, whatever," is all she managed to get out, sinking back against the hospital bed.
Or at least, she was pretty sure it was a hospital bed. Taking the time to observe her surroundings, red eyes scanned all around her. There was an IV in her arm, hooked up to the bag near her bed. There were also a few pads that connected to a machine to monitor her vitals-- after one night of binge drinking, she'd woken up with alcohol poisoning.
Not fun. Incredibly painful, in fact, and it was miraculous to Clerise that she could feel worse now than she had after a very night of binge drinking in the Valley of Texas.
"Don't you yeah whatever me," the nurse said, lowering her cateye glasses to give the trainee a very firm glare. Clerise noticed the striping for intermediate hunters on her coat, the familiar branches of life covering the bottom of it. "You've been out for seventy hours, missy. You're going to cooperate with me and not make me get the Doctor, are we quite clear?"
It felt a little like being scolded by a mother, which was a bafflingly unfamiliar situation for Clerise. She nodded mutely, picking a little at the needle in her arm. She was left blinking owlishly as the nurse swished out, unsure of whether or not it was the drugs or the sudden knowledge that she'd been out cold for three solid days keeping her well behaved.
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2012 2:48 am
Nonetheless, she was left to her own devices while the unnamed nurse went and rustled things up in a nearby room. Clerise looked to the table beside her, and saw that a few of her possessions were there. Her phone was arranged neatly next to Balthazar, and her coat (or what was left of it) was folded as nicely as possible on the chair next to her. Reaching for the phone, Clerise set about texting a few people. Maybe the nurse would tell some people, but...She felt it was important to let some people know. It was slow going, given the state of her clumsy fingers and how much backspacing was necessary. To Miss Lady: lizbot hey im awake or whatever sorry n stuff To Enrique: iStoleYurVamps what up enrique im awake and s**t Depressingly, that was her whole list of people to notify she was awake from a coma after three days. "Look at you, miss busy bee," the nurse crooned, peeking her head back in. She had a syringe in one hand and an almost wistful smile on her face. "Do you want to know the damage you've done?" she asked, a hand on her hip. "I'd rather know your name," is the dreamy reply, and Clerise doesn't have the good graces to regret it. Her response is a chuckle. "I'm Camilla Jenkins, a nurse around here when I'm not out running errands for McDrea- uhm," her cheeks coloured a little at the slip of the tongue, "For Dr. Leibniz. And you, young lady, need to take it easy." Clerise rolled her eyes halfheartedly, even as Camilla injected whatever cocktail of drugs that was into her IV. She began to count off her patient's transgressions on her fingers. "Fractured ribs, a slipped disc, cracked wrist-- were you, in fact, trying to kill yourself?" She had the decency to look sheepish. "No?" Calloused fingers toyed with the phone idly, red eyes trained to her hands instead of up at the nurse. "I will spare you the lecture, if only because I'm sure you'll feel it once the morphine wears off. I'll be back in six hours to check on you, food will be delivered by someone else. Don't get into any trouble." The last sentence was uttered with cheerful cruelty. "Or else. Bye bye now!" Heaving a sigh, Clerise laid back against the pillows. Despite waking up moments ago, she was ...she was just so tired. She succumbed to sleep once more.
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