Welcome to Gaia! ::

A long few days separated the survivors from freedom. Quarantined together in a square room, there was only the thin drape of fabric around each of the four hospital beds for any form of privacy. The IVs had been removed, but the diet of high protein food and shakes were bland and hard to swallow. It was a long, boring wait to be deemed clear of touch of parasites and allowed back into the island populace.

One thin, tiny silver lining. Their injuries had been given a chance to mend while they'd slept away the last month and some change. What ever resulting pain had had a chance to fade into next to nothing.

((Because I love aftermath and infirmary RPs))

Need a light

Hours after Ever woke, all he could think about one thing: nicotine.

In quarantine, he didn't have access to his things, the stockpile in his room nor the pack which had been stored in the pocket of his pants -- and, even if he did, it wasn't like he could get to it. His ankle was still so swollen he could barely walk, his head still tender, his mouth still dry.

Still. The first time he saw someone, he asked nicely, politely, and was just as politely turned down. The second time was a bit less gentle, instead turning to a demand: he had rights, after all, and he had the belongings. After that, it was everything else he could imagine. Pleading, begging, bargaining, threatening.

He just wanted a damned cigarette.

New Marks

"They match." Ever's voice held a note somewhere between humor and horror as he stared at the mark on his collar bone, shirt collar pulled open wide so that it was almost off his bony shoulder. Being in quarantine had, actually helped him put on some weight, the constant monitoring of his intake driving him back into a routine of eating exactly so much at set times. The fact that it was in shake form didn't hurt, either. But he was still lean, would always be lean, skin and muscle pulled taught over the framework that was his skeleton.

Here, that skin was marred with a mark like fluttering wings over his collarbone, warped by the bone beneath. It wasn't clear what kind of insect it had been, but was clear as a day a bug --

And it lined up almost exactly with the one on Zeke's shoulder.

New marks

"Do they?" Zeke hadn't seen the marks on his back, that required a level of mobility still a bit outside his ability. Bending hurt, craning his neck hurt, moving his arms too much hurt.

Everything ******** hurt.

Pale eyes lifted from his phone, training on the other man as he peered down at the new scars that decorated his collarbone. Then he was reaching out to circle one of Ever's wrists so he could pull him in closer. Or at last attempt to. "Let me see."

Good morning ******** probably," Paige hissed, the edge in her voice softened only by the realization that he was alive, and she was alive, and they were all alive - and while her first concern had been Cee, Zeke was a very, very, very close ******** second.

"I ******** hate being in bed," she whined, fussing with her blankets as she made an attempt to swing her legs around. Everything hurt, and Harle was as concerned as he always was -- but Paige was determined to check Zeke out just to make sure he was okay and alive and really really ******** breathing.

Beejoux

Relieving the monotony

It seemed as though Zeke's plea had actually been heeded. A day after his complaining of boredom on twitter a care package had arrived for them. Inside was Ever's laptop, a stack of Us weekly, A familiar looking copy of The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

There was no cigarettes, though Zeke hadn't been holding his breath for those. Smoking the the infirmary was frowned upon. Smoking in the clean room they were currently stuck in was probably even more so frowned upon.

Either way, some comforts that could provide a measure of relief from the enduring boredom that had been their existence over the past few days.

At first that had been enough. It had been enough to be breathing, to be alive. It was enough that they had all made it back.

That was still important, but the novelty of that had dimmed after a few hours. After any conversation regarding what they had been through had tapered out. Zeke didn't really want to talk about it, so he hadn't contributed much.

And many more

Ever had been sorting through runes, sprawled out with his foot carefully raised above his heart -- to his constant annoyance -- and a handful of papers on his chest. Now he blinked up at Zeke, expression blank like he didn't understand what the other man had said, before it clicked into place.

"Ah. Happy birthday?" He had to check the date himself, pause, and remember when his own was. Long past. Ever made a very faint sound. "How many? Do I want to ask?"

And many more

"I hope not." It was distracted, distant, without really thinking -- and then Ever paused, blinking up at Zeke as he realized it was a genuine question. He made a faint sound, in an attempt to turn that into a joke somehow. He waved a pen almost absently at Zeke.

"Er. You can get something when we get out, maybe." But Ever, at least, was considering if he could only eat protein shakes, forever.