Once again, Florence was on edge. Refined? He didn't lke the sound of that. You refined oil, you refined metal; people weren't things to refine. While couldn't bring the words to ask the doctor about it, his look of doubt and worry said more than he could.
Could he describe it? That was a good question. It felt like everything at once was going off. Some things were more intense than others; the feeling of his mind exploding was more prominent than the burning. Florence wanted to say everything but he couldn't form the words right, and instead kept stuttering over the ending of it.
Florence buried his face in his hands, trying to calm down and clear his mind up. Now he had to get creative. How could he describe this? He took a moment to think on it, before picking himself back up and looking at Jace.
He took his hands and made a circle motion with them, paused, balled his hands together and brought them outward away from each other, spreading his palms as he did so. He looked frustrated as he couldn't describe everything he was feeling, but was hoping he got something across.
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Filled by the planet's legendary ice caps, the lake was one of his favorite places. Even Xerin sometimes became too hot for him, and the cold temperatures of the water helped him. Seeing various flying creatures take off as the intercom came to life, Minan sighed, hoping in vain the message wouldn't include him and that he would have some more time to rest. Hearing the voice of the Granjudge, he decided not to push his luck, getting out of the lake and making his way towards the Grand Hall. On his way, he saw Afua, and decided to catch up to her. "Hello, Ms. Domeka." He greeted her, odd accent accentuating her name.
I think its neat that minan can't stand hot temperatures and nalia cant stand the cold :>
Appearance:
Full Name: Minan Taukir
Callsign/Nickname: Lieutenant Taukir/Potentate Minan Taukir of Neptune (more official, rarely if ever used on base)
Age: 1,804 (around 11 years on Earth)
Status: Second Lieutenant
Desired arms (weapon): A lance is his main choice, but will choose advanced technology if needed for a situation.
Biography: An immigrant from Neptune to Ian, Minan comes from royalty. He travels all the time as he's being primed for his position as his home's foreign ambassador. While on Ian, seeing as he had a lot of time to waste, he decided it best to join the Taros Interstellar Alliance.
Personality: Minan is a loud, friendly individual, always curious of his surroundings and the beings in them. He's charismatic and flirty, a trait he's often been reprimanded for in the past by his superiors. When insulted, his demeanor changes into an arrogant, passive aggressive individual. He's very professional when it comes to work and is very efficient, but he hates keeping up the professional attitude for so long.
Other: While he can maneuver perfectly fine on land, he performs best when in water or a slush. While his romanized name is Minan, his original name is expressed by the feeling of heat on skin. His species' skin is thick, so it takes a deeper wound for him to bleed.
Full Name: Minan Taukir
Callsign/Nickname: Lieutenant Taukir/Potentate Minan Taukir of Neptune (more official, rarely if ever used on base)
Age: 1,804 (around 11 years on Earth)
Status: Second Lieutenant
Desired arms (weapon): A lance is his main choice, but will choose advanced technology if needed for a situation.
Biography: An immigrant from Neptune to Ian, Minan comes from royalty. He travels all the time as he's being primed for his position as his home's foreign ambassador. While on Ian, seeing as he had a lot of time to waste, he decided it best to join the Taros Interstellar Alliance.
Personality: Minan is a loud, friendly individual, always curious of his surroundings and the beings in them. He's charismatic and flirty, a trait he's often been reprimanded for in the past by his superiors. When insulted, his demeanor changes into an arrogant, passive aggressive individual. He's very professional when it comes to work and is very efficient, but he hates keeping up the professional attitude for so long.
Other: While he can maneuver perfectly fine on land, he performs best when in water or a slush. While his romanized name is Minan, his original name is expressed by the feeling of heat on skin. His species' skin is thick, so it takes a deeper wound for him to bleed.
Florence slowly nodded, trying not to make his head worse. He didn't look as tense as he had been a moment before and didn't have to squint. With the lights off, Schwarzlicht's face was visible, the lighting's glare on his visor gone. Being able to see their face made him more open to the idea of talking to them.
He didn't move as the doctor moved closer to him, weary eyes watching every aspect of the man. The noise the suit made was so foreign to the scurrying footsteps of nurses he was used to, and he knew it would take awhile to get used to it. Security measures, huh? He had seen his fair share of weird security measures before, but this was new. What was going on in this hospital that required full protection? He decided to not question it further, simply agreeing with the doctor. As long as it kept people safe there really wasn't a reason to argue about it.
Florence noticed that he wasn't nearly as anxious about the man as he usually was when meeting new people, especially when they got this close. While it was a strange feeling, it was a light feeling, a nice feeling; it almost came close to making up for his migraine.
It took a moment for Florence to catch up and understand that the man wanted him to get up and took the help. The rubber of the hazmat suit was a texture that almost disgusted him.
He couldn't go far because of the IV drip in his arm, and he wasn't about to rip it out. He knew that was a bad idea from past experiences. He took his attention off of it and back to Jace, "Yes." He had never had a nickname before, but he didn't mind Flo.
Florence hesitated for a moment, slouching figure shifting uncomfortably. "...Did I...?" He hesitated again, although he was surprised with himself for managing to get that much out. Making the representation of a gun with his free hand motioning to his head.
He didn't move as the doctor moved closer to him, weary eyes watching every aspect of the man. The noise the suit made was so foreign to the scurrying footsteps of nurses he was used to, and he knew it would take awhile to get used to it. Security measures, huh? He had seen his fair share of weird security measures before, but this was new. What was going on in this hospital that required full protection? He decided to not question it further, simply agreeing with the doctor. As long as it kept people safe there really wasn't a reason to argue about it.
Florence noticed that he wasn't nearly as anxious about the man as he usually was when meeting new people, especially when they got this close. While it was a strange feeling, it was a light feeling, a nice feeling; it almost came close to making up for his migraine.
It took a moment for Florence to catch up and understand that the man wanted him to get up and took the help. The rubber of the hazmat suit was a texture that almost disgusted him.
He couldn't go far because of the IV drip in his arm, and he wasn't about to rip it out. He knew that was a bad idea from past experiences. He took his attention off of it and back to Jace, "Yes." He had never had a nickname before, but he didn't mind Flo.
Florence hesitated for a moment, slouching figure shifting uncomfortably. "...Did I...?" He hesitated again, although he was surprised with himself for managing to get that much out. Making the representation of a gun with his free hand motioning to his head.
"Let's go. So you're thinking a van?" Florence asked, walking to catch up with Roxy.
The new sound of clunky footsteps coming closer caught Florence's attention, and he brought himself to deal with the burning of the florescent lighting and the pounding migraine to sit up. It looked like the door to his room was opening, but was there more than one door? It was hard to see, but from the sound of it there was at least two. He was trying to see this as the figure came into his room.
Why were they wearing a hazmat suit? He had never seen a doctor, or nurse, linger near the door like they were doing now. These things were worrying him, though he noticed it was only a slight concern. As odd as that was, he wasn't going to complain about it. He assumed it was probably the morphine. Florence stared at the man, now Mr. Schwarzlicht, for a moment as he tried to collect all of his thoughts. It wasn't often he found people that used last names, but supposed the man wanted to remain their professionalism. He had never been fond of doctors and was trying to form first impressions about this one, although the man's attire combined with Florence's own situation made it difficult. A million questions ran through his head all at one time and he was hoping he could get all the answers soon. With previous experiences in hospitals, he knew those things didn't always come easy, but he could hope.
"Olleh..." Florence sounded like he had more to say but he instead trailed off ans shook his head. "...Hello." The word was small but even it sounded forced out, as if he had to concentrate heavily just to say it. "Gniraew uoy er..." He tried to fix the sentence he started but instead found it easier to run his hand in front of his face, trying to question about the man's hazmat suit. His migraine was too bad to even try to speak full sentences to the doctor. Of course, it was only one of many questions, but right now it was the easiest to sign for him. Did it make any sense? Most likely not, but he hoped the man would pick up on it. After all, doctors didn't normally come into rooms in hazmat suits unless something was seriously wrong.
Why were they wearing a hazmat suit? He had never seen a doctor, or nurse, linger near the door like they were doing now. These things were worrying him, though he noticed it was only a slight concern. As odd as that was, he wasn't going to complain about it. He assumed it was probably the morphine. Florence stared at the man, now Mr. Schwarzlicht, for a moment as he tried to collect all of his thoughts. It wasn't often he found people that used last names, but supposed the man wanted to remain their professionalism. He had never been fond of doctors and was trying to form first impressions about this one, although the man's attire combined with Florence's own situation made it difficult. A million questions ran through his head all at one time and he was hoping he could get all the answers soon. With previous experiences in hospitals, he knew those things didn't always come easy, but he could hope.
"Olleh..." Florence sounded like he had more to say but he instead trailed off ans shook his head. "...Hello." The word was small but even it sounded forced out, as if he had to concentrate heavily just to say it. "Gniraew uoy er..." He tried to fix the sentence he started but instead found it easier to run his hand in front of his face, trying to question about the man's hazmat suit. His migraine was too bad to even try to speak full sentences to the doctor. Of course, it was only one of many questions, but right now it was the easiest to sign for him. Did it make any sense? Most likely not, but he hoped the man would pick up on it. After all, doctors didn't normally come into rooms in hazmat suits unless something was seriously wrong.
personally i'm pretty patient, so i cam be bad at judging these things, maybe until the end of the week? Or would that be too long?
sorry for the wait!
Slowly Florence woke, movements not much more than some subtle shifting. Waking felt surreal for him, and he had been awake for a few minutes realizing that he actually had woken up, mistaking the feeling for yet another dreamless dream.One by one he started to gain control of his senses; the familiarity of being in a hospital bed was the first one to come to him. He rolled over and felt something in his arm, and upon realizing what it was, he opened his eyes. While the room wasn't an unusual sight for him it wasn't one he was ecstatic to see. Had he made another attempt? Though he couldn't remember what happened, he was angry at himself for the possibility.
The morphine started to diminish, in its wake was a splitting migraine. Suddenly the man was much more active, moving around and burying his face in the pillow, looking for some relief from the burning florescent light. Florence forced himself to calm down after a minute of screaming before carefully picking his head off the pillow, needing to breathe. He rested the side of his face back onto the pillow and grabbed the back of his head, absently rubbing it as he took the time to think about his situation. Had his hair been shaven? He couldn't remember. But he couldn't think straight. His thoughts were in fragments and scrambled and everything was such a mess he figured he had really fucked up this time.
He took the effort to sit up, bringing his knees up and putting the pillow in his lap. The fluorescent lights still burned so he stared blankly at his arms, trying a simpler task of just getting what thoughts he did have organized. "Kcuf..." He mumbled, and it took him a moment to realize that something was off. He paused for a moment, "Tahw...I?" It took another moment of consideration before it suddenly hit him. His thoughts were scrambled because they were backwards. But that couldn't make any sense, could it? He had just been speaking backwards, though. He had been on a million drugs a million different times, but nothing had side effects like this. He was still slowed due to the morphine and all of this just frustrated and confused him, and he slammed back down on the bed but immediately regretting it as pain seared through his skull and he felt like he was back to stage one of waking up.
This time, Florence simply let himself agonize as he waited for someone to come in. He hoped it wouldn't take long.
The morphine started to diminish, in its wake was a splitting migraine. Suddenly the man was much more active, moving around and burying his face in the pillow, looking for some relief from the burning florescent light. Florence forced himself to calm down after a minute of screaming before carefully picking his head off the pillow, needing to breathe. He rested the side of his face back onto the pillow and grabbed the back of his head, absently rubbing it as he took the time to think about his situation. Had his hair been shaven? He couldn't remember. But he couldn't think straight. His thoughts were in fragments and scrambled and everything was such a mess he figured he had really fucked up this time.
He took the effort to sit up, bringing his knees up and putting the pillow in his lap. The fluorescent lights still burned so he stared blankly at his arms, trying a simpler task of just getting what thoughts he did have organized. "Kcuf..." He mumbled, and it took him a moment to realize that something was off. He paused for a moment, "Tahw...I?" It took another moment of consideration before it suddenly hit him. His thoughts were scrambled because they were backwards. But that couldn't make any sense, could it? He had just been speaking backwards, though. He had been on a million drugs a million different times, but nothing had side effects like this. He was still slowed due to the morphine and all of this just frustrated and confused him, and he slammed back down on the bed but immediately regretting it as pain seared through his skull and he felt like he was back to stage one of waking up.
This time, Florence simply let himself agonize as he waited for someone to come in. He hoped it wouldn't take long.
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