You do just that, but it feels more like coming out of a coma. You claw yourself out of your recuperacoon. There is a long moment of silence before you realize that you actually just had to claw your way out. You had been completely submerged inside of the structure for the first time in your life. The organic basin itself had swollen to a massive size, enough to actually accommodate your horns within it. Aside from the swelling, there is another strange translucent liquid mixed in with the sopor. The sight of it all makes you a bit nauseous.
As you attempt to pull yourself from the deformed tub, you strain to remember what happened. The last thing you recall was standing up inside your coon to go plug your phone in, followed by feeling light headed. Then, just nothing. You are weak and hungry, and attempting to remember anything is currently taking a back seat to figuring out how to get up. It is strange, actually, how difficult it is to climb out. You feel so weak and you almost can't force yourself to stand.
You do manage to peak your head over the edge of the coon, eventually, squinting over to the nearest digital clock. Oh good, it was night time at least. You could get cleaned up and figure out what the hell even happened here. Before that comforts you though, you notice the date.
"What?..." Three days. You had been asleep for three days. That explains the weakness. If you had been sleeping for three days your muscles would have begun to atrophy, not just weakness from prolonged food and water deprivation. You do eventually manage to pull yourself from the coon, sliding down the side to rest on the floor a minute and think over how you currently feel.
Well, you feel gross, sick, and that date is scaring you to death. You need answers now, right now. You turn, grabbing the side of the coon to help yourself stand again, but you feel something thin and veiny brush along your back. It sends a shudder up and down your spine, and you swat at it.
"Oh god." Bad idea. Your hands touch something wet and leathery clinging to your back, and you almost get sick right there. You do not even want to see whatever is stuck to your back right now. Your mind goes to that translucent liquid probably congealed on your skin. Showering first is probably the best idea, then you could look for answers.
You promptly walk to the bathroom, keeping a hand steady on the wall all the way. Once you were inside that shower you could just sit down and let the water run over you while you try to remember. You never make it, however, as you stop in front of your full body mirror just inside the bathroom. You look at the mirror confused, noticing that the translucent liquid does indeed seem to be clinging to your back, all the way down your legs. It looks repulsive and veiny and you just want it off of you right now. But that gross out panic is stopped when you notice something more disturbing.
You are bleeding. At least, you think you are bleeding. Your brown blood seems to be seeping out of an area on your upper back, traveling down those veins on the translucent surface. You must have gotten cut sometime in your sleep or something. Maybe that is what knocked you out. Your theories stop the moment the blood flow stops at the bottom of the partially solidified translucent structure as it starts to peel. It starts at you legs, popping off and snapping up.
You are pretty sure that everyone on your floor could hear you scream. You grab the corner of your sink to steady yourself as four insect wing-like appendages snap up from your back. They stiffen, beginning to vibrate the excess liquid from their surface. You bring your other hand up to muffle your screaming and heavy breathing, staring at the wings wide eyed. Your breath quickens and shallows as the wings emit a low hum to their vibrating rhythm. What happens after could be described as a panic attack lasting the time a pupating insect needs to dry their newly formed wings off.
Your name is Tavros Nitram and today you have discovered that you are a mutant. A doomed, outcasted, winged mutant.
