It had been a week since the Shattered Elysium's crash, and the hospital was still in shambles. The once-sterile floors were littered with debris and bloodstains, and the air was heavy with the smell of burnt metal and smoke. The sound of medical equipment beeping and whirring filled the air, mixed with the soft whispers of nurses and doctors who moved around the room.
Vaerin lay in his bed, still unconscious, his chest rising and falling with the help of a respirator. His wounds had been treated, but the damage had been severe, and the doctors were unsure if he would ever wake up again. Despite the state of him, Sylris was the only one outside of the doctors to slip in, resting a firm hand on the Knight’s shoulder and studying him intently.
“You wake up, Vaerin. You don’t get to die yet.” The Crusader whispered, golden eyes narrowing a bit.
The hospital staff had been working around the clock since the crash, doing their best to care for the injured and treat the sick. Some of them had been injured themselves in the chaos, but they had soldiered on, driven by their dedication to their patients.
(TW: Injury, bloodstains, medical supplies.)
The crash had been a disaster of unprecedented proportions, and the hospital had been overwhelmed by the number of injured. It had taken several days for other hospitals in the area to get up and running again, and in the meantime, this hospital had been the only one available for miles around. The staff had done their best, but they had been stretched thin, and the patients had suffered for it.
In the aftermath of the crash, the hospital had become a makeshift command center, with military personnel and emergency services personnel coming and going at all hours of the day and night. There had been press conferences and briefings, and the hospital staff had been called on to provide updates on the injured and to give details about the crash.
Now, seven days later, the hospital was finally starting to return to normal. The debris had been cleared away, and the bloodstains had been scrubbed clean. The staff had a chance to catch their breath, and the patients were starting to be discharged. The ventilator was removed from Vaerin, the doctors optimistic his body no longer required the assistance.
On the eighth day, things within the hospital had continued to return to normal. Vaerin's eyes shot open as he suddenly returned to consciousness, a sharp inhale followed by violent coughing. The room was sterile and cold, with the pungent smell of disinfectant overwhelming his senses. Blinking rapidly, he tried to sit up, but the sharp pain that ripped through his side caused him to gasp in agony.
"Don't move, Vaerin," a gentle voice said from beside him, and he turned his head to see Paithien Runeara, one of the healers from The Order, standing over him. "You've been through a lot. Just rest for now." She added, lifting a glass of water to the Knight’s lips.
Vaerin drank greedily, as if he’d been left in the desert for days, before he looked down at himself and saw that his chest was tightly wrapped in bandages, and his left wrist was heavily bandaged as well. He winced as he shifted slightly, feeling the pain shoot through his body. "What happened?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse and strained.
The Priestess sighed heavily, her expression somber. "Your airship went down over Tanaris," she said. "The Order retrieved you, but you were badly injured. You have three broken ribs, a concussion, a punctured lung, and a large gash in your wrist from a piece of jagged pipe that you were impaled on."
Vaerin's mind raced as he tried to remember what had happened. He had been on a mission for The Order, investigating reports of a... He paused, eyebrows furrowing. He remembered the chaos and the fear, the sound of metal tearing and the smell of smoke and blood, but not why he was there in the first place.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to will the memories back. After a moment, he opened his eyes again, looking up at the Priestess. "What now?" he questioned.
"Now, you rest and heal," Paith said firmly. "You're lucky to be alive, Vaerin. You need time to recover."
Vaerin nodded, feeling the exhaustion wash over him. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting as he tried to find some measure of peace. His body slumped back into the hospital bed, head falling to the side as he lapsed back into sleep.
The Priestess straightened up, brushing Vaerin’s hair back from his face and making her way to a table, picking up a communicator and speaking into it.
“Admiral, Vaerin woke up. If you could reach out to Warden Silverflame-Bloodhawk, Commander Ashfeather and Wing Commander Ith’valin to inform them, I’m sure they’d be appreciative.” She requests, before setting the device down and slipping from the room.
( @heartpiercer, @thesilvercrusader @thestarsfury for brief mentions.)
soooo i’ve been thinking of what my quirk would be if I was in mha
and i think I figured it out
“you wouldn’t like me when i’m angry...”
so I’m pretty meek by nature.. idk how me n baku ended up together but that’s besides the point.
but with me being so shy and timid, I avoid conflict. that is until i’m angered enough.
so i imagine that my quirk is similar to the hulk (if you dont know who the hulk is, you’re blocked cause you’re obviously too young to be here)
as i’m angered, my physical strength is increased, I grow in size and i’m almost impossible to reason with until I do harm to whoever angered me.
its useful in combat with villains because most of them in general piss me off (especially chisaki.. no i dont care that he’s hot)
I have enough control to shrink back down to normal size, but my clothes always rip off my body and that’s super embarrassing help-
my eyes glow red on the whites of them, very similar to persephone from lore olympus.
think of me as a titan; just not monstrous and ugly but ridiculously strong and powerful.
my weaknesses are:
bakugo (i love him so much he’s distracting; the thought of hurting him or worse deactivates my quirk especially when he speaks to me.. i’m like a puppy dkskjd)
cold climates slow my movements; i’m not match for todoroki’s ice. he kicked my ass once and he’s probably the only person to take me down
my own quirk drains my energy so much that once I shrink back to normal i’m in a coma for days to replenish. weak..
i can only use my quirk when I’m genuinely pissed off. annoyance isn’t enough. I’ll just punch you.
My strengths are:
Strength duh. I could knock over a skyscraper just ‘cause I felt like it.
Speed: but only if I eat certain foods. Bakugo force feeds me veggies to help with my speed even though I fucking hate them.
Rage: an ability I mastered. If I’m angry enough I can scream so loud it bursts eardrums and immobilize my opponents
imagine me as a toddler lmao ...
Bakugo doubles as a strength and a weakness. Story time: Bakugo was in grave danger. He took on one too many villains and was cornered. He took a blow to the head and was knocked unconscious. I was furious; more so worried and scared he was dead. So I killed every villain in sight, crushing them with my bare hands. After that I was hospitalized, my quirk lasting longer than it should have because I just couldn’t calm down. I destroyed an entire city in my blind rampage. I don’t even remember what stopped me.
I retired when we got married because honestly my quirk scares me. Even though I’m a full grown adult and a UA alumni, I’m the only graduate that still doesn’t have full control of their quirk. I could really hurt someone as well as myself. So I decided it’d be best to retire... but once and a while I do go out on secret missions.
Addiction isn't pretty and it's only going to get worse for Julian since he's relapsed on the vampire blood.
The heavier material will more than likely stay in private posts on his vent blog but on here their will be subtle mentions, but if anything oversteps a line or if anyone needs something tagged please let me know.
Upon what balance is a life to be weighed? Does the good outweigh the bad? Does the bad outweigh the good?
Upon what scale do the gods judge a soul’s worth? Do they see the scars? Do they understand the intent behind a foolish mistake?
Upon what measure is forgiveness granted so a life can float easy upon the River to rest and return once more?
Upon what spectrum is punishment dealt out to sink a soul to the depths of the flow, struggling to simply exist with no hope of seeing life again?
Staring up at the nighttime sky, Aya had no answers, no hope, no motivation to do more than breathe. The weight settled on his chest as if he’d already been judged while breathing and sentenced to the frigid, unforgiving depths. So cold, so still, to reach for the next inhale, sink into the slow exhale was all he could manage.
Soooo because the climax of the plot is coming, interactions anyone wants with Canon Mich BEFORE she goes to hell, dm me or send them in soon if you want. After she gets back from hell, if you wanted interactions prior, we can plot that it happened before she left. But it has to be specified. Otherwise, stay tuned.
"Too long have I watched all of you little pests run around the world like a chicken with your heads cut off. Too long have I been here witnessing the regression of those elder to me as they allow the world to fall into madness. You create beings to do your own jobs and they, in turn, make more till there is a chain of arrogant children running the place. I refuse to be a cog in this mechanism any longer. I look forward to watching as you all slowly spiral into your own egotistical little worlds and start to slaughter each other one by one. I will be watching on the side lines in pleasure for I have realized what my part is in this little play. It is almost cruel really. Heh, The gods here truly are some pieces of work. So then farewell, because you will not be seeing me on this plane again."
