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Post by Mister Steel on Sept 6, 2024 13:27:01 GMT -5
East City Medical Center
1:30 PM
The repetitive, slow beeping of the heart monitor fought with the up-and-down hissing of the respirator to fill the silence of the little, private room in the hospital. They were the only two noises in the otherwise-silent chamber. Despite the presence of three people that could talk, including the patient on the bed... nobody spoke. There was a TV hanging on one wall of the room, but the screen was black. The remote for it was lying on the little side table attached to the hospital bed, untouched and unmoving. The hospital's easy-listening music tracks, meant to help ease the anxiety and tension that ran through everyone with medical problems, were muffled and inaudible through the thick door.
Eventually, one of the three people inside spoke. A green, egg-shaped little alien wearing his people's version of a tacky suit...
"Steel, buddy, I know you want one last hurrah, but your treatment ain't done yet. You need to focus on getting better!"
Donût, aka the Unbreakable Mister Steel, looked to HumDee from behind his shades. Despite the sheer weight of tubes covering and snaking over his body, filtering and pumping and helping him breathe, he smiled. A confident, but weary, grin.
"Aw, c'mon, HumDee. I ain't gettin' better, not really. You know that."
HumDee began to squint his beady little eyes and cry. Those tears might have been from genuine grief at losing a friend or from the sheer loss of cash he would face if Steel died.
"But if you do this tournament, you'll go faste-"
Steel slammed his fist on the metal guardrail, interrupting HumDee. The metal shrieked as it bent under his fist.
"Don't you think I know that?! But I'll be damned if I-"
There was a knock at the door. A nurse poked his head in, whispering through the thin mask he had to wear.
"Mister Steel? There's a visitor for you."
Donût nodded and opened his mouth to speak, only to find himself hacking and coughing and horking up something. He reached for a tissue, and spat out a glob of what looked like black snot...
"*Hurff, huff*... Send them in. Send 'em in..."
1:30 PM
The repetitive, slow beeping of the heart monitor fought with the up-and-down hissing of the respirator to fill the silence of the little, private room in the hospital. They were the only two noises in the otherwise-silent chamber. Despite the presence of three people that could talk, including the patient on the bed... nobody spoke. There was a TV hanging on one wall of the room, but the screen was black. The remote for it was lying on the little side table attached to the hospital bed, untouched and unmoving. The hospital's easy-listening music tracks, meant to help ease the anxiety and tension that ran through everyone with medical problems, were muffled and inaudible through the thick door.
Eventually, one of the three people inside spoke. A green, egg-shaped little alien wearing his people's version of a tacky suit...
"Steel, buddy, I know you want one last hurrah, but your treatment ain't done yet. You need to focus on getting better!"
Donût, aka the Unbreakable Mister Steel, looked to HumDee from behind his shades. Despite the sheer weight of tubes covering and snaking over his body, filtering and pumping and helping him breathe, he smiled. A confident, but weary, grin.
"Aw, c'mon, HumDee. I ain't gettin' better, not really. You know that."
HumDee began to squint his beady little eyes and cry. Those tears might have been from genuine grief at losing a friend or from the sheer loss of cash he would face if Steel died.
"But if you do this tournament, you'll go faste-"
Steel slammed his fist on the metal guardrail, interrupting HumDee. The metal shrieked as it bent under his fist.
"Don't you think I know that?! But I'll be damned if I-"
There was a knock at the door. A nurse poked his head in, whispering through the thin mask he had to wear.
"Mister Steel? There's a visitor for you."
Donût nodded and opened his mouth to speak, only to find himself hacking and coughing and horking up something. He reached for a tissue, and spat out a glob of what looked like black snot...
"*Hurff, huff*... Send them in. Send 'em in..."
Steel has entered the thread!
PL: 96,000, set to "100" via power-setting (thanks to illness).
WC: 368
PL: 96,000, set to "100" via power-setting (thanks to illness).
WC: 368
