They left the lights on.
Loch was not happy about that. His head was throbbing almost as badly as his arm, which had been turned into a pincushion by the nurses who said they were human but had Loch secretly convinced that they were vampires.
He was sprawled onto his side in room 513 with his back to the door, in the wing for screwed-up-rejects like himself. Only they where doing physicals in the hallway right outside his room. He thought it was poor planning until he heard that the other wing was undergoing renovations, so they shipped the poor new kids here with the head-cases.
They kept his door open and wouldn't turn off the light.
An IV was fed into his arm, held in place by the kind of medical tape that would leave glue across his arm for the next week and a half even if he scrubbed all his skin off. Something like a nicotine patch was plastered against his arm. A bag of ice rested between his legs. At least they didn't make him wear one of those stupid gowns. Instead, he was in an old pair of black sweatpants and a t-shirt that was just a little too small.
He felt like hell.
They found him on the beach after the storm, bruised, naked, and covered in blood. His necklace was missing. He had the feeling that if he where a women, they might have had an entirely different kind of investigation. Instead, they carted him off to the hospital, ignoring his protests because his birth-date wasn't on record and he couldn't prove that he wasn't a minor. He didn't even know if he was.
They took one look at his chart and sedated him. He'd have to wear the patch until the found his necklace. Later, when someone--he guessed it was the doctor--came into the room, they told him he was malnourished.
But he couldn't be. The blood wasn't his.
The wind was howling outside and Lochlann watched the branches on the trees shake back and forth with the kind of bliss only someone on horse tranquilizers could.
At least until the doctor doing the physicals outside spoke to the students:
"Can I have you step into this room quick? We've got to transport some patients for the renovations, and I'd like if we could respect their privacy. I'll shut the door when you're all in."
Loch didn't realize they were talking about his room.
((OOC: Okay. I tried to give everyone a tie in at the end here, but if you need more of a lead, let me know!))
Loch was not happy about that. His head was throbbing almost as badly as his arm, which had been turned into a pincushion by the nurses who said they were human but had Loch secretly convinced that they were vampires.
He was sprawled onto his side in room 513 with his back to the door, in the wing for screwed-up-rejects like himself. Only they where doing physicals in the hallway right outside his room. He thought it was poor planning until he heard that the other wing was undergoing renovations, so they shipped the poor new kids here with the head-cases.
They kept his door open and wouldn't turn off the light.
An IV was fed into his arm, held in place by the kind of medical tape that would leave glue across his arm for the next week and a half even if he scrubbed all his skin off. Something like a nicotine patch was plastered against his arm. A bag of ice rested between his legs. At least they didn't make him wear one of those stupid gowns. Instead, he was in an old pair of black sweatpants and a t-shirt that was just a little too small.
He felt like hell.
They found him on the beach after the storm, bruised, naked, and covered in blood. His necklace was missing. He had the feeling that if he where a women, they might have had an entirely different kind of investigation. Instead, they carted him off to the hospital, ignoring his protests because his birth-date wasn't on record and he couldn't prove that he wasn't a minor. He didn't even know if he was.
They took one look at his chart and sedated him. He'd have to wear the patch until the found his necklace. Later, when someone--he guessed it was the doctor--came into the room, they told him he was malnourished.
But he couldn't be. The blood wasn't his.
The wind was howling outside and Lochlann watched the branches on the trees shake back and forth with the kind of bliss only someone on horse tranquilizers could.
At least until the doctor doing the physicals outside spoke to the students:
"Can I have you step into this room quick? We've got to transport some patients for the renovations, and I'd like if we could respect their privacy. I'll shut the door when you're all in."
Loch didn't realize they were talking about his room.
((OOC: Okay. I tried to give everyone a tie in at the end here, but if you need more of a lead, let me know!))