He remained silent save for the odd groan of pain as he watched, albeit rather disorientedly, Apollo wander about. He was still quite dazed from the impact, and though he luckily hadn’t suffered from anything too permanent or damaging, the pain was still nothing to scoff at. Even Solis, with his already impossible levels of pain tolerance, would be in bed for a few days at the very least. Of course, he would heartily accept bed rest so as long as it meant not having to go to the infirmary wing.
His almost clinical cataloguing of his injuries was halted as Apollo spoke for the first time after the incident. The small part of Solis that wasn’t still recoiling from the force of the created sound noted the surprisingly genuine concern. How in the world could this male still feel concern for him, Solis, when he had done nothing but torment the innocent pianist? Sure, he hadn’t been in his right mind, his demons having escaped the ironclad control he usually had over them, but that still wasn’t much of an excuse. He wasn’t even sure Apollo knew that he wasn’t usually that aggressive, or that he never usually initiated contact with an unknown variable. He was normally all about staying unnoticed in the background, quietly gathering information but rarely, if ever, starting things himself.
He began the motion to shake his head in order to clear his hazy mind, but thought better of it once a wave of dizziness hit him at the second he moved too quickly. Then, he wondered if the touch to his head had been imagined, but then Apollo’s form was beside him, slender fingers doing their own search for injuries. He did flinch a bit, letting out a hiss of pain as the pianist’s hands ghosted over a sore spot on his head, but otherwise showed no sign of serious damage. He was, naturally, disoriented and still quite out of it, but there wasn’t anything life or death about it. The very real pain also helped him realize, slowly but surely, that the male before him was actually Apollo and not just a hallucination of his own.
It was a testament to how much the incident had muddled him, however, that he did very little in reaction to Apollo’s oddly focused touches. His disordered thoughts were all over the place, mainly stuck on the shame of his loss of control, musings over what the pianist experienced, and his own injuries. The part of his mind that was still up and running, as small as it was, simply figured it was a part of the other male’s concerned search for injuries on the fear empath.
As such, it took him several long, silent moments to register Apollo’s gasp and rather frightened words. It took him several more moments to string together a proper answer, and even then his quiet words were a bit stilted and distant, as if he had just woken up and was still half-asleep. “Dun know wha’ yer talkin’ about.†It was a far cry from his usually over-the-top polite manner and proper speech.
He absentmindedly wondered if Apollo himself hadn’t been injured by his own power. The male certainly was acting a bit odd, and that wasn’t even including the compassion he seemed to feel for someone that had basically tortured him for no other reason than entertainment from the new kid.
Then again, what little of his brain was functional argued, he had touched the other male’s forehead, albeit extremely lightly. Maybe whatever hallucinations Apollo had experienced really had left an effect on the pianist. Apollo’s odd behavior would then be perfectly expected, since Solis figured his power hadn’t been exerted to its normal full extent. Eventually, he let out a pitiful moan of pain as his thoughts began making circles in his mind, the effort giving him a massive headache that did very little to distract him from the other aches and pains in his body, particularly his back. This time, he finally gave in to the urge to curl up into a little ball where he lay, heedless of Apollo’s nearly panicking form just a few feet away, groaning in pain yet again as the movement aggravated his back. Maybe if he ignored the distraught male, the pianist would leave him in peace. At least then, he could pick up his pride and hobble back to his dorm after insuring his insanity wouldn’t take over again.
His almost clinical cataloguing of his injuries was halted as Apollo spoke for the first time after the incident. The small part of Solis that wasn’t still recoiling from the force of the created sound noted the surprisingly genuine concern. How in the world could this male still feel concern for him, Solis, when he had done nothing but torment the innocent pianist? Sure, he hadn’t been in his right mind, his demons having escaped the ironclad control he usually had over them, but that still wasn’t much of an excuse. He wasn’t even sure Apollo knew that he wasn’t usually that aggressive, or that he never usually initiated contact with an unknown variable. He was normally all about staying unnoticed in the background, quietly gathering information but rarely, if ever, starting things himself.
He began the motion to shake his head in order to clear his hazy mind, but thought better of it once a wave of dizziness hit him at the second he moved too quickly. Then, he wondered if the touch to his head had been imagined, but then Apollo’s form was beside him, slender fingers doing their own search for injuries. He did flinch a bit, letting out a hiss of pain as the pianist’s hands ghosted over a sore spot on his head, but otherwise showed no sign of serious damage. He was, naturally, disoriented and still quite out of it, but there wasn’t anything life or death about it. The very real pain also helped him realize, slowly but surely, that the male before him was actually Apollo and not just a hallucination of his own.
It was a testament to how much the incident had muddled him, however, that he did very little in reaction to Apollo’s oddly focused touches. His disordered thoughts were all over the place, mainly stuck on the shame of his loss of control, musings over what the pianist experienced, and his own injuries. The part of his mind that was still up and running, as small as it was, simply figured it was a part of the other male’s concerned search for injuries on the fear empath.
As such, it took him several long, silent moments to register Apollo’s gasp and rather frightened words. It took him several more moments to string together a proper answer, and even then his quiet words were a bit stilted and distant, as if he had just woken up and was still half-asleep. “Dun know wha’ yer talkin’ about.†It was a far cry from his usually over-the-top polite manner and proper speech.
He absentmindedly wondered if Apollo himself hadn’t been injured by his own power. The male certainly was acting a bit odd, and that wasn’t even including the compassion he seemed to feel for someone that had basically tortured him for no other reason than entertainment from the new kid.
Then again, what little of his brain was functional argued, he had touched the other male’s forehead, albeit extremely lightly. Maybe whatever hallucinations Apollo had experienced really had left an effect on the pianist. Apollo’s odd behavior would then be perfectly expected, since Solis figured his power hadn’t been exerted to its normal full extent. Eventually, he let out a pitiful moan of pain as his thoughts began making circles in his mind, the effort giving him a massive headache that did very little to distract him from the other aches and pains in his body, particularly his back. This time, he finally gave in to the urge to curl up into a little ball where he lay, heedless of Apollo’s nearly panicking form just a few feet away, groaning in pain yet again as the movement aggravated his back. Maybe if he ignored the distraught male, the pianist would leave him in peace. At least then, he could pick up his pride and hobble back to his dorm after insuring his insanity wouldn’t take over again.