Wakey Wakey


aurelian1.jpg liam1.jpg rhys1.jpg

Scene Title Wakey Wakey
Synopsis Aurelian wakes Liam, who discovers how long it's actually been since his rescue from Azkaban.
Location Hospital Wing
Date 05-22-2001
Watch For Insanity, oh…and Rhys
Logger Liam

Hospital Wing Hogwarts
Wed May 22, 2001 — Wed May 22 21:55:07 2019

Here the scent of medicines becomes stronger and rows of beds make two neat lines on either side of the long room. Large windows let in light and- when appropriate- air. Aside from the occasional groan of a patient or hushed conversation of visitors, it's a quiet place for the sick and injured to be treated.

The hospital wing of Hogwarts is not a terribly unusual place to hear the sounds of someone bickering with a mediwitch about being poked or prodded - in the last span of months, it's even become normal to hear it from an adult voice, rather than a student one - but this is vicious even by those standards. Hissing and spitting like an angry alley cat, a thin and pale young man flings the vial he's just been handed against the wall to the sound of shattering glass. "I don't want your nutrient potions, I don't want your meddling and I certainly don't want your pity, Madame." Well that's… excellent English, but a terribly pronounced French accent. "Are we done here?" The poor mediwitch on staff, exasperated after what seems like it must have been a fairly spectacular argument, flings up her hands and goes to see about more willing patients, leaving this one to try and get himself into some semblance of order seated on the edge of one of the beds behind a partly-closed curtain.

Yes, it is difficult to sleep with all of…that…going on, now isn't it? Liam seems to agree with that sentiment from where he's been tucked away along one of the long row of beds. While his back was to where all that racket originated, he is not against lifting his head and peering over his shoulder, brows lifting upwards. Those there, were some very distinct eyes, their color and vibrancy the sort of thing one tends not to forget. But then they're gone as he groans softly, easing himself to a seated position at the side the bed, releasing a spill of long blond hair down his back. "Ugh," he exhales, pressing one hand to his aching head and trying to maintain his stomach contents.

Fixing the buttons that had come undone during her examination (over his strenuous objections, mind), Aurelian neatens the place where his shirt tucks into trousers and then reaches for the baggy, too-big jumper to pull on over his head. There's a sharp whipping of his head around toward the source of that sound, lip curled into something between a sneer and a snarl like he's ready to launch an attack if need be. That it's just some poor sap who looks like he's suffering a hangover, however, means that 'ugh' only gets a snort and a huff as he reaches for his wand to holster.

That poor, unfortunate mediwitch, she chooses that 'ugh' as a sign that someone needed her attention. Except, Liam didn't, and he quickly waves her off with a breif but graceful movement of one hand, "I'm fine, surely there is someone else in need of your attention…" That accent was undeniably English, but there was something about it that not only has the mediwitch leaving but with her feathers considerably less ruffled than they were before, "…but before you go…would you mind terribly telling me where my clothes have wandered off to?" There's a sigh from him when he's told that they were disposed of when he'd come in, beyond repair, is how she puts it. "Nothing to be done. Thank you." A fleeting smile of gratitude is all it takes to makes the poor women fluster, cheeks aflame before she putters off to do something other than be around, all of that. Not good for the heart. The huffing and puffing back there? It warrants attention clearly, as once again Liam turns those eyes upon the man behind the curtain, quirking a brow.

Those eyes are met with bright, vivid silver - there is a moment when it looks like they flash to crimson, though it's silver again too quick to be sure - lit with the kind of sharp and vicious anger that is most often seen from wild things caught in a trap of some kind. Aurelian's lip curls again, this time into an expression more snarl than sneer, and there is venom in his low, hissing voice when he makes his singular demand. "What are you looking at?"

Ashen lashes lower, Liam's own vibrant aqua-hued gaze remaining that way in the face of such wild rage, if only because color changing just wasn't in the genetic cards for him. Alas. "Clearly," he says, touching a few fingers to his brow with a wince that says he needed a moment for the next wave of nausea to pass, "Someone who would rather be anywhere than where he is." The pitch and tone of his voice was the epitome of calm, possessing a quality that was as good as anything that might soothe the most savage of beasts, "To which I can relate." Slipping from the side of the bed to the floor, the cold awaiting his bare feet sends a shock wave up Liam's bruised and battered body, pulling from him a sharp hiss that he tries to quiet. "Perhaps we can escape together, although…I seem to have misplaced my…AH!" Spotting his wand, he picks it up and releases a soft breath with the feel of it in his hand. Yes, hello old friend. A sadness fills his oddly colored eyes, gone by the time he turns and starts to hobble a bit towards the exit. "Coming?"

There's a moment where Aurelian simply stares at him, head tilted away to create the kind of suspicious side-eye one typically only finds in internet memes. "I was going anyway," he huffs, but sure enough, settles his own wand into its holster and follows along. He's not limping or hobbling, though, so it doesn't take him long to catch up and even surpass the injured man a little. "What the hell happened to you?" It's not quite sullen, but it's certainly not terribly pleasant, either.

Utterly unphased by Aurelian's prolonged attention or the suspicion that follows, Liam smiles soft and brief, "Of course," is quietly tacked on in such a way that couldn't be taken as anything other than his absolute agreement, lacking even a hint of sarcasm. Continuing with his hobbled gait, his eyes catch on the other man as he comes into view, but there is no additional hurry in his steps. Probably, because he can't. Lips are pressed into a line thin line when asked for the origin of his injuries, soft musical laughter with just dash of something 'off' tossed in there for flavor. "You ever been to Azkaban?" he asks in return, pausing just outside the door and leaning back against the doorjamb, already a bit out of breath, eyes sliding closed as he rests for a moment. "I don't recommend it."

Soft, brief smiles do nothing to gentle the wild, sharp nature of the young man who looks like he might be standing upright by sheer willpower alone. (It certainly isn't the strength of his own muscles, there are none to be seen.) The laughter - off or not - also does little to faze him, but the mention of Azkaban makes him stop dead, head tilting to stare at this man like he's just realized he's insane. "Do I look stupid to you?" Yep, there it is. Charming and tactful as always. "That was nearly a month ago." His brow furrows and he starts on again, shouldering past the other man with a sullen huff. "If you didn't want to tell me, you could have just said so."

Clutching his wand to his chest, Liam remains leaned up against the door casing, eyes slowly opening as he feels Aurelian's own lingering. A crease appears on his brow when he's asked that, confusion filtering into his once smooth features, "No, I…" As he's told the escape had been almost a whole month past, he looks as if Aurelian had tossed in a gut punch to drive home his point, "A-a month?" Liam barely even registers the bump of the other man's shoulder to his own, dazed by this newfound information. Fortunately there is a bench just there on the other side of him, because his wandless hand takes hold of it and he eases himself into it as best he can. It's still rather heavily deposited in the end, but perhaps it was meant for emphasis. "I…had no idea it'd been that long…"

"Yes, a month." Aurelian's tone is not kind (it's nowhere even remotely in the neighborhood) but at least peevish exasperation is a step down from outright venom. He stops, turning to face the man on the bench with arms folded over his chest and pale blonde fringe falling down over his eyes. "Did you work for the Ministry, then?" Seemingly apropos of nothing, the question is sullen and sharp, but not quite outright vicious. For the moment.

The reiteration causes Liam's stunned stare forward to cease, if only because those inhumanly vibrant eyes of his snap closed, an invisible slap against one still yellow tinted cheek. Unmistakable evidence of bruising yet to completely fade, there and pretty much everywhere else not covered by his hospital-bestowed robe. Stiff of frame and tense along his shoulders, it seems to take a great deal of effort for him to remind himself to breathe again, gripping his wand so tightly that it trembles against his chest. It's only for a moment though and when it passes, Liam is once more looking up and over at Aurelian where stands with his arms crossed over his chest, himself seated on the bench just to one side of the hospital wing door. "At one time, yes…" The soothing tone of his voice is notably strained, constricted with the emotion he refuses to leave unchecked, "…but not for the last few years…"

That makes Aurelian go absolutely, impossibly, eerily still. "…you - you weren't in the Ministry when you were taken?" In that moment, there is something… something small and fragile and hopeful in a way his voice doesn't seem naturally inclined to anymore. It only lasts a moment before being shoved into a box whose lid is forcefully slammed shut. "Then how the fuck did you end up in Azkaban and not dead like everyone else?" Ahhh, there's the venom - back in full force, even.

Hope this isn't one of those awkward moments. Not that Rhys is likely to give a damn if it is. It's in that moment that he's escorted to a nearby cot- hands completely wrapped in bandages- looking moderately put upon. There's mention by the person urging him to settle in that it takes time to heal burns, much less grow back layers of skin and he WILL cooperate, if he doesn't want that healing to be painful.

Through Aurelian's stillness comes a very slight shake to Liam's head, "No, I wasn't, but…" There was more there, but it doesn't come, his lips sealed around the rest of the sentence before it has any chance to escape. There's a somewhat pained expression that ripples across his finely boned features, there and gone, as his gaze drifts off to one side. This is short-lived, for when Aurelian's ire returns and he receives it in full force, those brightly colored aqua eyes dart back quickly his direction, "I don't know why they didn't kill me," he replies, just as soft and quiet as ever, "They caught us trying to get back into the country, after…" Swallowing thickly, Liam can't maintain the eye contact and so it's flickered off elsewhere, unaware of the bandaged fellow seated on a cot behind him somewhere. "…everything after that was pain and…" Another gentle headshake, and this is where his voice finally goes flat, "They wouldn't kill me, even when I begged them to…"

"Trying to get back in? Why in the world would you - " Aurelian cuts himself off and mutters a string of old French curses under his breath. Beyond the sealed-off nature, his expression has gone eerily blank at that, and those grey eyes are dead when the return to Liam from having glanced at the movement surrounding Rhys' arrival. "There is no shortage of towers to fling yourself from." But that deadpan statement is all he has to say about any of this before turning on his heel and storming off down the corridor. Hey, if the guy's gonna beg for death…

Whatever memory or errant thought that had stolen that soothing quality from Liam's voice is pushed away and it returns as if it were never missing, "Family, is a powerful modivator…" he breathes out, attention back on Aurelian. Weathering the death of the other man's expression, Liam blinks only once at the suggestion of throwing himself out of a tower, brows drifting upwards before he laughs again in that melodical but ever-so-slightly 'off' sort of way, "I'll keep that in mind." This is all that's said to the receeding back of Aurelian, simply watching him as he turns on his heel and stomp off down the corridor. As soon as he's well and truly gone, the odd eyed fellow sighs heavily as he somehow convinces himself that lingering in hallways is rude, and with great effort finds his feet again. Past Rhys he goes, offering a thin smile and a bob of his head, before lowering himself back down to the bed he'd so recently vacated. Perhaps, sleeping for another month through was in order.

Any additional notes fall to the bottom.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License