[When Med’an stumbles, shivering, out of the cryochamber on the first of the month, he can’t remember how he got there. Did he get hurt? Had something happened? He’s not even sure how long he’s been in there. It’s a frightening thought, and he remains disoriented and concerned while the other medbay personnel help him get warmed up and to a sickbed.
He’s looking around slowly, having trouble concentrating on his surroundings. Everything seems busier than normal, but not unfamiliarly busy - it takes several minutes for him to realize that the faces he’s seeing are new arrivals. Once his frazzled brain processes this, it feels even more wrong to be sitting there, waiting to be doctored on instead of doing the doctoring.
He shuffles around uncomfortably, still sluggish from spending time in cryo.]
I...I can...get back to work. I’m fine.
[(He does not appear to be fine.)]
[SNOW!! - AS3H, whatever day you want]
[His days aboard the Moira have left him worn and suspicious. It doesn’t feel right to relax and indulge in the silly, fun things he usually wants to do. He's not too far gone to never have fun again, or anything; he just feels like he has to keep it together more. He has work to do. People to care for. People to worry over.
But it's hard to resist the lure of so much snow. A few days out, he gives in, and finds himself cautiously picking his way through crisp white hills. It rarely snows back in Duskwood, and he hasn't been in the Exodar long enough to see winter, so the abundant snowy wonderland within AS3H is a marvel to him.
He finds a spot somewhat close to the lodge and slowly starts building things with the snow. There's a tiny snowman, a small tower of balls, and now he's working on a little fort. He's heard that this is doable, but he's never been able to try before.]
Med'an | Open!
[When Med’an stumbles, shivering, out of the cryochamber on the first of the month, he can’t remember how he got there. Did he get hurt? Had something happened? He’s not even sure how long he’s been in there. It’s a frightening thought, and he remains disoriented and concerned while the other medbay personnel help him get warmed up and to a sickbed.
He’s looking around slowly, having trouble concentrating on his surroundings. Everything seems busier than normal, but not unfamiliarly busy - it takes several minutes for him to realize that the faces he’s seeing are new arrivals. Once his frazzled brain processes this, it feels even more wrong to be sitting there, waiting to be doctored on instead of doing the doctoring.
He shuffles around uncomfortably, still sluggish from spending time in cryo.]
I...I can...get back to work. I’m fine.
[(He does not appear to be fine.)]
[SNOW!! - AS3H, whatever day you want]
[His days aboard the Moira have left him worn and suspicious. It doesn’t feel right to relax and indulge in the silly, fun things he usually wants to do. He's not too far gone to never have fun again, or anything; he just feels like he has to keep it together more. He has work to do. People to care for. People to worry over.
But it's hard to resist the lure of so much snow. A few days out, he gives in, and finds himself cautiously picking his way through crisp white hills. It rarely snows back in Duskwood, and he hasn't been in the Exodar long enough to see winter, so the abundant snowy wonderland within AS3H is a marvel to him.
He finds a spot somewhat close to the lodge and slowly starts building things with the snow. There's a tiny snowman, a small tower of balls, and now he's working on a little fort. He's heard that this is doable, but he's never been able to try before.]