Ask Lingering Consequences

[Ferrin Sipal]

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Ferrin wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed since he was admitted to the hospital - nor since they had fought Vizim. All of it blurred together in horrific flashes, though it was only that final image that lingered in the Pantoran’s mind. The flash of the Sith’s dagger, the satisfied malice in his eyes, and the pools of Ferrin’s own lifeblood that soaked between his fingers. It was the sole image that haunted his dreams and wasn't likely to leave him any time soon.

The low, mechanized beeps of hospital equipment filled Ferrin’s ears - echoing through the room with maddening repetition. He was hooked up to a multitude of devices, while his neck was bandaged and treated with multiple rounds of Bacta therapy. According to the doctors, Ferrin was lucky to be alive. If it wasn’t for Zathria and her healing abilities, he likely wouldn’t have been.

But that didn’t mean Ferrin left Berchest unscathed.

In truth, he had not entirely processed the horrific reality of his injuries. While medical droids were able to repair arteries and close the physical wound, they could do little to the damage to Ferrin’s vocal cords. Vizim’s dagger had cut through muscle and membranous tissue, and left the Pantoran unable to speak a single word. Even the doctors couldn’t offer any concrete prognosis, leaving him to wonder whether the injury would ever truly heal.

Perhaps Ferrin was lucky to be alive, but he certainly didn’t feel it at that moment. All of his witty remarks and smooth quips were precisely what made the Pantoran who he was. It was a key part of his personality, and had been his biggest contribution on Berchest. And it had all been taken from him in an instant.

In silence, Ferrin leaned back into his hospital bed - golden eyes fixed onto the sterile white ceiling above. He didn’t want to think about trying to adapt to his condition, or all the ways it made him feel broken in some way. Instead, he merely closed his eyes once more - listening to the constant repetition of mechanical beeps.

@Sreeya @Zay @Alhon(?)

 

[Ezra Thorne]

Ezra stood at the doorway of the hospital room for a long time. He wasn’t sure how to greet him, and he was only vaguely informed that Ferrin’s injuries were bad. The Pantoran had only just come to consciousness after being submerged in bacta. Ezra looked exhausted, his face betraying that he hadn’t slept much at all the past few days. Between worrying sick about Dash, thinking about what happened and Ferrin’s terrible injuries, he carried a lot of personal guilt.

He had a box in his arms as he walked in, already barely recognizing Ferrin. He didn’t have his usual sultry or overconfident look about him. It wasn’t really Ferrin without that, and it bothered Ezra far more than he would admit.

“Hey,” Ezra said simply, not bothering to ask a lame question like how he was doing. He walked over and handed the box to Ferrin, “Open it and try not to scream,” He said with a wink and a tired smile.

If Ferrin unwrapped it, he would see it was a signed Bylluran Athletic jersey.

@Altaris @Zay

 

[Ferrin Sipal]

For several moments, Ferrin allowed his gaze to linger on the ceiling - golden eyes staring off into nothing at all. There was a part of him that simply wanted to sleep it off.. To get out of the hospital and find the nearest club or cantina to focus on something else. To find his usual Spice dealer and let that high carry him to a place where he didn’t have to think about Berchest, Vizim or his current condition. All of that was so much easier than.. Well, addressing it. Talking about it wasn’t really an option now.

It was clear that the Pantoran was deep in his thoughts when Ezra stepped into the hospital room - his expression knitted into a complicated expression leagued from his usual witty smirk. Nevertheless, his attention flicked right onto the quarter-Sephi - golden eyes going wide ever-so-slightly upon seeing him. Ferrin immediately sat up in his hospital bed a bit, running his fingers through his purple hair. At some point, much to the chagrin of his nurses, Ferrin had ditched his incredibly itchy hospital gown - and didn’t bother to pull the blankets up over his toned torso when the quarter-Sephi arrived.

Not intentional at all.

Ferrin offered Ezra a tired smile - golden eyes immediately flicking down to the gift-box he carried. The Pantoran couldn’t help the amused snort at the shamelessly joke he made, rolling his eyes at the quarter-Sephi. While some might’ve sound it an overly touchy subject.. Ferrin was actually grateful for it. He’d heard nothing but ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘how are you’ since he arrived at the hospital. It was nothing but pity and sadness that Ferrin couldn’t help but wallow in. A constant reminder of what he’d lost, and apparently that was the only thing everyone else could see. The joke was the type of lighthearted remark he needed to hear.

He didn’t hesitate to open the box - glancing down at the bright blue jersey folded inside. The Pantoran was quiet for obvious reasons, but likely would’ve been stunned beyond words in the best of circumstances, wide eyes staring down at the signature scrawled across it. Ezra knew exactly how much the sport and team meant to the Pantoran, despite the rivalry with the quarter-Sephi’s own. It was a reminder how far the two went back, and it brought a fond smile to Ferrin’s lips as he stared down at it.

Without a word, Ferrin reached a hand over to grab hold of Ezra’s forearm - giving it a tender squeeze. He glanced up - all the gratitude and warmth evident in his golden eyes. He didn’t need to utter a ‘thank you’ for Ezra to know that he meant it, and would likely treasure the gift for the rest of his days.

There was a moment of silence, and Ferrin couldn’t help but stare up at Ezra. He could see the bags that hung beneath the quarter-Sephi’s eyes, and the hints of exhaustion that were plain to see. Ferrin knew that the Sith Master was likely dead if they were all still alive, and he knew that Dash had taken heavy damage as well. For a moment, Ferrin was completely silent, staring up at his fellow Padawan.

“Ain’t none of it is your fault.”

Ferrin’s telepathic voice echoed through the confines of Ezra’s mind, suddenly breaking the silence between them. The Pantoran didn’t have a perfect grasp of the ability quite yet.. But he was rapidly learning, if only due to necessity. They were the first words he opted to say to the quarter-Sephi, knowing they were the important ones he needed to hear. Little did he know, they were the first words Ferrin had said to anyone since the incident.

@Sreeya @Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

Leon wore anxiety and guilt like an oversized suit. Two of his friends were clinging to life and he was struggling with a powerful urge to climb into a bottle and stay there. He had to keep it together, showing any of this would be selfish. The repetitive chime of the hospital lift was pissing him off. He took a deep breath. He needed to chill, but his hands shook and that made him feel ashamed. Bong! The elevator doors slid open and Leon plastered that mischievous little smirk every loved across his face.

As he reached Ferrin’s room he paused around the corner hearing a familiar voice. Leon knocked on the door then poked his head in, “You guys want me to come back later?”

“Sup cutie,” he nodded to Ezra, then to Ferrin he said, “Hey dude.”

From behind his back, he pulled a bouquet of Kibo flowers. Leon was positive whatever Ezra had brought was better, but these flowers were rare. He’d had to call in some big favors and was on third shift patrol for the next month, but it’d be worth it, to help Ferrin feel better.

@Altaris @Sreeya