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vartex[The past several days feel like something of a blur, in retrospect. Ever since his near-death on Al Shahal Messer has been in and out of hospital, brought back from the edge in record time only thanks to the medical advancements and the pure adrenaline pumped through his body during his Var infection, and as much as he'd hated to remain bedridden, the war resumed without him. Not that he took to his new fate quietly- he'd tried to leave his bed enough times that the medical staff had stopped giving him access to intel of when fighting was going on between Walkure, Delta, and the Windermerians. That had helped... a little.
What definitely hadn't helped was his diagnosis: he survived the blast through his body, miraculously, but it wasn't without consequence. A last second dodge meant it avoided his heart and tore through his collarbone and shoulder instead, shattering bones, burning away his flesh, and destroying several crucial muscles they'd had to artificially rebuild. It was his left arm, at least, and therefore not the dominant one, but it still meant that his motor functions were a mess right now. Even after recovering enough to be back on his feet, he's been ordered to keep it in a sling as much as possible, and he's had trouble with movement, grip, reaction time... all critical abilities for a pilot. Molders already came by for a visit or two between skirmishes to discuss it, and his prospects weren't good.
And it's... is fine. It's fine. He'll be fine. He knows his career as a pilot is over as long as the Var remains incurable, but still... at least before, there'd been some distant hope. Now it's hard to feel anything.
(Which is another problem- the numbness sets in sometimes. They've got him on multiple painkillers and he's gotten reprimanded for trying to dodge taking a few. He hates that numbness already.)
Even with all of that, living is better than not, at least for now. Fate must want him around for something. And Kaname... her tears, as he lay seemingly dying in her arms after nearly crashing at her feet, had been terrible to behold. He never wants to see that look on her face again.
He hadn't been given much time to consider the deeper implications of his situation or be transferred again; not long after he's back on his feet (just barely), the Windermerians launched an attack on Ragna that left them dangerously close to total destruction, and they'd been ordered to split up and vanish for a while so they could recoup their losses, regain some sponsorship, and gather more intel on how to proceed. To his surprise, Molders had assigned him with Kaname and sent the two of them off in his Siegfried to Voldor, towards the safe houses they'd arranged with those freed by Walkure the last time they'd infiltrated the planet. With the Delta 2 plane hidden away in the marshlands outside of town, and their arms full of supplies, that's where they're headed now.]
...The sky's clouding over... we should be there before it rains.
What definitely hadn't helped was his diagnosis: he survived the blast through his body, miraculously, but it wasn't without consequence. A last second dodge meant it avoided his heart and tore through his collarbone and shoulder instead, shattering bones, burning away his flesh, and destroying several crucial muscles they'd had to artificially rebuild. It was his left arm, at least, and therefore not the dominant one, but it still meant that his motor functions were a mess right now. Even after recovering enough to be back on his feet, he's been ordered to keep it in a sling as much as possible, and he's had trouble with movement, grip, reaction time... all critical abilities for a pilot. Molders already came by for a visit or two between skirmishes to discuss it, and his prospects weren't good.
And it's... is fine. It's fine. He'll be fine. He knows his career as a pilot is over as long as the Var remains incurable, but still... at least before, there'd been some distant hope. Now it's hard to feel anything.
(Which is another problem- the numbness sets in sometimes. They've got him on multiple painkillers and he's gotten reprimanded for trying to dodge taking a few. He hates that numbness already.)
Even with all of that, living is better than not, at least for now. Fate must want him around for something. And Kaname... her tears, as he lay seemingly dying in her arms after nearly crashing at her feet, had been terrible to behold. He never wants to see that look on her face again.
He hadn't been given much time to consider the deeper implications of his situation or be transferred again; not long after he's back on his feet (just barely), the Windermerians launched an attack on Ragna that left them dangerously close to total destruction, and they'd been ordered to split up and vanish for a while so they could recoup their losses, regain some sponsorship, and gather more intel on how to proceed. To his surprise, Molders had assigned him with Kaname and sent the two of them off in his Siegfried to Voldor, towards the safe houses they'd arranged with those freed by Walkure the last time they'd infiltrated the planet. With the Delta 2 plane hidden away in the marshlands outside of town, and their arms full of supplies, that's where they're headed now.]
...The sky's clouding over... we should be there before it rains.
