Log Date: June 1996 Log Cast: Tance Vokrim, Crystal Singer Kesya As'shoriah, Crystal Singer Yelira Dal Rin, Crystal Singer Jerrik Rawn Deegan, Sledtech Nadine ni'Hanima al'Caharin, Meditech Kaylin Ulrike Frank, Meditech Log Intro: Life for a Crystal Singer -- particularly an old one -- falls all too easily into a pattern of hit the Ranges, find crystal, get injured, head home, repeat ad infinitum. And when you're an old Crystal Singer, it becomes all the harder to find things that can break you out of that pattern, whether they be a rich strike of crystal to take you offworld... or a friend or two who look past a crystal-crazed mind to the person beneath. But what happens when those friends have duties of their own and must return to them, leaving you, the old Singer, no recourse but to get back into that rut to save a flagging credit balance? Tance Vokrim has returned to exactly that rut... and after a nasty run to the Ranges staggers back, injured, long enough to restock his sled at the Guildhall. As he's there he runs into someone who's been trying to befriend him lately.... ---------- Grimacing with pain, his brow sheened in sweat, Tance Vokrim staggers towards his crookedly parked sled. Kesya strides in, her eyes quickly flicking to where her sled sits in it's rack. She begins to gesture to a sledtech, but then notices the man staggering across the Hangar floor. "Tance! What in blazes happened to *you*?!" She hurries towardsy him, concern evident on her features. Tance jerks his head up; his eyes are glazed over. "Outta my way," he croaks vaguely, and tries to whirl, fist lifting in what is probably intended to be a flying punch but which mostly serves to just unbalance him. He totters, slams against the sled rack, and starts to crumple. Kesya instinctively ducks as Tance raises his fist, and as he starts to slide towards the floor, slides her arm under his uninjured one. "Geez Tance, you're in rough shape." Her voice is a little strained as she tries to help him keep his balance (maybe stupidly, considering his condition). "Can I get you a medic?" Tance growls slurrily, "Don' wan' medic! Lemme go... hafta cut... fardlin' jumper!" His voice breaks, and although he tries to wrest himself free, he clearly doesn't have the strength for it. He stinks of days of sweat and dirt and blood, and his clothes are in shreds. Kesya shakes her head, lips pressed together as she gently lets Tance slip to the floor. "Tance, you're in no condition to go out again! You'd probably end up crashing, and then you'd be even worse." She looks him over, her frown deepening with each injury. "Shards, I'm surprised you could fly in as it was." Tance mumbles weakly, "Hafta cut..." As his abused body of its own accord crumples him down, his unfocused eyes nearly drop closed. "You. Who're you? Outta my claim...!" ---------- Kesya, disheartened and despite herself angered that Tance should have returned to the point that he shouts at her like he does everyone else, lets the old Singer return to the Ranges. While in flight, Tance strikes the luck of a pair of claims, one pale blue and the other rich deep green... but with that boost to his credit balance comes a string of injuries that leave him in such bad shape that he barely remembers to activate the emergency beacon on his sled before fainting in the pilot's seat. Before the sledtechs on duty can answer the beacon, though, someone else discovers Tance's claim.... ---------- Yelira scrambles out of her sled and curses softly to herself as she sees another sled. She eyes it uncertainly. Tance's sled is parked somewhat haphazardly... but there is no sign of a Singer anywhere in evidence. The claim itself is quiet, with no sounds of singing or active crystal carried to you on the breeze; in fact, the only sound in near range is a faint beep from within the other vehicle. Occasionally, you hear the slightest hint of crystal resonance coursing through your body. Non-singers around you see: If you happen to be very close to Tance, the fine hairs on your arms stand on end, but Tance doesn't appear to notice anything. Tance's sled This glittering, new sled appears to have never been used. The impression is false, as the recruit who spent several hours on it would be glad to tell you in great detail. The metal and glasswork has been polished, the seats attacked with stain remover... even the floor has been actually waxed. Of course if this happens to make the Singer slip at some later date, it may be reasonably classified as the cleaning help's revenge. This is a 2 person capacity sled. There is room in this sled for 8 cartons, 5 have been checked out. The console is on. The emergency beacon is blinking rapidly. The speaker is off. The auto-scanner is on. A small metal plate is fastened to the upper left corner, you can just make out "Smeghead" scratched into the surface. The weather is fine. A good day for flying. ( Type 'sled help' to see available commands. ) Contents: Carton 5 - Tance Carton 4 - Tance Carton 3 - Tance Carton 2 - Tance Carton 1 - Tance You feel crystal caressing you softly along your nerves. Non-singers around you see: You feel a tingle and the hairs on the back of your hand rise up as Tance moves past you. Your resonance level is: 2.04 Yelira scrambles out of her sled and curses softly to herself as she sees another sled. She eyes it uncertainly. Tance's sled is parked somewhat haphazardly... but there is no sign of a Singer anywhere in evidence. The claim itself is quiet, with no sounds of singing or active crystal carried to you on the breeze; in fact, the only sound in near range is a faint beep from within the other vehicle. Occasionally, you hear the slightest hint of crystal resonance coursing through your body. Non-singers around you see: If you happen to be very close to Tance, the fine hairs on your arms stand on end, but Tance doesn't appear to notice anything. Yelira frowns as she detects the beep beep beep eminating from within the other sled. She knows she's heard that sound before...but what does it mean? A few moments later and fuzzy recollection occurs. She smiles a trifle wickedly and thinks to herself _They must be hurt..._ before she takes advantage of the situations and scrambles off to see if she can find any viable crystal. Still no sign of the Singer as you scramble off through the claim. There is only the lake, its shores... and the cavelet off the north shore, where a certain resonance holds promise. Yelira returns, smiling smugly to herself. _Deep green...nice_, but pauses on her way to her sled to peer at the other sled parked beside hers. _What if they're NOT really hurt?_ She taps her chin thoughtfully and thinks _I can remedy that_ as she looks around the surrounding area for a good-sized rock. Still no sign, not a shout, not a sung note, not even a footstep. Only the continuing beep from within the quiet sled. Its engine is quiet, its hatch slightly ajar, the only reason the tiny sound escapes the vehicle's soundproofing in the first place, to reach Singer ears... Yelira cautiously approaches the hatch of the second sled and listens again. Hearing no more than the steady beep of the vehicle's emergency beacon, she puts a hand out to pry the hatch open a bit more, moving as slowly as she can to reduce the amount of noise she makes. The scent of dirt... and blood... immediately assails your nose. Coming with it is the faint rattled sound of someone's labored breath. Tance(#3209POQce) This is a man of just under average height, with a build that might be skinny if not augmented by knots of wiry muscle along his shoulders and limbs. He is deeply tanned, with the look of one who spends a lot of time working outdoors, and his roughly planed face and callused hands show signs of regular weathering. His eyes, a dark and sullen shade of brown, are framed by lines in his skin that suggest that far too often, their owner glares at anything in his sight. Tance's hair has grown out into a shaggy unkempt mop, that at one time might have been a dark shade of brown. Now it's shot through with grey, and lightened into paler yellowish streaks as well from exposure to sunlight. He's had a beard and mustache grow in, equally unkempt, showing that he hasn't been near a razor in weeks. He is clad in less than immaculate - and rather threadbare - garb of indeterminate shades of brown: a sleeveless tunic and loose-fitting breeches laced up the sides, with battered knee-high boots. You notice that Tance becomes slightly distracted at times. Minor lacerations cover most of his body and he seems disoriented, most likely due to the good-size knot on the left side of his head. He grumbles about rocks and dark cliffs, rubbing his posterior. He limps carefully on his left leg, nursing a nasty sprain. He has numerous cuts and bruises on his hands and knees. His right arm hangs limply, the elbow shattered. Even the healing powers of the symbiote can't help much in this case -- it's going to take a surgeon to reassemble the pieces of bone into their proper locations. He can barely walk. It is obvious that his left knee has been badly injured. Tance is gingerly holding his right arm close to his chest. His shoulder looks oddly deformed, as if it is dislocated. Yelira frowns to herself, wrinkling her nose. She pulls the hatch open enough to insert her head just enough to see the contents of the sled. There are cartons in there... four on the storage rack, one out on the floor, oddly tied round with a rope as if it's been hauled. But the most apparent sight is a limp arm, dnagling down from someone lying slumped in the pilot's seat of the two-person sled. You feel the mild caress of crystal resonance softly along your nerves. Non-singers around you see: If you happen to be very close to Tance, the fine hairs on your arms stand on end, but Tance doesn't appear to notice anything. Yelira chucks a pebble in the direction of the pilot's seat and ducks back quickly as she hears it *tink!* against the viewscreen, waiting to see if the pilot is conscious. There comes a faint rasping groan, and then silence. The dangling arm in your line of sight doesn't move. Yelira continues to wait for a few moments and as the silence continues, curiosity gets the better of her and she creeps silently into the sled, pausing to look at the cartons stored therein. Yelira has arrived. Tance lies crumpled in the seat, his filthy and blooded features dimly lit by the faint pulse of the emergency light. He shows no sign of awareness of your presence. Yelira narrows her eyes, her posture one of a crouched feline ready to spring away at the slightest provocation. She glances once at the slumped figure of the pilot, then hunkers down by the carton of the floor, opening its top to see what it contains. Rich green prisms glint there in the protective webbing -- evidently, yes, the battered pilot had indeed sung the claim. Yelira hmmms in a low voice to herself, as she blinks happily at the crystals. She claps a hand over her mouth and shoots a glance at the other Singer, hoping he hasn't heard her. Tance's head lolls sideways, his bedraggled hair, full of sweat and dirt and blood, falling in a short curtain from it. He doesn't stir. If you listen hard, you can hear crystal resonance coursing gently through your body. Non-singers around you see: If you happen to be very close to Tance, the fine hairs on your arms stand on end, but Tance doesn't appear to notice anything. Yelira, eyes narrowed again, begins to smile...not a pleasant smile. She stands up and creeps towards the pilot's seat until she's directly behind. Biting her lip as she hesitates just a moment, she puts her hand out and pokes sharply Tance's uninjured shoulder, saying "Hey!" at the same time. She ducks down behind the seat, in case he whirls around, trying to remain outof his line of sight. Tance stirs, groaning, but does not make it fully into consciousness. Yelira wait a few minutes longer, before cackling softly to herself as she stands up again. She hastily starts transferring Tance's cartons to her own sled. Yelira unties the rope from the fifth carton, casting it aside. That job complete, she returns to the emptied sled and eyes the unconscious Singer critically, trying to decide what to do with him. If that clot of blood in the Singer's matted hair is any indication, this man is badly hurt. The rest of his is filthy and blood-streaked, as well. Yelira taps her chin as she thinks, then tries comming the base: "JPF Base come in..." A voice is heard over the speaker in the sled's console. "JPF Base to occupants of sled 'Smeghead'", Jerrik says, "Base here. Go ahead..." For those who can hear the voice is definitely a feminine one that responds, gruff though it is, "Injured Singer. Need transport back. Zero in on this sled's location. Confirm?" A voice is heard over the speaker in the sled's console. "JPF Base to occupants of sled 'Smeghead'", Jerrik says, " Confirm. Rescue team on the way. We'll have a medic standing by." Yelira glances at the injured SInger and mutters "It's your lucky day, isn't it, buddy?" Chuckling softly to herself, she hastens out of the sled. Yelira has left. Yelira proceeds to hurriedly clamber into her own sled and lift off, erasing any evidence she was ever there. If you remain motionless, you can just detect some crystal resonance in your bones. Non-singers around you see: A tingle makes the hairs on the back of your hand rise up as Tance passes you. ---------- Meanwhile, sledtech Jerrik Rawn Deegan is on duty in the Hangar back at the JPF.... ---------- You hear a quiet tone on your wrist unit, and then a voice says, "A message to all on Ballybran from Jerrik: Attention medical personnel. Rescue of an injured Singer is in progress. Any available medics please report ASAP to the Hangar. Thank you.". [And in a few minutes....] Nadine walks in quickly, tugging at the sleeves of her lab coat. Casting a quick glance around the hangar, she steps over to Jerrik and asks, "Who this time?" Jerrik, frowning at his terminal, signs off from the comm and gets up. "CS Vokrim's sled is the ident on the call..." Jerrik nods thankfully, though, as the medic arrives. "The rescue team'll have him in in about ten minutes." Nadine runs a hand through her hair with a sigh and nods. "Maybe it's better I'm the one on duty then. How..Ah, answering my questions before I ask them now, I see. Thank you." Jerrik winks. "I'm an old hand at this, lass. And the rescue team's old hands at hauling in that old badger, too." Nadine grins, fishing in a pocket for her scanner. "That doesn't surprise me, knowing what I do of CS Vokrim, and knowing how many times I've bandaged him up." An enormous transport wagon rumbles into the hangar floor and deposits Tance's disabled sled with a sickening crunch. Tance's sled has arrived. Nadine moves back against the wall as the wagon drops the sled, then takes a half step forward, as if to peek inside it. Jerrik starts shouting orders the minute the rescue team returns; one of the techs drops off the transport and reports, "He's banged up pretty badly in there, Jerrik, we secured him to the pilot's seat so he wouldn't fall out. Sled's okay, though." Jerrik frowns, and nods, then, turning back to the medic. "Looks like you take over from here." Nadine steps forward to the sled, nodding. "Looks that way. Thanks." Nadine steps into the airsled "Smeghead." Nadine has left. ---------- And within the sled.... ---------- After what seems like an eternity of bouncing and clanging around, a loud thump followed by no motion would seem to indicate arrival in the hangar. Nadine has arrived. Nadine looks at you for a moment. Indeed, the techs were true to their word; the pilot of the sled has been secured to his seat, where he's slumped limply. Nadine steps carefully into the sled and up to the pilot's seat, faint surprise registering on her face, even though the sled has just been hauled in from the ranges. "Well, Tance, looks as though you've done yourself in good this time," she remarks mildly, taking visual inventory of the damage. The sled's control panel does read _Smeghead_, so the pilot must be Tance Vokrim -- but if it is, he's barely recognizable under week's worth of whiskers, not to mention dirt and sweat and blood. His right arm dangles limply at his side, and his matted hair is tangled and streaked heavily with blood on one side. Nadine puts the scanner into a pocket, for the meantime, and reaches out for his left wrist to check a pulse, speaking as she does so. "Tance, can you hear me?" The pulse is there, though slightly erratic. Tance's breath is thready, too. No answer from him, though, as you call his name. Nadine shakes her head with a sigh, quickly kneeling in front of the chair to unfasten the strap. "Okay, let's get you to the infirmary where I can take a better look at you. Since you don't seem to be all the way with us, I don't want you to do anything. Let me help you up and out of the sled, then I'll get a gurney." While speaking she sits on the very edge of the left side of the seat, then hefts Tance's arm around her shoulders. "Right, here we go then." She gets to her feet slowly, hopefully pulling Tance along with her. Tance groans, and nearly crumples over onto the medic as his left leg buckles under his weight. You feel crystal caressing you softly along your nerves. Non-singers around you see: If you happen to be very close to Tance, the fine hairs on your arms stand on end, but Tance doesn't appear to notice anything. Nadine, not quite expecting that to happen, but able enough to hold the Singer up, moves toward the hatch of the sled slowly. "Just out of the sled, hey? You just lean on me, I'll get us there." Tance seems to rouse faintly at the murmured words, but doesn't make it completely into consciousness. He very nearly crumples a time or two more as his almost-dead weight is eventually hauled out of the sled... ---------- Out in the Hangar.... ---------- Tance has arrived. Nadine steps out from the cramped interior of the airsled "Smeghead." Nadine has arrived. Jerrik, lingering nearby, pipes up, "You need some help with him, lass?" Nadine leans back up against the sled and nods. "Hold him up, if you could, while I get a gurney up here? Can't hold onto him and do that at the same time." Jerrik nods briskly and steps in to grasp the near-senseless Singer. Tance reels into the sledtech's support, his head lolling forward, matted hair half-hiding his face. Nadine gives Jerrik a smile of thanks as she steps slightly away from the pair. Nadine presses a button on her wrist unit and speaks into it, summoning a gurney. Gurney 2 has arrived. Jerrik whistles lowly. "What'd he do, get run over by his own sled?" Nadine shakes her head, motioning for the intern to help Tance onto the gurney. "I don't know, but you'd sure think so, the way he looks right now." Tance utters no more than a breathy moan as he is helped onto the wheeled bed. Tance is helped onto the gurney by the medic. Tance has left. Jerrik says dryly, "This is as bad as I've ever seen him. Usually he's at least able to stagger out swinging his cutter..." Nadine watches all this carefully, then looks back over her shoulder at Jerrik with a smile. "Yeah, well, maybe it's better for us that he's not this time. Thanks for your help." Nadine moves up behind the gurney and pushes it toward the lifts. "Here we go, I'll try not to bounce you round much." Nadine pushes the gurney out of the room. Gurney 2 ducks into the ready room, escaping from the swirling wind. Gurney 2 has left. Nadine ducks into the ready room, escaping from the swirling wind. Nadine has left. ---------- Nadine briskly escorts her patient down to the Infirmary.... ---------- Infirmary(#403RAM) The infirmary is a bustling place with medics, orderlies and patients constantly moving about. Closest to the entrance you can see a large administration facility, completely outfitted with a line of monitors along the back wall. Several stripes lead off in all directions, all looking plain until you get close enough to see the difference in textures. At the farther side of the room, several examination tables wait amongst movable privacy screens, all seeming crowed amongst cabinets stuffed with medical supplies. The lighting on this level has been set to a muted glow for the evening hours. Contents: Kaylin Dr. Bear Catering Unit Obvious exits: Private Door Long Term Care Short Term Care Lift Nadine walks softly from the lift area. Kaylin looks up at the sound of the gurney "Nadine? what's up?" Tance lies in a ragged and filthy heap on the gurney, barely moving. Nadine pushes the gurney into the room and over to one of the beds, gesturing down to its occupant. "Take a look. Looks as if he rolled down a mountain or something." Kaylin stands and takes a look at the occupant of the gurney. "Oh, my stars! Tance really did it this time! What a mess!" Kaylin sighs "He's your patient, you lead, I'll assist." Nadine nods, already lowering the rail on the gurney to slide Tance over to one of the beds. "Help me shift him? Gently, though. I'm still not quite sure how extensive his injuries are." Kaylin nods and assists in moving Tance to one of the exam tables. You are helped off the gurney by the medic. Nadine slowly runs her medical scanner over Tance's body. You hear a slight hum and lights on the small, black gadget flicker. Tance moans thickly, his voice sounding like congealed oil. Two beeps sound, and a red light stabilizes, indicating a medical condition for Tance... Minor lacerations cover most of his body and he seems disoriented, most likely due to the good-size knot on the left side of his head. He grumbles about rocks and dark cliffs, rubbing his posterior. He limps carefully on his left leg, nursing a nasty sprain. He has numerous cuts and bruises on his hands and knees. His right arm hangs limply, the elbow shattered. Even the healing powers of the symbiote can't help much in this case -- it's going to take a surgeon to reassemble the pieces of bone into their proper locations. He can barely walk. It is obvious that his left knee has been badly injured. Tance is gingerly holding his right arm close to his chest. His shoulder looks oddly deformed, as if it is dislocated. Kaylin smiles "I'll start cutting what is left of his clothes off. Phew! I think that the refuse bin in where they belong." Nadine nods, pulling various bandages and antiseptic solutions out of the cabinet, as well as a hypo. She injects this, keeping an eye on Tance's already shallow breathing, and says, "This should help with the pain, at least a bit. There are days when even the sym doesn't help." What's left of Tance's shredded jumpsuit and boots are removed quickly enough, but their absence simply exposes more scrapes and bruises along his skinny frame. Kaylin carefully cuts away the tattered filthy clothing to reveal the cuts and lacerations. "uh, oh. we need to do a deeper scan on right side. I don't like the looks of his shoulder or his elbow. Kaylin continues her cursery exam. "Or his left knee. We may have to do surgery to put them back where the sym can heal them right." Nadine frowns, "The shoulder's dislocated by the looks of that bruise. I've seen injuries similar to the elbow as well, usually happens when they're trying to protect those cutters." Kaylin nodnods and probes the shoulder and elbow softly with knowledgeable fingers.' Yep, dislocation for the shoulder, and more than that for the elbow. We may have to do surgery on the elbow." Nadine cleans the various cuts and scrapes quickly, pausing once she reaches the lump on his head. "This doesn't look good either. I hope this wasn't enough for him to lose what little memory he's got left. He'll be crazy with needing to leave and not understanding why." Tance utters another vague moan, and his eyelids flicker once or twice, heavily, as he hovers on the very edge of consciousness. Kaylin sighs "Problem is we can't use the regular treatment for a dislocation. The elbow doesn't allow us to pull the out the joint in order to fit it back into place. Kaylin carefully examines the left knee. "Feels as if the cap has been dislocated. That can be fixed easily, but he's not going to be doing much walking between it and his arm. Nadine looks over at Kaylin briefly, shaking her head. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to go pulling on that elbow, unconscious or not. He'd probably take a swing at one of us without really realizing it." You feel the mild caress of crystal resonance softly along your nerves. Non-singers around you see: A faint chill seems to pass over you as Tance looks at you, but he doesn't seem to react to it. Kaylin nods in agreement "So we knock him out good and get him into surgery and do all three fixes surgically." Nadine sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "First day back on duty after vacation. Well, I guess I know how to pick 'em. You want to take this one?" Kaylin smiles "again, Nadine, he is your patient, I'll assist." Kaylin chuckles "I know you know what you are doing." ---------- And with that, the two medics hustle their patient into surgery, working carefully to sedate him, and do the delicate repair work of assembling his shattered and dislocated bones. After they clean him up and shave him he is, perhaps, once more recognizable as a human being.... ---------- Tance(#3209POQce) This is a man of just under average height, with a build that might be skinny if not augmented by knots of wiry muscle along his shoulders and limbs. He is deeply tanned, with the look of one who spends a lot of time working outdoors, and his roughly planed face and callused hands show signs of regular weathering. His eyes, a dark and sullen shade of brown, are framed by lines in his skin that suggest that far too often, their owner glares at anything in his sight. His hair, a peppered mix of dark brown, lighter sunstreaks, and myriad strands of grey, has been trimmed to a short but not unattractive style, with even a lock to dangle a little in front and give him a more youthful look. A neat Vandyke beard, closer to grey than his hair, stands out palely against his weathered face, set off by his tan. He is clad only in one of the utilitarian gowns the Infirmary of the Heptite Guild issues to its patients, a thing of servicable grey cloth that grants at least a measure of dignity and privacy to the wearer while allowing a medic to scan him or her with ease. If you happen to be very close to Tance, the fine hairs on your arms stand on end, but Tance doesn't appear to notice anything. Minor lacerations cover most of his body, though they have been cleaned and bandaged lightly to allow the symbiont to complete the healing. There is a large lump on the left side of his head, the bruise fading, but the disorientation lingers. His left ankle has been carefully bound to support the sprain. A brace holds his left knee still to allow the cap to resettle to its former, working position. A cast graces his right arm from wrist to just below the shoulder, holding that still to allow the bone to set. His shoulder has been carefully, surgically relocated, though a rather large bruise still gives evidence of the injury. An IV of glucose and other nutrients has been set up to run slowly into his left arm. Short Term Care This area is dedicated to fixing minor emergencies, such as broken bones and severed fingers. Medical cabinets on the walls are filled with bandages, ointments and medicines. The gleaming white walls help to sooth anxious nerves while providing medics with bright light to work by. The room has a sterile, antiseptic smell. Movable gurneys can be used to transport an injured Guild member from place to place. There is a button next to each bed that can be used to summon medical help. The monitor in this room is off. Noone is checked into bed one, and Noone is checked into bed two. Obvious exits: Infirmary Kaylin walks into Short Term Care looking for medical assistance. Kaylin has arrived. Kaylin uses her computer access to check Tance into bed one. Kaylin along with Nadine get you settled in bed, with pillows and such supporting your injured limbs. The rails are up and an iv runs thru a counter to your arm. Kaylin looks at you for a moment. Nadine walks into Short Term Care looking for medical assistance. Nadine has arrived. Kaylin smiles as we get him settled in bed "There now, we just have to wait for him to wake up and start yelling." Nadine grins and finds a stool to sit down on. "Of course. One of the things he does best." Nadine looks at you for a moment. Kaylin chuckles "How can such a pain in the arse be such a cutie?" As if the Singer hears the mutterings, his head shifts on the pillows supporting it. He winces, when the bandage there presses against the pillow beneath him. Tance turns his head back, frowning ever so vaguely. His eyelids flicker, showing glazed brown underneath. Nadine grins, "Don't let him hear you say that, Kaylin. He'd never believe it." Kaylin says quietly "It's okay Tance. You are safe back in the JPF Infirmary." Kaylin nods and chuckles softly to Nadine. The Singer's eyes open, slowly, with great effort. Tance stares muzzily up at the two blurred faces over him, and watches them come into focus, his own face oddly dreamy of expression. Nadine steps up to the side of the bed. "Tance? How are you feeling?" Kaylin watches the Singer wake up, double checking the monitors for signs of any difficulties. Tance blinks, once, and at last mumbles thickly, "Who.... 're you?" Kaylin smiles "I'm Kaylin, the ice cream lady" Nadine glances up at Kaylin, then back to the Singer in the bed. "I'm Nadine. Remember me?" She pushes back the hair on the left side of her face, revealing one pointed ear. "Ice... cream?" Tance's slurred voice keeps its slow pace, as his eyes track slowly from Kaylin to Nadine's revealed ear. "I... don't remember..." Kaylin smiles gently "Don't let it bother you. We can just get reaquainted." Kaylin sighs 'looks like we need to feed him up again this stay with us." Nadine nods faintly, letting her hands drop back to her sides. "You took a pretty good bump on the head, from what we can see, so you may have some trouble with your memory for awhile. It should just be temporary, though." Tance's brow furrows, just a little, but for the most part his face seems oddly blank, without his usual glower. "My... head hurts," he agrees. "I'm... you said I'm... Tance?" Kaylin closes her eyes briefly "Yes y ou are Tance Vokrim, Crystal Singer with the Heptite Guild" Occasionally, you hear the slightest hint of crystal resonance coursing through your body. Non-singers around you see: If you happen to be very close to Tance, the fine hairs on your arms stand on end, but Tance doesn't appear to notice anything. Kaylin scrubs at her arms briefly. "You will be staying with us in the Infirmary for a while to heal up." Another vague not-quite-frown crosses the Singer's face, as if he can'tsummon the energy for a true frown. "Don't... remember," he repeats, dolefully, gazes shifting to stay on Kaylin as she speaks to him. Kaylin smiles again "That will pass. Don't let it bother you. Probably part of the trauma from your head and a bit of a shock to your sytem." Nadine nods her agreement. "You'll be back to your old self in no time flat, I'm sure." Back goes Tance's groggy regard to Nadine, and he mumbles, "Is this good...?" Nadine can't help but grin at Kaylin before replying to Tance. "I don't know about Kaylin here, but I'm just glad that we were able to put you back together." Kaylin returns the grins "Oh, yes, you'll be as good as you were before the accident. Your old self." Kaylin moves over with a glass of cool water with a straw in it. "thirsty, Tance?" Tance doesn't answer immediately, considering, perhaps, the assurances that he'll return to normal in good time. Then he looks languidly up at Kaylin, and makes a small noise of assent, wincing slightly when he starts to nod. Kaylin holds the glass and puts the straw to your lips. "sip slowly, now." Tance obeys without protest, a sure enough sign that CS Vokrim is not himself. Nadine watches this exchange with the barest shake of her head, then sits down again. Kaylin glances up at Nadine, her eyes showing a bit of concern. Kaylin smiles "there we'll give you some more later. After you have recovered a bit more we can bring you something to eat." Tance mumbles, "Thank you..." Kaylin blinks, covering the startled look on her face but turning to set the glass down. Kaylin says soflty "Your welcome, Tance" Kaylin says "Rest now, sleep some. I've got to make my rounds." Tance agrees vaguely, "Sleepy... really sleepy...." Kaylin lays a cool hand on your forhead and the softly touches your weathered cheek, "yes, sleep, rest well, old friend." Tance's eyes start dropping shut under his newly trimmed forelock, and he drops quickly into slumber, his face strangely tranquil. Kaylin sighs softly and turns to leave the sleeping singer. Kaylin leaves the busy emergency room. Kaylin has left. [End log.]