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~ forty-first fairy tale
Mar. 21st, 2012 10:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
too_fairytalein one of the clinic's isolation rooms, Amy Pond has spent the past several days in a space lobster-induced coma, having been bitten in the face on day three. She isn't human right now, but her Flesh body is so close to the real thing that the space lobster couldn't tell the difference, and the venom has affected her more or less like it would any other unremarkable human.
That hasn't stopped her husband Rory from worrying himself sick, though, and trying to pass it off as garden-variety run-of-the-mill over-protectiveness while he helps with the other patients as they're brought in, treated, and released when they finally wake up. Amy's sort of lagging in the waking-up race, but now it's her turn.
She swims back to consciousness simply by opening her eyes, and blinking up at the ceiling in vague disorientation. The last thing she remembers is the young man who came to her assistance picking her up to carry her into the clinic. Now her mouth tastes like mothballs and she feels like she's hideously overslept an appointment of some kind. Swallowing, she licks her lips and tries lifting her head a little to look around]
[ooc: open to all in the immediate vicinity, and then over the journals after she gets properly situated!]
That hasn't stopped her husband Rory from worrying himself sick, though, and trying to pass it off as garden-variety run-of-the-mill over-protectiveness while he helps with the other patients as they're brought in, treated, and released when they finally wake up. Amy's sort of lagging in the waking-up race, but now it's her turn.
She swims back to consciousness simply by opening her eyes, and blinking up at the ceiling in vague disorientation. The last thing she remembers is the young man who came to her assistance picking her up to carry her into the clinic. Now her mouth tastes like mothballs and she feels like she's hideously overslept an appointment of some kind. Swallowing, she licks her lips and tries lifting her head a little to look around]
[ooc: open to all in the immediate vicinity, and then over the journals after she gets properly situated!]