Broken Recouperation
Roleplaying Log: Broken Recouperation
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Dani goes to check in on Warren and Ali.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: September 16, 2019
IC Location:
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 18 Sep 2019 11:08
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

The immediate aftermath of the Bear's destruction — at least as it pertained to Warren — was a whirlwind of confused and very rapid activity. The wounded mutant spent a little time at the X-Men base directly after the mission — most of it unconscious, mercifully — but Kiff and Cameron were very quick to arrive, take charge of him, and take care of his transport down to New York Presbyterian. It was thought that it was safer, overall, if someone of Warren's high profile wasn't kept at a secret vigilante base, and that — given his own miraculous self-healing powers, the difference in quality of care wouldn't really be all that substantial.

Even if Warren did refuse the luxury patient services(?!) offered by the hospital.

Ever since then, information on his status has come in drips through Kiff's brief reports, and whatever Alison chooses to share. Cameron Hodge has little to say; perhaps thinking those two intermediaries are already more than enough. There isn't much to report, truth be told, because Warren's recovery simply — is not happening. Days pass, and surgeries are performed, and yet against everyone's expectations, his wings continue to deteriorate even as the rest of him recovers.

It has now been nearly half a week, and information has slowed to a trickle. In this case, no news is not good news. At the least, Warren is finally being allowed more visitors, though whether he is in any mental condition to properly receive them is an open question.

He is still confined to bed rest, if only because his wings simply cannot be moved. Spread and pinned out to either side of him in traction, in an effort to set the bones to heal in some semblance of straight, they are bandaged after the two surgeries which have already been performed. Despite the clean, tight wrappings, however, the faint smell of death still comes off them.

Warren himself is awake and sitting up — the position of his wings forces him to sit up — but he is not doing much of anything except staring out the window.


It's been nearly a half a week since the death of the Demon Bear and while Moonstar had many things to keep her physically busy, mentally is a whole othert story.

In fact, there are particular moments from that specific day which are now seared into the Cheyenne's brain and so far, time has yet to blunt any of those images.

Broken feathers.

Blood.

It's what brings Danielle Moonstar to the hospital once visitation is allowed.

Slowly the woman walks down the hopsital hallway the astringent antiseptic scent heavy upon the air. When she arrives at Warren's door there's a second of hesitation, a marshalling of herself or perhaps her thoughts, before she knocks upon the door. With her presence dutifully announced and as long as no one shouts don't come in, Moonstar steps into the hospital room. Her gaze moves immediately to the winged man in the bed and her initial greeting is rather simple, "Warren."

More words will come, but for now she starts there, especially as she fights against the urge to stare at those broken wings.


An awkward silence hangs in the hospital room.

Then, perhaps fortune taking pity: it breaks up with the muffled sound of a sink turning on and off. The ensuite bathroom door opens, and Alison Blaire emerges — looking a world's difference in comparison with Warren, but her eyes purpled at the lower lids from terminal sleeplessness.

Her expression hits surprise, then relief to see Danielle Moonstar in the doorway — thank God, a visitor — and Alison moves forward. "Dani, it's so nice to see you," she greets, slipping in to fold her into a hug.

The silence threatens to come back. Alison's mind turns its anxious wheels. She knows Warren's wings are a sight — though she still doggedly believes their deterioration is a setback, easily healed once the hackjobs in this hospital can allow Warren's body to repair his limbs. "Please, come in. There's a chair here — have a seat."

Hers is a fussy presence, a little habituated with her few days' of nigh-constant caretaking, with little spare thought in Alison's head that isn't dominated by Warren's condition, Warren's requests, Warren's needs, Warren's comfort, Warren's moods.

She hangs there a moment. She really shouldn't be here. Warren will use her as intermediary, and withdraw. He needs to talk to people.

"I… am actually just on my way to get some coffee from downstairs, and some of the godawful sandwiches," Alison declares, a little awkwardly, reaching for her nearby purse. She smiles apologetically. "I'm going to pick some up for you two. Warren, I'll be right back."

And she slips out.


No one shouts for her not to come in. No one shouts for her to come in either. Her knock is only met with silence.

So, too, is her initial greeting. Warren doesn't speak, or look around. Alison's concerns about him using her to avoid interaction are clearly warranted: he evinces no reaction to Dani, nor to Alison's brief conversation with her. His main fascination is with a particularly puffy cloud drifting by.

Towering cumulus. Just forming up. There would be such a perfect thermal beneath it…

He doesn't move appreciably until Alison addresses him directly. His head turns slightly — not enough for him to actually look either her or Dani, though. "Ali…" he says, his voice strained, but she's already decided what he needs, no matter what he wants. The door clicks shut, and Dani finds herself alone with the convalescent.

Bed rest is ill-suited to a creature like Warren Worthington. Seeing him there has the same wrong quality as seeing a bird sitting, wing-clipped, in a cage. It is a state that is objectively bad for him, given his great vitality, his larger-than-life personality, and the sheer freeing physicality of his trademark mutations; his immobility has visibly diminished him, tarnishing his beauty and washing out his presence to a mere shadow of its usual vibrancy.

Eventually he finally looks at Dani. Ever since his wings came in, he has not gone longer than a day without flying in some capacity, feeling the sun on his face and the wind through his hair. Multiple days without has left him an ethereal shadow of himself, his skin pale enough to almost seem transparent. Ironically, he looks more angelic now than he did before, with his eyes burning too crystalline-bright in a white, ethereal face.

"So?" It is an obvious effort for him to try and marshal his usual courtesies, his usual habit of command, but God help him, he tries. "Everything is resolved?"


There's probably going to be various shades of awkwardness for this particular visit, but for now when Alison appears Moonstar gratefully shifts her attention off of Warren for a moment.

Alison's relief is quite apparent and sadly, so too is Dani's, as she spies the songstress. However, by the time Ali enfolds her in a hug, Moonstar has rearranged her expression to something more normal, or rather neutral.

"Alison." The Cheyenne says quietly and while she'd like to say something more, she doesn't. Instead Moonstar allows herself to be ushered towards a chair and automatically the black-haired woman sits. In a tone that verges close to normal she says, "Thank you.", because what else can you say?

Not much.

When Alison makes her excuses to leave, Moonstar offers something of an understanding smile to the songstress, "Of course. Take your time."

She can be here for as long as needed, it's only right.

It's only right.

Alone with Warren now Moonstar looks back to the man. She can't help but note the pallor of his skin and automatically Moonstar's gaze turns to those wings. Her expression bends ever so slightly to grim, but only for a moment as Warren speaks.

Her eyes snap back to the man's face as he speaks, "It is." States the woman plainly, "The Bear is gone for good. It deserves something more than just a thank you, but -"

That's all she has. A heartfelt thank you.

She could leave it at that, but she doesn't. Not as she slides a side-eye to his bandaged wings again. Too many thoughts run through her head at the sight of them and it's all those thoughts that prompts her to lean forward slightly, "I think we should bring Illyana in. She might be able to help."

Because even without the faint smell of death Dani has been around it enough to see the telltale signs and she's not one to sit idly by. Not when there's the potential that she can help.


The Bear is gone for good, Dani says. There's an implicit thank you in her tone, one he should really answer.

"Yes," is all he says at first.

"I expect it to be," he eventually adds, his voice uncharacteristically clipped.

He looks down at his hands in his lap instead of at her. The silence goes on, and he lets it. Normally he would be smoothing over the awkwardness of the interaction naturally, carefree and casual and magnanimous. Today, when she has nothing to say, he doesn't help her.

Eventually, she finally leans forward, offering her thoughts. They should bring Illyana in…

"To do what?" he interrupts. The cut-off is jarring. Warren interrupts his company subordinates all the time, but he has rarely ever broken off his friends.


There is some expectation on Dani's part for some measure of shortness.

Or perhaps, really, some level of blame. After all, it was her problem that caused his wings to be injured so terribly … so grieviously.

But even with that expectation, that assumption, to truly experience such a thing is quite jarring.

It brings Moonstar up short and for a silent few seconds all she can do is look at Warren in surprise. It takes a moment for her to regain her composure, to bring her features back to that mask of neutrality, but eventually she does.

Her next words are said in something of a quieter tone, though still firm, still hopeful, "To help. She has access to hundreds if not thousands of spells. There's the possibility that any number of those spells could help, especially with the wounds coming from a magical being. Often times magic needs to be used against magic induced wounds."

She's careful not to say heal, but in the end that's what she's talking about.


He's not blaming her outright. But he's not really consoling her either. He's in no condition to console others right now. He can barely console himself.

Such it is that, though he assuredly sees the brief stricken look on her face — his sharp eyesight certainly hasn't dimmed any — he does and says nothing until it passes by itself.

He just listens, a bit listlessly, as she explains what Illyana could do to help. The idea of magic being worked on his wings — especially the sort of magic Illyana practices — visibly disturbs him, though at the same time the desperation in his eyes prevents him from immediately ruling out the idea.

"I don't react well to the demonic stuff," he eventually says, his voice a little flat. "If I wind up having no choice, I'll try anything, but…" He shrugs. "During that demonic invasion, I found out if I threw my blood on the demons, they'd burn."

He must have tried to instinctively move his wings, because a flicker of pain crosses his face. "I don't want to take any chances. The surgery they just did… they did some grafts, they've got blood flow mostly restored. It might be what's needed to get the healing going."


His reaction to the mention of Illyana's spells being cast upon him is pretty common. Most see Illyana's magics as terribly fell and evil.

Even Dani does to a point, but Moonstar also knows that some of Yana's magics aren't all black and dark. Some (very few) could be what one might call white magics.

Still, his mention of the invasion and what his blood did to the demons causes the woman to reflexively frown. Silently she has to wonder if that would mean Warren might be impervious to some of Yana's spells. Questions to be asked when she seeks Yana out to confer about the possibility of healing.

"I'll at least tell her what happened. Prep her for the possibility -" Likelihood, "- that she might be called upon."

She could have said more but seeing the flicker of pain causes Dani to pause in anything else she might have said.

Those last words of his prompts an automatic response from the Cheyenne, "I'm sure that's it.", but again her gaze turns to his wings. To her senses, both earthly and not, they tell a different story.

A story that she isn't going to tell. Not to Warren at least.

"It's just a matter of time now."


Part of Warren's recalcitrance is that the intricacies of his own mutations — and their possible interactions — are poorly understood even by him. The wings, all the avian adaptations related to his wings, those were readily understandable… but his healing capabilities were a fork in the development of his powers that was unexpected, especially given their unique additional properties. Whether they're truly sanctified in a way that would have him in opposition to anything of a demonic origin, or not, is a mystery to him. The limited evidence has been largely inconsistent.

People get weird secondary mutations that come from nowhere and aren't related to their first ones all the time, Hank had said years ago. Except he'd said it more eloquently, of course: Warren's memory paraphrases most of what Hank says. And often there's no rhyme or reason to it. I wouldn't be surprised about this healing business being pure coincidence, Warren, or —

Hank had looked over his glasses. Or an reactive outgrowth of your personality, to be perfectly honest. Mind over matter, right? No one martyrs harder than you, especially over the smallest hardships.

Salient words for the present day — except this is hardly a small hardship. It's certainly replaced the Warren she knew with this stranger who sits, says nothing, and extends no succor even when it is most needed. She promises to at least consult Illyana, prepare her for the possibility they may try — something. Warren evinces neither any particular enthusiasm nor pointed resistance to the idea.

"Might as well queue up anything, in case," is all he does say.

One thing he is completely certain about, however, are the capabilities of his eyes. He doesn't miss it when Dani keeps looking at his wings, and he can see…

"What?" he says, his gaze turning on her with piercing demand.


There's not much she can say to his rather lackluster response to all she has to say.

To be honest she can't really blame him. There's not much she'd say either if she were in his shoes. Really, there's not much she can say now with her being in her own shoes. Moonstar isn't the type to fill in the silent spaces with idle chit-chat. It's just not her personality.

Not that she has time to contemplate what sort of chatter she might fill in the silences. Not when keen eyes catch her looking at his wings again. Automatically her eyes return to Warren's and the demand there almost makes her speak the complete truth, but at the very end she's able to say an abridged version of what her senses tell her. "I want to be prepared."

"In case we need to call upon different avenues to help you. That's all."

And knowing she just lied (by omission) to her friend, Moonstar looks away and over to the window. She looks out that window for a second or two, before she rises from her seat, "I should probably go see if Ali needs help."

"And get in touch with Illyana too."

And run away, because Dani is definitely running away.


Usually it was Warren who was the one graciously smoothing over awkward silences and making everyone feel at ease. He could be arrogant, he could be insufferable, he could be self-centered, but when necessary he had the breeding and the training to also be the most thoughtful conversationalist and accommodating host.

There is so much he could do to put Dani at ease, right now. The right things to say are all at the forefront of his mind. It's not your fault. You did what you could. I would have done the same thing, given the choice all over again, because that thing was hurting you and it needed to be destroyed. Don't blame yourself, because it will all be all right and these wings will get better.

It's not your fault.

"What happened happened," is all he says. He does not have the energy, nor the heart, nor the magnanimity of spirit for more. Especially since he keeps catching her looking at his wings, and now he only has suspicion in place of all those things.

He regards her unblinkingly as she answers. It's the sort of stare which knows it is being given a lie, but is debating whether it cares enough to ferret out the truth.

In the end, those eyes turn away again, back out the window. Dani's excuse to go find Ali and Illyana draws a faint smile, of all things… though the expression has a hard, sardonic edge that suggests he's just brutally amused that she's running away.

"I'll be here," he says.


What happened happened.

It may not be true absolution, but those words of his offer something of a repreive to Danielle Moonstar's soul.

Enough that for a few seconds Moonstar actually feels some of the weight of her guilt lift. Only to have that guilt return two-fold along with an intense amount of shame.

Shame for wanting him to give her that forgiveness, even knowing just how terribly hurt he is, and knowing it's all her fault for the actions (or lack thereof) taken concerning the Demon Bear.

It keeps her from saying any more platitudes, or truly anything else, instead she just says, "I'll be back when I speak with Illyana." And while she should say an actual *goodbye* Moonstar can't quite get it out. All she can do is turn and take the few steps out of the room and once out of the room she fishes out her cellphone.

It's a quick message to Ali detailing her plan to speak with Illyana and then the Cheyenne does something she can never be proud of, she flees.

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