Manfred von Karma (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
makethemguilty) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull2012-02-03 08:52 pm
makethemguilty) wrote in sirenspull2012-02-03 08:52 pm
[Video. Backdated to before Sirens. Mid-morning.]
[18 days since the incident—25 days since his arrival here, to this place. 3 weeks, total. 2 weeks of recovery, 6 days of which he'd spent incapacitated in Intensive Care.
Eighteen miserly, wasted days, in which he'd been confined to a sickbed awaiting death or relief from the damage he'd sustained from the bombing. His memories from that night are..unclear. Foggy. But he recalls a face. Edgeworth, standing over him. Touching him without his permission. And something more…A voice. Days have passed in a whirl for him. But he didn't expect anything less, given the extent of his injuries.
Now, the former prosecutor was breathing a little easier, but another four weeks of healing and rest and a regime of painkillers were the only things that would serve him well enough to survive. Regarding these circumstances, Manfred von Karma was not pleased in the very least.
A nurse hesitantly approached him; she was small, with red hair, and a kindly face. They would be discharging him from the hospital now, at which point he would require housing. As he glanced out the window the bright shine of sunlight indicated that thankfully the weather appeared to be fairly acceptable, if a little chilly. Birds were heard distantly on the tree limbs outside, singing. He seemed to pay them no heed.]
"Mister Von Karma? We're very pleased with your progress..We think it will be best to discharge you."
"Good. Will that be all?"
"Oh..Well, we know that this isn't much but please take this."
[There's a sound of something being slid into his pocket, but he doesn't seem to make any mention of it offhand. He didn't look directly at her, instead merely saying something that didn't quite make it to the receiver. The nurse left in a hurry, however.]
"Hmph."
[Von Karma was as much in possession of the facts as he was day and night. What was more, he didn't know what to make of the unsettled feeling which almost seemed...oddly familiar. Perhaps it was the way in which the nurse had addressed him.
The morning was otherwise, by all accounts, relatively uneventful. The doctor told him of their decision to release him, with which he'd immediately consented, and asked for his clothes to be returned to him. They were, unfortunately, still stained with dried blood from the incident. He wondered if they couldn't be dry cleaned and mended given he'd no other clothes to speak of...He opted for the moment to borrow a black jacket, a plain sweater, and a pair of pants a little too tight that had been laundered, left by previous patients in their storage, carrying his own clothes in a small package under his arm.]
'Thump', 'click', 'click. 'Thump'. 'Click, click'.
[His cane made a steady beat against the polished floor as he moved, his body stiff and a little awkward from the support brace bound about his fractured ribs, his hand gripping the handle hard as he carried himself towards the entrance. He clicked on the video feed now, looking perhaps a bit out of place since he wasn't wearing his usual jabot, but a plain turtleneck sweater instead.]
Strange. That almost seemed...But no matter. Recommendations: Tailors, and…A hotel, if possible. I suppose I could utilize the map on this phone if needed, but it would be more convenient to be told what this City offers.
[First things first, he would need to find available transport. Then, he could look for ways in which he could obtain proper clothes, as well as temporary residency. A hotel for a night, in all likelihood.
He was now standing outside on the street in front of the hospital, looking unconcerned.]
(OOC: If you want to bump into him on the street by all means.~ Action tags are welcome.)
Eighteen miserly, wasted days, in which he'd been confined to a sickbed awaiting death or relief from the damage he'd sustained from the bombing. His memories from that night are..unclear. Foggy. But he recalls a face. Edgeworth, standing over him. Touching him without his permission. And something more…A voice. Days have passed in a whirl for him. But he didn't expect anything less, given the extent of his injuries.
Now, the former prosecutor was breathing a little easier, but another four weeks of healing and rest and a regime of painkillers were the only things that would serve him well enough to survive. Regarding these circumstances, Manfred von Karma was not pleased in the very least.
A nurse hesitantly approached him; she was small, with red hair, and a kindly face. They would be discharging him from the hospital now, at which point he would require housing. As he glanced out the window the bright shine of sunlight indicated that thankfully the weather appeared to be fairly acceptable, if a little chilly. Birds were heard distantly on the tree limbs outside, singing. He seemed to pay them no heed.]
"Mister Von Karma? We're very pleased with your progress..We think it will be best to discharge you."
"Good. Will that be all?"
"Oh..Well, we know that this isn't much but please take this."
[There's a sound of something being slid into his pocket, but he doesn't seem to make any mention of it offhand. He didn't look directly at her, instead merely saying something that didn't quite make it to the receiver. The nurse left in a hurry, however.]
"Hmph."
[Von Karma was as much in possession of the facts as he was day and night. What was more, he didn't know what to make of the unsettled feeling which almost seemed...oddly familiar. Perhaps it was the way in which the nurse had addressed him.
The morning was otherwise, by all accounts, relatively uneventful. The doctor told him of their decision to release him, with which he'd immediately consented, and asked for his clothes to be returned to him. They were, unfortunately, still stained with dried blood from the incident. He wondered if they couldn't be dry cleaned and mended given he'd no other clothes to speak of...He opted for the moment to borrow a black jacket, a plain sweater, and a pair of pants a little too tight that had been laundered, left by previous patients in their storage, carrying his own clothes in a small package under his arm.]
'Thump', 'click', 'click. 'Thump'. 'Click, click'.
[His cane made a steady beat against the polished floor as he moved, his body stiff and a little awkward from the support brace bound about his fractured ribs, his hand gripping the handle hard as he carried himself towards the entrance. He clicked on the video feed now, looking perhaps a bit out of place since he wasn't wearing his usual jabot, but a plain turtleneck sweater instead.]
Strange. That almost seemed...But no matter. Recommendations: Tailors, and…A hotel, if possible. I suppose I could utilize the map on this phone if needed, but it would be more convenient to be told what this City offers.
[First things first, he would need to find available transport. Then, he could look for ways in which he could obtain proper clothes, as well as temporary residency. A hotel for a night, in all likelihood.
He was now standing outside on the street in front of the hospital, looking unconcerned.]
(OOC: If you want to bump into him on the street by all means.~ Action tags are welcome.)