[The words seem to come from a great distance. He doesn't particularly want to wake up. There's something comfortable about unconsciousness, and he can't remember the specifics, but Chekov is relatively sure that he'll wake up in an unpleasant situation.
Unpleasant situ--right. He and Korra had made Hei incredibly angry, and...
And that explains why his body feels like a giant bruise, why his shoulders are throbbing with pain, why his hands are numb. But where's Korra? Hei had been terrifyingly merciless; there's no telling what he did to her. As tempting as slipping back into the warm, muffled depths of consciousness is, Pavel can't very well look for Korra if he doesn't wake up.
He forces his eyes open and immediately wishes that he hadn't bothered. His feet are dangling above the ground--much too far above the ground for his liking. One of the first lessons Starfleet teaches its cadets is how to survive a fall without dying, but Chekov has no desire to test his training. He has to take stock of the rest of his situation, find a way down that doesn't involve broken bones and ripped ligaments...
His mind clears slowly and, as it clears, it wants to focus on the hot pain shooting through his shoulders and the fact that the ground is much farther away than it should be. It takes a moment for him to notice that he's being poked.]
Korra?
[A wave of relief hits. She's alive and mobile, and those are both good signs. He'd been afraid of what Hei might do, considering how murderous his mood had been.]
no subject
[The words seem to come from a great distance. He doesn't particularly want to wake up. There's something comfortable about unconsciousness, and he can't remember the specifics, but Chekov is relatively sure that he'll wake up in an unpleasant situation.
Unpleasant situ--right. He and Korra had made Hei incredibly angry, and...
And that explains why his body feels like a giant bruise, why his shoulders are throbbing with pain, why his hands are numb. But where's Korra? Hei had been terrifyingly merciless; there's no telling what he did to her. As tempting as slipping back into the warm, muffled depths of consciousness is, Pavel can't very well look for Korra if he doesn't wake up.
He forces his eyes open and immediately wishes that he hadn't bothered. His feet are dangling above the ground--much too far above the ground for his liking. One of the first lessons Starfleet teaches its cadets is how to survive a fall without dying, but Chekov has no desire to test his training. He has to take stock of the rest of his situation, find a way down that doesn't involve broken bones and ripped ligaments...
His mind clears slowly and, as it clears, it wants to focus on the hot pain shooting through his shoulders and the fact that the ground is much farther away than it should be. It takes a moment for him to notice that he's being poked.]
Korra?
[A wave of relief hits. She's alive and mobile, and those are both good signs. He'd been afraid of what Hei might do, considering how murderous his mood had been.]
You look horrible.