[ for his part, mako has been keeping his distance. someone else would always attend to the next patient ejected from the room, and his nerves have been worn thin by their inescapable predicament to immerse himself any deeper. he leans against a wall of the lobby with his arms folded across his chest, his expression impassive. sometimes his brows furrow, betraying his discomfort.
as their numbers dwindle, however, there is no one left to fetch the latest victim. alone in the lobby, mako, sighing inwardly with the slump of his shoulders, approaches. the boy must be around his age, if not younger, but the similarity alone doesn't warrant unconditional trust.
reaching out, mako plants a firm hand on the edge of hope's nearest shoulder. ]
[ there's a soft gasp, and a bit of a jolt from hope when he feels the sudden hand on his shoulder — he's ... more than a little on edge, after what happened. but when he hears mako speak, it — isn't mako. instead, he can clearly hear his mother. ]
M-Mom?!
[ his voice sounds every bit as desperate as he really is.
and he's quick to jolt his head up to get a good look at the source of the voice. for a moment, he can almost see her — her face is there, definitely, but at the same time it's not, and it fades quick into being another young boy that he's looking at instead. and then the headache is hitting even harder, like it strained his head to make those things up. so he doubles over a little, confused beyond belief at what just happened. her voice was there, but that boy's face was there instead of hers, and — he's not even sure if he heard her voice anymore. what's going on?
it takes him a moment, then, to process what it is mako said a few seconds ago. and he'd feel rude, or awkward, not to answer him (he already feels like he's making some sort of a spectacle here). but he can't bring himself to look up, just continuing to clutch his head and shaking it, a little, steadily (like he doesn't want to agitate it). ]
[ mako manages an arch of his eyebrow. he holds his tongue as he retracts his hand, waiting for a proper response or another sign of awareness. when the boy doubles over, he waits that out, too. either way, he's losing time and he'll be the one to go through those doors next, after the patient who had been taken following hope's exit.
his immediate concern is the boy, who has finally responded, though not with much promise. mako's gaze travels to the bandages around hope's head, then to those around hope's legs.
there's no better place to be moving the boy, much less on injured feet. but assessing damage is important. ]
[ ah, this time he hears mako's actual voice. he's especially not sure what just happened with his mom's voice, then, but — at least now he's hearing the right thing. hopefully. and, for now, the headache recedes a little, enough for him to be able to stop clutching his head so much and sit up straighter. guh.
and he nods. ] Uh, y-yeah. [ though that's kind of obvious, he thought. ] My head and ... my legs. They're in a lot of pain.
[ it'd be hard not to feel them. (though he wishes he couldn't.)
if only he'd gotten ... an easier treatment. this is pretty brutal, especially for a kid. though his torturer made it obvious he liked that sort of thing. hhh. ]
[ big animals eat the little animals. kite is the big animal. they're the little animals. there's nothing that mako can do for hope. at the least, it's fortunate that hope has retained feeling in his legs. being a cripple is like signing a death sentence. (not that coming out with a limp is much better, but it is still better.)
logically, he should turn around and walk away after determining his lack of something to contribute. mako purses his lips instead, before he leans forward. ]
Don't talk, then. And don't move, either, unless you have to.
[ aaand, as mako leans forward, hope's mind is quick to change his face from that of a young boy, to none other than his mother again, and his voice as well once he speaks. and the illusion is all too real to him, as he gasps, his eyes widening quiiite a bit in shock. the last thing he needs is to constantly be reminded of his dead mother like this, geez. he can't handle the shock of it very well, and that'll probably be pretty obvious by the way it seems to shake him down to his very core, breathing a little more heavily all of a sudden, face contorting.
and it sparks another headache, too. though not as strong as the last one, it's still pretty painful and he's quick to clutch at his head again, sob.
he hears what mako says, at least, but he's too preoccupied with this, oops. ]
Why?
[ that's more addressed at what's happening with him seeing and hearing his mother, but it might not seem that way, since ... he's the only one who can see her. ]
"Why"? [ he sounds almost bemused. ] Because you'll make it worse.
[ but he has a feeling that the question means more than what he has interpreted on the surface. the reaction to a simple suggestion is too extreme. hope is in obvious pain. sighing, mako squares his shoulders as he balances himself on his knee and foot, a hand draped across his raised knee. ]
Look, if you need anything, just call me. I'll see what I can do. [ he gestures across the hall, toward a part of the wall a little ways down. ] I'll be right over here.
IT'S PERFECT
as their numbers dwindle, however, there is no one left to fetch the latest victim. alone in the lobby, mako, sighing inwardly with the slump of his shoulders, approaches. the boy must be around his age, if not younger, but the similarity alone doesn't warrant unconditional trust.
reaching out, mako plants a firm hand on the edge of hope's nearest shoulder. ]
Hey. Can you stand?
LIES
M-Mom?!
[ his voice sounds every bit as desperate as he really is.
and he's quick to jolt his head up to get a good look at the source of the voice. for a moment, he can almost see her — her face is there, definitely, but at the same time it's not, and it fades quick into being another young boy that he's looking at instead. and then the headache is hitting even harder, like it strained his head to make those things up. so he doubles over a little, confused beyond belief at what just happened. her voice was there, but that boy's face was there instead of hers, and — he's not even sure if he heard her voice anymore. what's going on?
it takes him a moment, then, to process what it is mako said a few seconds ago. and he'd feel rude, or awkward, not to answer him (he already feels like he's making some sort of a spectacle here). but he can't bring himself to look up, just continuing to clutch his head and shaking it, a little, steadily (like he doesn't want to agitate it). ]
I — I don't know. I haven't tried yet.
[ what with the pain, and all. ]
YOU CALLING ME A LIAR?
his immediate concern is the boy, who has finally responded, though not with much promise. mako's gaze travels to the bandages around hope's head, then to those around hope's legs.
there's no better place to be moving the boy, much less on injured feet. but assessing damage is important. ]
Do you feel anything?
YEAH. WHATCHU GONNA DO ABOUT IT
and he nods. ] Uh, y-yeah. [ though that's kind of obvious, he thought. ] My head and ... my legs. They're in a lot of pain.
[ it'd be hard not to feel them. (though he wishes he couldn't.)
if only he'd gotten ... an easier treatment. this is pretty brutal, especially for a kid. though his torturer made it obvious he liked that sort of thing. hhh. ]
NOT TAG BACK
logically, he should turn around and walk away after determining his lack of something to contribute. mako purses his lips instead, before he leans forward. ]
Don't talk, then. And don't move, either, unless you have to.
BUT YOU JUST DID YOU LIAR.
and it sparks another headache, too. though not as strong as the last one, it's still pretty painful and he's quick to clutch at his head again, sob.
he hears what mako says, at least, but he's too preoccupied with this, oops. ]
Why?
[ that's more addressed at what's happening with him seeing and hearing his mother, but it might not seem that way, since ... he's the only one who can see her. ]
I CAN STOP ANYTIME WITHOUT WARNING.
"Why"? [ he sounds almost bemused. ] Because you'll make it worse.
[ but he has a feeling that the question means more than what he has interpreted on the surface. the reaction to a simple suggestion is too extreme. hope is in obvious pain. sighing, mako squares his shoulders as he balances himself on his knee and foot, a hand draped across his raised knee. ]
Look, if you need anything, just call me. I'll see what I can do. [ he gestures across the hall, toward a part of the wall a little ways down. ] I'll be right over here.