Torin Byrd | Human AU | Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bravelyplucked) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-09-03 06:44 pm
bravelyplucked) wrote in thecapitol2015-09-03 06:44 pm
Entry tags:
[Open]
Who | Torin Byrd and you!
What | The Mini Arena wasn't kind to Torin, but Torin is sick of the hospital. Surely wheelchair theft will solve his problems.
Where | Various places, see prompts.
When | Sometime after the Mini Arena.
Warnings/Notes | Discussion of Arena violence/injury/trauma.
[A - District 2 Suites]
Torin is reasonably certain that the gossip magazines are going to have a field day with this, but for once, he doesn't care. Let Celebrus think whatever it wants to think, he's getting out of the hospital today, even if part of that escape involves being talented at feigning sleep and another part of it involves what is essentially grand theft wheelchair. The end of Torin's time in the Arena hadn't been a kind one. He'd made it all the way to the prehistoric area, an area he should have conquered, should have been able to turn to his advantage to win--
--only to have his time there cut short by another meteor shower. He'd had injuries heading into that last part, but his second brush with the meteor shower had left him battered and broken in more ways than one. He was fortunate enough not to have been hit directly in a joint this time, but he'd still suffered several lacerations and broken bones. He was lucky the meteor shower hadn't killed him this time, and during the earliest parts of his hospital stay when they'd been pumping him full of painkillers, he was pretty convinced it had. But he was off of the worst of those now, and he was feeling better. Not completely healed, but better.
Given the severity of his injuries, no one should really be expecting him to roll himself into the District 2 suites fresh out of the hospital and looking not unlike he has escaped rather than been released. But here he is, coming "home" with his right foot encased in a cast up to his knee and his head wrapped in bandages.
[B - Training Center]
At this point in his life, Torin probably looks not unlike some weird Bond villain...not that he'd know what that is. Though his legs are still covered by a blanket and the outline of the cast can be seen poking out from underneath said blanket, his top half is wearing one of his trademark white suits, complete with a hat that's not quite managing to hide bandages wrapped around his head. Torin feels more like himself than he's felt in a long time, and he's sitting there in that wheelchair with an iguana in his lap. The iguana, which is wearing a harness so he can't run off on Torin, doesn't seem to mind. It's happily snacking on a salad Torin has obtained for it somewhere.
So now that he's back and trying to pretend like everything is just fine despite the fact that he's largely confined to a wheelchair, looking a little worn out, and moving a bit more stiffly than usual, there is only one thing for Torin to do--wheel himself to the Training Center to see what all he's missed. District 2's Tributes had better not be slacking off in his absence, though he doesn't think Leo would allow that. He's a bit of an odd sight, but he's trying to play it off like nothing is wrong. And if he gets nosy about training that doesn't involve one of his Tributes, well, he's been cooped up in the hospital for too long. He's bored.
[C - Outside the Tribute Center]
Yes, it's good to be outside again. After his stint at the Training Center is completed, Torin decides to take a walk. (Or is it a roll?) Whatever, he's still got the iguana in his lap, and he's rolling down the sidewalk, glad to be out in the fresh air.
"Mr. Byrd! Mr. Byrd!" The frustrated, scandalized tones of the hospital workers make Torin wince, and he's about to try to make a speedy wheelchair getaway when one of them catches the back of the chair. "Mr. Byrd, you were not cleared to leave the hospital!" No, this worker doesn't seem at all willing to let him go.
The hospital worker that has not grabbed the chair comes around the front of the chair to confront Torin, though he's flinching back at the sight of the iguana. Mini Arena loss or no, Torin sitting there with some sort of reptile in his lap is clearly intimidating the guy. Torin Byrd has a reputation where animals are concerned, and this guy wants no part of the business end of that reputation.
"Careful, he bites," Torin cheerfully tells the man. "Both on cue and off." The man visibly pales at that. The iguana seems unmoved. To the woman holding his chair, Torin adds, "You're overreacting. I'm fine." He doesn't really look it; the day's exertion has been more exercise than he's had in some time.
She grits her teeth. "No, Mr. Byrd, you're not taking care of yourself. Do we need to call your sister down here?"
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
It's clear someone needs help here, be it Torin or the orderlies seeking to wheel his stubborn butt back to the hospital.
What | The Mini Arena wasn't kind to Torin, but Torin is sick of the hospital. Surely wheelchair theft will solve his problems.
Where | Various places, see prompts.
When | Sometime after the Mini Arena.
Warnings/Notes | Discussion of Arena violence/injury/trauma.
[A - District 2 Suites]
Torin is reasonably certain that the gossip magazines are going to have a field day with this, but for once, he doesn't care. Let Celebrus think whatever it wants to think, he's getting out of the hospital today, even if part of that escape involves being talented at feigning sleep and another part of it involves what is essentially grand theft wheelchair. The end of Torin's time in the Arena hadn't been a kind one. He'd made it all the way to the prehistoric area, an area he should have conquered, should have been able to turn to his advantage to win--
--only to have his time there cut short by another meteor shower. He'd had injuries heading into that last part, but his second brush with the meteor shower had left him battered and broken in more ways than one. He was fortunate enough not to have been hit directly in a joint this time, but he'd still suffered several lacerations and broken bones. He was lucky the meteor shower hadn't killed him this time, and during the earliest parts of his hospital stay when they'd been pumping him full of painkillers, he was pretty convinced it had. But he was off of the worst of those now, and he was feeling better. Not completely healed, but better.
Given the severity of his injuries, no one should really be expecting him to roll himself into the District 2 suites fresh out of the hospital and looking not unlike he has escaped rather than been released. But here he is, coming "home" with his right foot encased in a cast up to his knee and his head wrapped in bandages.
[B - Training Center]
At this point in his life, Torin probably looks not unlike some weird Bond villain...not that he'd know what that is. Though his legs are still covered by a blanket and the outline of the cast can be seen poking out from underneath said blanket, his top half is wearing one of his trademark white suits, complete with a hat that's not quite managing to hide bandages wrapped around his head. Torin feels more like himself than he's felt in a long time, and he's sitting there in that wheelchair with an iguana in his lap. The iguana, which is wearing a harness so he can't run off on Torin, doesn't seem to mind. It's happily snacking on a salad Torin has obtained for it somewhere.
So now that he's back and trying to pretend like everything is just fine despite the fact that he's largely confined to a wheelchair, looking a little worn out, and moving a bit more stiffly than usual, there is only one thing for Torin to do--wheel himself to the Training Center to see what all he's missed. District 2's Tributes had better not be slacking off in his absence, though he doesn't think Leo would allow that. He's a bit of an odd sight, but he's trying to play it off like nothing is wrong. And if he gets nosy about training that doesn't involve one of his Tributes, well, he's been cooped up in the hospital for too long. He's bored.
[C - Outside the Tribute Center]
Yes, it's good to be outside again. After his stint at the Training Center is completed, Torin decides to take a walk. (Or is it a roll?) Whatever, he's still got the iguana in his lap, and he's rolling down the sidewalk, glad to be out in the fresh air.
"Mr. Byrd! Mr. Byrd!" The frustrated, scandalized tones of the hospital workers make Torin wince, and he's about to try to make a speedy wheelchair getaway when one of them catches the back of the chair. "Mr. Byrd, you were not cleared to leave the hospital!" No, this worker doesn't seem at all willing to let him go.
The hospital worker that has not grabbed the chair comes around the front of the chair to confront Torin, though he's flinching back at the sight of the iguana. Mini Arena loss or no, Torin sitting there with some sort of reptile in his lap is clearly intimidating the guy. Torin Byrd has a reputation where animals are concerned, and this guy wants no part of the business end of that reputation.
"Careful, he bites," Torin cheerfully tells the man. "Both on cue and off." The man visibly pales at that. The iguana seems unmoved. To the woman holding his chair, Torin adds, "You're overreacting. I'm fine." He doesn't really look it; the day's exertion has been more exercise than he's had in some time.
She grits her teeth. "No, Mr. Byrd, you're not taking care of yourself. Do we need to call your sister down here?"
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
It's clear someone needs help here, be it Torin or the orderlies seeking to wheel his stubborn butt back to the hospital.