..But The Second Mouse Gets The Cheese

Jun 14, 2018
..wake up..

A bubbling stream fluttered into the tank as the figure breathed out gently in her slumber. The valves in the mask allowed the exhalation to stream out without flooding the inside of the breath mask.

..WakE uP..

The figure stirred in the tilted medical recovery tank; an involuntary movement due to the beginning impulses of consciousness shaking off the drugged haze. A flutter of eyelids turned into a slight worried scrunch. Many micro expressions flickered over her face as the haze lifted.

..WAKE UP..!

With a sudden jolt the girl in the tank awoke to her inner voice echoing an alarm in her head. Lunam Lumine blinked in the fluid-filled tube-bed she found herself in and for a split second she had flashbacks to an earlier time; a painful time. With a panic she felt herself struggling against the fluid environment of the tank-bed as she slapped at the edges of the clear tube front. A finger found purchase on some half-hidden button and the bed began emptying it's contents through drains by her feet. The world cleared of it's watery haze as the tube's front popped open and the girl was greeted to the shrill screech of bio-monitors clearly showing her spiking but slowly receding heart rate and brainwaves.

The noise was too much for the young woman, who covered her ears for a minute as she went through mental exercise after mental exercise to calm the raging thump-thump in her chest. She was lying on her side in the opened bed while this happened and as the bright light of the room dimmed to something manageable to the newly-awakened pilot she noticed that she was in a medical facility's recovery room. She recognized the iconography of Terra Sentinel here and there as her heart finally stopped trying to batter her ribs to dust; allowing her to begin calmly looking around the room more thoroughly. She seemed to be alone, all curled up and shivering in the comparatively cold room. That suited her as she worked through the rest of her exercises and finally the alarms stopped their yelling.

A minute passed as Lunam just lay there going through her memories and trying to piece why she was in a recovery suite. As she finally propped herself up by the elbow a sharp pain in her upper right side elicited a hiss through clenched teeth. Reaching with her left hand she felt at a faint scar line a few inches below her armpit and noted with pursed lips that there was a new stiffness to the mark that had gone away for years. Something must have happened... My Boosted Child surgeries acting up? ..Crap! There was something to do! Her thoughts caused such a twitch in her brainwaves the alarm tied to them beeped warningly at her.

She clicked her tongue at it and went about freeing herself from the bed and it's nest of sensor wires that studded her flesh with medical adhesive pads. Careful of her newly-fresh scarring the blonde stood up on shaky legs, clinging to the side of the bed as she regained strength in her limbs. Must have been out for a while if I'm this stiff.. Wonder how long?

Lunam shivered again in the cold air; and upon looking down found she was almost naked save for a medical strap across her small bust and a matching set of what could generously be called 'panties', both of a permeable fabric for use in fluid recovery beds like she'd just climbed out of. Now finally fully awake - and looking for a towel to dry herself off so she could get real clothes on - she looked about to see what she could see.
Jun 14, 2018
Of course, there was no towel within immediate reach. Typical. Tensing her legs a little bit to test their muscle strength Lunam finally released the edge of the bed and wobbled as she took a few experimental steps towards the larger area of the room. Even now she could feel the blood flowing through her and her surgically-and-chemically-altered physiology kicking in now that she was awake and reviving the source of her usual seemingly-boundless energy. Many people assumed that Lunam had always been bouncy and full of energy - and for the most part they were right - but the level of activity she usually participated in was a result of the Directory's inhuman experiments on her to turn her into what they'd refereed to as a "Boosted Child".

The needles, the endless grueling training regimens, staring up at surgical light arrays as she drifted off over her young life... Waking up from medical procedures always put her in a meek mood. Walking amongst the facilities gave her a shiver that she couldn't attribute to the cold-feeling room and her lack of significant clothing. Her lips pursed again as her cheeks puffed out in what could be called her annoyed face - a cute expression from the petite young woman but there was no one about to see it. Come on, Lunam.. This isn't like you! Find that towel!

Snapping herself out of her fugue Lunam finally located the room's exit and padded out of the recovery room without incident. It didn't take her long to find the dressing room for patients that were being discharged or could undress themselves despite their injuries or illnesses. The layout was coming back to her - though she was as infrequent a guest as she could manage over her time with Terra Sentinel - and she moved to a particular locker that had been set aside for her. A quick thumbprint opened to door and to her surprise there was one of her dresses hanging up ready to go. Her blue eyes blinked in surprise at this. The fabric even smelled freshly laundered even though she knew it hadn't been dirty before she'd apparently had issues.

"Someone seems to have guessed pretty good. I'll give it a seven out of ten, since no one was there when I woke up." Turning from the locker, Lunam quickly found a towel in the linen closet this room had and vigorously dried herself off. After doffing the 'garments' she currently had on into the local hamper along with the now seriously-damp towel, on went the undergarments and finally the dress. Being a petite framed person and loving her own theme, Lunam's wardrobe was at least eighty-five percent dresses that could be called the "lolita" style and this simple cream-white-with-green-ivy-patterned number fit quite nicely into her line of clothing taste. Her bag was noticeably absent. That would have to be rectified posthaste.

Now properly armored for the day ahead, the blonde spun on her mary jane'd heel and started off at a now-confident trot; the tktktktktktk of her shiny black shoes echoing into the empty corridor she found herself back in. It was odd that no one was here. She was covering a good distance with her usual speedy stride as her skirt swished back and forth pertly, and as she went there was a growing trepidation about the silence of this section of the facility. Surely she hadn't been abandoned? Something had to have been going on.

Her gait brought her to an in-facility communications terminal. Punching in a few commands into the accompanying keyboard she found a good reason for people not to be here to see her wake: the assault on the Universal Network facility had begun. A very unladylike string of words echoed out from her place in the corridor. Damnit, she'd wanted to be in on that! She scuffed at the floor with her left heel eliciting a little squeak from the sole of her shoe in frustration. Her anger passed, though... They couldn't be expected to delay for her. It was too important. Far too much at stake.

Poking at the keyboard again she pulled up her personal section of the network to check for messages and announce to whomever might be watching the feeds that she was awake and back on duty.