It all started with Ahmet Benici. The World's lead scientist published his findings that the laws that govern our world would change so drastically human life would not be possible. It was his findings that urged the U.S government to begin a secret project, Project New World. The purpose of this project was to save humanity from its impending doom. So I invite you visitor, whoever you are it doesn't really matter. Come, sit down at your keyboard and tell me, what role are you going to play in this story?
Setting
There are many rumors and stories to be told about the city of Chase. Stories and tales rise from the mysterious forest that borders its northern side. There's big talk of some government project happening on the other side, but no one can know for sure. The small town has a rather sparse population of 20,000 people and is kept isolated from its neighboring town by Wyers lake.
In terms of time, this site will follow real time to accommodate for the short life expectancies of compound patients. The current month is December, the year 2062.
Note: Please note this site is rated PG-13.
Disclaimer: All pictures and images on this site belong to their rightful owners. We do not and will not claim to own them. However the site plot and idea belongs to Time Lapse, please do not steal!
Like some dying animal, Feral took to hiding out most of the time, trying to stay out of sight. It wasn't as if he was afraid of anyone. No, he was convinced he could still do some damage if someone pushed him far enough. Instead, he simply hated the way people gawked at him, almost as if they were taking his current state as an advantage to them, like they somehow overpowered him now. And of course he'd love to prove them wrong, but he knew he'd just make a fool of himself if he tried. So, naturally, that meant staying out of sight. Most of the time he'd spent inside his room until he was certain he was going mad, staring at the same four walls all fucking day, but he took to venturing to places less occupied. Like the library, for example! It was quiet and with most being on their freetime, there weren't a whole lot of patients or faculty inside, giving him a moment to just try an relax.
His strength was coming back to him, probably pretty well for normal people, but for him it was far too long. And of course there was the possibility still in the back of his mind, that he wouldn't ever get fully better, and his chances of him getting so diminished that he might as well give up. It wasn't a pleasant thought and kept him up all night thinking about it, dark bags under his eyes. But as tired as he might be, he wasn't interested in sleep, no matter how 'good' for him it might be. He was tired of the dreams and being stressed out over something so ridiculous.
He paused and yawned a bit before returning his hands to the wheels to move himself forward, through the aisles of books. He wasn't that much of a reader, but it'd give him something else to focus on, something to keep him awake. But every fucking book in this place was absolutely dull, he was convinced, and many more were far out of his reach thanks to the damn wheelchair, struggle as he might to stretch. "Goddammit!" he hissed loudly, receiving a curt 'shush' from somewhere else in the library. If only he had the energy to hunt down that annoying librarian.
"What the fuck am I doing?" he growled, running his hand over his face in exasperation. Maybe he should just go back to his room, stare at the ceiling for a couple hours before his next visit with the nurses. They'd assured him he was getting better but once again, he was far too impatient with the results.
What the hell was his world coming to? Feral wanted to escape and now Flint wanted to escape too. As much as the outside world intrigued him, as much as he wanted to find his own identity and prove he was someone worth noticing, Ephraim would never leave the compound. Beneath all the white sterile surfaces, the place had twisted him. Dark and foul it had warped his once innocent soul leaving him to drift from one great pain to the next. Even if the faculty held the doors wide open and told him he was free, Ephraim wouldn't budge. Because the compound he sought to escape was confined behind the calcium carbonate of his skull. This real physical place, it didn't bother him so much.
He wanted no part in this escape. As crazy as it sounded, Ephraim wanted to stay here. But Flint had poked, prodded, and pleaded until Ephraim had given in, promising he'd think about it. But did Feral know Flint was trying to include him in their plans? The moment the beastly freak had entered his thoughts, he wouldn't leave. Liberated from his wheelchair and searching for his next fix, it was only natural Ephraim couldn't stop thinking about Feral. Nothing could compare to the freak's brutality. The razor sharp claws and keen fangs were all Ephraim could think about as he wandered around the compound in a daze.
Never in a million years would he admit he was addicted to pain, or that he might have the slightest problem. Unsuccessfully he searched for Feral, growing more and more agitated as he went. In his experience, the freak preferred seclusion, or at least he always appeared somewhat detached from social crowds. The library was his last hope before he'd make plans of giving up entirely to go agitate someone else. Ephraim had hardly set foot in the library before he heard Feral's hiss. Arching a brow he cut through the rows of bookshelves, faintly distracted at the titles that caught his attention. The books had been appealing until he'd discovered most of the good parts were censored. What was the point in putting a book on the shelf when half the pages were gone and a quarter of the words missing?
Rounding a corner, Ephraim found himself a few feet from the freak he'd been looking for. Only, Feral was not how he'd imagined him to be. Taking a moment to stare, Ephraim observed Feral critically. He looked weak, hostile but weak. Ephraim himself wasn't looking to hot either, but at least he'd lost the wheelchair. His stitches had faded to angry red marks that laced his skin, itchy but bearable. Surely most of them would scar but Ephraim was hardly vain. One had to simply catch sight of his bedhead and wrinkled shirt to concur he really didn't give a damn about what he looked like, the polar opposite of his prissy brother.
"You need a foot stool or something?" He finally broke the silence, burying his hands in the confines of his pockets. Resting against the nearest bookshelf, he studied Feral once more. He would probably useless in helping Ephraim achieve what he'd had in mind of accomplishing today. What a drag this was turning out to be.
Feral had smelled him, heard him approaching, but didn't do anything other than consider the option of making his escape. Unfortunately, he'd literally backed himself into a corner. He'd have to get through Ephraim if he wanted to escape. But, honestly, he didn't want to look afraid or anything. He needed to salvage some of his pride. So there he remained, purposely ignoring him till he'd speak.
It was hard to tell whether he was being genuine or just being a total ass. Regardless, Feral responded with hostility. "You need an ass kicking?" he snarled back in response, glaring at him over his shoulder before he'd eventually turn himself around to face him. Oh look! He was better now, out of his wheelchair and looking less like an old stitched up doll! Figures. It was bad enough he was short normally, but this was just embarrassing. He really didn't need to deal with this kid right now. "Fuck off..." he growled before he began to wheel himself past him while the stable patient rested against the bookshelf.
He looked plenty weak, slowly regaining weight but still looking rather underfed, with dark pockets under his eyes and his hair also looking quite similar to Ephraim's, wild and untouched, covering most of his face. But even though he may have not looked like much, he was still determined to prove he wasn't someone to mess with. And though he may regret it later, if Ephraim was looking to start something, Feral would certainly finish it. It'd certainly help him vent all this pent up frustration!
"What the hell do you want?" he muttered as he wheeled past him, fully expecting him to follow. Didn't stop him before when he was healthy, he hardly thought the boy would be too intimidated to follow him now, as much as he hated to admit it.
Feral's words would bring an uncharacteristic smirk to his lips as though Ephraim secretly loved taunting him. Just the sound of his voice sent a chill down his spine, already his adrenaline surging. Awkwardly enough and ass kicking was just what he'd been hoping for. But, for now, Feral looked all bark and no bite. He'd have to change that. Really the freak should be honored Ephraim kept showing up, it meant he had value in his eyes. While Ephraim genuinely liked Feral as a person, he needed the thrill more than he needed the relationship and the risk of their 'friendship' didn't occur once as he followed Feral.
The freak's question was met with a snort as Ephraim barred his way. In one long stride, he brought himself in front of Feral, planting his foot on one of the footrests to bring him to a jarring stop. Unless the freak wanted to go backward, Ephraim didn't plan on letting Feral go anywhere. "For someone in a wheelchair, you're awfully rude. Didn't think that one through did you?" Pushing his weight against his foot, Ephraim shoved Feral's chair backward. With luck, the idiots wouldn't have applied the brakes and he'd only go rolling back the way he'd just come.
Taking the opportunity to advance on the freak, Ephraim gave him a hard stare. His eyes gleamed with something akin to excitement, shielding the faintest look of concern. Ephraim doubted he could hurt Feral even if he tried. He didn't have any special abilities and he wasn't particularly strong, but still. Given the fact he didn't know the full extent of his injuries, perhaps he should take it easy? Nah, any moment now Feral would blow up anyways. "I heard you're Benici's new fuck toy." Nodding to the wheelchair his lips twisted in a cruel smirk. "Couldn't handle being his bitch?"
Ephraim was asking for it, he really was. But after his latest treatment, he'd been in recovery for what felt like an eternity. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd caused a ruckus. He was agitated, impatient, and this was long overdue.
Honestly? He was rather taken back by such a bold action, glaring up at Ephraim as he effectively blocked him from moving forward. Damn these wheels! Didn't matter how strong he was when there was no way he could move forward! And Feral certainly didn't want to back up either, further trap himself, but there was hardly any stopping it when Ephraim took it another step further, shoving him back. Feral had tried to block the movement but it was far too late and the action only caused the palms of his hands to burn as the rubber brushed against them. Well it was quite obvious what this fucking brat wanted, Feral snarling at him. As much as he'd like to fuck him over, part of him didn't want to humor Ephraim while another was cautious about his own condition. Course, that flew right out the window as soon as the boy opened his mouth again.
Mocking him for the wheelchair was bad enough, but implying he was 'Benici's bitch' seemed to do the trick at sending Feral over the edge, his grip on his chair tightening as a wild look shown in his tired eyes. Surprisingly, it didn't take much for the beast to lunge out of his chair, sending the damned thing crashing into the bookshelf further behind them, knocking books off. It did take something, like causing Feral to immediately feel dizzy again, but he got through it, far too angry to take his well-being into consideration. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" he roared as he swung with those dangerous claws of his, aiming for whatever he could reach. He was smaller, weaker than before, but he was still decently strong compared to human standards. He just needed to pin the little shit down and he'd have no hope of getting out of this one!
No doubt the poor librarian had heard all the fuss and he heard hurried footsteps make their way over. Had it not been for the gasp, he wouldn't even have noticed she was there, so intent on hurting Ephraim that his focus was entirely on him. She hadn't lingered long, already hurrying off to find a guard. Better hope she found one soon, as Feral didn't plan on letting his 'prey' slip away this time, lunging at Ephraim again to try and tackle him.
Benici's Bitch it was. Not a single short comment could make Feral freak so fast. The moment he saw the wild untamed look, his smirk lost its luster, his eyes burning with something far more sinister. He needed this. But as much as Ephraim wanted what was coming, he still had the human tendency to jerk away as Feral swiped at him. The instinctive motion may have saved his arm from dismemberment, but he still felt the stinging pain of Feral's claws raking along his side. Mouth opened in a soundless 'o', Ephraim seemed to watch it all happen in slow motion. The tearing of his shirt was hardly a concern, even the tearing of hs own skin did little to raise his heartbeat. It was the sight of his own blood welling up from the marks that made the excruciating bite of pain even sharper.
Pressing his palm against the wound, Ephraim gritted his teeth. The bodily salt of his hand caused it to sting, but he wasn't complaining. Now that he saw the wound he was a little relieved he'd taken a step back. "Could you please not rip pout parts of me that are supposed to stay inside of me? I mean who needs internal organs I know, they're just a bloody pain to put back i-" His breath caught in his throat as Feral slammed into him. Reaching a hand out for a bookshelf to steady himself with, Ephraim braced his feet. Of course, when it came down to strength, Feral overpowered him in every way and Ephraim was left to scramble.
"Also," Ephraim grunted as he fought to keep his footing, nails digging sharply into the closest bookshelf. Already he could feel the splinters digging into his skin. It hurt. "You have teeth too you know, I've seen them do some damage. Why don't you put them to use 'Little Bitch'?" Unless Feral intended to rip his heart outwith those claws - something Ephraim would rather avoid - he wouldn't mind a scar that didn't look like his others. Twisted perhaps, but Feral's wild look only egged him on.
Ephraim might as well have been talking to a brick wall, his little chat mid-fight not being acknowledged in the slightest. In fact, perhaps the only acknowledgement it could have got was when the beast slammed into him, attempting to shut him up. Unfortunately, try as he might, Feral wasn't able to get him on the ground as he'd have liked, the boy stubbornly managing to keep on his feet, though barely. Course, while Ephraim struggled to keep standing, Feral took the opportunity to grab a hold of him, keep him from squirming away by digging his claw-like nails into his skin as he grabbed the boy's side and his shoulder.
He didn't know who's heart beat he was hearing, but it was getting loud, deafening, almost. But he did manage to hear that final comment, the beast snarling again. He really needed no second invitation! He aimed for his throat, planning on tearing it out, but had miscalculated. Instead his bite landed on the area between the base of his neck and his shoulder and Feral bit down hard, his fangs digging in with terrifying ease. It was a miracle he didn't tear completely through!
He didn't stop there though, holding Ephraim steady against him as he tore into the bite, mouth filling with blood. It was almost satisfying, Feral not having tasted blood in what seemed like forever. It even caused him to close his eyes... And then slump against him. He might have exerted himself a bit too much and was struggling to maintain consciousness, his heart pounding in his chest. The way he was leaning against him, Ephraim would probably be able to feel it himself.
Despite going in too deep, Feral didn't back down, though his grip and even his bite had lessened a bit, to the point the boy could probably just shove him off if he really wanted to. Feral continued to growl, a weak but constant sound as he tried to maintain his dominance. He didn't want to look weak.
Feral's torture would elicit a cry of pain from Ephraim who took to furiously biting his lip in an attempt to withhold another cry. Adrenaline flooded his senses, drawing his focus from his loosening grip to the racing of his heart. A white hot pain would fill his vision as Feral sunk his teeth far too close to his throat then he would have liked. Was the freak trying to kill him? Ephraim wasn't suicidal, he had no intentions of killing himself. But if Feral delivered the final blow...well...he wasn't going to sit here begging for his life. What was it worth anyway?
The pain Ephraim felt couldn't compare with anything he'd experienced to the date. The scientists did a crappy job in comparison to the freak before him, but as Feral slumped against him things just got...weird. Had he run out of energy? He had been in a wheelchair, but Ephraim was uncomfortable with the freak leaning on him while in the process of mutilating him. What did he want? A kiss or something? It just turned things into some twisted masochistic fest which Ephraim was not at all about. With a weak shove, Ephraim stumbled back a few paces, hoping to dislodge the little leech.
"What's the matter Little Bitch? Tired already?" Was that all he had in him? Ephraim's blood roared in his ears, each pulse sent a fresh wave of pain throughout his body. The claw and fang marks burned him, all the while welling up with a blood that stained his once white shirt. Resting his hands against his knees, Ephraim took a moment to breathe deeply, just breath through the pain. Despite his weakened state, he'd never felt more alive! His eyes shone each aspect of his world more vivid and detailed than before. The adrenaline made him feel as light as a feather though he'd made no quick effort to get out of Feral's should the freak come at him again.
Feral felt him move against him and his growls grew louder, sinking his teeth a bit further. Ephraim's shoulder was undoubtedly a mess after the beast had mauled him. Fortunately it didn't seem like it would go much further than that, Feral trying to use the last of his energy towards not passing out. So it was why he was dislodged rather easily, Feral holding himself up by the bookshelf as he continued to growl, mouth covered in blood. He was panting though, relying on the stability of the shelf to keep on his feet and it annoyed him to no end. But if that wasn't bad enough, Ephraim would start off again, taunting him.
"F-fuck off..." he growled again, his ears pulsing with the sound of his own heart. He needed to sit down, try to relax, but that wasn't happening. What the hell was this kid's problem anyway?! He knew he was a fucking prick but what was he trying to accomplish with this shit? Maybe he thought he was bigger than him now that Feral was the one in the wheelchair? Did it kind of hurt knowing Ephraim might have the upper hand in this situation. Strength didn't amount to nothing if you didn't have the endurance to pull it off. The one who was still standing, almost looking invigorated, was Ephraim, after all.
He pushed himself off the bookshelf, stumbling a bit but managing to somehow keep on his feet, glaring daggers at Ephraim. "What the fuck do you want from me?!" he went on, actually sounding.. upset? Feral had been getting rather stressed out and it seemed it was starting to catch up to him. But almost as soon as the outburst came out, he hardened again, eyes turning cold. Fucking pathetic. He growled at the thought before pressing forward, almost seeming like he was going to attack again but instead he shoved past him, leaving the wheelchair behind. Had to salvage some pride, after all, even if he could barely stand without his legs shaking beneath him.
[OOC: So moody u3u He blames all the meds they've put him on lol]
Eyes bright with pain, Ephraim watched Feral in silence. He didn't look towards his shoulder, whatever mess awaited him would do wonders to his sensitive stomach. No, he didn't need to see it to know it was bad. The sensation was simply enough. Heart thrumming, breath heaving, Ephraim waited for his world to stop spinning, hardly aware of Feral gathering his strength. For now, the pain the freak had left him with, it was enough. Leaning against the bookshelf, Ephraim slowly sunk to the floor, drawing his knees against his chest.
Given Feral appeared weak, Ephraim's gesture may have come across as submissive. He'd poked the bear, he'd suffered the consequence and now, he just wanted to wait it out. Eyes watering, he brushed his hand across his eyes, his human nose able to catch the smell of flesh. A small whimper escaped his lips as he tried to wiggle his fingers, the small movement sent a ripple effect of pain towards his shoulder. Rather than fear him, it only made Feral's appeal grow in his eyes. Well, not Feral per say but the beast he manifested inside.
The sadistic smirk had long ago taken its absence, leaving Ephraim to grimace as his arrogance was quickly replaced. One might guess for a moment he had multiple personalities, he knew his therapist had toyed with the ridiculous notion. For someone who understood the human psyche, it would prove a sensible hypothesis. But all this talk of mental health only peaked Ephraim's annoyance. But the question remained, why was the patient so determined to offend others -particularly Feral-, only to back away and remain submissive after?
Shooting Feral an apologetic glance, Ephraim merely shook his head. "Nothing." Feral had already given him exactly what he wanted and there would never be any reason to explain why he'd come in the first place. Watching Feral stomp past, Ephraim flinched away from him. But the freak didn't seem interested in kicking him when he was down, leaving Ephraim to crawl towards the neglected wheelchair, plopping himself inside. He began trailing after Feral, using one hand and both feet to push himself along. In the end, it worked best to turn his back to the freak, using his feet to slowly wheel himself backward. "Hey, wait!" He protested. He couldn't just leave the wheelchair. He'd collapse without it.
[OOC: Get in touch with your feelings, Feral //shot]
No, as much as he'd like to finish what he started, it simply wasn't worth it. Ephraim was down, whimpering and squirming. He just couldn't understand what his obsession was, especially for him to curl up in a pathetic mess afterwards. So even if he had the strength, he probably would have lost interest. Instead, he decided he needed to get out of there. Guards would show up soon to investigate and he wasn't eager to mess with them, growling at the thought as he wiped away at the blood around his mouth. It wouldn't come off so easily, of course, but might as well try, the smell making his stomach growl in protest.
Each step was cautious, slow and careful to make sure he didn't simply fall flat on his face. He reached out to steady himself on the bookshelves as he walked past them, but even then didn't get too far before he heard the little squeaks from his wheelchair as Ephraim called for him, following along. Kid couldn't even give him a break?
"Why?" he snarls, keeping his eyes ahead and otherwise ignoring him. He just said he didn't want anything so why was he still there? He scowled at the thought, reaching up to rub the place over his heart. It had gotten a little better, but it still gave him trouble from time to time. It was a very morose way of thinking about it, but maybe he would have been better off not being revived. At least then he could avoid this embarrassment. Ah, but he supposed there was still some use to him. Of course the white coats wouldn't let him go.
Almost as soon as that thought entered his mind though, he shook it out, not wanting that to linger on his mind anymore than it had to. He wasn't suicidal by any means, but he really was convinced the whole world was against him.
[OOC:Lol the poor guy though. Sorry I haven't been on much, been busy getting school in line and packing before a big trip :/]
The sturdy frame beneath him suddenly seemed a little too good to let go of. Ephraim was just a little too tempted to remain slumped over in the chair until he could gather his strength, but one look at Feral's stumbling figure assured him the freak needed it more. Almost reluctantly Ephraim rose to his feet, swaying from side to side as he turned the wheelchair towards Feral. "Sit, before you pass out or something." He didn't expect the freak to listen, but taking out his kneecaps and kicking him down as always an option too.
But Feral might as well give in and accept the wheelchair, the guards might be less likely to assume him dangerous if he did. Ephraim on the other hand settled for leaning against the nearest bookshelf, eyelids drooping beneath the weight of his agony. It pained him and yet it fulfilled him. He would have liked to talk about it, to explain to Feral why, and yet that meant doing two things he considered taboo. It meant opening up to the freak and talking about himself. He'd rather be known as a freak then be known.
So Ephraim fell silent, cracking an eye open to see whether or not Feral intended to listen to him or simply ignore him. The wound at his side continued to bleed profusely, his shoulder refusing to be outdone. Some part of him warned him he needed to go to the infirmary, something about blood loss. But Ephraim didn't look too concerned, he might as well have had all the time in the world.
And yet here Ephraim was, trying to act nice after successfully managing to piss him off. Why? He just couldn't make sense of it all and tried so hard to understand why, but all it did was tire him out more. "Fuck. Off." he growled again, as if saying it the third time would get through to him. It wouldn't of course. He knew better. "Real funny worrying about me right now." he chuckled bitterly. Ephraim might change his mind if he saw what he did to his shoulder. They were going to have a fun time patching that up.
He continued walking until he stumbled, falling on his hands and knees. "Goddammit..." he hissed under his breath. Just give him a little dignity? That was all he asked! But, no. Here he was, unable to even stand straight, and the fucker he just mauled is feeling sorry for him. It should have made him feel good, that someone cared, but right now it just made him feel even worse about himself. How the mighty have fallen. Literally!
And the worse thing about this? He was fucking thinking how Ephraim had better get to the infirmary. Unfortunately he wasn't going to be much help this time around, unable to help himself. He sighed at the thought, resigning to his place on the floor and simply lying down, too tired to get up. He just needed to try and calm down, relax. Which was actually rather difficult to do. "Get the fuck out of here." he muttered, not really sounding angry, surprisingly enough. Kill two birds with one stone? Ephraim could get himself help and Feral could just take it easy before the guards finally showed up to take him away.
Ephraim closed his eyes as Feral growled, even a weak rumble seemed to increase the throbbing in his shoulder as though the wounds Feral had inflicted would still respond to his irritation. Clenching his shoulder tightly, Ephraim gritted his teeth. It did wonders to increase the pain but little to stem the blood flow. Surprisingly he'd been trying to accomplish the latter. "Swallow your pride a moment will you?" He muttered in response to Feral's grumpy attitude. "What's more humiliating anyway? Just get in the damn chair before someone else makes you. Or did you want the guards to sweep you off your feet?" The subtle jab wasn't so much to evoke his wrath this time as it was to urge him back into the chair.
Watching Feral stumble to his knees, Ephraim heaved a heavy sigh. Pushing himself away from the bookshelf, he slowly pushed the wheelchair along until the wheels bumped against Feral's heels. A dizzying wave passed through the patient and he leaned against the chair heavily, scrunching his eyes shut. It would only be thanks to Feral -should he not move- that the chair didn't roll forwards sending Ephraim flat on the ground. Now that would've just been awkward.
Feral's sharp comment would only be met by the persistent nudge of the wheelchair as Ephraim continuously bumped it against his heels. "Just get in already. I'm not going to push you the whole way there," wherever there was. He was the one who needed to get to the infirmary, not Feral...or at least the freak could probably do with some rest. Ephraim on the other hand- a sudden twing in his shoulder caused him to flinch, his gaze catching the edge of the wound. How was his shoulder even attached? The ruined flesh and crimson bloodbath was enough to make him nauseous, leaving him to lean on the wheelchair again as he squeezed his eyes shut tight. "Shit..." If the room didn't stop spinning, he was going to puke. "For future reference, could you please refrain from...from ripping my arms off. I need those you know," he worked his jaw in attempt to rid himself of the rising bile.
So he made sense? Feral still didn't want to hear it, even if he made a valid point. Swallowing his pride? Impossible! He couldn't do it even if he wanted to. But then Ephraim had to poke him again and had it not been so conflicting, it certainly would have done the trick. Instead it just left him in a standstill, not sure what to do. Course it didn't matter his decision since he'd end up falling down anyway, just making the truth of the whole situation sting more.
Before long he'd feel the wheelchair bumping against him persistently, Ephraim still trying to convince him to get in. He had to give him credit for that, he supposed. Course if he kept at it, Feral might actually get enough energy to attack him again. Unlikely... But it was still a nice thought! It did at least encourage him to try and sit up at least, glaring over Ephraim once he was able to look back. He glared at first, before noticing he really didn't look too good. Ah geez, he wasn't going to throw up again was he? It wasn't even that bad... Well, for Feral's standards. Ephraim was quite lucky to still have an arm.
"You get in the fucking chair." he growls. "And if you didn't talk so much..." he paused, cringing a bit. "You wouldn't have to worry about losing your arm." Really, he could admit he simply miscalculated, but that would probably damage him more than anything. He growled as he pulled himself to try and stand, struggling a bit but finally managing, though not daring to take a step or remove his grip from the bookshelf. "I'm fine.." he insisted. Didn't have an excuse for what happened, but he wasn't going to admit anything to him. The fact he was even talking to him was surprising.
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