Justin stirred in the soft bed....wait, this isn't the couch in my apartment...and sat bolt upright when the realization that, no, he wasn't home but had been brought someplace else burned its way through the dull aching insided his head.
Somewhere else....
The Four Seasons. He remembered Rook saying as much. The Four Seasons. The clean room with its noticeable lack of stale cigarette and pizza box odors was a far cry from what he was accustomed to.
Sitting up, he winced as the pain in his side reminded him of the previous evening's activities -- or maybe it had been longer. He wasn't sure. The sudden movement made him feel lightheaded and he fell back onto the pillow. Staring up at the plasterwork on the ceiling, he wondered how bad it really was.
How long have I been out?
Looking down beneath the covers, he saw that somebody had attended to the worst of his injuries. He wondered how they had any sort of knowlege as to how his body actually worked, or if it was a lucky guess. He had broken ribs before in his snowboarding activities - maybe that's what he had going on here. He was pretty sure that they didn't have a mechanic specializing in Arcadia-forged cyborgs on call.
Justin, it looks like you won a concussion. Cracked ribs too. And he was pulling his punches....I think.
If Rook was pulling his punches, then Justin was pretty sure he didn't want to see what the other Elemental was fully capable of.
It had been worth it. Even if he didn't earn his way into the Summer Court, then at least he could identify what needed the most work on a personal and skill set level.
He couldn't sleep. Wincing as he reached for the cable remote on the table next to his bed, he surfed about until he came across something that caught his eye on one of the movie channels.
Kenneth Branagh, in full Good King Harry mode, was urging on the troops. It wasn't the St. Crispian's Day speech, Justin remembered having to learn it when he was in high school, but something just as worthy:
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility;
But when the blast of war blows in our ears
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage.
Raising a finger slightly, as though he was following each point of the speech, Justin found himself starting to understand the why of his ordeal.
Rook wanted to draw out the tiger.
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