Who: Shatterstar OT Fantomex When: Wednesday evening, after the big battle Where: Haven infirmary What: Shatterstar [figuratively] licks his wounds. Fantomex helps. (Get your mind out of the gutter, folks!) EDIT: And (whoa) then, things take an unexpected turn. No, really. Honest. This wasn't the plan at all, lol Warnings: Nudity, robotic boys being robotic, exploration of sensual sensation
Shatterstar sat glumly on one of the examination beds in the infirmary at the Haven. Slowly but surely, what had been a simple room with a cot and a few first aid kits was becoming a proper infirmary. Machinery and instruments filled almost every wall now, some still half packaged and unused. His uniform completely ruined by the battle with Sabretooth, and because of the position of his wounds, Star was unclothed except for the thin hospital gown that instead of being worn was draped strategically over his groin and hanging over his uninjured thigh.
For all that Creed's claws were fiendishly sharp and tough, the diagonal cuts that had slashed Star's upper thigh had not been terribly deep. Just enough to keep him out of circulation for a few days. Thankfully, Star had something of a healing factor himself, although nowhere in the league of Creed's or Logan's. But his body might heal in weeks what would take a normal human months of recuperation, and possibly in days what would take a baseline human weeks to heal.
His wounds have been cleaned and disinfected. He was basically all patched up, except for the tetanus shot and some antibiotics. He didn't care. He felt like he had failed. They had not brought down the mark. Sabretooth had not only escaped, but Vulcan's powerful blast had done quite a bit of property damage. He didn't care that everyone was telling him he was being too hard on himself. He had failed. That was all there was to it.