[sub][h3]Doctor Quinn Howell[/h3][hr][/sub]

Time felt wasted as his mind was lost in a methodical order of how such events should play out for himself in the next several minutes.  A silly thing to have imagined—remembering his own death only to reawaken under the creative experiment (seemingly) conducted under the supervision of Dr. Kelodie—and then to believe he had such a choice of how to spend the next few pennies of his existence, tinkering in an academic study he had merely made-up himself.  His mind was far from understanding the entire situation, as his brain weaved together loose ends and thin strands of information the best it may. A small curl of his toes, alleviating the coolness of the hard flooring as his mind registered unevenly at the noises protruding loudly from beyond the door that had just been opened, “By golly,” he whispered lowly as his fingers caressed his forehead gently, thumb pressing lightly into his cheek.

Perhaps it was his education getting in the way of his ability to fully grasp the situation with such ease and flexibility as the minds of the other two awakened souls, and for a lack of a better proposition to impose upon himself, he decided to follow the flow of social endeavors, with one foot placed in front of the other, until he, too, was wearing a pair of slippers and peering at the tremendously odd creatures lacing the outside world.  Dr. Howell wanted the strange things to be what bothered him the most—extraordinary in their appearance, physique—the laws of which they moved seemed almost irrational, but if math served him some sort of rights, their abilities were presently logical, and yet, stretching his mind further in this dimension of thought was proving a repeat exercise and stress on the inner workings of the organ.  However, with his eyes narrowing and gathering the brokenness of the world, it was the environmental change of what he once knew that bothered him the most.  

Desperation had clouded the world in bouts of trash and in what only seemed fair to label as [i]fear[/i] of these creatures rummaging and pillaging the kingdom.  This was not the world he once knew.  For all the jaded feelings he had compressed and visited in his memory of the day he had (first) died, the treacherous ruins that lay waste in the kingdom, now, was conjuring up a flustered emotion, hot to his cheeks. The embodiment of a man who knew of patients he could never save being granted the choice to do something about [i]this[/i] was all too meaningful to him.  His sole purpose in life had been dedicated towards helping people, saving people. 

His body winced at the sound of the young girl screeching in innocent terror as one of the creatures carried her away.  Reckless behavior would not save her; muscles stopping himself from reacting too severely. He turned his face away and drew his attention to the bag that had been tossed on the floor.  His body motioned towards the bag with a large hand extending to grab hold of one of the gemstones.  His fingers pulled a single gem from the bag and brought it close to his face for examination.  The colors reflected inwardly of the dim light echoing through the monastic layer.  His dark eyes squinted, again, studying the dimensions and natural cut of the stone.  Much had happened in those five years, and Dr. Kelodie’s optimism—Dr. Howell summarized—must have been attributed towards the success of the experiments bringing forth the dead to life and of the ability of the resurrected to capture these [i]things[/i] that were currently destroying the world.

“How many others of us are there, might I inquire?” Dr. Howell drew his hand away from his face and clenched the gemstone with his fist.  His eyes shifted to look at Dr. Kelodie.  Capturing mystical-type monsters had never been on his mind as a simple doctor.  Once upon a time as a child he might have lured himself into a playful toy of his imagination, but to see a reality in which something so crazy did exist was a bit too far from his once one-tracked mind, “And how—how in such an earthly name did all of this come about? I cannot think the Kingdom has succumb to such turmoil in only half a decade’s time,” his eyebrows creased together expressing the frustration that was slightly lacking in his voice, “Should we be able to locate our friends and family prior to our deaths, now?” His intentions to explain to his dearest ones what had happened to him, the Duke, the corruption—it was all rather silly and unnecessary and probably just a reminiscing story of what the Kingdom used to be in better times than now, “No…” he trailed off, now openly speaking with himself, conflicted with matters.

His hand raised again and opened to reveal the gem.  His eyes left Dr. Kelodie and focused on the stone resting silently against his rough skin.  The lines on his palm distorted under the gem’s coloring.  Priorities were priorities.  And, if there was any cowardice in him, it was towards the idea these strange creatures—or monsters—may have already ridden the world of the ones he loved and knew. His eyebrows loosened, but his frown remained.  He needn’t think like that, now, but the thought seemed all too probable.