[center][h2][color 33ec06]Marcus Howell[/color][/h2][/center]
[center][img]http://i65.tinypic.com/21o8tg4.png[/img][/center]
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[color=f7976a]"Suppression module: on,"[/color]

Welp, it was official. The battle was over and they were going to be back on their way to USARILN. In a way, Marcus was glad. There’d be a nice, comfy bed waiting for him when he got home. He shivered for a moment. ‘Home’. That place certainly was not ‘home’; his home was someplace far away, and not entirely intact. This would have to do, and he had a feeling it would be that way for a while, at least. 
Adding to that were the kind escorts who had arrived. It looked like there was a pretty large group of soldiers who’d shown up, and a tow truck for some reason. He watched sadly as numerous bodies were loaded into one of the trucks, more bodies than had come from their team. Other teams had apparently taken casualties as well, a fact that grimly reminded him of how much had been going on. Everyone had seemed so separated, but now that the bodies were being taken, he was reminded of the unity they shared. They were a big team; and everybody had lost people.

He looked around as the soldiers formed around them, more of them off in the distance performing other duties. Shane’s slow movement caught his eye, and he sighed, raising his hands in the surrender position as well. He’d already almost been shot once; so he was happy to do anything to mitigate that risk. 

Marcus jolted a little bit as Shane passed out, cautiously looking around to see if there was a source. It made sense that the dude would be exhausted after that show of force, but it certainly seemed like a delayed reaction. He eyed the unconscious form with as much curiosity as the guards, but remained where he was, hands still raised slightly. 

He internally chuckled a bit at what he thought was a humorous scene of a few guards attempting to coax a dragon onto a tow truck, but didn’t focus on that very much. The orders from the remaining guards quickly brought his attention back to his own predicament. Once again, into the truck; this all seemed very familiar to him.

“[color 33ec06]Does [i]this[/i] one have a mini-fridge at least?[/color]”
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The sit at the hospital was just about as quiet as the ride over. He’d sat back on his bench and closed his eyes, his weary mind still spinning a little bit because of the green gas they’d been subjected to. The poison nausea paired with the ever-so-slight motion sickness from the ride over didn’t exactly make for a winning combination, so he’d sat silently, halfway between waking and sleep, only vaguely aware of some chatter around him. If it were anything important, someone would shove him.

Now, Marcus maintained relatively the same position. Arms crossed, leaned slightly back in his chair, eye closed. As much as he tried, he couldn’t fall asleep here, but he hoped he was at least tricking his body into feeling a little less tired. He wasn’t quite sure why he bothered to stay after they’d shuttled in; a quick examination of him showed that he didn’t have any injuries aside from some superficial glitter cuts, thanks to Lily’s power taking care of his shoulder injury. That was probably the reason he stayed; Lily’s cries of pain and subsequent unconsciousness worried him slightly, and now he was just waiting to see if she made a recovery. He’d leave any additional ‘thank you’ speeches to the rest, and maybe send her a fruit basket at some point. Maybe send the blonde boy one too, for unintentionally keeping everyone else healthy.

His eyes popped open at an unexpected sound. Multiple boots; usually the sound of multiple boots meant he was about to get shoved off to yet another room or something, if the previous few days were any indication. What he saw was a little more surprising; A Precursor. The white mage of the Precursors to be precise: Benediction himself. It made sense; if the Director had one in her pocket to deal with escapees, then she’d also have one ready for healing. Wouldn’t want any unfortunate accidents to reduce the more important staff, he surmised.

He imagined that they didn’t qualify as ‘important staff’.

Hell, he probably should have been grateful for the small effort that the man did expend on them. The white light that filled the room was undoubtedly his power, a fact confirmed by the tickling sensation that accompanied his glitter wounds healing, along with the sound of numerous IVs dripping on the floor. Seemed that people as great as him didn’t worry about the messes they left behind.

As quickly as he came, Benediction was gone. Marcus looked around – people were sitting up from their beds and looking around, nurses were gossiping and walking around, one had even cleared them. He stood up from his position, stretching and yawning. It had been a long day, and now that he was free to leave, he was heading straight for his bed. 

He shuffled slowly out of the room, trying not to step in any of the puddles spilled on the floor. He gently scooted past one student, arm trapped in a cast, apparently trying to get one of the nurses to free him from his plaster prison. The crowd dispersed slightly at the door, and a momentary look around the halls showed Marcus which way he needed to go to get back to the suites.