[center][h2][u]Word To The Wise, 
Never Trust Your Eyes[/u][/h2][/center]

[color=rosybrown] “Nay,”[/color] Vellios shouted back jokingly at Iosif,[color=rosybrown] “that’s a hobby!’[/color] 

Then the turian vanished into the medical bay without another word. 

Upon entering, a chemical sterilizer scent washed over him, his nostrils crinkled and caused him to flinch. Vellios immediately raised his hand to his nose, the flesh filtering the smell out, allowing him to focus. As if to remind him, his side started to flare in pain drawing a soft hiss from his lips. Huffing in irritation, Vellios went to work.

His figure strolled to the nearest cabine. As he by passed a mental tray, his hand reached and rolled it along by his side. The wheels creaked with the movement before grinding to a stop. His talons causally plucked several things from the shelves: stitches, medi gel and fresh bandages, all before setting them on a tray with a ting. Wheeling them over to the single bed in the room, Vellios then turned his back to the edge and hopped onto it.

Use to the scent, he removed the gel cast tom his torso. The thing came off with a hiss and was set upon the tray’s surface. Forgotten for the moment, the Turian moved into to examine his current condition. His crested head leaned down to glance at his ribs, his eyes tightened when he noticed the tinge of blue along the center. 

Vellios inhaled deeply. Taking his knife  slashed the bandages off his torso, careful not to wound himself more, with a vertical motion. A memory slipped through his defenses and suddenly flooded his mind, every muscle froze in the moment half way down.

Blood covered his side from one large gash, about a few centimeters deep. Vellios blinked in confusion. He forced his  blade to finish cutting him free and then tossed the rags upon the tray. He seemed unsurprised at the new wounds, assuming he had cut himself, through there was no pain. Vellios then took the fresh medi gel and applied it. 

Lathering up the injury with his talon, Vellios applied the stitches next. He started from where the gash’s edge started and followed down to where it ended. Retrieving the bandages, the Turian went to wrap them and stopped. 

The gash was gone.

A sharp intake of breathe was his only reaction. Vellios noting where he had used the medigel and stitches on his carapace, realizing it was a figment of his mind. All that remained was a small, discolored area along his ribs. In a few days, it would be completely gone. 

He was lucky the stitches were liquid or he would've ended up literally stitching up healthy carapace. Something that would've hard to explain to Serena. 

Pushing aside the incident, Vellios wrapped up his upper chest and sides. Finally he then placed and secure the gel cast to protect it from additional damage. Wordlessly he proceeded to clean up his mess and hopped off the bed, his talons promptly tossed the yellowed bandages into the disposal. 

After he had replaced whatever he hadn't used back into the shelves, he made his way toward the exit. He needed some fresh air and quickly.