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[center][h2][color=#406f40]Joel Shcroeder[/color] [/h2] [/center]
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Location: Altsoba Hospital
Interacting With: Howard Lucas [@Morose]
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As the transfused blood trickles into his system, his eyes began to flit open gently, and he slowly regained consciousness. Terrified to move out of fear of an encore of spasms and vomiting, he slowly tilted his head up, attempting to focus through the receding grogginess on the IV bag of blood slowly dripping it's antidote into his tired veins. As the haze dissipated into mere noticeability, he euphorically acknowledged the morphine still trickling through his blood and the absent nausea. Reaching a forgetful hand to his forehead to gently rub his temples, he tensed at the pressure applied by his hand to the tender wound present across his forehead. Resting two fingers on the now stitched gash, he grimaced softly before moving his fingers into eyesight, relieved to see only subtle tints of red.

Recollecting himself, he slowly propped into a sitting position through, a combined effort of physical movement and the automatic adjustability of the hospital's cot, while his eyes wander slightly to discern his surroundings. Taking in the foreign environment, he was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face in a cot to the right of himself, a fellow professor named Howard, whom he had met previously during conventions and a few of his own lectures. While admittedly he was only an acquaintance, it provided Joel with a sense of comfort to see a like minded individually in an environment so volatile as the one present. 

As Howard noticed Joel, he gave a wave, to which Joel replied with one of his own.
[color=#406f40]"It's been an interesting evening, hasn't it?"[/color]
He asked through a raspy voice, a small chuckle resonating from his chest.