[@TheMinorFall]

This much could be said for the employees of the Upstairs: when a problem arose, they worked swiftly.  By the time Orion came to, his surroundings were entirely different.  Instead of the dark colors and vivid lights of the restaurant, a clean and clinical room greeted him.  Someone he couldn't see shoved something that smelled a lot like flesh into his good hand.  "Eat that," a lady told him.  His broken arm was reset and securely bound so the bones would not shift as it healed, though not with a traditional cast.  His various injuries were stitched and bandaged -- and hurting less than might be expected.

"I'd advise against trying to move around much, at least until your regenerative abilities kick in properly," a man in a lab coat told him, though he didn't come too close.  He didn't seem particularly bothered by the fact that Orion was a ghoul and he was human, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be cautious with the instincts of ghouls being what they were.  "Illia, how are you holding up?"  That question was directed to a woman standing in the far corner of the room.  She had her eyes shut and her hands clasped in front of her chest as if in prayer, and a faint image of feathered wings spread from her shoulders.  "Well enough, Doctor.  I have endured worse."  The response was serene.

"Just remember you're helping two, not one.  I don't want you collapsing again."
"I will keep it in mind."

The doctor switched back to Orion.  "Your blood levels indicate a recent feeding, yet your regenerative powers were impaired.  Have you encountered anything that might cause this, as far as you know?"

((Not entirely sure what to have be the cause, or how easily it should be fixed.  If Orion has a good sense of smell, Cera's nearby, but not in sight.  And the meat is not human, but it's probably not anything he recognizes, either.  Something strong, though.))