[center][h1][U][B] THE NEXT MORNING[/B][/U][/H1]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/9w1LgRm.gif[/img] 
Location: Raptor Pack’s home, Albany NY
Time: Near Noon (Day after the Soulstone creation) [/center]
[hr] 

Ben snored against the cushioned surface where the metas left him, a couch. Under the scratchy blanket, he curled into a ball and shifted subtly into a new position. The dull ache of last night edged into his awareness. He didn’t want to get up as he twisted on the narrow sofa, his arm pulled the blanket with him along the way. His figure sank into the cushions a bit more causing his eyes to snap open. This wasn’t his bed came the deep, dark realization. He jerked upright, his muscles cramped with each movement, as he panned the living room’s scenery. A twitch of his skin at the air’s chill made his eyes tilt down and found himself naked, much to his chagrin. Hands collected then wrapped the scratchy blanket tighter about his waist and pelvis, his weakened figure edging off the edge of his makeshift bed.   

He paused there as his right hand wiped away the grit collection in his vision, clearing it up finally. This wasn’t good, he thought bitterly. He was visibly rattled when the memories of last night poured into his mind and shivered, his head shaking off his nerves. Inhaling slowly, Ben pushed off the sofa carefully then stabilized himself upon his two feet. His left hand flipped down to fist a section of the blanket over his bare hips and called out, his voice scratched and raw with each word. 

[color=chocolate] “Hello… anyone there? Shit-”[/color] 

Ben let out a curse as his right leg twitched then folded underneath him. His form crumbled instantly and caused him to lean against the edge, his expression soured by his own weakness. He was so tired that it wasn’t funny. It was then he noticed his appearance. Namely the blood and grime that still stained his white surface, then caused him to grit his teeth in anger.  This wasn’t suppose to happen, he thought in fury and confusion. Why? Why did it happen now instead of tomorrow? The question was answered by silence as he sighed, his arm reached for the sofa arm to pull himself back up. His fisted hand kept its position to reserve some modesty in the situation when his attention turned to the sound of footsteps padding into the room.