[ By Ben's count, it's been just over 20 hours since he had arrived in this place, alive and with no idea how any of it was possible. A lot has happened in that time. He'd reunited with Klaus, gotten Klaus medical attention, reunited with Diego, found all of them a place to live, gotten everyone settled, and spent the rest of the day gathering information, learning as much as he can. He never drifted too far from either of his brothers, concerned in particular about Klaus, injured as he is.
He's gotten even more of the essential research done in the last few hours after Diego and Klaus had both gone to sleep. It's slow going, figuring out how to work the communication and information device he'd been given, but Ben is teaching himself through trial and error. Except more and more he is feeling... bad.
It's been a long time, since Ben Hargreeves had a body. He's gotten into the habit of not needing anything at all, and not feeling anything at all. All the input that he ought to easily be able to parse and identify - what is hunger, what is thirst, what is sleepiness, what is a headache, what is needing to pee, what is feeling sore and needing to readjust his posture - it's all tangled up and indecipherable to his brain right now. So he does what he's used to doing. In other words, none of it. All he's aware of is an increasing feeling of wretchedness. That this is a bad situation they're in, everything is terrible, that they will only get worse, and things will go on like this forever and ever.
He looks up from the frustrating device when he hears Klaus entering the room, concerned that he is awake. Had he slept poorly? Is he in pain? ]
Hey, Klaus.
[ Ben's voice comes out a little scratchy, strained. He is, to Klaus's view, sitting in the exact same place he had been six hours before, without any sign of having gone to bed, or moved whatsoever. ]
🐙 | how to human
He's gotten even more of the essential research done in the last few hours after Diego and Klaus had both gone to sleep. It's slow going, figuring out how to work the communication and information device he'd been given, but Ben is teaching himself through trial and error. Except more and more he is feeling... bad.
It's been a long time, since Ben Hargreeves had a body. He's gotten into the habit of not needing anything at all, and not feeling anything at all. All the input that he ought to easily be able to parse and identify - what is hunger, what is thirst, what is sleepiness, what is a headache, what is needing to pee, what is feeling sore and needing to readjust his posture - it's all tangled up and indecipherable to his brain right now. So he does what he's used to doing. In other words, none of it. All he's aware of is an increasing feeling of wretchedness. That this is a bad situation they're in, everything is terrible, that they will only get worse, and things will go on like this forever and ever.
He looks up from the frustrating device when he hears Klaus entering the room, concerned that he is awake. Had he slept poorly? Is he in pain? ]
Hey, Klaus.
[ Ben's voice comes out a little scratchy, strained. He is, to Klaus's view, sitting in the exact same place he had been six hours before, without any sign of having gone to bed, or moved whatsoever. ]