[ awareness comes in blurred snatches before he settles more fully into consciousness, drugged and exhausted and restrained —and then freed, stumbling out of the vehicle and half-turning. he means to help whoever comes after him down, but a nurse is quicker and the thought slips from his mind.

it's too hot here and his eyes need a moment to adjust to the lights. the scrubs do nothing to hide the gills at kaldur's neck or the webbing between his fingers. ]

COMPLIANCE

[ the heat makes it more difficult for kaldur to focus, his toxin resistance ineffective against whatever is in his system. someone tells him to watch it and it's just a figure of speech, the "it" in question never specified, but kaldur still finds himself transfixed by lantern floating on a string, illuminating the path ahead and casting shadows and light with every turn in the wind.

he struggles, inside his mind, against the compulsion, but it is of no avail. (m'gann could help, he is sure. he would ask her to, were she here, despite the things she did to his mind when she thought he had truly changed sides.) ]

HEATSTROKE

[ atlanteans are sturdier than the average human, stronger and more solid to withstand the pressure of the ocean. there's the ability to breathe underwater, too —many things kaldur supposes one might regard as advantages.

these are balanced by the need to stay hydrated, by a weakness to high temperatures. he feels the sweat build on his brows quickly after leaving the bus and can't seem to find water —if there's a pool of it to submerge himself in or even bottled water to pour over his head, he cannot tell.

the dryness of his throat and the time he'd spent transfixed by the light do not help and he takes a step, another, and has to lean against the first solid wall he finds, breathing harder than normal, fighting to stay upright. ]

[ at the safehouse, kaldur settles in.

he spends perhaps too long a time in the showers, still and naked with his head tipped back toward the stream, water pouring over his body. there are tattoos on his back and neck, spiralling down his arms. at no point do they light up and glow with atlantean magic and the loss of power is something deeply disturbing to kaldur, but that worry is set aside, pushed deep inside his chest to be dealt with at a later stage. for now, hydration is the most pressing matter.

he finds a bed. if someone is near it, he will ask if it is taken —and introduce himself, demeanour calm and respectful, utterly polite, holding out a hand with webbed fingers, either unaware or uncaring of the emotional bond the skin contact will spark.

at various points, he will also be in the kitchen, looking into cabinets or preparing simple meals that he would be happy to share. ]

[ anything goes! hmu @ abiosis if you want to chat. also someone pls get this boy a scarf to hide his gills?? ]