Flask was just alone, in the sickbay letting the last of his arms heal back into stubs before he had fulfilled his Master, Emily’s, request of staying in the sickbay until he was fully healed of his injuries as punishment of worrying her. He had to do it naturally too, that was Emily’s request, to just sit there in bed and boredom while he waited for his arms to restore into the stubs they’d soon become. It was just the last day before it fully healed too, Flask had THAT much time to calculate how long his arms would close their wounds entirely when he brought the bandages and his healing without limb attachment as variables into the equation. It was dark in the room, pure, pitch-black darkness where he laid since there was no need for any light to be turned on unless there was another person in there who wasn’t blind. Tomorrow he could leave, and from there he could get his hands back from his… well, rather illogical-looking solutions, but it truly did work when shown and explained. But for now, he just had to sit, focus on the feeling his arms were giving as they were regenerating, and test his patience. Though, it really wasn’t a test of patience when Flask couldn’t sleep and he had grown to have near infinite patience because of it. By then it was just like someone in a waiting room for the doctor, only able to do nothing but wait for the inevitability that is what they’ve been waiting for.
Throughout the switch in shifts, Flask was indistinguishable from a corpse, as he literally didn’t move a single muscle throughout that whole time. But then… he sat up straight and revealed his imprint on the pillows from staying still like that for so long. He carelessly brought his stubs of arms under the blankets and flipped his cover to reveal his untouched and unchanged lower-half of his body like a forklift. His leggings and boots were what was shown, cleaned from the blood that belonged to the wyvern Flask obliterated in an insanity-filled explosion. It was as if the fight had never happened, cleansing technology was just that good on Nimbus. It was a sign that Flask’s arms have stopped healing, because they had no more healing to do. This was truly evident by Flask biting down on the wrapping for one arm, and just ripped it clean off like a plastic-bag-like container for a snack being too hard to rip open with your hands,
the damn industrialists. He really only had to rip off a little bit before the entire thing could fall on its own thanks to gravity, and he did the same thing for his other arm as well. They fell off on their own when Flask pointed his arms downward, which then revealed his arms to truly be stubs. The arms had done a concave movement on themselves and looped backwards to seal up his otherwise open-wounded arm. A smile came of Flask’s face as he cracked his neck, back, arms, and legs. All the while not getting up just yet, he wanted to start his return from the sickbay after introducing his new potion and the forever-staying ill-sanity of his mind with a leap out of the bed. And he was just about to do that… until something caught his ears’ attention
Flask had heard a sound, a sound that wasn’t exactly something that would have gone on in the sickbay by any means. It was the sound of a soft, squeaky, and animal-like whine. It was a sad wine, a whine of fear, cowardliness, and overall sadness. Flask was thrown off and was stopped from him leaping out of the bed like he pressed down on some sort of spring hidden within the simple mechanics of the bed’s frame and mattresses. Instead, he waited in silence as a natural instinct of his body to ensure that he didn’t just hear that squeaky cry out of nowhere. But his senses weren’t fooled at all. Not. At. All. He heard the cry again, the same fear-filled cry of what seems to be a baby animal. It was coming from under the bed of all places. Flask was extremely confused now, what exactly was happening? Well, obviously there was some sort of animal under the bed, but there were so many questions after that: Was it a baby animal or just a very squeaky-sounding animal? Is it someone’s lost pet? How did he not hear it before? The third one especially got Flask, since his senses never get fooled, if it was even making the quietest sounds it could while making its way to under the bed he would have heard it. Flask didn’t go to sleep last night, he was just waiting and being patient for his punishment to be over, he would have heard SOMETHING!
This prompted Flask to just go investigate. There were still plenty of potions he could use in case it proved a threat. He got out of the bead as quietly as he could, but then he made a fluff sound with the cushion that was the bed frame, and it suddenly freaked the animal under the bed even more frightened. It let out a screech of fear in the same tone as the other two whines, only this tone was more of an animal going into Fight-or-Flight mode and made it so it tried its best to give off an impression of it being a threat to whatever prey was on its way to get it. Flask froze at that moment, but then continued once more, this time making sure the only sounds being made are the very soft ones only he could hear. Grown animal or no, Flask knew that the sounds he’s making are those that only his half-mile sensitive could hear within the vicinity of his room. Once he made it to where he softly put his foot on the floor, he heard another whine, this one as if whatever animal was under his bed was still in Fight-or-Flight mode, ready to do whatever it could to defend itself. Its newborn-sounding self. Flask at this point wasn’t about to go slow since the animal under his bed knew of his presence, and so he continued on. He got off of the bed, only being responded to with more occasional whines of defense, the animal was clearly on the other side of the bed now from where Flask was getting off, in a response of fear of course.
Flask eventually got off of the bed entirely and was about to go and confront whatever animal was randomly in his room, now standing up and still in the position of his beck to the bed he just exited, and his leggings nearly touching the corners of the bed. But then, he realized the room was in full darkness! If the animal was a threat, he didn’t want to take the chance of it being able to fight better in the dark with more courage and acknowledgement since it would guess Flask was an easier target in the dark. So, he wanted to make sure that if it was a scared animal or a threat, the light being on would just be more beneficial altogether. He began to walk, prompting another whine from the animal in response to Flask’s resumed movement in a tone which anyone could tell was because of a sudden scare of the animal. Eventually Flask got to where the light switch was and so he turned the lights of the room on, the white light illuminating all across the room as the animal then let out a continuous and panicked screech of agonizing fear. It backed up to the wall of where the bed was attached to, getting to as middle of it all as it could in what sounds like a stumbling, scrambling mess of a panic. However, its continuous screech slowed to a stop as it soon became under the impression of no movement in its area, which there was. Flask didn’t move when he turned on the light to confirm once and for all if the animal was just in a defensive-type mode or if it truly was just scared. By now it was for sure the latter.
Flask had just decided to wait until the animal made a move, he stood still, his front body turned to the rest of the room with his left stub remaining on the light switch, his right in his pocket. After a couple minuted of absolute silence, the animal made a move. It made one tiny little step forward, its clack on the ground only audible to Flask. That also gave him a new piece of information. With the sound it made on the ground sounding like an impact rather than a press, like what would happen with any flesh against a surface, the creature 100% had claws. It took another tiny step, then it took another. Tiny step after tiny step it slowly made its way out of the shadows of the beds under-structure and poked its head. And soon, it showed its whole body…
…Flask obviously couldn’t see the wyvern, so he was just waiting to see what it would do. He hadn’t even acknowledged what it WAS a wyvern, he couldn’t see and just thought it to be some sort of squeaky dog. But he would soon be proven wrong on both his guess on what the wyvern would do and what the creature he guessed it was. The wyvern stood still after coming out of the bed, just staring at Flask. Then, it made a charge to him, a very clumsy charge at that. That also engraved to Flask that the creature was no real threat, that being accompanied by it giving off many now cheered and, while still saddened, loud and relieved cries of joy. It was clear the little wyvern was crying, but why exactly? Flask was certainly confused. When the wyvern got to Flask, it… hugged his leg… in a very loving manor while essentially crying and still very frightened. Flask was immediately confused by what the creature did
“What the hell?” Flask says to himself as he waits to see what the creature would do next.
The wyvern only keeps hugging his leg while crying, but the wyvern soon starts to pipe down. The wyvern eventually stops crying and stops screeching in a frightened tone, letting go of Flask’s leg as it then looks up to him. It calls out to him with a begging screech, as much of a screech a baby wyvern could give. Flask already was confused, but now the creature was acting stranger than he had expected
“Don’t you try anything funny” He says to it as he get on one knee and kneels before the creature. It suddenly jumps onto his arm which had its stub in his pocket, and Flask nearly panicked
“Gah!..” He yells as he stands up and barely stops himself from shaking the creature off, but only ends up taking his stub out of his pocket and extending his arm slightly outward “The fuck are you doing!?” He yells to the creature as the wyvern simply continues to crawl up Flask’s arm with a now rather happy screech. Flask just stays still as the wyvern makes his way up his arms and gets on its shoulder, to which it lays down and nuzzles against his neck. Flask was finally calmed down, but still confused… Until he got a sniff of the wyvern
The scent was familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. But then, he recalls the smell!
“This smell… sniff sniff it’s… familia-”
It was the smell of the wyvern Flask fought in the workshops! It had just recalled to him in an instant
“Wait…” Flask lowers his arm as he begins to grow a face of shock and a little bit of fear “Don’t fucking tell me… J-just what is my luck?..” And inside Flask’s mind he is panicking like crazy
“THIS IS THE BABY OF THE GOD DAMNED WYVERN I KILLED IN THE WORKSHOPS! JUST WHAT KIND OF SICK TWIST OF FATE IS THIS!?”
Flask was about to go crazy on the baby wyvern, but then he decides to calm himself down. Sure, he’s now feeling like an absolute piece of shit for this sick twist of fate, but panicking will get him nowhere. He just thinks for a bit while the wyvern gets comfortable after the trauma it went through, Flask backing his back against the wall and sliding to the ground. He tries to massage his head with his right arm’s stub, sighing and thinking things out rationally. After about a solid 5 minutes, he begins to think of the ‘what now?’ factor out loud, to ensure his thoughts
“Ok… ok… This wyvern thinks I’m its god damned mother or something… I gotta take care of it… Holy shit this is all so quick. I-I have to. I just HAVE to. I’m not going to abandon this thing, I’ll just increase my karma… Is this really karma? I-I don’t know… Sure I killed the mother but… i-it attacked first damnit! Fuck… I gotta get my hands back and wonder on this shit…”
Flask turned his head to the wyvern now asleep on his shoulder, and spoke up before leaving the sickbay and having to explain this situation to everyone
“Guess this thing is my new pet, and I’ll need a name too”