"That's..... something Mali." By that point Joe's voice had become dry and raspy, an after effect of the deeply involved conversation he had just carried with Mali, a length he hadn't attained prior to the accident.
Mali looked up at him from the green spiral bound notebook she finished reading off of. It had just occurred to her that, though they operated as a group, she carried some dependency on Casey and Gordon. It was obvious why. Casey's motherly instincts were a comforting welcome and Gordon shared with her the foreigner card, a concept the rest would soon understand.
"This was nice Joe, I mean all things considered. I'm usually afraid of the things that come out of my mouth, but I feel like it doesn't really matter here. Thanks."
Nodding was all he could do before his medicine wore his consciousness thin.
Gordon found himself in a curious situation. After mysteriously being bailed out, he found himself with a note replete with address and hospital room number. Gordon scratched his head and laughed, a nervous habit he found comfort in.
"What have these blokes got themselves into?"
Uncertain where to begin, Gordon simply walked, hoping serendipity would give him a smile and a wink. To waste time until an idea came to him, Gordon sat on the sidewalk, absorbing the scenery and pondering a story.
There once was a merry band of pirates who sailed the highest seas. The world feared the very utterance of their name, the dreaded crew of Jack Hawksmoor. He and his nighthawks were no scallywags, they only pilfered what did not belong to those they stole from. Merchants dared not attempt to cheat the people, lest they suffer the wrath of Jack and his crew. Defenders of the weak they were, and one particular adventure tested their mettle.
As they sailed the ocean in search of adventure, they came across a beast the likes of which few had seen. Jack had heard tales of a being older than time itself, a creature referred to as "Ole Tentacles." Jack wanted to see if such a beast existed, knowing he could attain something from it, be it knowledge or treasure.
Jack set sail for uncharted waters, his crew in high spirits. They sung songs of joy, of celebrations, of their fearlessness of the unknown. Jack knew he had a good crew, a group that were not only willing to face the infinite blue but accepted it willingly. As they approached the island, a body of land that can be identified by the perpetual darkness that surrounded it. A foreboding silence infiltrated the crews quarters, but not their hearts. They arrived on the shore of black sands, ready to face the Old One. As they ventured further in, The Endless One stood before them. They attacked fiercely, striking where they could but to no avail. Once Jack realized they could do no harm to a creature that will outlive the entirety of existence, a creature of malevolence incarnate, he commanded his troops to collect the tentacles they managed to sever and retreat. Jack's crew made it back in good time as The Tentacled One gave no chase, the very notion was beneath it. Jack thanked wonderful Poseidon that there were no casualties and ruminated with his crew on what to make of the Ancient One's severed parts.
Gordon sat up quickly, his idea required standing.