Finally coming around, the first thing he takes note of? The massive headache he has going on, all on the left side of his head. Before his eyes even open, York has a hand resting against his head like that might do something to ease the pain. He's confused for a few seconds, trying to figure out why everything hurts, but it does come back to him and gives him a pretty good reason for what he's feeling.
That training match against the new recruit, Texas. Wyoming and Maine...bringing in live rounds. A grenade, some paint bullets, and then...nothing.
Eyes fluttering open, the first thing he notices is actually the lack of something. That being the vision on his left side. He's missing half of the range he can normally see in, and that quickly has him shoving himself up into a seated position, looking at his hands, blinking hard, trying to get things working properly again. But obviously, nothing changes.
"Shit," he curses to himself, good eye finally darting off to the side when he realizes there's someone here with him. Gaze settling on Wash, York wonders fleetingly how long he's been out, but decides to ask something else. "Did they ruin my good looks?"
It's a joke, mostly. Joking makes dealing with things easier, right? ...Right?
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Finally coming around, the first thing he takes note of? The massive headache he has going on, all on the left side of his head. Before his eyes even open, York has a hand resting against his head like that might do something to ease the pain. He's confused for a few seconds, trying to figure out why everything hurts, but it does come back to him and gives him a pretty good reason for what he's feeling.
That training match against the new recruit, Texas. Wyoming and Maine...bringing in live rounds. A grenade, some paint bullets, and then...nothing.
Eyes fluttering open, the first thing he notices is actually the lack of something. That being the vision on his left side. He's missing half of the range he can normally see in, and that quickly has him shoving himself up into a seated position, looking at his hands, blinking hard, trying to get things working properly again. But obviously, nothing changes.
"Shit," he curses to himself, good eye finally darting off to the side when he realizes there's someone here with him. Gaze settling on Wash, York wonders fleetingly how long he's been out, but decides to ask something else. "Did they ruin my good looks?"
It's a joke, mostly. Joking makes dealing with things easier, right? ...Right?