Adrift, hanging empty in a colorless haze. Hanging, suspended above a precipice of... something. Something important.

It was gone. Out of reach. Beyond her. Something she couldn't get back. Why?

Something was missing. Something from inside her. Something that was irrevocably lost, taken from her, pushed away beyond her grasp.

It hurt. It hurt so much, but she felt lighter for having lost it. Was that so bad? Should she be sorry that she lost it?

What is going on?

No singular moment defined when her mind started to awake. Consciousness sparked like the fire on the end of a matchhead. Incoherent thoughts morphed into muddled ones at a glacial pace.

Touch was the first thing she could recognize; the feeling of a bed beneath her, stiff and flat. The rise and fall of her own chest as she drew in each breath was an anchor, something steady and consistent for her mind to latch onto as it tried to dredge its way to the surface.

Memories, formless and indistinct, danced just beyond her grasp.

Finally, her thoughts began to coalesce into a more tangible form of awareness. She could feel the stiffness in each limb, sprawled on the the bed below her. The crick in her neck from the awkward angle she was laying at. The oddly potent soreness at the ends of her tentacles, hanging just by her head, and the tingling at the ends of her fingers and toes.

More importantly, she could hear voices. They were distant, like they were at the end of a long tunnel, but they were there. Two of them, one more quiet and gruff, the other smooth, as if it were gliding through each word. Are they the reason she was asleep? Or waking up?

A scream. I remember a scream, the way it echoed. Was it my own? Wind rushed around her engulfing her body in weightlessness, tethered only by an all-encompassing fear. A terror tight enough to seize her body, as something rapidly approached. Closer...

Closer...

Closer...

Nothing. It was blank. She couldn't remember anything else. Why?

"...ke by now. Did something go wrong? Why isn't she...?" The words faded in and out, her mind still to sluggish to focus for more than a moment, but she started to pick apart what she had all the same. That was the lower voice, the gruff rumble, with a jagged edge. She recognized that voice. She knew that voice... but from where? Her mind was only drawing blanks, but she was SURE she knew it.

He's asking after me...? No, look, I'm awake, see? She tried in vein to communicate, but her body still refused her commands.

"Patience, General. " The second voice said. There was an authority in her voice, underpinning the smooth curvature of her words. "Rushing things of this nature is never a good idea."
[Note: maybe use styling to make her initial sounds either much smaller to indicate how quiet they are, or make them much lighter gray]
What the hell are they talking about? Rushing? Who cares, get me up! Again, she tried to respond, but all she could manage was a nearly inaudible groan. Neither voice seemed to notice. Are they ignoring me? Irritation instantly simmered in her veins, driving her temper up. With a mental grunt of effort, she set about trying to wiggle, move a muscle, anything to get them to notice her.

"Mmmpp..." For good measure, she even managed to twitch her leg too. There, that should be enough to make one of them wake me up.

The conversation stopped. Almost instantly, she felt a presence looming over her. "Are you awake? Can you hear me?" The Old Man, the one that was some kind of general, was beside her, peering down. Again, she couldn't help but try to place him. She knew that voice. It was soft, almost a mumble now, but somehow, she just knew it could be a booming echo.

There were two quick smacking sounds, and General backed up. "PATIENCE, GENERAL." The woman said through gritted teeth. There was a terse beat of silence before she spoke again, her voice more level this time. "Don't try to force yourself up, let your body wake up naturally."

Is she talking to me? I... I guess that makes sense. Only... something about those words rubbed at her wrong. Sure, it made a logical amount of sense, but... well, truthfully, she didn't want to wait anymore. This fucking blows, I'm not waiting. She immediately set about trying to wrestle control back into her own body.

"Or completely ignore me, out of spite. Why am I surprised?"

Screw you bitch! Bite me! It was a slow, grueling process, getting that control she wanted. It felt like she had to wake up each individual muscle in her body and teach them how to move again, all while they screamed in soreness and protest. Tides, just how long was I asleep? A quiet stream of grunts escaped her mouth as she worked, but eventually, she was able to get her elbows beneath her, and pull herself into a sitting position. It might have been... a little propped on the wall, but that wasn't important.

It took a similar amount of effort to finally pry her eyes open. Everything was blurry at first, but as she mustered the strength for a few blinks, it started to clear up. The room was dim, and pretty barren. A few cabinets hung in the corner next to a empty chair. Those, plus the bed she way sitting on, was every piece of furniture in the room.
[Lilac's appearance is open to ur suggestion! Idk if you want her to just look like Lilac in your story, or just share a name]
The real focus was on the other octolings in the room with her. The first one she saw was the woman. She was tall, slim, and quite young, maybe only a few years older than her. An unbuttoned white lab coat tried its best to hide the plain black underclothes she had. A large green sleeve wrapped around her right shoulder, but beyond that, there wasn't any accessories or other decorations. Even her tentacles were plain, being held in a simple magenta ponytail. It actually gave her pause when she saw this woman's eyes. There was a coldness to them, a calculating, meticulous edge that seemed to pick apart every single detail they could see. One of her eyes had a nasty looking bruise around it, most likely from someone getting sick of her looking at them like that.

Much more interesting, was the old man, General Whatever-The-Hell. Similar to the woman, he had a very intense gaze, though his eyes were less 'see everything you do' crazy and more 'seen some horrible shit' crazy. Their green coloration, and oversized eyebags underneath didn't make any effort to diminish the effects either. Beyond the psycho eyes, the first thing one would notice is just how much magenta this man had on him. Full body robes with an intricate pattern, covered entirely in magenta. The massive mustache on his upper lip, big enough to hide his mouth partially, also magenta. The top of his head... wasn't. He was bald, though magenta tentacles wrapped around the sides of his head, and trailed a short ways down his back still. Moreover, the General was not a small man. He was incredibly tall, with shoulders that felt nearly as broad. Even his hands looked huge by comparison to her own.

The wall behind her head was the only thing that kept the world spinning out of control. The absolute deluge of information was nearly to much for her lagging brain to handle so far. The feeling was slowly abating, as her body and mind pondered the idea of waking up. "Whazzz...?"

"This is why I told you not to rush it." The woman gave her a scowl as her calculating gaze swept across her. "You're only going to disorient yourself further."

Her first instinct was to shy away from the admonishment, lay back down and apologize. In fact she almost did, until a thought struck her. You know what? No. She didn't have a good reason why she suddenly felt so resistant to what were obviously instructions to help ease her pain, but something about being ordered like that pissed her off like nothing else. Even through her atrophy, she still managed to send a nasty little sneer back at the woman, which made her back off.

"Ah, perfect. You're awake now." The General quickly butted in. Even when trying to be quiet and subdued, his voice grabbed for authority. "How are you feeling, is everything alright? Can--"

Another smack, this one much less quiet, shut him up. It was the woman, smacking him in the shoulder, a very annoyed look on her face. "Do NOT overwhelm her. She is in a particularly delicate state right now."

Delicate? What is this bitch's problem? Half a dozen burning words rested on her tongue, but the lingering fatigue meant she could only force out a pathetic "Shut up..."

That was enough to raise an eyebrow. "You're recovering quickly..."

"Bitch." Every word she spoke felt heavy, and clunky, like she couldn't get her mouth in the right shape to say them. She spoke anyway. "What... happened?"

Interestingly, the woman hesitated, instead of speaking, looking back at the General instead. He cleared his throat. "You were injured."

Silence hung heavy in the room. A scowl quickly crawled over her face. "...And?"

"And, nothing." The woman interjected. "You are in recovery. No more questions, the stress could cause a relapse of some kind. We will explain more when you're in a better state.

What. "Oh HELL no." The retort slipped from her lips automatically, faster than she could catch it. Letting her thought loose like that felt electric, the attention it commanded, the way it made both of her attendants stiffen, it was what she wanted. "Tell me what happened." She demanded.

You could hear a pin drop in the silence.

"You--"

SMACK! "GENERAL."

"[Title]. [Lilac Last Name], something isn't right. She's... unaware?"

The woman, [see above], narrowed her eyes. "We can test later. Right now, the risk of added stress is not worth the-- guh!" She cut off as a pillow hit her in the shoulder.

Shit, I missed her head. Oh well. With a determined grunt, she shoved her way towards the edge of the bed. [Name] rushed forward to catch her, but she batted the [title]'s arms away before they could touch her.

"Listen, both of you. I don't know who the fuck you are, or where the hell I am." With another piercing glare towards [Name], she slid off the bed, grunting loudly as her feet hit the floor. Instantly, her legs started to shake under her weight, but she didn't fall. After a few moments to gather herself, and an arm subtly placed on the bed to brace herself, she took a bold step towards the General. He towered over her, yet she stared up more defiantly than she had ever before in her life, a nasty sneer playing over her features. "TELL. ME. WHAT. HAPPENED." She jammed a finger into his chest with each word.

He stared back at her, expression unreadable. "You... don't remember?"

"Remember what?" She bit back. Her balance buckled for a moment, but she recovered, meeting his eyes defiantly.

The General hesitated for a moment, confident facade cracking as he weighed his words. "What do you remember?"

"I--" She stopped. What did she remember?

Did she... remember anything?

Anything at all?

The scream, the wind, the terror. Is there anything else? ANYTHING else? She searched her mind, desperate to answer the question, but she couldn't find anything beyond faint wisps of emotion. Anger, regret, hopelessness, she could still feel them swirling around her head.

Her legs actually gave out this time, sending her careening towards the ground. The general lurched forward with a grunt, catching her before she face planted. Despite his old age, there was a surprising strength in his arms she found herself clinging desperately to as she started shaking.

"What the fuck is going on?" She mumbled as the General helped push her back onto the bed. "Why the fuck can't I remember anything?"

"This is what I was trying to prevent." [Name] casually remarked, pulling thick clipboard from somewhere and making a note.

"Shut up, bitch." The reply flew out of her unbidden as her hands grasped her forehead. She sucked in desperate gasps of breath, faster and faster.

"I was just trying to prepare you." [Name] replied almost too politely.

"BITE ME," She growled as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Why can't-- I don't--"

[Name] stepped forward and pressed a stethoscope again her back. "It's quite unfortunate what happened. However, for the sake of limiting stress, you will have to wait for your answers. Now, please hold still."

Oh, no. Hell no. She jerked her body, and slapped the stethoscope away. Before [Name] had any chance to react, she grabbed the woman by the front of her jacket, and pulled. Her grip was incredibly weak, surprise was almost exclusively the only reason she was able to knock [Name] of balance, but now that she was here...

She pulled until [Name]'s eyes were practically touching her own. "Tell me, now.

[Name] staggered away as she shoved her back. Poor thing looked genuinely intimidated. Good. She should be.