[He cannot really concentrate on the voices or faces of the doctors and nurses speaking to him. The room is too bright and he can hear too much noise beyond his room. He looks down, staring at a spot on the bed, trying to breathe and make sense of it all. The most he hears is something about an accident, but he doesn't have cuts and bruises like he should. No, instead, he notices that he cannot see anything out of his left eye. He looks up to say something about it, but the doctors have already left him to his own devices. Touching his face, he feels a rough scar, a scar that he can feel spans to his hairline, down his chin and neck, and all the way down along his torso. It's there on his back as well. What the hell sort of accident was he in? Was he really . . . ]

[Dio throws off the blankets and steps over near the window. It feels foolish to experiment with this, but tentatively, he reaches a hand into the beam of sunlight. There's nothing at first, but then he hears a faint sizzle and a sudden sharp pain as the skin of his head begins to turn red, blistered and boiled. It's with a small howl of pain that Dio retracts his hand, cradling it to his chest and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Tentatively, he takes a look to assess the damage, but to his surprise, his skin is already smooth and white once more. Dio flexes his fingers before feeling at his teeth with his fingertips, and finds his canines to be sharp like that of an animal rather than of a human. So the memory is true? He becamse some sort of . . . monster. And he survived by drinking . . .]

[Christ. He's hungry.]

[Dio moves back over to the bed, sitting down and covering his face with his hands and closing his eyes. Why can't he remember anything else? The memories he has don't make any sense. After a few moments, he decides abruptly that he doesn't want to think about this any longer. Or rather he can't because his mind continues to go back again and again to those moments when he apparently made the decision to become...this, and again and again he can remember the smell of blood hanging thick in the air, and he feels sickened by the way his stomach gnaws with hunger at the thought rather than turning in revulsion at the gore. Dio sits up, putting his hands on the bed and feels something cool and plastic on the bed beside him. Lifting his hand, Dio sees it's a packet of blood and quickly looks around the room. Where the hell did that come from?]

[When he looks back at the packet of blood in his hands, he's surprised to find instinct must have taken over: it's opened and ready to be consumed. Dio stalls for a second or two, but he brings the tubing to his lips and takes a small sip. The first sip is, however, the only small one. The moment the blood hits Dio's tongue, he wants more. The tubing is deemed an obstacle when he hits the limit of how quickly he can suck from the bag, and Dio rips it off. It makes for messier eating as he tips his head back and squeezes the bag with his hands. The majority of the blood is ending up in his mouth still, but plenty of it begins dribbling down his chin and on his fingers. When he empties the bag, he realizes that he's beginning to see blurred shapes out of his left eye. Dio throws the empty bag aside onto the floor. It's working, but he needs more. Before he can get up, however, he finds The World before him, with a bag of blood in each hand. Dio jolts at the Stand's sudden appearance, but slowly begins to smile.]

I know you . . . [To anyone watching, it appears he's talking to no one, two bags of blood hanging in midair before him.] Show me where you're getting these from.

[Dio stands and starts to head out of his room, but stops short. Before, he wasn't paying attention. Hunger came over him quickly and he didn't take into consideration that others might be watching, that it might not be entirely safe to broadcast that he apparently subsists on a diet of human blood. Dio steps back into the room, and heads into the bathroom to wipe his chin off with a damp towel when he looks back at The World. This thing can stop time. He remembers that. But something is off in its appearance, it's then that Dio realizes it carries a similar fissure to his scar on its own body. Dio wills it closer wordlessly, and the Stand drifts over. Dio places his hand on its cheek, but quickly retracts it when he's startled by the phantom touch against his own cheek. Dio touches its cheek again, running his thumb over its matching scar. So they're connected to one another in every way, it seems. Which means that it will keep Dio protected no matter what. That thought's a little reassuring. Something this powerful will do anything to ensure Dio's survival. Dio finishes cleaning himself off and takes the bags of blood, setting them in the sink. He'll gather what he needs from the blood supply here, and feed in the bathroom. The World can keep him protected, but it's best not to press his luck. He touches the scar on his cheek faintly, noting that it's already beginning to shrink and stand out less prominently on his face.]

[As he leaves his room to find the blood supply in the hospita, he thinks that perhaps with enough blood, it will be gone altogether.]

((ooc: if you want an alternative scenario, either hmu on plurk [maledictions] or go nuts. just remember that if it's outside the hospital, it needs to be at night since dio cannot walk in the sun! and don't forget about his permissions/opt-out post.))