lifeaftr | Ruins Mingle Log!

Who: Newt Geiszler

ohnehalfte and EVERYONE
What: So a bunch of people headed up towards the ruins, so they've got to all run into each other and start to congregate, right???
When: Evening of the mingle log and onwardish.
Where: The Ruins
Warnings: Um...same as the mingle log?

The beach curves up a gentle slope until it meets forest, some manner of building visible through the trees. Further exploration of this area will reveal a dilapidated building of sorts; the architecture is indiscernible to even the most skilled eye. Despite looking as if it has seen better days, there are areas that offer some form of shelter...and who knows what else. Just because it appears uninhabited doesn’t mean you won’t wind up pleasantly, or unpleasantly, surprised.

[ooc: Hey y'all! I thought this might be a good place to start getting larger groups of characters together to do some exploring, settling down, banding together and figuring out rations, etc. Feel free to throw up any threads of your own for specific things like exploration groups, a gathering in the entrance hall, whatever strikes your fancy or that you think your character would organize. Have a party!

Edit: Additionally, there is now an OOC Post for those that want to handwave their character signing up for ruin exploration]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Thanks, then.

[Ichimatsu has never been so good of a person that he'd turn down charity. He accepts the coconut with a nod, swinging his own backpack down long enough to pop it into the large pocket. As the strap slides back up his shoulder, he eyes the Drifter with what he hopes isn't too stern of a gaze.]

[It's a pain in the ass, but he's always been a bit more observant than he lets on. He's not exactly one to judge the pallor of a blue-skinned person, but... he's thinking back to that stumble from a simple coconut, to the way they don't speak at all. Maybe they're just weak? Or have a sore throat? They are wearing a mask, even if it's different from Ichimatsu's hygiene mask. Either way, he wonders if they're really in good enough health to be doing a bunch of backbreaking manual labor.]

... mind if I ask you a question? Can you not talk or something?

[Success. They will consider that a minor victory, but a victory nonetheless. Ichimatsu's question takes them aback somewhat, but only for a moment. No one has asked them that particular question yet.]

[Their head lowers in a solemn nod.]

sickness
no cure
damage to throat.

[That had been the first thing to go, really. The first sign that this would not simply go away - when their coughing had gone from hoarse and hacking to nearly silent, and they could no longer utter so much as a whisper.]

...

[He didn't think he'd actually been right, but here they are.]

[Ichimatsu wonders what the appropriate response to that information would be. A person so sick they can't even speak shouldn't be hauling coconuts around, let alone babysitting a grown man and feeding his family. Maybe the right thing to do would be to scold them... tell them to take it easy. Take their coconut back, take a load off, take a nap under the nearest palm tree.]

[Forcing goodwill like that is pointless, though. What good is there in telling someone a bunch of stuff they must already know? If they've already decided that they're gonna work, then they're gonna work. It's not Ichimatsu's place to tell them they can't. Nobody appreciates a bunch of overbearing advice from someone who shouldn't even be sticking their nose into things that don't involve them.]

[He regrets asking. He regrets more that he's afraid to press for details, in case it makes his brother hard to look in the face for a while.]

Well, it doesn't bother me if you don't talk or if you try working past your limit. Do what you want. Just try not to die.

[lol]

[There is something almost amusing in that, were they graced with a morbid sense of humor. Fortunately, their current state makes any demonstrations of humor a manual effort rather than something that could emerge in an involuntary spurt of sound.]

[All the same, dying is decidedly unpleasant. His advice is sound; they will endeavor not to do so.]

you too

[Him too, huh...?]

[That's fine. It's already just another thing he's given up on.]
[But... is he really okay with leaving things like this? Ichimatsu forces a sharp scoff of air through his teeth, glancing away from the stranger -- the sick one, comes the unwanted reminder. He can't deal with heavy atmospheres like this. Why does he always have to go and ruin every conversation he has by saying stupid stuff like, 'Can you not talk or something'?]

[Like it was even his business, just because they made his brother happy.]

[....]

[What a crappy situation.]

[Abruptly, Ichimatsu pulls his knapsack back down and opens up the front flap, shoving his hand deep inside. When it draws back out, there's a surgical mask clutched in his fingers. It's white, with an inner lining of gel-like material to resist some fluid. Stained and a bit sandy-looking, but smelling vaguely of rubbing alcohol.]

I changed my mind about the trade. Here. [He shoves it out towards them while looking away, dangling it by the ear loops.] S-sorry, I used it, but... it's clean. And I'm not sick.

...use it so you don't catch anything else. O-or don't. I don't care.

[That should have been the end of the exchange, as far as they were concerned - but it isn't. Because he presses something into their gloved and slightly clawlike fingers, and they fumble slightly as they run it between their fingers.]

[So they don't catch anything else.]

[The gesture will not save them from the death they know is running up to greet them, that will swallow them whole in burn of toxic magenta, in the ink-creep of black tendrils swarming down their throat and choking their breath.]

[But the gesture is...]

[Kind.]

[Their dark eyes fold into thin black crescents, the same way a cat might squint to indicate its contentment.]

thank you

[It's barely left his hands and Ichimatsu already misses the mask. It's stupid, but it's more than a flimsy protection from pathogens, in his culture -- it's a shield of anonymity against a world that always finds fit to judge within moments of laying eyes on you. In some small, childish way, it's safe. There's nothing he can do about it now, though.]

[Except hope that maybe it'll do this stranger more good than it did him. And if it doesn't, well... it's not like there's much of Ichimatsu to hide, anyway.]

[He slings the pack over his shoulder again. His eyes flicker up only long enough to read the written thanks, and then he glances off once more.]

Sure.

[...]

[He's already turning away, waving a hand over his shoulder.]

Well, I'm leaving. I'll see you around.
[Don't die.]

[Another soft ping of their HUD.]

see you.

[They'll have to wait until he's out of eyesight before they pull thing over their face, the lower half that's usually covered with the drape of maroon cloth. It's stained with pink on the inside, and they're certain that the gift itself will be soon, as well.]

[But it is better than making no use of it at all.]

[They deftly loop the thing around the lower half of their face, tying it behind their neck, and yank the mantle back over.]

[He won't be able to see it, but it's there.]

[Maybe it will help.]

Ruins Mingle Log!

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