lifeaftr | Blood for the Snow Gods

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Blood for the Snow Gods

Who: Lydia and whoever wants in on finding this trash fire, I guess.
What: SO someone is an absolute idiot and is relearning this whole fleshbody thing. Which included pushing herself to the point of kind of passing out face first in the snow. With her gaudy-ass pony thing not doing shit to help. Uh.
When: Few days after the intro log, what are dates, how work. Probably around the tenth or so. Midday into sunset.
Where: Chol
Warnings: None at the moment? Hypothermia, maybe, I guess.

It hadn't been her smartest plan, to insist that she was totally fine with just her clothes and that one blanket. She could use her phantom steed for warmth, right? Of course, she'd be fine, it was just something weird going on here and absolutely not the fact she was not a lich anymore and was in a mortal fleshy body again.

Until you start to realize that, no, even elves need some sort of sleep of some sort or another and running on fumes while having not really eaten doesn't really help in the end of the day. Tattered clothing that was meant for warmer climates also certainly did not help, the hood having been pulled over her head and particularly over her ears to keep them from freezing off.

But eventually the body gives up the ghost on these sorts of things, which ends up in this particular sight. Lydia face first in the snow out of it and a rather annoyed gaudy phantom horse just pacing around the nearby area. It's not like she could just go and find someone or something, that'd make sense, after all.

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... Well, this isn't good.

Mickey blinks at the unusual sight before jumping and running over as fast as he could. "Hey, hey, hey!" At her side, he kneels down, trying to summon up his fire spell. "Not the best place to take a nap..."

It's never a good thing, honestly. Though that horse seems to not be taking too kindly too his being nearby, pawing at the snow covered ground and lowering her head to make it very clear she's not against using those... antlers, those are antlers. "She's passed out, what do you think talking is going to do?" Oh, she talks. That's good. In the most obnoxious and stereotypical valley girl accent, oh jeeze.

She's not wrong, though, given there's no answer from Lydia. She's... breathing, at least, but it's more her body has just kind of shut down to a number of factors that most include preservation.

Mickey hadn't expected the steed to speak! He's so startled he yelps - "WHOA!" - and falls, sitting on his tail. He blinks a few times, trying to get his bearings - how is this the weirdest thing he's encountered so far?

"I, uh..." He shakes his head, trying to stay with the more serious situation. "Can you help me turn her over? She won't be able to breathe like this!"

That's about the level she's used to at this point, particularly given there's just something off about this place and the fact Lydia's even breathing at all. This stupid creature has technically been around for a good hundred or more years with this idiot of a person so... Well.

"That's the thing, she hasn't needed to breathe before." There's just a hint of confusion and concern in that tone before she's lowering her head to try and use her muzzle to help push her over. Luckily Lydia... honestly doesn't weigh much, elves rarely do in the first place.

Mickey let out a "phew!" of relief that they managed to turn her over. "So far, so good..." He can ask WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEVER NEEDED TO BREATHE later. But now the next task - was the woman consciousness? He lightly poked her cheek.

"Miss? Miss, can you hear me?"

It'll be a long conversation and probably one that makes no sense and particularly one Lydia won't be keen on saying, herself. Either way, that's for another time entirely.

At first she's not responding before there's a sudden yelp and she's taking a sharp intake of breath and staring up at the sky. What just happened? Huh. She's not.. sure. And there's very much someone nearby that she doesn't know and she's scrambling to try and wriggle away with a frown, not that she's getting very far being as uncoordinated as she is right now. "Who!"

Well, at least she can speak. Sort of.

Oh thank goodness. He didn't think he'd able to drag her to a campsite. Mickey holds up his hands, trying to show he means no harm. "Take it easy, miss! I'm here to help! I promise!"

He then looked at... talking-steed-thing, which is what he's going to mentally call it until he hears a name. "Your friend here was pacing around, it looked like you were in real trouble."

"Didn't answer the question!" She's snapping back at him, though she's kind of stumbling a bit on trying to get away and is just going to stop now with a loud huff and instead try to push herself to at least a sitting position. That's... working. At least there's that.

The horse is rolling her eyes and just plopping down near Lydia, welp.

"Anastasia is a phantom steed, I... guess it's a good sign if she's still here." She'd, of course, probably disappear with Lydia if she died or some shit, as far as she knows, anyway. "I'm fine." She absolutely is not.

Mickey hesitates. He doesn't want to be rude, but...

"... Well, um, not for nothin', miss, but you were laying face-down in the snow. I don't think that's 'fine', no matter what world you come from." He gets up, dusting some snow off his uniform. "My name is Mickey Mouse. What's yours?"

Face down in the snow, that lines up with what she remembers doing before waking up where she was. She's resting her hands in her lap, not seeming to particularly notice the cold, but it's probably more than she's already cold enough to the bone that there's nowhere further for that to go.

"Getting used to a body again, that's... all. Lydia." That's probably not the intended answer he was looking for, but it's the truth for once.

... Is this a second ghost? He was pretty sure Gabe was a ghost given solid form... and aged up... along with some other complications... And this island was pretty weird already, why not have some flesh ghosts?

"It's nice to meet you, Lydia." Mickey says kindly, wanting to keep the situation calm and collected. "Why don't we find a place for you to rest, warm up, and get a good meal in you? Bodies kinda need all three."

Flesh ghost is probably close enough to accurate, but she's not keen on giving anymore information unless directly asked. And even then it'd probably only get the most vague of answers, unfortunately.

"I... guess that's better than staying out here." Perhaps, yes. She's slowly moving to push herself to stand, a little wobbly on her legs but at least she's able to stand without falling over. That's progress at the very least.

"Cold isn't something I really grew up with, either."

Mickey moves in closer, expecting to catch her if she falls. (Although let's face it, she'd squish him flat. A for effort, though.)

"This kind of cold is new to a lot of us, so we have to all work together in order to get through it. Don't you worry, we have your back!"

[Well, at least her phantom steed manages to be colorful enough to catch someone's eye, as Muffet briefly tries to figure out if this is someone new. All right, that's not a horse she recognizes, let's take a look at what's over there... ohhhh that's not good.]

[Hurrying over, she stops beside the unconscious figure and addresses the Unfamiliar Horse.]

Hello, sorry to skip the pleasantries, do you know how long ago your friend here lost consciousness?

[Not like this colorful horse can really be anyone else's, let's be real. Though she's cautiously eying this... spider. That's a talking spider, sure, whatever, roll with it. She's still keeping up her pacing, never losing sight of her.]

Perhaps an hour, something like that. I don't know, I'm a horse, what do I know time for? [... That's an oddly good point.]

[Well, in all fairness, she's a spider and she's relatively familiar with time, so it's sort of less obvious where to draw that particular line.]

[Muffet nods to the horse in polite thanks for answering her question, looking concerned as she reaches out and carefully tries to turn Lydia over. Hopefully that will get her to respond, but even if it doesn't it's probably still better for her not to be lying face-down in the snow.]

[The horse is huffing softly at all of this, just letting her do as she pleases for the time being, though ready to lunge at the slightest sign of ill intent or what-not. It's a weird sort of feeling.

Luckily Lydia doesn't really weigh much, most of her kind tend to not to, but once she's on her back there's a brief moment where nothing really seems to change. Until she's seeming to just... be waking up from some sort of dream or something, eyes opening slowly and trying to fixate on the sky or something. Everything feels foggy, not a great start, nor has she really noticed her present company.]

Huh.

[Muffet doesn't act in any notably hostile way, just shifting her grip to gently support Lydia around the shoulders, keeping her head out of the snow. At the sound of her stirring, she smiles gently.]

Hello, dearie- feeling a bit more awake now?

[And there's an unknown voice and she's kind of pulling her senses back together to frown a bit, oh, evidently she ended up on the ground or something. That's good.]

A bit. What happened? [She just remembers walking and it being cold and... that's about it. Huh. At least she seems to be calm enough for the time being, which is far better than the alternatively, not that she has the energy to be hostile even if she wanted to be.]

Well, I wasn't there to see it, but my guess would be that you collapsed from the cold. I found you lying in the snow here- your colorful friend says it's been... about an hour, give or take.

[That lines up. She's just shifting a little to rub at her face and try to wriggle around to try sitting up for herself. She's awake, that's fine, with a little bit of effort.]

Sounds about right. Been a... while... since I've had to even think about the cold. [A little odd and a little vague, but it's at least an answer. She's not an idiot, of course.]

[Honestly, not the most unusual thing she's heard someone say here. Muffet gives her a sympathetic look.]

Do you think you could stand up, if I helped you? I suspect it would be best to get you someplace warmer soonest.

[Sure, sitting up and leaning on Muffet is definitely warmer than the snow, but it's still pretty far from ideal. She's fairly certain this woman needs to be, like... actually indoors, preferably with a decent cup of tea.]

Howdy!

[He's. He's talking to and approaching the horse, because it's a lot more visible from a distance.]

May I ask if you - oh. Oh, dear. [And now he's seen the unconscious probably-not-human lying in the snow. Asgore rushes over, crouching at her side without quite touching her. He can tell she's still alive, no need to check her pulse.] How long has she been like this?

[He's just gonna go ahead and start a small fire, just right here by them both. It doesn't require wood or anything, just sort of igniting right on the snow.]

[Perhaps it's for the best that being a wizard's phantom steed thing is kind of reason to not question how fire works on snow like that, weirder things have been seen. But she's keeping a close eye on him before casually plopping herself into the snow near Lydia, but not blocking the fire.]

Maybe an hour or something? I'm a horse, what is time. [Good point, of course. Though she's just kind of not sure what to do at this point, in theory she should be able to warm Lydia up herself. But not being a real flesh and blood horse makes that... impossible, really.]

First time she's done this, so, like, no idea what's going on here.

I...imagine it is the cold.

[He was certain, but all of this strangeness is sort of making him doubt himself a little? She doesn't seem to be a human and she has some kind of ghost horse, what does he know? Asgore presses a big pawpad against Lydia's forehead in an irrepressibly Dad-like motion.]

She feels very cold, at least. Is she very much like a human?

It's been a couple days into the preparation for the...sun thing. New sun? Honestly, the details are a bit of a mess for Magnus to explain or properly retain, but he knows that the sun's gonna disappear for a while and there's gonna be a bunch of weird monsters to fight.

He's done this shit over 100 times. They'll be fine, they have 3/7 of the IPRE crew here!

So he took a little while to explore, maybe get some hunting going to bring meat back for cooking, and to exercise his bones. He finally got to wear his fancy cloak this, so he's not ethereal for the time being! He's a ghost!

He notices something in the snow through the trees, and he squints and tilts his head but they're too far away. Curious, he makes his way over, blinking when it's clear that that is sure a person lying in snow.

Hero time! He trots his way out of the trees, snow crunching under his boots. He'd call out, but the person doesn't even seem to be moving.

"Hey--can you hear me? Hello? Shit."

He crouches by the person, pulling the very thin cloak off his shoulders, regaining his usual physical form, reaching down and giving them a shake. When they don't react, he uses his big burly hands to turn them over.

"...ah, shit."

Damn it, not her.

...wait, he just wasted a charge on this cloak.

"Ah, shit!!!"

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Blood for the Snow Gods

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lol