lifeaftr | August Aftermath: Make Me Okay

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August Aftermath: Make Me Okay

AUGUST AFTERMATH: MAKE ME OKAY

Who: Everyone!
What: After the harrowing events of mid-month, it's time to process what you've been through
When: August 24th and onward
Where: Ensō and/or Nastrandir
Warnings: Discussions of violence, injury, forcibly altered mindsets via magical influence, and character deaths. Other than that, tag as you go!

Nastrandir: Can I Fight When I Don't Know How
The morning of August 24th, the day after a Storytelling that was notably later than usual, you will wake to the restoration of your average selves, barring any extenuating circumstances due to recent deaths. The dead will rise again on Ensō, at the Storyteller's Temple, while everyone else will simply wake where they last laid themselves to rest. There's nothing left to do but, perhaps, try to come to terms with all that's just happened.

You've probably witnessed some terrible things, over the past few days. There's a very good chance that you were the one doing the terrible things. Whether you were responsible for the slaughter of a fellow adventurer, watched the fray from the distance, or suffered the spontaneous combustion that seized everyone who hadn't managed to shake away their false memories in time, it's at least all over now. Or...mostly.

Any stray sirens that haven't been smashed by the event's end are still shrilling away, though their dangerous effects seem to have been rendered inert without the aid of the broken merotome spilling its memories into everyone else's heads. Likewise, a handful of automatons still wander the island of Nastrandir. Those that have not succumbed to mud and rust and irreparable damage are still capable of firing upon hostiles. Anyone who may have fought by their side before will discover that they're now far less friendly, and will treat former members of the Red Team just the same as they would with any other intruder: with deadly fire.

So you can pick yourselves up off the ground and clean up what remains, or you can say to yourselves: Fuck That, and instead head back to Ensō. Or you could elect to keep exploring Nastrandir, if you're truly a glutton for punishment.

Ensō: Am I Bleeding From the Neck Down
On Ensō and its accompanying islets, it's begun to rain.

It's not a genuine downpour, but more of a gentle, melancholy drizzle. The rain is cool and likely refreshing, particularly if one is just coming away from the humidity of Nastrandir.

Potentially as a form of apology, anyone who goes digging through their belongings will discover that one of the following has ended up in their packs:

[ ♆ ] If you were a member of the Red Team, you will discover that you now own a rather awkwardly-shaped object, about three feet in length. A set of written instructions will inform you that this is known as a redsword, and that, upon placed upon any wet area or body of water, will drain and dry it out over the course of five minutes. This item is single-use, and only works for a ten-foot radius.

[ ♆ ] If you were a member of the Blue Team, you will discover that you now own some very fetching footwear. A set of written instructions will inform you that these are called skip-skops, and can be used to walk on water or wet land without sinking or getting wet. Standard limitations when crossing between islands or attempting to go beyond LifeAftr's limits will still apply. This item is single-use, and will dissolve after one hour total.

[ ♆ ] If you were Neutral, you will discover that you now own, er, this. A set of written instructions will inform you that this object is called a furball, and that it works as a sort of miniature, diminished version of the sirens you spent all that time destroying on Nastrandir. Once planted, it will rapidly grow into a tall, screaming tree full of lorby-like creatures that automatically causes all natural animals in the vicinity to become aggressive for one hour, maximum. This item is single-use.

It's not much, but it might make some of the hell that you suffered through over the past few days worth it! Almost, anyway. In the meantime...relax, lick your wounds, and try and forgive yourselves for what's happened.

Please remember to let us know if your character perished in this event! Remember also that death penalties will be reduced following this event; characters will only need to contend with them for a week, and participation in Non-Compulsory AC will not be necessary in removing them.

If you're interested, the following links may prove handy:

[ ♆ ] OOC Event Info and Plotting Post
[ ♆ ] Nastrandir's Intro
[ ♆ ] Nastrandir's Locations Page
[ ♆ ] Search Requests Page
[ ♆ ] Deaths Page

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, technically, he did answer. He was synthetic, and now he's very much organic. Really, it's exactly the kind of fully accurate but potentially frustratingly ambiguous answer Faust should probably get used to if he plans to hang around Epsilon or Ginko.

So far as he knows, Epsilon is entirely organic now - but that's not really his to answer. So, instead, he just adds, "If you aren't sure, we might want to err on the side of caution. Just keeping the split part of the vine bound together should help if we can't do anything else."

Yes, he knows Epsilon already said it may heal on his own. No, he does not want to risk leaving it totally untreated.

Epsilon had thought he was being clear, and truthfully, he is still certain of that fact. Humans miss things in ways that robots don't, however, and this isn't the first time he's used less direct language (less blunt, less "robotic") and been misinterpreted due to some mistake of attention on the other person's part.

"I'm organic material," Epsilon repeats patiently. "At one time I was what you would call 'a synthetic' and what I would call a robot, but my material composition was replaced completely months ago. There is very little difference to it except that my AI can no longer be accessed or altered and memory is no longer stored on a removable drive." He pauses.

"If your magic works on trees, it should work on me. But I'd rather you not try."

Oh. He was originally a robot, but was then synthesised into this...mostly-organic nymph-like form?
...Faust is far too technologically inept for this subject, if he's being completely honest. So he's just going to solemnly nod like he fully understands the implications of what is being said - which he absolutely does not, but he is missing out a healthy chunk of context as well, so your mileage may vary - and kneel down to pick up the abandoned scalpel on the floor.
Yes, it may be a little insensitive to wield that with which he attacked Epsilon with seconds prior, but someone's likely going to trip up on it at some point if he forgets about it. Or worse, Mini could get a hold of it...!

"That's fine - I wouldn't be comfortable administering such experimental treatment, either. That said, could I at least offer you a bandage for your troubles? I fully trust in your resilience, but...have you been affected by spiritual-based...damage, before, Epsilon?"

Because that's what you've just become victim of, thanks to Faust's newfound inability to think first before acting, and he has a hunch that nobody in this room has any idea how extensive or complicated the damage actually is. Unfortunately, Faust is a people doctor, not a tree doctor (or roboticist), so he's far less qualified to even hazard a guess as to what diagnosis to give, especially when compared to Epsilon himself or even Ginko.

Epsilon smiles wanly.

"Probably not the way you mean, but it would be dishonest to say 'no' without additional information."

He makes eye contact with Ginko and holds it for a solid second, giving him at least some warning that this might get uncomfortable. The difficulty of explaining the legacy of hate that has been passed onto him is that he is absolutely certain its nature is not spiritual... and not at all certain that it hasn't taken on spiritual properties in his transitions between worlds.

His smile turns rueful, in an amused helplessness kind of way.

"A bandage would be appreciated, though."

The good doctor takes notice of the pointed look sent Ginko's way, and immediately acknowledges the potential implications behind it by giving Epsilon an almost imperceptible nod before addressing them proper.

"Please don't feel obligated to share anything you're not comfortable with sharing - I only wish to ensure that you are as happy and healthy as possible, as with all denizens of this corner of...'reality'. Tell me as little or as much as you want, Epsilon. As for the bandage...ah, young Ginko! Could you please fetch the bandage roll for me? It's on the uppermost shelf in the storage, they should have a sharp, herbal aroma, you can't miss them."

Yes, he could just produce the roll out of his coat. Yes, he knows Ginko knows that. He also knows Ginko is smart enough to know Faust is giving him an out, however temporary. It's his decision if he chooses to take it or not, but it's reassuring to see that Epsilon at least trusts the half-troll with whatever they're about to discuss. Even if it's clearly going to be some degree of unpleasant.

He knows what that look means, alright, though he only responds with a single thump of his tail against the ground. Whether Epsilon chooses to go into it or not, he knows what to expect.

What he does not expect, though, is for Faust to try to send him off. Ginko appreciates the attempt at taking his comfort into account, but... it's not like this is a topic that he and Epsilon haven't already been over in some depth. He raises his eyebrows slightly, considering for a moment whether there's any way to be considerate in giving his answer.

"You have some on you, right? I'll step out if Epsilon wants me to, but otherwise I should be fine here."

Yeah that's about the closest he's got.

Epsilon's unhelpful addition to this exchange is a huff of restrained laughter, which he doesn't bother to hide. The act of 'hiding' it would have been strictly performative anyway, but he has no reason to feign a reaction like that.

"It's not a very cheery topic... perhaps we can save it for another time. The best I can describe it without detail is that it's a bit like being possessed, were it possible to be possessed by the emotions of others. It's something I brought with me from my version of Earth, unwittingly."

He pauses. "In any case, I have no idea if bandaging a vine will help it heal. The oil of this tree species has medical use, however, so it would be better to take advantage of that while you can."

...well okay then, that's...okay, sure. The good doctor hasn't touched a possession case since...since...too long, let's just go with 'too long'. Point is, that's not something they're here to deal with right now. So Faust reaches into his coat, produces the previously mentioned roll of bandages...and makes all of one steps forward towards Epsilon, cup brandished in one hand and bandages in the other. Time to crack down and...get to...work...?

"...right then, I'll just...uh..."

And it's about here that Faust really, REALLY stops to take a look at how this entire situation as a whole has unfolded thus far:
A half-troll half-human marred with prominent strangulation wounds shuffling around awkwardly, trying to pretend he hasn't already proven to anyone with a functioning nervous system that he's trying and failing not to experience strong emotions for his 'friend'.
A half-nymph half-robot with prehensile vines extending out from their body, one of which with a small chunk thoroughly barbecued and freshly-dripping with weird tree juice, apologising for getting injured to begin with and offering to have their oils harvested for use in a medical institution.
And a nine-foot-something actually-fully-human doctor frozen mid-motion with a roll of bandages in one hand and an empty cup in the other, fully prepared to harvest the half-nymph half-robot's oils - of which the doctor is completely responsible for the exposure of, by the way - before wrapping it up in a wholly doomed attempt at preventing infection or whatever it is Epsilon can even catch that's bad for them.

............................................................

"...h...ha...hahaha-!"

This is so, *so* stupid.

"-ha...haHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH-!!!"

This is easily one of the most ridiculous situations the good doctor has ever found himself in. After all the stress and the worry and the fear it's just...good grief. Good bloody grief. He can't *not* find this absolutely hysterical.
It's all the good doctor can do to not double over entirely, howling with sincere, honest-to-god laughter that reverberates off of the walls and carries itself far outside into the wilderness, levity flooding the entire room and cleansing Faust of any and all negativity he's put himself through in the past five minutes. He has to drop his cup to the floor and place his free hand upon his head, just to prevent his bag from slipping too far off from the constant bouncing it is now going through. Somewhere in the office, Mini is probably rolling on their back and pounding the floorboards with their tiny fists.

"-w...pffff, w-what ARE doing w-with ourselves?! AH-HAH! HAHAHAHA-!"

Laughter, truly, is the best medicine.

Ginko really, really doesn't know how to feel about the idea of harvesting Epsilon's body fluids for medical use, but-- he guesses it probably won't make his condition any worse? So there's probably no reason to stop Faust from going ahead--

Or this could happen. Ginko startles and takes a step toward Faust, his hands raised slightly. Without knowing Faust's thought process, this is just... bizarre and kind of alarming. Which makes it worrying. "--Are you alright?!"

Epsilon's blink is slow, not so much alarmed as not completely certain of whether this situation is supposed to be alarming.

His eyes dart to Ginko, in part hoping to get a better idea from him, but it's immediately clear that Ginko is at least as uncertain as Epsilon is, if not more. He doesn't know Faust well enough. Ginko isn't sure, either.

His vine begins to pull back, a slow slithering out of Faust's grasp, his head lifted and expression cautious.

And he hates--hates--that his fears are as much for Faust's welfare as the possibility of needing to act in self defence.

To his credit, the good doctor acknowledges how this must look, and holds his free hand up in a motion meant to be placating. It takes a few seconds longer for him to get the last dying vestiges of cackles and chuckles out, but once they've been dealt with...

"...oh, please do forgive me, both of you...I just...realised I was about to milk a nymph's open wound with this, dainty little cup, And I-"

An idea hits him. To better show everyone in the room that he is, in fact, genuinely okay, Faust places his bandage-grasping hand over his bag as if to pinch his nose...and subtly pushes up. Hoping nobody catches onto the fact he's not actually doing it unconsciously, the paper veil rises far enough that Faust's mouth can be clearly seen when he continues speaking - as can the wide, genuine smile upon his lips.

"-and...and it sounds just like a line out of a terrible horror novel, and when I thought of it like that, I just...oh good lord, I'm so sorry if I frightened either of you. This entire meeting has been remarkably unconventional, even by my standards!"

It's a pity he may be the only one in the room who thinks this whole event hasn't been anything less than completely eldritch in how literally otherworldly it has been. And he comes from a world where hordes of genocidal killing machines run rampant in the wilds!

At least getting confirmation that Faust is not suddenly losing his mind lets Ginko relax some again. He lets out a breath and drops his hands back by his sides. "You did scare me for a moment, there... but, I guess that's fair enough. I can see how this kind of thing might be tough to adapt to."

The fact that Epsilon offering the closest thing he has to blood as a medical remedy is (though distressing) not particularly strange to Ginko or Epsilon, given where they're coming from, won't make it any less bizarre to someone who hasn't been exposed to the kind of bullshit Ryslig had to offer.

Epsilon is actually less surprised about the cause of the breakdown than he is by the fact that Faust's mouth, at least, appears completely human beneath the paper bag.

He doesn't let it show, of course; that would have been extremely inappropriate. It isn't his business what Faust is or isn't under the bag, or why he wears it.

"Consider us even for the startle I gave you earlier," he says instead, offering a small smile. He relaxes his vine again, reaching towards Faust with it once more--though he is careful to do so slowly to avoid any more alarm, and it stops a couple feet away from the man, just in case.

Right then! Freshly renewed both mentally and emotionally, the good doctor can get back to work - which, in this case, involves milking the vine of a synthetic-plant-hybrid he has literally just met so that their fluids can be used as a medicine, which is...surprisingly, one of the most esoteric things Faust has ever had to do on the job. How is he even meant to do this? Is it like milking a cow's udder, or a snake's glands?

"...that's a good way of looking at it. And, uh...thank you for your generous...blood donation? I suppose that's what we're doing now! I'll just..."

Faust still looks relatively uncomfortable with the upcoming procedure, but he nevertheless reaches out to grasp the proffered tendril with one hand, using the other to place his cup and dropped scalpel to the side, producing a second unused cup from the coat's unknowable void in their stead - whatever this substance running through Epsilon's 'veins' is, he doesn't want it contaminated by his own saliva.
...
The good doctor's patience lasts all of two seconds before he dares to give the exposed injury a firm squeeze, producing a sound that causes Faust to visibly wince. It's a mercy that the action at least speeds up the process, and soon enough the flow of eucalyptus sap is sufficient to fill the cup halfway.

"-alright, that should do it! Your donation has been greatly appreciated! Now then, let's get you patched up..."

Faust speaks far too quickly as he withdraws the cup, placing it alongside the other items to the side as if he's handling a cup full of nuclear waste, and immediately unleashes a flurry of blurred motions around Epsilon's vine as the good doctor repeats a set of motions so ingrained into him he could probably do it in his sleep. In mere seconds the damaged section is tightly wrapped in a layer of fresh bandages, still the slightest twinge damp from the herbal remedies they'd been extensively bathed in not too long ago - let it never be said Faust doesn't take his medical hygiene anything less than obsessively serious.

"And viola! Or...ta-da? Yes - Ta-da! I would normally advise you further on when and how to change these, but I'm afraid young Ginko likely understands your physiology better than I do, Epsilon. Would you be willing to take care of our mutual patient in the near future, young Ginko?"

Boy, Ginko sure does not want to see this. Overall, he wouldn't consider himself a particularly squeamish man; he's seen and handled quite a few disturbing injuries, in every world he's been in. Objectively speaking, he's quite literally had his hands on worse than this.

However, some things are harder to shrug off than others. You know, like Hector's whole bone-removal thing. And the harvesting of sap from a smoldering wound on someone who he's been harboring feelings for for over two years.

He lets out a breath and looks back over at the two as Faust finishes that up; seeing the wound actually being dressed is a lot less disturbing. He does not, however, keep his gaze on them for long. His tail thumps on the ground a couple times. "I... could, though I don't know how much time I should be spending out of the clinic right now."

The 'sound,' as it's so eloquently described, is mostly the creaking of wood straining under pressure--wood that has, admittedly, already been stressed quite a lot. If it hurts, though, Epsilon doesn't say anything about it.

Instead, he watches the extraction with some interest. He's also somewhat bemused to realise that while he's perfectly comfortable with the procedure, Faust is clearly not. He reaches out to take the doctor by the arm as his tone turns apologetic.

"I did not mean for you to do this against your will." He glances up at Ginko again, uncertain whether to detain Faust longer or protest his capacity to care for himself.

He chooses to do both, looking back at the eye holes in the bag. It will take more than that to prevent him from making meaningful eye contact, doctor.

"But I'm afraid the only person currently knowledgeable about my physiology is me, so please don't worry for my sake."

And he means that to be heard by both men present.

"...o-of course, Epsilon! Forgive me for being so presumptuous. As my patient, I fully trust in your ability to take care of yourself - I merely wanted to ensure that in the highly unlikely event you were to become incapacitated, somebody else would know enough about you to ensure you survive such an incident."

Good grief, Epsilon can pack a mighty intimidating figure when they want to. The apology - and subsequent reasoning - are completely sincere, if not also noticeably kept neutral in tone and presentation - to better mask the good doctor's nervousness.

"...so, ah, with that said, young Ginko-"

The good doctor takes a chance and attempts to turn the conversation back to his fellow employee, hoping that the fact he also needs to address their reply is enough to convince Epsilon to let Faust go - literally, not metaphorically. They're more than welcome to assert any concerns they have in their treatment in the near future.

"-I am in agreement with your assessment. Whilst your injuries are doing the best they can with how relatively recent they are, I would prefer it if you were within arms reach for the next week or so - purely in the interest of being cautious. You are more than welcome to exempt yourself from your clinical duties during this time, for the record."

Ginko's tail thumps against the clinic floor, just once, and he glances away with a quiet snort. "Not sure I can promise that."

Sure, he'll keep his distance and not try to interfere where Epsilon can handle himself - but not worrying isn't really an option, and, frankly, he would hope Epsilon knows that by now.

As for Faust: "I appreciate that, but I do intend to be available if you need me to do anything. I'm not that badly off."

After all, his injury was only ever half the reason he decided to hang around... and he doesn't want to give Epsilon the idea that the results of his actions are worse than they actually are, so far as he can tell.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

August Aftermath: Make Me Okay

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Wait it's been OVER A WEEK?! I thought it was like? FIVE DAYS?

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