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"Y'sure?" Roch asked, already handing over the pieces. "I totally owe you for this--Like, a pizza or somethin!" He grinned Calder happily. "I buy them cheap cuz i lose them entirely when climbin' the mountain. And I can NEVER seem to beat that jackin' teddy weddy," he muttered, irritated by that fact. "Eh, I'll do it sooner or later."

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Shun grimaced lightly as she worked on wrapping him back up. It was still a little uncomfortable right now and it probably will be the entire time he was here. He'd just have to remember to change now and then to help ease some of the discomfort.

"Not out of my left, no. I only have vision in my right eye now," he said. There might have been a hint of bitterness in that comment. At her next question though, he stared at the Vetala. His gaze shifted to those around for the moment, then went on to answer.

"I do not," he replied simply. There were few things she could be referring to right now, "Do you?"

While she might not have done it... her choice was one with weight.

Ouu, so he can't see out of one eye? That was...very sad. She couldn't imagine losing her eyesight at all, and yet there was Shun, suffering from it. Maybe. He was kind of really hard to read. Worse than Riley, and Riley didn't really have many features to judge from! There was little relief in his answer, because it affirmed what she wasn't the only one who didn't feel bad.

"Me neither. At all. I'd do it again, if I had to." She offered the reaper a smile, setting to tuck the end of the bandages in a secure set, and gently pat the edges to make sure it was at least decent. "There, how's that feel?" While she gave him the time to inspect her work she bowed her head, working at the seams on her face, working to peel away the removable flesh.

"Um. H-here...?" She held her hand out to him, and on her palm sat one of her eyeballs.

The tension in her shoulders released, and Riley leaned back into her cot, though she still watched the ghoul with a wary eye. Research for it's own sake is commendable. Knowledge is the sharpest of weapons. Malodore would have loved this ghoul. The thought of it, on another island, so close and yet so far, panged in her heart. She wasn't used to feeling this way about anything, or anyone. It was disturbing.

Once more, Canon would provide a necessary distraction. I am a mindflayer. We are a race called the Illithid, and we can speak telepathically. Technically, we can do more than speak with our minds, but as you can see, that is the most often used function. The mechanics of the action are simple, however. And suddenly, the thoughts Canon heard in her mind were her own voice, and not Riley's. It's simply conducting psionic energy into psychic wavelengths that set off the required electrical and chemical neuron firings that allow you to 'think'. You then 'think' my voice, saying the things I am saying. Or, in this case, your voice.

Riley's deeper, smooth voice returned. It is thought manipulation, in it's barest of forms, but really, it's just the method of communication we use the most often.

Her phone pinged, and when she slid it open, Riley's clinical attitude melted into something much more embarrassingly gentle. She tapped away at her keyboard quickly, writing much more than a quick answer this time, but spending no more than a minute on it nonetheless - it would be rude to Canon, to do so.



She snickered quietly to herself, touching her puffy eye, which had already lessened in swelling. Sammy was right - if Malodore had been there, it would have told her to put something on that eye. It took such good care of her.



She closed her eyes, and her entire face scrunched up in determination as she attempted to touch Malodore's mind. She couldn't find it in the sea of minds across the Isles, but that did not stop her from trying with all of her might. In the end, however, she couldn't tell if she'd managed to find it at all. She sighed, and closed her phone, turning to the side and facing Canon completely.

Will you tell me more about yourself, now that you have me baring my soul to you, Canon Indy? Tell me of this tribe of yours, and why they would be interested in someone like me.

Roch stared at him for a long moment, his mind clearly racing. For a second he almost said something, then he stopped, looked thoughtful, and shrugged. "Hell, why not?" he said. "You show me where I can get a kilt and I'll try it out," he promised. "But a red one. Green ain't really my color."

"Good." Amrita said to both the confirmation and the approval. "You're welcome~" Really, she was just happy to help! Especially someone who lost so much for their cause. As she held her eye out to him, she stared at his near-refusal.

"No? Well...Um." She stared at the hazy eyeball in the palm of her hand. "Well...it can be a place holder? It's well embalmed!" Well she assumed it was; Malodore knew she'd be taking off that side of her face a lot, and it had yet to rot away even when she wasn't wearing it. "Maybe so...people won't know?" Wouldn't having one eye be a weakness in battle? And uh...every day life?

The phone immediately buzzed back, and then again. She felt a little guilty for indulging in texting, but she'd hardly just met Canon - she hoped the ghoul wouldn't mind the small disturbances to their conversation.