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 Posted: Fri Apr 15, 2022 3:46 pm
Backdated. Follows blood across the burnt-orange schist.
From Mars to Earth in an instant. Faustite retched, twice, and had nothing to show for it but a long, thin strand of black spittle that dripped onto the glade. He was still upright, though his body and mind reeled with such a far distance. With what lucidity he managed, he saw that they stood atop a rolling hillock, smothered in grasses, with a forest at its border. He'd have found it familiar if stars weren't chewing away the edges of his vision.
He would've been on the ground had Almadel let him go. After a few unhelpful, raspy breaths, he muttered a quiet "Thanks."
It could not convey his relief, nor his gratefulness. Moving his left hand stirred shocks of pain — reminders never to twitch his fingers for a long as he had a skewer mark through his hand. And his other hand was taken up, leveraged as he held onto the much taller, much more majestic Almadel, whose horns were nearly in reach.
With a weak flutter of fingers, he begged a subordinate from the ether. He had many, now, but only one would do. Only one was strong enough and simple enough to follow his direction.
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Posted: Sun Apr 17, 2022 2:16 am
An all too familiar tug of reality being bent around him, shunted from one area of existence to the next. Albite no longer had reason to be anything other than bemused by Ei’s summons. All careless smiles and sighs for the minor inconvenience of the thing.
Especially when it was into such a nice place! Tickling swaths of emerald green, the bit of wind that dragged his dreads — there was something about this place — it was pretty, familiar, and if he glanced around he was sure he recognized the landscape as easily as he did the smell; all fresh greens overwhelmed by….
*Oh-s**t*
The reek of burnt ozone, moondust, copper salts. The unique spark of dimmed fires, the low roil of them against a shadow-cast grate, how that reminded him solely of death. Course, he wouldnt’ve needed the scent of those things to know. The sight was enough. All that ichor leaked free, his boy was a mess of it, limp, broken doll of a thing, barely clinging in that devils grasp.
Albite greeted Almadel with teeth, bared them like the least friendly dog; “********>*,” uttered with the eloquence of a bark - the shortest sentence albite’d ever spoken “Sup almond-joy. S’my boy you got there.” because albite wasn’t sure what in the ever loving hell had happened - - - if it was a date gone wrong? Or if Faustites injuries were the demons doing, someone else’s? Why in the hell he was here instead of anywhere else. Like - oh - a hospital? Albite wanted to know who to punch as badly as he wanted to get his hands on Eion and get him gone to safety. He swallowed around the tension of that, the ticking seconds of shock that made pause while his thoughts spun free with infinite worst case scenarios.…
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2022 8:37 pm
“Oh,” Almadel said, with feigned delight. “Well, it would seem I’ve got something very valuable to you then. Ordinarily it would be in my nature to make a trade with you before parting with something precious, but. ‘Your boy’ has already given me payment.” Technically, he was pretty sure the payment had been stolen, but. Those were minor details. A gift was a gift. Almadel never sweated the details. “Come here, come take him off of me. I have no intention of keeping him from you. He’s lost a lot of blood. He’s so small, I’m surprised he had so much in him. Be quick, I don’t want to be around when she finds him.” Although, he was obviously curious who she was, he had no more information on the matter. Albite looked like he was ready to take payment for Faustite’s injury out of his flesh, so it seemed as good a time as any to plan an escape. “Faustite, is this all you needed? I’m happy to leave you with him, if that’s your intention. If you need me to take you somewhere else it might cost a little extra. But we can discuss that later. Your health is, of course, my only priority.”
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Posted: Thu Apr 21, 2022 6:25 pm
If Faustite had an explanation at hand, he was sparing it to conserve oxygen. Each breath was a desperate one, and each voice sounded a mile away. If he wasn't hugged to Almadel's body, he'd have thought they were far in the distance.
Some of Almadel's words were lost in the sound of the ocean. Something about value, and blood, and taking him somewhere else. "No," he half-whispered, after scraping together the strength to say as much.
They left Tanais behind. They were on Earth, now — same place that he and Albite first met Almadel. Had he another pint of blood in his body, he'd have found it marvelously sentimental, but his veins ran dry and adrenaline was fast leaving him. Were he more hale, he'd have liked to stare at Almadel some more, pretty thing that he was. Instead, he hardly saw in the narrow field the stars left to him.
He needed a few breaths before he could say much else. Must've been the blood loss, starving all parts of him of oxygen. "Medical," he said at last, as his dimmed gaze cast over to Albite.
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Posted: Fri Apr 22, 2022 8:42 am
His relieved sigh for sentences; Faustite's breathy, barely spoken syllables. It was a tangible thing for him, like he was releasing something far more precious than air from his lungs to accompany those kindling dry sounds - a miracle that Faustite was alive *enough*, to leak more than blood and breath. "It's a ******** wonder, huh? S'what makes him so damn special, I think. Heh, all that tenacity wrapped in such a compact package...." precious, irreplaceable, his. There was the briefest hesitancy for the way Almadel said *She*, curious nod and narrowed contemplation tucked away for him to ask after, later. When Faustite was more alive, less adrift n hazy eyed.
N then he was carefully taking the boy, heedless of the way the mess coated the places he touched, hot/cold, seeped through. He made attempts to be gentle of the obvious wound -- was the shoulder even still attached beneath all that ichor? -- Nope! Didn't matter now. The upper limits of youma-dom we're ********, he supposed, if the boy had survived his own shattering not so long ago? Then he'd survive this too...
The only downside to being mostly a body was that Ei' couldn't simply dust apart and glue himself together in the barren badlands of the Rift, no, he needed -- "Medical it is -- you take care, Almadel." and Albite gave Almadel a far less toothsome smile as he shrugged Faustite into a better hold - and stepped back into subspace.
The lovely day and swaying grassy hill faded out; opened into those maze-same halls and false-sun-cast shadows of Negaspace; the drifting scent of caustic cleaners and that specific sort of antiseptic that he'd learned to associate with Medical was just around the corner. He hoped there was someone specific Eion typically saw, if he thought he was leaving him with just anybody?
Hell, if he thought he was leaving him at ******** scary to know that your blood dries cold after awhile, baby."
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Posted: Wed Apr 27, 2022 4:36 pm
His nausea was middling, lost in the feeling of loss — of blood, of dignity, of battle. In the arms of his subordinate, he felt his adrenaline ebb, and pain flooded into the spaces it left behind. It was a dull, dim thing — a radiant ache that felt blunted by his lack of blood. He didn't complain. Didn't say much when Albite teleported, when the forested hill with Almadel gave way to the Dark Kingdom's cavernous halls.
Albite nevertheless spoke. Faustite sucked in several breaths, delayed his response by so many seconds. Shut his eyes, too, as if that would help. "Really," he murmured with as much sarcasm as his bloodless lips could manage.
It was easy, then, to rest his head against the boy's shoulder. Listen to the ocean, wait for another swell of white noise to overtake Albite's perpetual dialogue. He noticed, too, that his left hand stopped paining him. Must've gone numb. But that was nothing to fret about; he was in Albite's arms, en route to medical. Either he'd survive, or —
Maybe he'd see Squiddy in some kind of afterlife.
———
Medical had found a rare lull. Few patients occupied beds, and those that did were short stays — one had gotten stitches and was waiting on discharge instructions, another needed their nose set, and a third was slated for a psych eval. The only one that would require a longer stay was a broken leg, and Bloodstone wasn't on shift yet, so the attendings had her on maintenance meds. Something strong to dull the pain, something broad tor infection prevention.
A couple of the staff found time to sit, chat, check their tablet messages. Grab a drink. Contemplate sending one of the young Lieutenants to fetch food, as long as one of their middle ranks would shepherd them back.
Then the double doors opened. A Super looked up from his charting, read the scene, sighed. "Call the looney dude," he muttered to the girl on his right. Then he crossed the room in a blink.
He reappeared before Albite, and flipped the light switch for the vacant room nearest to their new arrival. "Bring him in here. Tell me everything you can about his condition." Turning, he called over his shoulder, "Trish? Need you in here. Get the TXA." Then he looked back at the patient, and —
Oh. That was fire.
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Posted: Wed Apr 27, 2022 7:24 pm
Any softness in his smile for his boy, any wavering flicker of worry? Fled the second medical started paying attention, all fast words n components that went over his head. People doing their jobs, he knew, but ******** did he hate how it was becoming a frequent local.
Like a regular a pitstop at his least favorite gas station...
"He's General Faustite, if you people don't have a file on him ten miles long?" terse for him, grim, as he spoke he squeezed ever so gently at that injured shoulder. Aiming to jolt an ebbing consciousness back where he could track it's presence once more. To stay right there. With him. Just a few seconds longer, pretty please, Ei! "Usually he's welding torch levels of hot; so this's ******** freezing for him. S'probably all the blood loss." Albite loosed a soft little snort when he caught the widening of eyes and blown pupils that screamed <********>.
He hoped their s**t was fireproof.
"Some b***h stabbed him with -- something," there was probably more, it was probably worse than what he could pick out of surface visuals. He hadn't been there to see though! Knew the porcelain skin was too pale, the blacks overly stark in comparison. That all the blood was going tacky like old oil where it clung. He couldn't've said if the shadows under Ei's eyes were bruises or just 'his usual'. When he actually looked? It was some overwhelming kind of numerous to make count of, the smears of wet blood that had seeped and dried neath his nose, broken? Not? A mess of lacerations n filthy red dust muddled up with all the rest ---- "pretty sure it went clean through his shoulder, can't be sure of the rest. His breathing's s**t, but he's been talking - n a'course? He's still on fire! The one good thing..."
If it'd nicked a lung? If she'd stabbed him more than once? If it'd only run through the meat just under the bone or through the bone entirely? His spinning thoughts curtailed by the one bit of interesting the Super'd said; that'd peaked his fixed attention from his boy to Looney? A person?
"M'sorry, did you say looney?"
There Albite was hoping again, that 'looney' was some ******** quirky nickname, a cute doctorial tease from friends? Hell - maybe they were a fan of cartoons!
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2022 2:40 pm
A youma arrived ahead of the next attending, and was ordered to place pressure on the wound with its numerous hands. Then the other agent arrived with a bag in her grasp, attached to a vial. She was quick to find a stand and hang the assembly as the first agent collected sparse information from Albite. They spoke while Trish started cutting away his clothes.
"Faustite," he confirmed as he tapped the name into his tablet. Soon, a file populated, with photos matching the nearly-dead individual who Albite had in his arms. That he wasn't burning the table or the other attending was itself a grim indication, based on what the Super was telling him. If they could get him through the worst of it, Medical would worry about transitioning him to more heat-resistant seating later.
The agent listened to a wan, raspy moan that came from the General when Albite squeezed one of his injuries. "I'm seeing some contusions around his head, too. Please, get him on the table. Trish, do you have a line?"
"Not yet. I'm having trouble getting his clothes off — there's some metal rings around his shoulders. I'm going to cut his sleeve and hope for some line access." The shears pared away the thick sleeve with little resistance. "He's lost a lot of blood; you've got his file up? Get some blood."
"Right away." To Albite, he added, "Sir, you can wait in the lobby while we patch him back up." He made for the hall, and —
"That won't be necessary, got it riiight here." A stout man with a thick mustache held up a rounded IV bag filled with dark, veinous blood. He gave it a couple hearty slaps, and the bag waggled in his grasp. "I'm not about to waste the good stuff on 'im, though; he's always comin' through here on his last legs. So I brought good ol'…" He glanced at the front "B pos. Heh! Be positive."
"Rockatanskite's our half-youma consult," Trush explained as she slipped a needle into a pale vein. "Can we give him whole blood?"shiningamisgirl sorry, we wound up in medical drama land
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2022 10:47 pm
He held back a snarl for the sudden hands on n handling of his firebrand; followed along as well as he could with the quick paced n clipped commands.
They knew what they were doing - If he could just keep telling himself that? Maybe he could smooth his features and ignore the squelch n snip, the hurried steps and sudden *loss* of the waning warmth leaving his arms; such a slight weight, waif of a thing, but Albite felt the absence deeply.
Ei’d been through worse though, he’d died and come back again, and again, and —- would it be the ninth, tenth, twentieth time that did him in?
*I’m going to kill the b***h that did this.*
He was grateful for every wry twitch and wrecked, bloodless, groan.
Noisy meant breathing meant *alive* - eased some brief bit of tension in his form while he swore to himself, up and down, that he’d find a way to apologize to Ei properly once this was done. Maybe he’d even send the staff some updates for those files of theirs? A snapshot of Val’ stuffed into jean cutoffs? Coulda told poor Trish that she’d’ve had an easier time gettin Faustites things off, if she’d had on different chromosomes that day. At least, that typically worked when it came to divesting Faustite of anything? Add boy - subtract clothing - done.
“I’ll leave if he dies, tell the team. Not like y’all’ve gotta worry bout sanitation right? He’s on fire, after-all.” What in the ever loving ******** that had to do with sterility or space in that moment? Albite didn’t know, didn’t care, not while he scrambled for excuses to *stay*. The thought to further barter for anything — broken by the interjection of yet another voice.
A name he knew.
*Rocktankasite* - finally, a face to place over the syllables. With filthy fingers Albite tangled his mess of dreads back, whipped the locks into some semblance order, heedless of whatever dark printed, tacky mess, he left in them.
There was nothing kind in his smile for the loud portly man, only a slow tracking gaze. He was ‘positive’ that he didn’t like this one, not his tone, not his brand of jibes; as if Faustite deserved less than the very best they had.
*b*****d.*
“Besides - I don’t wanna miss anything important, yeh? S’not every day I get to see how things work with him. N I’ve got orders too.” Strickenized but I love it! Grays anatomy - only far more accurate!
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Posted: Tue May 03, 2022 8:57 am
Faustite gave up speech. Saved his energy for breathing, for searching the star-spattered room for signs of the people in it. Saw the youma first, with its hands pressuring his wounds. Saw the nurse next, though he felt her needlework long before he found her face. Then there was the boy she worked with, and inevitably-there Rockatanskite, and — further out, further away, there was Albite. He watched his boy a moment, tried to piece together his expression in the fog, until another pull of the sutures caused him to wince and bite back a keening sound.
"Feel that?" Rockatanskite asked as he entered the room proper. "Ain't as hot in here as it usually is. I'm guessin' someone got him close to snuffing out." Which was its own fascination — who was it this time?
"You'd be right 'bout sanitation if he was gettin' to the 240, 250 C's we need to keep it sterile. But that? That feels more like a desert summer to me." That one, the one that carried Faustite in? Looked too dim to listen to reason. He doubted the kid could connect heat to sterility (which, laughably, explained why Faustite didn't have any kids), and wouldn't budge for things like science or common sense.
"Here," he called as he tossed the blood bag to the one on his tablet. It was caught, and the kid gave him a pale stare for it, but Rockatanskite thought it was fine. He had good reflexes. "Get that all hung up. He ain't so hot anymore, so you might try an antibiotic on him, too. Something wide spectrum, in case he picked something up from the horse he rode in on."
The other one passed off the blood once Trish finished her sutures. She ushered away the youma with the finished bag of TXA, and hung the blood in its place.
"That won't interfere with his youma physiology? We could call one of our Supers —"
"Captain!" Rockatanskite laughed. "You can't know if you don't try! We never got this kinda opportunity with the fiery one. Now's a good time to queue up somethin' good, see if he takes it. And if not? You can try callin' your Supers."
The other one, nonplussed, sent the youma away on its fetch quest. "Get us some meropenem. "
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Posted: Fri May 06, 2022 10:05 am
If he didn't tuck his hands into his sashed loops, didn't curl the nails into fists round the bunches of fabric there, well, <********> - he might've done something stupid. There were things going on over his head that clearly needed to be done, and he needed to not be in the way of it.
No matter how badly he wanted to just ---
Touch, coo, call his boy 'baby' and smooth the furrow that clung to every bit of his features. To murder with malice each pained little sound. If Faustite would suffer then he would stay; that was all there was too it. He couldn't bear to leave, couldn't blink it out, not when he caught a glimpse of searching orbs, normally so, so, bright, but now?
Gutted for it, all thick swallow n shifting heels. An attempt to track names he'd never heard of for medications he'd not known existed - if they did one thing, another? If this place kept any proper reports -- ah -- except it was nothing like an actual hospital, was it? Not really. He'd carve out the nerve to ask, after, surely, for anything like a download - if only so it could be relayed to Eion; all the important things that went on while he was out.
"S'a ******** summers day by comparison, can't even roast a marshmallow." small talk and clipped phrases, but his gaze wasn't for the rocklobster, was for needles n thread, for -- "Do you get a lotta opportunity's with him?" careful, careful, careful, question, because their dueling opinions set his hackles up n teeth on edge. It sounded to him like -- but no -- this ******** wouldn't dare be using his boy as an experiment, would he? Just, right in ******** front of him, even? Couldn't be. No one was that careless with their own existence.
And Faustite wasn't anyone's guinea pig.
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Posted: Fri May 13, 2022 3:46 pm
"Heh, second time I ever seen him. First time was right around when —"
"Lieutenant," the Captain voiced sternly, even as he assisted his equal in hanging the bag and outfitting him for vitals. "Don't disclose his medical information. You know this — need-to-know only."
"Relax, he's only half-human, so I'm only tellin' half of it. Saw him back when our Queen had that battle on the hilltop. The one where aliens started poppin' up. Won't tell you what I did for him, though — happy now, Captain?"
But the Captain was much too busy to attend to Rockatanskite's showy, contentious statements. Faustite had drifted out of consciousness, and the Captain was alternating between General and Faustite to arrest his attention. The youth looked pallid, and his flame was a mere flicker, though its presence assured them that he was still hanging on.
Then the youma returned, and bothered Trish with a vial attached to a bag. It made grunting noises like something out of a zombie movie, and on the third grunt, she finally paid him mind. As she received the bag, she snapped the stem between bag and vial and shook the assembly. A minute went by before there was clear solution in both bag and vial, and then she hung it alongside the blood with an extension set.
"Now we get to see what happens." Rockatanskite seemed pleased, standing near the bedside with his arms crossed over his chest. Looked down at Faustite, looked him over, grabbed one of the articulated pieces of his grate and gave it a couple tugs, the second one eliciting a weak but pained moan. "I'm gonna say the human side'll thank you for it. But," and he paused, tested the bolts between his ribs, "the youma side might not be so happy with you, Captain."
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Posted: Fri May 13, 2022 11:31 pm
*<******** this Captain —*
He wanted to hang his voice on rungs; just like those bags. Wanted to let the Rocklobster run on with his sentences, to snatch up whatever bits he’d give him unwittingly. Not that he needed any more leverage for the slowly banked rage he kept in a little walled off box in his own mind.
He would’ve liked it though — a focal point that was more than the steady drip n flow of things happening around him - the echos of voices seeking the attention of his loves fled consciousness.
He wanted to know what the lieutenant *meant*. If Agni was unhappy — if —
“Imma bet you’ve got more experience than ‘just twice’, with others of your own kind?” bated breath slid over teeth like sandpaper. He figured If he sipped air through his mouth it’d ease the scent — one small kindness he’d give himself when the sight of all things going wrong seemed right there. When all he could do was stand by unblinking, shifting his eyes from faces to flames to — and if he just kept staring Eion wouldn’t die.
Couldn’t. He wasn’t ******** allowed to!! Not if he just kept staring —
Bit his tongue n made himself resist the urge to pull the lieutenant apart for yanking on his boys pieces like he was more machine then man — For calling him half anything so callously.
“What’s it supposed to do on people, x’actly?” levied over a leaden tongue, perched on heavy heels; less a curiosity than a statement for the sake of making some less terrible sound over the groaning of youma n chime of workings in the distant background.
*If this ******** hurt Agni…*
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Posted: Mon May 16, 2022 3:37 am
"Y'mean people?" The Lieutenant shrugged with a noncommittal eh, "'Course I have. I work as a nurse for a living, had a lot of chances with my own kind. But people ain't like things like him, and things like him don't show up for treatment at a hospital. Kinda goes with the territory, see — if some half-dragon sonofabitch shows up, you think an ER doc's gonna know what to do? Pah!" Rockatanskite pawed away the thought.
The Captain murmured something to her youma, and the creature departed once more while Rockatanskite spoke. Then she conferred with her colleague, where they discussed in hushed tones. The Lieutenant's rambling easily obscured their speech.
"Meropenem's an antibiotic, means it kills bacteria. And normally? Bacteria ain't livin' in someone as hot as him. But he ain't that hot anymore, might be something tryin' to grow in that wound. If we can, we'll head it off at the pass. But who knows what works on a half-youma n' what doesn't? That's why we gotta try — the world ain't never made any medical advancements without a little experimentation. That's the stuff!"
While Rockatanskite had been talking, the pair hung one last bag and attached it to a pump. As the Lieutenant tired of bustling on and excused himself from the room, the two remaining had finished up their conversation. As the first individual left, feeling exhausted by having Rockatanskite's involvement in the first place, Trish approached the hulking Super in his tiny chair.
"We gave him some pain medication, too. If he's still in a lot of pain when he wakes up, tell him to press the yellow button on that pump, and press the green one on the bedside table. We'll program it to give him a higher dose.
"And —" she squinted at the glass entrance to the room, "I think Rocktanskite was messing with you. Merrem shouldn't have any effect on his youma physiology.
"Take care," she mentioned in parting as she started for the door.
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Posted: Mon May 16, 2022 5:47 pm
People?
He did not, in fact, mean people. He also sure as hell didn't mean 'thing'. Was it some weird self-loathing on the Lt's part? Some belittling little quip for his boys existence as a being who was very in-between one world and the next. If the dawning bit of exclamation that lit his gaze gave his thoughts away, or the slack of 'awh' that screamed some sort of realization. Well - it was clear enough to him that Rockatanskite was too far up his own a** to have noticed -- to have cared.
Worked just fine for him. It was hard enough to take the drifting bits of info in, and hold them tight; like sediment at the bottom of a pond. All unfiltered garble, but oh so very important.
Just in case...
It was how he found himself sat and staring at lines that ran with fluids that ran in -- amazing how they'd managed to find a vein where the colors bled through, he'd worried sometimes that Ei was more bone n sinew than flesh, and looking now? The Nameless nice girl became a distraction, a welcome one.
He was sure he'd remember her name someday? Maybe hunt it down in some heavily redacted file kept behind digital red tape; was that a thing that could've been done? That he could do? It mattered less than the murmur of "Thanks," he offered up for the explanation, the kind reassurance that the lieutenant was ******** with him for no reason. Or worse.... That he didn't have the singlest bit of a clue what he was doing when it came to half-youma. That thought was far more terrifying then being played as 'fool'. "You too."
The second he thought they were alone enough -- the second those shadows faded from beyond that frosted glass.
"Ei --- baby --" hushed and quiet, a soft little rumble that bled worry. All he had in his head was nonsense words too tangled to undo, "You n me need to have so many more conversations. Right? Which means you can't go dying on me. Not that you'd dare," How close could he get without crawling into Faustites lap like an overeager Great Dane? Close enough - maybe - to curl his fingers into the fibers of his own dreads; building a secretive little cloak neath which he could make a nest worth laying his head on.
If he couldn't get close enough to touch -- then he wanted close enough to see; every little rise n fall of breath, every fresh drip n where the edges of freshly wrapped sutures held dark stain.
"I Love you too much not to hunt you down in the afterlife -- drag your piss n vinegar spirit right back here to burn with me." watched miserably for a spark of heat - for the singe that'd inevitably seep through and scream 'proof of life' in smolder and flame. He breathed antiseptic and earth in, spat the rest of his sentence raspy and wet. "That's a promise by the way -- a threat? You get peace when I get peace and not a second sooner."
"N when you get better? I'll treat you to anything your heart desires." That was a promise too.
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