logsinthenight | Injuries Schminjuries [all open]

Entry tags:

Injuries Schminjuries [all open]

characters: Fjord and YOU
location: Bonfire Square, The Invincible, around the marked paths
date/time: Beginning and middle of March
content: General catch-all log!
warnings: Body horror (red lamp shenanigans)

A - PATROL NEVER ENDS (All the time)
Getting chomped on by a crocodile spirit at the tail end of February means that, even with a bit of magical assistance in the department from Sora, Fjord is still extremely sore around the rib area. He's gotten a few tips from Soldat on how to bind it properly, to make sure the bandages he still needs to wear are tight around his chest to help brace him further than his armour can provide - but really, the best solution would be to not be out and about at this point.

Not that he's going to stop and take it completely easy. He's still going to do his patrols, with his golden falchion in one hand and his lantern strapped to his waist. But he's being less strenuously intense about the task, for now. He's taking the paths slowly, keeping a bit of distance from the rivers he normally patrols; and using the lessons Jason gave him, brief as they were, to try and talk with some of the spirits that he might pass in the forest.

(They're still creepy, he has to admit. But so long as he's polite, he's pretty sure they don't mind him doing his little magic - casting the Minor Illusion cantrip to create the ocarina notes that pass for words. Understanding them is harder than speaking himself, but he's got a good memory, in case they say anything too complicated.)

B - UNTIL IT DOES (March 11-12)
It's all well and good until he goes and breaks more ribs when he and the others go and explore the courthouse later on. He's still lucky he survived, it feels like - but knowing he was narrowly saved doesn't assuage the guilt of seeing Soldat die nearly directly on top of him, or being unable to help Alisaie more than striking their enemy with lightning so that she could get in a fatal blow, to more than just the bastardous spirit.

He feels like he should be used to people dying when he can't do anything about it. Vandran and the crew, Mollymauk, very nearly Jester and Yasha... It was hard having that feeling of responsibility for their wellbeing weighing on his shoulders. And it hurts to think about them now, when he's dead (twice over now, thanks to the river) and unable to be up there helping them in somehow. He tried to keep himself distracted here, but he missed his old friends.

Not that any of that's particularly easy to get a read on, when he's sitting in the Invincible nursing his new fractures and acid-burned torso. Sora had healed him up some again, but with the new injuries to account for he's just. Going to behave and stay put for a little while. At least it means he's finally using his tablet and browsing the apps and the network.

B - RED VENTI (March 14 onwards) [CW: Body horror]
Fjord wasn't around when the lanterns first started malfunctioning. And so far he's had the good fortune to continue not being present when someone else was dealing with theirs.

Fortune, however, is always a bit fickle.

While he's on his patrol route, passing through the outskirts of Bonfire Square, his crystal-eyed lantern shifts colour - going from its usual yellow to pink, then red, then an ugly, bloody scarlet, sprouting cracks like vines across its glass and leaking water from within, rusting at the hinges and creaking as it swings from Fjord's hip.

He only has a few seconds to look at the change to his lantern and wonder, deeply concerned at the sight, before pain slams into him like a concussion and he goes down with a sharp yelp, falling to his knees, dropping his falchion and grabbing - not his ribs, for once, but his shoulder, gripping it tightly and feeling things start to shift and grow underneath, stabbing the muscles and splitting his skin with excrutiating slowness all the way down the left side of his body, making his bare skin visibly ripple with the sheer force of it, and he grits his teeth together and groans to keep himself from roaring at the pain.

It's hard to tell what exactly is happening to him, at a glance, besides the horrible pain - overwhelming, almost, enough that his eyes are stinging fiercely and he squeezes them tightly shut, barely able to breathe through the stabbing pains attacking his side and breaking through scars and shoving at still-tender ribs - largely because nothing has broken through enough to see what exactly it is yet. Just a mess of bright colours, beneath the thin layer of blood it's all forcing out.

C - WILDCARD

[If anything else happens later on, or someone wants to use a different prompt, this one works!]

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There was a cry of pain out in the forest, and Minimus recognizes the voice while on his trip to the village. He rushes through the forest, breaking branches on the ground as he steps on them with heavy feet, searching for a lantern's light.

He does see a light, but it's a faint red, not the light yellow of a soul.

"Fjord!" He calls out, sure that he's lost sight.

The voice gets a loud, drawn-out groan and a heaving gasp in response, as Fjord tries to push himself up. He's vaguely aware he's on the ground, but he doesn't get much further than kneeling vaguely upright as he forces his eyes open to look around: but doing it means Minimus will be able to see, faintly, two pinpricks of yellow alongside the bobbing red light.

"M--Minimus...?"

Yellow...two lanterns? Why do they move in the exact same manner if only a few inches apart?

"Are you in danger?"

He walks more quickly, though he still keeps the lantern low to the ground to keep forest floor lit, glancing towards the red and yellow lights every second. Soon, he is close enough to realize that those two yellow lights can't be from a lantern at all. They're like headlights. Optics.

He raises his lantern for a better look.

The red light is easy to identify, if only because the cracked lantern that looks ready to shatter is attached to Fjord's belt and relatively upright.

The yellow lights are... less so. Eyes, of course, but no pupil, no distinction between iris and sclera; and the face surrounding them is split skin and ugly growths poking through the blood - and growing, slowly, even as Minimus approaches. "I..." Fjord's voice is a rasped gasp, breathing clearly pained. "I don't knnngh..." And as Minimus raises his lantern, the light will coast over glistening bony protrustions... but the bones sticking out are strange. Flat, cylindrical grey stems poking out of his neck and shoulder, small red plates protruding in layers out of his armour, across his pectoral, urchin-like spikes and dark blue craters, erratic patches of dark green hair - that isn't hair at all, but thick strands of seagrass.

All down his left side, front and back and even up most of his face, Fjord is sprouting coral.

It doesn't take a biologist to know that this is not normal. Minimus carefully kneels in front of Fjord's lantern to keep it still and prevent further cracking.

"Who did this to you?!" Not what. Fjord was targeted.

"Like hell if I know," he growls. He's not mad at you, Minimus, it's just. Everything. His left arm moves stiffly, the bloodstained coral already getting in its own way as he lifts his hand to try and touch his face, wincing visibly on the unmarred right side. "All I saw was my lantern change colour..."

Changing colour...he read about that somewhere. Of course: the log. It's one of the many unusual events that had occurred in Beacon before Minimus' arrival.

"Oh dear," he mutters. "I don't know how to reverse this, but you might have to wait for days. Weeks, possibly." He looks so fragile now, white and brittle. What if he cracked open with one false move?

"Should I call a medic?"

"What happened to you?"

Stone has been around and obviously so (given he has a flight and a roll in the bay waters once a day in his big winged form), but not particularly social, since the memory share event. But Fjord smells injured in a way that's more than just banged up, and he's due for some actual interaction.

"You smell terrible," he explains, which probably doesn't help explain much at all.

Fjord makes a face at that comment. He hadn't thought he smelled all that bad; but maybe he was just used to the stink of his own burned flesh, or it had gotten into the leather armour he wore.

"A group of us fought the spirits livin' in the courthouse," he explains; he'd like to be more stiff about it but he's still got Stone locked in as 'much, much more powerful than himself and needs respecting'. "Turned out they have acid for spit - Javert, Jason and I took some damage from it."

Edited 2020-03-16 06:01 (UTC)

He doesn't smell that bad. Stone just has a really, really, really keen sense of smell. He frowns at Fjord, less grouchy and more concerned, but still a frown. "Ugh. I've run into things like that before. Means they probably wanted to eat you. You okay? How bad is it?"

"Not as bad as it could a' been, really," he says. "'specially with Sora healing it up as much as he did. I've got some scars, some fresh broken ribs, but nothing I won't recover from."

Edited 2020-03-18 06:36 (UTC)

Stone eyes him a moment, then pulls out a chair to join him, without bothering to ask if he's welcome. "Good to see you survived. Did you stop the spirits at the courthouse?" He's seen the sign on the door that says to not enter, though he hasn't been over there in a few days to see the doors unbarricaded now.

His eyes turn away, grim for a moment, but the rest of him stays as light as it can around the old dragon; the sitting next to him isn't unwelcome, but he does stiffen just a fraction. "We did. Two of our team got killed, though. Soldat and Alisaie."

"The short blonde with the pointy ears, and the one with the metal arm, right?" Stone nods, taking in the increase in tension but rolling with it, for now. "I'm sorry. Either of them come back yet?" For many reasons, he doesn't really interact with Soldat, but Alisaie is cute.

"Yeah, that's them. Neither of them are back yet, though. It only happened yesterday." He shrugs one shoulder, and winces. "I'd be there to wait for 'em, but, uh. Seems smarter to stay put for a bit."

"And you actually did the smart thing? I'm impressed. Young warrior like you, I'd expect more stupidity." Maybe he's more of an Arbora-like soul, after all. Like Bone, solid and grounded, just tends towards over-reaction. "So do you need anything? Food, drink, something to do."

"I've been told I need to be less stupid unless I've got someone there to help me back out of it," he says wryly. "Thought I'd actually listen t'his advice 'til he gets back. I owe him that much."

Aw. That's nice. "I can offer to hold you down if it's necessary," Stone suggests with a surprisingly mischievous expression. "In a way that doesn't break bones. More bones." since Fjord's already broken some.

A look of horror crosses Fjord's eyes briefly. "With, uh." He clears his throat weakly. "With all due respect, I don't think it'll come to that. I'm gonna behave."

And not because the idea of being held down by a dragon is unappealing, of course not. Stone sounds playful and amused as he says it but Fjord does not trust the capriciousness of dragons.

Stone is of two minds about the obvious fear there: one, it's nice to be respected, even if it's out of fear; and two, he kind of doesn't enjoy scaring people. And thought number one doesn't really apply when everyone here pretty much respects him, anyway, which means he probably ought to do something about this. "You know I'm not actually going to hurt you. Right? And I'm usually joking about stepping on people?"

"I do believe you," he assures. "But I've had some... negative experiences in the past with dragons, that I'd like to not repeat by offending you."

At least he's honest.

"Will it help to tell you I'm not a dragon? It's just what people here call me. The word doesn't exist on my world," Stone says. "Most of my people don't even get as big as me. I'm a fluke of the bloodlines."

Naminé was sitting in her usual white dress, layered with the faded orange sweater that she'd come to love as much as her other clothes. She had a sketchbook balanced on her knees and was drawing as much as she cool of the area around her. It was easy to be absorbed into her sketchbook and it was only after she'd drawn Fjord that she had noticed that he was sitting nearby.

She felt a little bad for drawing him without asking first.

"Excuse me." She slid closer to Fjord and then paused. He looked very severe. Hopefully he wouldn't be too upset with her. "I um... is it okay if I draw you?" There was another short pause before she turned over her sketchbook to show the picture of the Invincible with Fjord sitting and playing on his tablet. "Because I drew you."

Fjord hadn't honestly been paying the small girl much attention. His ribs were aching enough that he was scowling gently, one hand casually resting across his chest trying both to not put pressure on the acid burns on his stomach and still grip his ribs tightly enough for proper support, while the other taps lightly on the screen.

When the girl approaches him, he doesn't even notice until she actually talks to him; he's honestly not sure what to make of the question, before she's already turning the page around and showing him. She's... a pretty good artist, actually. Maybe not quite on Jester's level, but certainly good for how young she seems.

So he offers her a faint smile. "I don't mind none. That looks pretty good."

"Really?!" She smiled. "Thank you."

Naminé exhaled a slow breath of relief at Fjord's acceptance of her her sketch. It was very rough but she hopes that she'll get better with more practice. She hasn't really had the time to practice before arriving at Beacon and is planning to take every chance she can to get better.

"If you like it, I can draw you something else." He looked a little sad and she didn't realize that it was because of physical wounds. Maybe a drawing would make him smile?

"I'm not much of a patron of the arts, unfortunately." In other words: all the things he can think of for her to draw, require too much explanation. And as much as he'd like to see her interpretation of 'smelly ginger wizard', he's not quite in the mood. "What kind of things do you like drawing?"

Naminés smile widened. "I like drawing memories. Well... not memories exactly but the things I want to remember. Like this place and the people here or things I remember from where I was before." Which included a great deal from Sora's memories as well.

"I have a few pictures of the sun. I think... I miss that light the most."

He gives a long, quiet sigh. "Yeah, I miss the sun too. The ocean, as well, I used to live on the coast." He shifts slightly in his chair, reducing some pressure on his ribs. "Blue water and blue sky as far as the eye could see."

"Really?" She looked up, immediately interested. "I've always wanted to see the ocean. I got to see the one here but the ocean that I... that I was told about was bright and warm. The sun was shining and when it set the sky and sea was filled with a rainbow of colors." She spoke wistfully, as if remembering a daydream or fantasy.

"It sounds wonderful."

That gets him to smile; almost a grimace. "That's not the ocean, up north, it's all fresh water here. That's just a huge lake. The real ocean is like..."

He looks up as he thinks, wondering how to describe it. "On the Menagerie Coast, in summer it's as blue as a sapphire. This rich, beautiful colour in the shallows, and dark as night the closer you get to the horizon. Choppy white waves cresting in the distance like clouds, there for a second and gone the next. Sand as pale as your skin," he adds with a sly little grin at Naminé, "and a sky so blue it looks like someone painted it up there. And at night, it glitters like a diamond, there must be thousands of stars up there, all kinds of coloured constellations streaking across a sky so dark you could drown in it."

He sighs, but it's more wistful this time. "And on a clear enough night, you can see it all reflected in the water, so you barely know where one starts and the other finishes."

"Really? Are they that different?" Did that mean that she could drink the water here? She thought about her journey on the boat and decided that drinking the lake water was probably a bad idea. She'd never been sick before and she really didn't want to know what that was like.

Her thoughts slipped away as Fjord continued to describe his experience with the water. An image painted in her thoughts and her smile grew to a radiant grin. "That sounds amazing Fjord. I wish I could see it."

Naminé scooted a little closer, completely forgetting about her sketchbook. "You really like the ocean too, don't you?"

He gives her a faint smile. "I grew up on the ocean. Ever since I was a little kid, I've always loved going down to the water, watching the ships passing in and out, wondering where they'd go. I swore that one day, I'd be on one of those ships too, discovering the world and doing my own thing."

"Really? I knew a few people who had grown up by the water. I've always wanted to see it. It sounds amazing." Her smile was happy but also a little sad. As long as she was in Beacon, she'd never get to see the ocean.

"Maybe one day I'll go. I hope, it's soon."

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Injuries Schminjuries [all open]

B - Red Venti

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B1

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B - UNTIL IT DOES

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