EVENT LOG: WILD HEART PART TWO

[inthenightmods]

EVENT LOG:
WILD HEART PART TWO

characters: everyone.
location: all over town.
date/time: march 23-26.
content: in the aftermath of the kidnapping, recovery begins and information comes to light.
warnings: n/a

everything has changed and now i can't tell what matters.

Welcome to part two of the WILD HEART event! Kimiko and the Hunt are here to stay for the next three days, and will be answering all your questions below. If you've got questions for us, hit up the OOC post! Further details on how the Wild Hunt will work as a longterm mechanic will be released in our next gameplan, so stay tuned!

Certain status effects lingering from the torture have been sent out to a few random players, and have all been sent out at this point!

RECOVERY

For the next three days, the Wild Hunt seems intent on making themselves as useful as possible. To that end, they've set up a few temporary stations.

In survival skills, they'll teach others how to set traps, make rudimentary weapons, and find shelter within the woods. The teacher there is firm, but by the end of the first day, has set up a small competition to see who can make the most efficient traps and weapons, with prizes including small toolkits, perfect for home repair, and, oddly enough, small pieces of candy.

The station at the Greenhouse is all about horticulture and farming both. They teach skills about how to plant and grow food effectively, as well as what seeds require what kind of care, how to tend to flowers, and what plants are most useful in healing. There are no prizes in his lessons, unfortunately, but for characters who stay long enough, he'll show them his pride and joy: a flower in a pot that blooms only in the light of the moon.

Finally, over in medical training, there's a woman who knows her stuff when it comes to first aid. From sutures to emergency response, she'll teach characters how to deal with most common injuries. She even has a practice test dummy, who bears the unfortunate scars of lessons long since past. Characters can learn CPR, how to effectively administer stitches, tend to burns, and other such necessities.

While they won't always work for free, at least right now, the Wild Hunt seems intent on charity. Lessons are offered freely, services given without any thought of payment.

THE HUNT

[The woman who stands behind the bonfire seems, if not at ease with herself, at least outwardly calm. Her hand are clasped behind her back, her stance steady as she waits for everyone to settle down and around.]

Good evening.

My name, for those of you who missed it, is Kimiko Yasutake. I'm the current leader of the Wild Hunt. You may have seen us around . . . I'm sorry if we ever scared you, but supplies are limited, and frankly, it's easier to steal a suit than try and make one. Ordinarily, we live out in the mines.

We've a group of people from past resets. People who were just like you once. We woke on the ferry after our deaths, and for a time, we lived in this town and tried to get on with our lives.

But that wasn't enough.

[She pauses, then. Takes a breath, hesitates, and then resolves herself.]

I-- before I go on, I want to tell you a bit about myself. I think it will help you all understand.

I was a farmer when I was alive. A rice farmer, specifically. My entire family was, and we always had been. And we had a horse. Just the one. She was a vital part of it, though; without her, my father couldn't take as much into town to sell.

And then one day, she misstepped and broke her leg.

Horses can't recover from that. I don't know if any of you have ever dealt with one, but they just can't. It's inhumane to keep them alive afterwards, never mind try and set the leg. It's agony for them, and it usually ends with their deaths regardless. But we needed that horse, and so he tried.

And then, three days later, we had to put her down anyway, because she was suffering. Only a sadist would have kept her alive.

This world is broken. You must see that. It was vibrant once, alive, just as we all once were, but that's gone now, and you can't grasp for things you've lost. You can't . . . this isn't life. It's a pale imitation of it.

So please . . . try to understand what I mean when I tell you that the Wild Hunt's goal is not to hurt others. We have no interest in making you suffer in the least.

But to allow this place to live is every bit as cruel as my father leaving that horse alive was. It's selfish to keep that portal open, to force tens of hundreds of souls into living here only to be reset or killed or eaten. And I refuse to allow it to keep happening. I simply will not, I cannot in good consciousness force others to go through this over and over again.

We're the Fire Snatchers, yes. Because we believe that extinguishing the lanterns, the bonfire, the lighthouse, and killing this world once and for all is the only humane thing to do. Even if it kills we all of us stuck here as well.

[There's a pause, and then Kimiko exhales slowly.]

If you have questions, I'll be around for three more days.

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Comments

[fjorgedinfire]

Recovery - March 23-24
As beaten up as he is, as sore and tired and in desperate need of rest, he still wants to help. Needs to, really - keep his hands busy so his mind can't wander, focus on something productive before he crashes and cements all of the bullshit that just happened into full blown fear.

He refuses to let them take the ocean from him.

The idea of horticulture, he doesn't give a second thought (and he hasn't got the energy to get to the greenhouse anyway). If Caduceus was here, he might go with him, but there's no appeal to him in plants. Survival, he doesn't need. He's well aware of how to make it through a forest in one piece, how to hunt and set traps (crude as his own methods are, comparatively). But the medical training holds a much higher interest for him. He's gotten the impression, largely from needing Sora's magic so frequently, that actual medical skills are in short supply here: so even if he only learns something basic, while they're here to teach it, that's at least something.

He hasn't quote got the dexterity for stitches, as it turns out - his are okay, but not great - but he gets good at wrapping bandages very quickly. All the practice on his own ribs has helped a lot. And hey, when someone else starts working on bandaging, he even makes the offer, with a rather grim humour to his voice: "You know, if y'all want some live practice setting ribs, mine are still pretty tender." He's certainly still wheezing enough that he could clearly use the help.

Downtime
Unfortunately, he still needs to rest. And do some other things; follow his old habits, get back into a routine. When he's taking a break from the training, he can be found exclusively in Bonfire Square: raiding the general store for canned goods to store in his bag of holding, resting in the Invincible when his breathing gets too tricky. He doesn't even attempt patrol yet, he's not sure he'll make it out of the village.

But there's something odd about him, as he goes about his business - and when he's doing the medical training too, though it's less obvious there from all the lights. Spirits are giving him a wide berth; and when he tries to talk to the one currently manning the general store they're oddly reticent, clearly uncomfortable at his presence, and dashing off as soon as Fjord turns away.

Because when he's in the dark - whether genuinely alone, or just a shadow happens to catch his face just so - his eyes glow green. Just faintly, but distinctly, visibly so.

Down with the Sickness - March 25 onwards (CW: vomit, sickness)
When the third day rolls around, and the Wild Hunt starts clearing up their business, Fjord is nowhere to be seen.

He's still in his room at the Invincible, which means he's not hard to find - for a given value thereof. His lantern is sitting on a side-table next to his bed; but the eye-like crystal is pale and matte, its glow so faint and flickering that it's impossible to see the rest of the room. Fjord's pained wheezing is audible, in the room, but now it sounds... worse.

His eyes aren't glowing anymore, but he's wound up in a heap on the floor near the bathroom, shivering violently. The acrid smell of bile hangs in the air, and his hacking cough (worse by the day, it seems) can be clearly heard from outside the room.

Downtime

[worthallthis]

With a whole set of clothes ruined, and a tac vest to repair, and finally let out from under Misty's watchful eye, Soldat has ended their morning patrol at the general store, just in time to see the vendor scuttle away and disappear... away from Fjord.

That's kinda weird.

"Fjord. Shouldn't you still be in bed." Broken ribs. Multiple drownings. That alarming little rasp in his breathing. (Fuck no. No breathing problems.)

[fjorgedinfire]

Fjord doesn't look up at him immediately, still staring after the spirit. "I, uh. I was, but. I'm still not much for lying around. I'm not doing my patrol, at least?" he offers, like it's some sort of trade-off. "I'm almost taking it easy."

He looks at Soldat then, as he finishes talking. The torch on the counter casts a strong light, enough that half of his face is in shadow when he turns, and the one eye in darkness glows green.

[worthallthis]

Soldat twitches back involuntarily, startled, a flash of the attack just a few days back flitting across their brain.

But the smell is right. The rasp is still in the lungs. The green-eyes wouldn't fake that.

"Your. Eyes are glowing," they say.

[fjorgedinfire]

Fjord can't help but start when Soldat jerks back, even if it's only a bit. He looks... kind of horrified to know that, actually.

"What?"

He looks around quickly, where the hell is a reflective surface when you need one.

[worthallthis]

Soldat can oblige. They managed to collect at least some of their knives from the sites of their abduction and torture, and made a stop at the armory for a few more on this morning's patrol, so they slip a small, wide-bladed one out of a sheath and offer it hilt-first to Fjord. It is pretty nicely reflective.

[fjorgedinfire]

He takes the knife, too distracted to really give Soldat thanks for it, and tries to angle it so that the light from the torch doesn't blind him when he tries to get a good angle. It does mean that he's mostly facing into the light, though. "You sure? I don't see it."

[worthallthis]

Yeah, angle's all wrong, pal. It's not like it's a bright glow. "Turn a little more towards me and keep your head between the torch and the knife. You'll see it." At least they didn't expect thanks.

[fjorgedinfire]

He shifts his footing, tries the new angle on the knife - and Soldat will see both eyes go green.

And Fjord immediately flips the knife in his hand to pass the hilt back to Soldat, shutting his eyes to rub them with the other hand. Like that'll help somehow. "What the fuck."

Down with the Sickness

[arsarcanum]

Fjord. Fjooord. Sora's been relieved to see him around the Wild Hunt stations, definitely ribbed him a little at the medical station when he saw him there. (Get it? Get it? Because. The. Hm.) So when he disappears after that, he doesn't get too alarmed until he realizes that the tall watery guy hasn't quite gotten back to his patrols. Fjord's not Soldat, Sora doesn't expect him to be back on the trail so soon, but he does want a chance to check in on him, and their patrols were usually when he did that. So.

Knock knock, buddy. Sora's made the trip all the way from the Landmark to the Invincible. He's got food in his hands - soup in a container - and a smile on his face! The latter, however, will fade as he hears that cough. Huh. Bad. He taps louder. "Hey, uh, Fjord? Can I come in?"

[fjorgedinfire]

There's not an immediate response from behind the closed door. There's a loud murmur, unintelligible except for the questioning tone; then violent, wheezing coughs, the drawn-out painful-sounding kind where less and less air seems to be getting drawn back in. That turns to short, sharper coughs, then to retching; and then the faintest sound of something splattering on the wooden floor.

At least the door's not locked.

[arsarcanum]

Oh, good, 'cause Sora's going to just open this door and walk right in at the coughing, and he is going to put this soup aside and rush on in as soon as Fjord gets to the hurling part of his little gauntlet. That's not anywhere remotely near good! What the heck.

"Okay, let's - oh no -" Sora doesn't quite get a pantleg out of the way of that particular upheaval, but he's got a hold of Fjord now. He's putting a hand to his head, hoping that their biologies are close enough to measure the difference between their two temperatures. "Okay, bathroom? Bathroom. Work with me, Fjord." And off they hop. C'mon, Fjord, you can do it.

[fjorgedinfire]

Does it make it better or worse that the vomit is mostly just a few thin lines of colourless bile? He clearly hasn't been able to stomach enough to make actual vomit, and his breathing sounds more rattling and shorter than ever. And when Sora touches his forehead, even he will be able to tell easily that Fjord is absolutely burning up, despite how violently he's shivering.

"Sora..." His voice is a hoarse whisper, the name barely audible through the wheezing, and whenhe coughs again he half slumps against Sora when his own body fails him.

[arsarcanum]

Well, it's not great either way! That means he hasn't been able to keep liquid down. Sora catches Fjord in his arms, eyes wide in panic. Man, this is a different level of sick. Fjord needs a doctor, not a guy who never went to college and a container of chicken soup.

Anyway, Sora's going to haul Fjord over to the bathroom - thank god for the cybernetics, at least the only struggle is keeping Fjord's limbs from flying all over the place - and park him right on the toilet. "Hang on." He gets some towels from a cupboard, loads them down with cold water, and slaps them right on him. Okay. That's basic first aid. Cleaning up everything can come later.

He'd ask Fjord how long he's been like this, but he can kind of get the picture - maybe a couple days, no more than that. "Fjord, c'mon," he mutters, holding the guy upright as best as he can. "Who's taking care of you, man? Huh?"

[fjorgedinfire]

At least he's not all wrapped up in armour, since. Evidently he must've just gotten out of bed and collapsed. So the soaking towels get a sharp gasp out of him that turns into more coughing, and more shivering, as the cold water soaks into his clothes and bandages.

He can almost support himself on the toilet: it takes both arms gripping the porcelain and he doesn't seen quite balanced, but he is hovering over the toilet. And heaves again, but nothing comes out except a long, single drip that he wipes off with the back of his bare arm.

"I'm..." boy he sounds out of breath. "Haven't seen... 'nyone..." His accent is wrong too, back to the British style Sora might remember from their failed river trip.

[arsarcanum]

Sora's on that next, but not really active doing anything about it just yet, just cataloging the situation. How long has Fjord been in these clothes, these bandages? Have they been changed since the Wild Hunt came by with their medical station? (By now, Sora's been trained in first aid twice, but without a lot of experience, he feels more underprepared than he probably actually is.)

More towels, this time dry. He'd go grab the blankets off the bed, but he's not risking leaving Fjord's side. That's concussion zone, man. "In days?" Sora puts the towels over Fjord's shoulders, carefully avoiding the wet towels, and starts mopping him of anything dribbling, sweat and vomit specifically.

He closes his eyes. He is trying to remind himself that this isn't his fault, that that's not even the issue here. Opening them again. Okay. "I'm gonna stay with you, and I'm not gonna leave until you're back in bed and sleeping. Okay?"

[fjorgedinfire]

There's a definite strong odour of sweat to Fjord, but given how high his temperature is, that's not really a precise gauge to his cleanliness. He recoils a little from the wiping, but it's not like he can go far, and it won't be enough to effectively inhibit Sora.

"Cant sleep," he mumbles, barely able to keep his eyes open. "Keep... stomach feels like shit..."

Down with the Sickness - March 26th

[really_sketchy]

It took Naminé several days to make her way to Fjord. She had to find out where he lived and then have the energy to make it across Beacon without collapsing. Despite her best efforts, and a few failed attempts, she made it to his door.

She hoped that this was his door.

Her knuckles wrapped gently on the door but she didn't have the strength to knock very loud. "Fjord? It's me... Naminé. I wanted... I wanted to make sure you were okay." She didn't hear anything and knocked again. When silence followed she began to worry and tried to see if the door was unlocked.

"Fjord? Are you okay?" She was sure that he would be home... was something wrong? Then she heard the loud coughs from inside.

Naminé pushed her way inside and searched for the familiar green half orc. "Fjord?" She wasn't really in good shape. Her arms, legs and neck were bandaged with clean white fabric and she moved that suggested that everything took more effort than it should.

[fjorgedinfire]

The door is indeed unlocked, but as she walks in the room smells of sweat and vomit; not as bad as their cell, by any stretch, but stagnant and unpleasant.

At least her trip over took so long that Fjord is back in bed, but he doesn't sound well. His breathing is a hoarse, unpleasant wheeze, rasping so much that it sets off another coughing fit as Naminé sets foot inside and forcing him to curl up from the shockwaves it sends shooting through his ribs.

But at least it means he rolls towards Naminé, and his yellow eyes are barely visible in the gloom behind his flickering lantern. "N... Naminé...?"

[really_sketchy]

Naminé froze in place when the familiar sickening smell of bile filled her nose. She felt the cold walls of their prison enclose her, pressing against the soles of her feet and then the memory was gone. She caught her breath and moved towards Fjord's bedside.

"It's me. You don't have to talk." She carefully sat down and shifted the blankets so she could see the top of his head. Her fingers were wrapped in there white bandages but cold from her long trip outside. "You have a fever."

Naminé brushed back a few pieces of hair. "Have you been like this the whole time?" Her mouth tilted into a frown. She hadn't been able to get here any sooner but now she wishes she had.

[fjorgedinfire]

Fjord's skin is almost unbearably hot to her cold fingers, and his hair is greasy and unwashed. And he's pushing back some of the blankets, shifting to push himself up with what looks like massive effort; especially since he's still shivering violently, and bandages are visible high on his bare chest.

"What're you... doin' here...?" His voice is husky, his breathing painfully short and every breath has an audible rattle. "Yer hurt..."

[really_sketchy]

"I'm healing." Her voice was gentle and soothing as she placed her palms on his shoulders to indicate that he should lay back down. "you aren't. I'll be okay." Naminé smiled then and despite the state of his hair, she gently ran her fingers through it it in hope that the gesture might be soothing.

"Stay here. I'm going to get you some water and a cold rag and clean up some. I'll get you a trash can before I leave and you can throw up in that without moving off the bed." She didn't know how to treat someone who was sick but she could clean up and keep him company for as long as possible.

It was better than being on her own.

[fjorgedinfire]

With how hard it is to push himself up, it takes very little effort to convince him to lie back down, and his eyes close at the gentle touch in his hair. It's nice. Soothing, especially with how cold Naminé's hands are.

"Don't..." His arms are over his covers now, and he lifts one to wave vaguely. "Don't go worryin'... 'bout me. You're hurt too..."

Says the half-orc whose lantern is so dim it barely lights him up, and it's right next to his bed.

[really_sketchy]

"Even if I wasn't here I'd be worried." Her expression remained steady and kind as she spoke. "Won't you let me try and do something for you, even if it's just as much for me as it is for you?"

Naminé pauses and gently placed her hand over her heart. "I know I should rest but I don't want to be alone." Her gaze drops and she shakes her head. "I hate it."

"But-" She looked back at him and placed her fingers on his cheeks, hoping that the cold touch might help a tiny bit. "If I help take care of you, then I won't be alone and neither will you. Is that okay?"

[fjorgedinfire]

With her hand on his chest, she'll be able to feel him shivering, and the deep, wet rasping in his lungs when he takes a breath.

Fjord leans into the cool touch against his face automatically (which says a lot about how sick he is, that he even lets it happen) and closes his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath.

...only it's too deep, apparently, and his entire body stiffens, contorts as he turns away from Naminé to cough in drawn out, breathless wheezing hacks. He's still tense at the end of it, a raw moment of uncertainty; but he soon relaxes, when his stomach doesn't do more than ache.

His voice is worse when he whispers to her, "Just be careful..."