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Entry tags:
- aziraphale,
- beckett mariner,
- bradward boimler,
- elle bryant,
- gwen stacy (spiderverse),
- loki (mcu),
- miguel o'hara (spiderverse),
- nog,
- sam winchester,
- stacia novik,
- ✘ aiden price,
- ✘ dean winchester,
- ✘ drift,
- ✘ eddie munson,
- ✘ garviel loken,
- ✘ henry townshend,
- ✘ jennifer,
- ✘ kon-el,
- ✘ mackenzie haynes,
- ✘ nyara,
- ✘ peter b parker (spiderverse),
- ✘ puss in boots,
- ✘ rowan heart-eater,
- ✘ sam wyldhammer,
- ✘ sarah kerrigan,
- ✘ steve harrington,
- ✘ tim drake (comics)
SLEIGH BELLS RING ❄ MINGLE
SLEIGH BELLS RING
Those that escape from the theater all seem to come out through the same doors. When they get there, they can see that the theater isn't actually a building. There's only a free-standing set of theater doors on the playground. At the rear side of them is a brick wall.
Those that exit will find they can't re-enter.
None of the humans have seemed to notice the door or them, even those driving by.
Not everyone escapes at the same time. It comes in fits and starts, them filtering of the theater. Some can walk out mostly unharmed, some limp out, some come out supporting each other.
What they find outside is... uncanny. There in the playground is a massive sleigh, but one that looks not-exactly-traditional, with equipment and boosters that look almost like a mix of technology and something magical.
It's been expanded into many carriages, almost like a roller coaster. Harnessed to it are eight massive reindeer, champing slightly at their bits. It appears the people that attacked and created the theater are at least long gone. That means that as people slowly filter out they can check up on each other, provide first aid, and reassure each other.
❅ Status effects: Any injuries or damage that happens to a character will stick when they leave the Multiplex. That means that someone that gets facehugged by a facehugger will have an alien larva problem that may be causing some serious indigestion soon. Anyone that gets Borg-nanited through the neck will start having the nanites take over them. However the myth healing will slow these processes down until they can get to the Pole, and there are magical means at the Pole to help the characters survive this.
❅ First Aid/Other Supplies: The sleigh will have magically anticipated their needs. While it won't have the antivenom for Kaa because only a magical plant that grows at the Pole can cure the bites, it will have plenty of well-stocked general first aid kits. Applying first aid can help the myth healing heal someone more quickly and is important for injured characters that opted out of the myth healing.
❅ Timing: People can bendytime the timing of when their characters have escaped to play in this and "Let's All Go To The Movies" at the same time. People can also intro here late if they need to wrap some things up in the other post first.
❅ Intro: Players can use this post to intro instead if that's their preference. You can just assume your characters had to run from scary things in the theater and either handwave their circumstances, or assume your character found a way out more quickly than others.
nyara (and need)
[Nyara's lost her breastplate. Her clothes underneath - furs and leathers Need has taught her to tan and stitch, some homespun - are the worse for wear. A few bleached holes eaten into them by acid, some cuts with blood drying. She isn't bleeding now but a swatch of the short sable fur of her right arm's got burned off, exposing her skin. It's dark golden-brown where intact, raw-looking pink where it's Healed.
She wishes she could go back to the tower that's become home. It's been so good to have no one but her teacher around, no one to hurt her or try to control her, but on the positive side she supposes she's truly past Falconsbane's reach here. It's something. Can she trust any of these strangers? What do they want from her? They're probably staring - she's ducking eye contact, so she's not sure, but she's well aware of how visibly malformed she is. If she'd been brought here wearing something with a hood, she'd pull it up over her head and hide her hands.
Looking sidelong at whoever she's standing close to, she starts to speak, falters, and has to make a second attempt to timidly say:]
...Are you well? If you are hurt I can help, a little.
[By which she means the sword she's carrying at her waist can help a little. Need doesn't feel like being known to strangers right now.]
A Friend In Need
[Speaking of Need! If you knew her, you may Hear her soundless, gravelly voice between your ears, whether you're talking to Nyara or a bit of distance away.]
:Hello, child. So you're here too.:
[She may have something to report about Saturday and Guts, for those who were friendly with either.]
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[He swallows and tries to answer.]
I-I- was bitten. [Waving at his leg. The wound, up above the boot, is angry and red and shows the spreading taint, though to his eyes, it looks like it's rotting away.] Poison. I-it is causing- hallucinations, weakness...
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I am not sure I can help, but - maybe. Will you let me touch you?
[Need works better with contact. Nyara ignores the sword grumbling in the back of her head, about being taken for granted; she's known her long enough by now to tell that the spirit just really likes complaining.]
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I- will try not to flinch. ["Good, hold nice and still while we test the weapon on you," the image says. He swallows and closes his eyes again.] Give me- a second's warning.
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I will touch your leg at about the knee. Please...
[don't do anything to her, even with Empathy and Need's guidance everyone here is so strange, and Nyara's experience of strangers is very very mixed.]
...tell me when.
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I am- ready.
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Her other hand is half raised as if against a blow because Need is very aware of how close Loki is to treating her girl as a threat and that he's got quite a lot of power. She can counter if he lashes out, physically or with magic; she's defended her bearers against things that called themselves gods before, though they weren't quite like him.
Assuming he doesn't, Need examines him as only an ancient angelic mage-spirit sealed into an enchanted sword can do, taking in his physiology. She's an expert in how the human body works and this is very distinctly not one of those despite its appearance, but many of the same principles apply. A body is a record of fear, joy, sorrow, struggle, long effort, things done to it... an artwork created by the one who owns it, and Need does appreciate art. Even if she does, to extend the metaphor, always quietly want to take a bite of it.
She can't just counter the venom but she can suppress its effects somewhat, while in contact through Nyara. Make the pain less, make the hallucinations less real-feeling.]
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[He's not sure what she's doing, but he does notice the mocking voices become less solid, more easy to dismiss as his imaginings. He opens his eyes, and while he can still see them, they're imperfect illusions now.
[He also finally gets a decent look at who's helping him. The feline aspects stand out and jog a name in his memory.]
Catra?
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My name is Nyara. Are you still seeing things?
[Nyara's a little bit... the ratio of feline to human is weird. Slightly disquieting. She's more feline than Catra, with a cleft in her upper lip and an almost-cat nose, but not feline enough to be in the 'anthropomorphic cat' category, and her ears are more on the elfin but furry side.]
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Ah, no. Well, I am, but it is no longer- overwhelming. Thank you. You remind me of- someone I know.
Are you from- [what was their realm called?] ...Etheria?
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Need has given her a summation of other realities after they found themselves in a strange city, before the fearling situation manifested. It's still a strange thought.]
No. The world is called Velgarth. I... am from a region known as the Pelagirs, which is poorly settled. The magical contamination is too great for most folk to risk. And you?
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[He shakes his head slowly.] I have not heard of that realm. It sounds- like you are used to strangeness- and danger? [He tries at a weak smile.]
I- am Loki. God of Mischief. [A long pause.] Once Prince of Asgard. [There's pain in saying that.] Lately I have been taken from- one universe to another. This will be my- fourth new home, presuming I survive. [He gives a small rueful chuckle; how shameful would it be, to have lived through so much only to die to a snake in a world after less than a day?]
Is this your- first realm other than your home? I- had hoped to explain things- to others who were confused. I am- afraid I might not be- particularly coherent like this, but- you may ask, if you wish.
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[She says this without pride or triumph. While Nyara's glad she left, it's meant new dangers and more complicated uncertainty, even before arriving suddenly in this New Jersey. And of course there's the prospect of being caught after having fully committed to defiance.]
My teacher and friend told me of this sort of thing. [She's not letting on that she's carrying said teacher-friend with her, but there's a certain pride or wonder in the words. Most of the hallucinations are of people or things Loki knows, but there might be a moment, also, of a tall, scarred old woman standing with Nyara, laying her hand over the girl's.] She said that normally there is the chance to return in time, but that for the unfortunate that can take years. It must be terrible to be uprooted so many times.
What does a god of mischief... do? [Need's explained, too, that all kinds of terms that mean specific things in Velgarth may mean other things elsewhere.]
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catte
He's hugging his side while looking through the horribly antiquated first aid materials. Nyara gets a side glance in the middle of this at her offer. She looked a little roughed up, but not too bad given how ferocious the xenomorphs were. ]
I've been through worse. Missing the regenerative gel back on my world, though.
[ gingerly grabs some gauze and disinfectant instead. Redressing would be in order before he starts to heal over the spider silk.]
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Even if you have survived worse, that doesn't mean you don't deserve help.
[A paraphrase of something Need's told her back at their tower, when Nyara has meant to do something with a fractured arm rather than submit to be healed. The sword fears no retaliation and talks much more casually than she does, and she tenses slightly realizing that after months talking only to her, Nyara might be starting to take that on herself. Certainly that's a presumptive statement to make and he might not like her making it!
:Kitten, most people aren't nearly that touchy about respect,: Need tells her, with that immense confidence that Nyara so envies.]
Let me? At least to look.
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[ He forewarns this before cracking open the kit. It wouldn't hurt to have some help with some of the lacerations on his back, since he couldn't really see them or reach that well.
The suit pixelates away to reveal half of his torso and the accompanying arm. The deeper cuts over his ribs had been dressed with spider silk, soaking up the bleeding until they had begun to heal over. The skin was a bit discolored, as skin tended to be when adjacent to an open wound.
He disinfects his hands first, with an extra alcohol spritzing to the first two talons of his exposed fingers. He uses them to very gingerly start to undo the seal and remove the dressing. When in need of some finer tools, their razor-thin profile worked rather well. He does his best to avoid too much direct contact, anyway, trying to mostly poke at the dressing. ]
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Wow, that alcohol smells awful, a bit like strong spirits but even harsher, intensely bitter. Nyara blinks a lot and tries to huff the stink back out of her sensitive nose, and does not gag or back away. Need, who knows everything, mutters an explanation for her. It kills disease and prevents infection? That would kill anything! The only mercy is how much of the smell evaporates quickly!
Need thinks it's a good idea for her to try it too, so with a look of dismay she puts some of the reeking, cold fluid on her own palms and when prompted rubs them together. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. The things she does just because she's told! She does not anoint her claws, they will just slide back into their folds of skin and any virtue of this quick-fading poison will be gone.]
I am going to touch you.
[In case he's going to startle or something. Nyara lays a careful hand on an exposed part of his back, covering a red wheal. The pads on her fingers and at the front of her palm are softer and more sensitive than than those of something that walks on such pads. With the direct contact she can feel him better, even more so than through clothing, and can start to tug on the aura of pain, taking some of it on herself.
:You don't have to do that,: Need complains. :I'm the Healer here. You don't have to hurt yourself.:
I want to, she argues back, even as she sets her jaw against the feeling. I want to feel like I do something.]
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The rest of the suit disappears off his upper body with a wink, stopping at the waist. That leaves her with the very muscled expanse of his back and a face reveal. (Sort of, from behind). He was just a guy! He wasn't a creature at all. The burgundy glancing back over his shoulder was an eye of an unusual color, but that was about it. ]
There's more.
[ Near the nape of his neck and scapulas, there were a few cuts where a Deadite teenager decided to try and stab him with glass. His suit covered most of it, but a few seams in the nanomesh had glitched and allowed a sharp edge to touch him here or there. His own healing had taken care of the worst part, but even a scabbed over wound needed a bit of care.
He unceremoniously starts to pull out and discard the bundles of silk from his side. They didn't look all too different from cotton, dabbed in blood as they were. The bleeding had staunched itself, at least, but hadn't dried out. ]
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She's pretty tall, when she's not cowering back in on herself, so she doesn't have to reach up far. A bigger problem is that with the way her fingertips are built she's not great at precisely pinching small things and if there's any glass embedded in his flesh she might have to claw it out so it's not sealed under new skin. Nyara is mostly just wiping at scabs and dried blood and serving as a channel for Need and her power, and intercepting an increasing degree of the pain of the injuries and the Healing. He's not hurting badly, by her standards. She can bear it without strain.
Is there any remnant of her claw marks, from earlier? Probably at most there's some tearing left in the pale, dead, outer layer of skin, or perhaps he heals quickly enough that that has already sloughed away. Nyara doesn't feel any trace of discomfort from them.
She feels like she should say something.]
Your hair is very short. [wait that's stupid. she keeps her eyes down.] I mean to say. What is your name? I am Nyara.
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Miguel O'Hara. Mind explaining what the massage is about?
[ He can count being kneaded by leathery cat pads as a strange form of first aid, even for him. But it clearly had some kind of magical effect going on, because there is a pain-numbing that wasn't just his imagination. He stops to turn the rest of his body around, pausing the silk-picking to draw her attention. As Nyara had learned 2 seconds into meeting him, he didn't really do 'avoidant'.
Well, with a little more of his side in view it was easier to see that the scratches were... mostly taken care of, it looks like. The wounds hadn't been serious and by now it had been a few hours. At least Need's disinfecting had done its job. The scarring was still a brighter color on his skin. It would fade with a little more time. So for now, there was a little evidence. ]
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Need doesn't correct her. This isn't terribly high stakes and Nyara isn't so upset that she's about to go into a panic, and for all that Need does want to smooth her way a little she doesn't want to micromanage her girl. She's too close to dependence as it is.
Nyara tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice, to make it soft and meek, but it's there.]
This is what I was made into. It was a work of years. I am not - contagious.
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[ gesturing at some of the cotton wipes in the kit with the non-clawed hand. He reminds himself she is a creature of the Pre-Modern and balked at the smell of alcohol like it was her first time smelling it.
Is he going to have to explain Germ Theory today? He takes out a second little bottle and sets it upright in the kit.
In a very deadpan tone: ]
Okay, this is an antiseptic. You wet the cotton with this and pass it over the cuts. The alcohol spray works too.
That’s how people in this era usually dress wounds to prevent infection, yeah?
[ Miguel is not ruling out magic. He just wants to make sure she isn’t going to pull out a leech or try to bleed out the humours. ]
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I know what i-infection is.
[She stumbles a bit over the word because Need? Knows more than he does about infection, or at least feels like she does, and wants her to respond in a particular way. Nyara does not! She has probably had wounds go bad before - under the fur she's got quite a few scars, just not on her face - and had little idea of how to prevent this, her education largely being void of practical skills.
Also she's not clutching herself but she is favoring her side now, holding on to the discomfort and throb of those punctures he was just picking solidified spider silk from.]
I am carrying Need, and s- and it is. It looks like a sword, but you would call it a piece of very old technology. I do not understand how it works but it can prevent sepsis and accelerate healing.
['It'. Not one of the things Need really likes to hear herself called but she doesn't want people just knowing she's awake and 'alive' in here. If she reveals herself then poor Nyara is just going to be sidelined in the conversation.
Nyara would prefer to be sidelined in the conversation, thanks.]
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[dubious eyebrow raise. he tries to tilt so meet her gaze, Miguel is not giving up on making eye contact with Nyara! She'll have to get used to it eventually. ]
...And this healing is transferred via physical touch, it seems like?
[ The explanation was... a start. Some Spider-people get their powers via magic so it's not like he's never heard of a magic sword. He just wants to understand what she is doing back there! It is his body she is papping around with her cat beans, after all. ]
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[Nyara has progressed to looking at: his chin. It's better than the ground or her hands?]
It is contact healing. Some kind of... current that travels with more difficulty through air. It would work as well if you held the sword, but - [The idea that she can hand Need over and maybe that would please him or at least take some attention off her comes to mind, although she knows immediately that it's wrong. The reason she can say that it's wrong is:] I do not want to be pulled somewhere else and be parted from her- from it.
[Even appearing in a city was overwhelming, and she's been keeping it together in large part because Need is here. Need has an answer to everything. For some reason Need cares about her and wants her to be safe, which is too big a thought for her to hold for long.]
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