nightlogs | SLEIGH BELLS RING ❄ MINGLE

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.

OOC DETAILS
❅ 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's not as bad as it looks.

[ 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. ]

[he really doesn't like people to see his face, she thinks, if he can just strip the clothing with a thought but keeps that glaring eyeless mask on. It reminds her of a trophy helmet she's seen. The expanse of stained white silk - so much! - is more startling to her than the injuries themselves, even considering that it seems they're already starting to heal.

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.]

[ He is not inclined to reveal himself without reason. But also, if Nyara was going to task herself with patching up that area, she may as well get all of it.

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. ]

[Nyara ducks her head rather than meet that glance and misses the color. She feels a stab of pain thinking of Darkwind and the gryphons. They had trusted her until she, and they, found how deep her father's hooks were in her. This broad-backed man, he does not trust her like that. Like her father he has confidence in his strength and her weakness, but it's much more impersonal from him. He's just not thinking about it.

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.

[ His hair was short, huh? ]

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. ]

[Nyara immediately drops her gaze and lowers her hands so she's not touching his bare chest. She picked up on that sense of being weirded out and immediately comes to the conclusion that it's about her touching him, not out of unfamiliarity with contact-healing and the fact that it's hard for her to touch someone without it being at least a little like being kneaded by a large cat.

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.

…What? No, I’m not talking about the cat paws. I was expecting you to grab one of these-

[ 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. ]

[Need absolutely doesn't say see, you didn't have to take on his pain, he doesn't deserve it. Really, he's got a great, active, acidic burn of it going at a completely nonphysical level that Nyara's not conscious of and she's very much trying not to acknowledge.]

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.]

Right.

[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. ]

Yes!

[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.]

Edited 2023-08-14 18:47 (UTC)

[ She's looking at a part of his face. It's a start. ]

It's fine. I could feel some effect from the hands.

[ The answers seem to satisfy his caution, and Nyara is freed from having to make eye contact with Miguel. He turns back around to let her continue whatever healing magic she was channeling through the sword. Such as it is in a Multiversal Adventure.

He occupies himself with picking more silk free of his side, one bunch at a time. ]

Thank you.

I... it is nothing. I only wish to have allies in this place.

[Need thinks there's very little chance Falconsbane can find her here. Probably Need is right, but it's also all a huge unknown. She will, she thinks, do better if she can at least have favors owed to her by stronger people.

Nyara puts a hand on Miguel's back again, this time with her fingers curled so she only touches him with her fuzzy knuckles, and doesn't do more of this curious grasping and looking that seemed to bother him. And yet, there is still a sense of motion somehow, a more clinical contact.

Most people wouldn't easily be able to discern Need working on them. Especially compared with other quick-working Healers from Velgarth, if she's not making her presence known it's very subtle. There is something, though. A careful attention to two or three parts of him at a time, mostly observing, sometimes reaching out. There's almost a sense of heat transfer, like leaning against a boulder and having your warmth leach out into it.

With the pain being shunted off, it's easier for Miguel to tug too much at congealed silk sticking fast to a bit of tissue, to pull it away and cause a fresh seeping of blood. That subtle attention is there, though, and it never bleeds very much.]

This must be from several attacks. You are very brave.

No. Just careless.

[ Accepting a compliment? Nyara is talking to the wrong Spider-Man. He stays still for her to do the work, though.

For various reasons, Miguel has had to be quite aware of the internal sensations of his body after the accident. The itch and writhing ache of mutating internal anatomy was a feeling that was difficult to forget.

So he is aware of Need’s prodding, sensing of the warmth of magic flowing in from Nyara’s hands and focusing in certain places. He assumes it is simply Nyara directing the magic, as the pain numbs over as if he’d taken an analgesic.

He is grateful for that, once the silk is pulled free of his flesh he’ll need to wipe it with antiseptic and that was never fun with wounds this large.

So he goes for the bottle, half out of habit. ]

That seems even braver, to me.

[Need traces novel nerve pathways in the man's head, very annoyed with the prominent teeth and venom glands situation and how they're arranged around the more human-typical teeth and salivary glands. It's certainly not how she would design this kind of thing. Not that she would!

A duct is blocked after what she's just going to assume was a particularly messy bite. She clears that with a flick of attention. It would clear itself without her interference, but more slowly and the region would be swollen and sore for a while.

Miguel doesn't really need the antiseptic while he's being worked on but it's not like there's a shortage and it's a good habit to remain in, so Need doesn't discourage him, busily preventing scar tissue from forming. Massive amounts of liquid silk are probably a better wound dressing for a creature that sheds a carapace regularly than for a mammal. The Grand Elusa might do better to offer it in a more clothlike form.

Nyara makes a face when she realizes he's going to use the reeking fluid again but doesn't object, though she might have if she'd known what it would feel like on torn flesh. She's assumed nearly all the pain for him and isn't ready, so she actually hisses, eyes watering. It's not really a human sharp-intake-of-breath hiss, it's deeper and on the exhale, a ksssh! sound. Good thing her fingers are curled like she's knocking on his back, too, because the claws absolutely came out, prickling her palm.]

Mmh. I am sorry. This... helps?

[ Unaware of Need's existence, he is marking down 'weird mouth tingle' as a sensation that comes with Nyara's version of healing. Toothaches sometimes came with overdoing it on the venom bites, but he was used to that at this point. It's distracting enough to forget to push back at her a second time.

He makes a different connection when he applies the dampened wipe and Nyara hisses with pain in response. What? That... is a disconcerting development. ]

Are you absorbing the pain during all this?

[ Transfering his physical hurt to someone else felt like such a uniquely selfish concept for him to simply accept. He thought she was just numbing the nerves! ]

Stop that. You're doing enough without that.

[The way the wound throbs doesn't match her heartbeat at all, which feels distinctly strange. Nyara's palms sweat and she blinks blurring eyes until they clear, forcing her breathing to be slow and even.

Miguel figured it out. Need nobly refrains, again, from telling Nyara that she doesn't have to do this.]

No, it is well. It was only surprising.

[Nyara doesn't have much practice in outright lying but - taking the cue that Miguel is stoic and self-abnegating - she can keep her voice soft and level, without strain. It really isn't bad, as these things go. She has run for miles with unhealed fractured bones and knelt on sharp stones and smiled with no sign of discomfort.]

I am sorry, I did not mean to make any sound.

There's no need to apologize.

[ this cat girl!!! you're breaking his heart here! ]

Can you just... disconnect while I get the worst of it?

[ Miguel doesn't like other people taking on his burdens, Nyara. Don't fight him on this. He's not going to continue knowing that the action was hurting someone else. ]

[She pauses. Can't she convince him?]

There is so little I am good at. If you do not... [It sticks in her throat, she clears it and goes on-] want to have sex then this is all that I can offer.

[That and having pain inflicted on her more directly, but she doesn't want to offer that, and he doesn't seem like he would enjoy it anyway.

Nyara's answer to any request about sex has always been 'yes', every time, because it's never really been a request. She can pose herself and look inviting and profess a desire to do anything to repay someone, but just saying it like that, not even an actual invitation, was hard and feels intensely awkward.]

...I would not offer something I could not bear. This is little enough.

[ very flatly: ]

That is not what I had in mind.

[ Well, now it felt awkward to be sitting there half-naked with Nyara bringing that up. And the petting, too. Suddenly he is extremely aware of her hand-paws on his back. Had there been some signal here that he'd missed?

It is here that Miguel seems to decide he'll probably be fine with his own healing ability, what was left of it. It feels like the most responsible thing to do at the moment, especially with the apparent trade-offs of the magic. ]

Thank you, but I think I'll handle it.

[ This is about as gentle as he can be at saying 'No'. He's scooting a bit out of reach now. At least he isn't walking away? They can still talk. ]

[There's not enough exposed skin on her face to show it properly, but Nyara blushes at the rejection, feeling shame and embarrassment. It maybe shows a bit inside her ears, which are pink and get redder. She lowers her hand and clasps it with the other, looking at them studiously. The streak of skin where her fur was burned off is about as pink as if it's blushing too, though that's the new skin, that hasn't taken on her pigment yet.]

I - I understand.

[The sensations she was intercepting start welling back up, though they're not as strong now. Need can still work at this distance, if not as well, but she decides not to. Miguel is after all not in danger, and Need has taken care of the worst of it already. Also he doesn't have to know her capabilities.]

[ Well, the pain certainly isn't fun, and it shows in the more tentative way he's dabbing and redressing his side. But it's been something he's been sitting with up until this point, and he's dealt with worse, so he gets through it with simple stubbornness, if nothing else.

That means they sit there in the awkward silence for a little bit. Where another Spiderguy might have found a good mood-lifting thing to say, Miguel simply focuses on getting his task done in deeply unfunny fashion. So intense!

Once a sufficient layer of the gauze is covering him up, he pats his side a bit and asks: ]

What about you?

[ Looking at the burnt fur. ]

[The silence is filled on Nyara's end by a chat with Need, who's graciously hidden her anger at the reminder that her girl has had little experience with actual consent, and now assures her about things not being personal and et cetera. It gives Nyara a chance to stop blushing and feel less bad, and occupies her enough that she doesn't think maybe she should walk away and sit somewhere else.

It is kind of nice regardless to just have people around in the same space as her, and not paying particular attention to her. That's something Need can't or doesn't provide, a sense of physical presence.]

What about...? [Startled enough to look up enough to catch his gaze, follow it back down, oh.] It is nothing. Truly. Need healed it so quickly - she is amazing. I hardly knew I was injured, so well and swiftly she worked.

[wait she was trying to refer to Need as impersonally as possible]

-it. I should... it. [Grimaces a little, she knows Need doesn't like that pronoun.]

You lost me.

[ Once Miguel is fully in control of things happening to Miguel, the thick wall of awkwardness seems to come down a little. He finishes tending to himself to his satisfaction and lets the suit reform over his torso in a wink. The nanotech weave should hold things in place for a while longer. ]

You're talking about the sword like it's a person.

[ Did he miss the part where she mentioned it was sentient? ]

Is the sword a she?

It - ah - I am very sorry. I think I have become confused.

[Nyara, a bit flustered, tries to find a good explanation and defaults, as she generally does, to apologizing and making it her fault, something that will save face for the other party.

With a feeling like a sigh, Need takes pity on her. :Kitten, just tell the man, he's annoying but it will probably be fine. You don't have to play stupid.:

Nyara sags a little. She was totally going to be able to pull this off! Be the absolute fool who personifies objects that don't have personas in front of people! Turn Need into a security blanket! It's easier to be the object of contempt than it is to try to navigate an uncertain place in a conversation.]

...yes, she is a person, or she was, a long time ago. Now she is an artifact.

[:You're still trying to look mad,: Need insists. :We might as well go all the way.: Resigned, Nyara starts undoing her swordbelt. If she can extend the sword in her scabbard to Miguel, he almost certainly won't consider the next statement to be a come-on the way touching a sword strapped to her body might be.]

If you touch her, it will be more clear.

I see.

[ Pensive eyebrow raise. Peni Parker has a telepathic link with her spider, so why not a telepathic sword?

For what it's worth, Miguel has moved on from the misstep earlier. To him, Nyara has the vibe of someone who was very sheltered rather than ill-meaning, and he was deathly allergic to being vulnerable. Entirely different scenario.

So he still gives the sword a try. Reaching forward, pausing, and then touching his fingertips to the handle to see if anything happens. ]

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