Online RP Thread (Lead up to Bloody Valentine)

Archive 33AR
#81

Zek pauses for a moment. No, those options don’t sound particularly appealing to him, not least of all because he’ll become a Society test subject. Yet another mechanical marvel. The calm that he has managed to piece together threatens to fall away for a moment, and it takes a lot of strength to hold onto it.

A donor body, Zek thinks. The tongue of a corpse. Taking something away from a resurrected… no. He wouldn’t mind it so much if there weren’t other options on the table, but at the same time, becoming more mechanical is also something he wants to avoid. Nothing electronic wringing thoughts out of his brain, no psyche-powered bull… what could he do?

He hoped that Jane wasn’t kidding when she said she had an idea. There were a few of them, good souls, who had thought they might be able to fetch something from the underworld, and who was he to doubt them? He wanted to see it for himself, and seeing as there didn’t seem to be much appreciable value in the trip otherwise, he may as well find a voice there.

Zek realises that he’s still staring at Daniel, lost in thought. He doesn’t want to seem rude, really, and he starts sifting again. ‘GOOD’ comes easily, but seems overly blunt. He realises he’s shifted ‘THANK YOU’ to the bottom of the deck, and goes searching for it.

#82

“6 months,” she says. “Almost my whole life. I was resurrected in India, though.” She searches for words. “I suppose I’m lucky. Homunculi don’t have families, really, but there are a lot of people I care about here. My-, well, #99, the other homunculus in Hanover camp was resurrected here. I guess that makes us almost natives. I’d certainly find it hard to live anywhere else, although, of course, if the Company needs me somewhere else…”

She watches him look at the others.

“They’re good people. But these few months have been hard on them. As they probably have been on the Chinese front.”

#83

“hard all over #74, don’t matter where you go, and i’m sure your right, but I’m the new lad on the street 'ere, so it’ll take a bit to find me bearings”

#84

Lewy stares in amazement at the baby in his arms. Her eyes are so wide, and deep. Just like the sky, he thinks to himself.

Something wet runs down his cheek, but he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t even see Harriet anymore. No longer hears the murmur of conversation in the Taverna. He’s in an old house in the mountains, his new born son in his arms. Sophia is recovering in the next room, being fussed over by one of the survivors they’d rescued from Griefswald. He smiles at his son. Has it really only been six days? He can’t really believe it. It feels more like six centuries.

A scream from outside. The smell of charred flesh. Lewy puts down his son, for the first and last time.

He hears something. His name, he realises slowly. Someone is shaking his shoulder, asking if he’s okay. He tries to respond, but his lungs don’t have the air. Someone takes Harriet away from him, and he tries to take her back but someone’s holding his arms. Demons, he screams silently.

#85

“I’d be happy to show you around,” she says, beaming. “We’re quite proud of what we’ve done here. Zek’s got us planting good crops, so we don’t starve. All our bunkhouses are in good repair. Our latrines are state of the art. The smaller villages are lovely, too, and despite the overcrowding, we’re not doing too badly. I’ve been all over the Island, so if you need an introduction, just let me know.”

She sees Zek wander in and waves at him. He looks haggard, but losing a tongue will do that for you. Jane’s been talking about how to get him a new one. She hopes that Jane can; people have been trying with homunculus-human transplants and it never ends well. Once blood becomes ichor there’s no turning it back.

There’s a noise from beside them; Lewy is making a noise that is inhuman but all too familiar, and grasping little Miss. North tightly.

#86

“I’d appreciate that, got to say its a lot better than the trenches and shell holes we dug out round beijing, reckon you lot got it made 'ere”

#87

[quote=“DapperAeronaut”]
He hears something. His name, he realises slowly. Someone is shaking his shoulder, asking if he’s okay. He tries to respond, but his lungs don’t have the air. Someone takes Harriet away from him, and he tries to take her back but someone’s holding his arms. Demons, he screams silently.[/quote]

Ivy is just leaning against the bar taking in the comings and goings. #74 seems content to chat to the new comer so she turns her back on the room and starts heading into the back room.

She hasn’t taken a step when she hears a strangled sound of grief from behind her. Spinning around she sees Lewy, clutching at Harriet too hard, tears streaming down his face.

She takes the couple of steps needed to reach him hurriedly. “Lewy? Are you all right? Let go of Harriet Lewy.” She reaches forward and gently lifts the baby from his arms, stepping back quickly as someone else grabs him from behind, trying to calm him.

#88

Dray moves toward lewy and starts to talk to him trying to get him to come back to reality.

“what?..demons what are you on about” Dray puts his hand onto lewys shoulder to try calm him down.

#89

[quote=“inhumangrunt”]
“what?..demons what are you on about” Dray puts his hand onto lewys shoulder to try calm him down.[/quote]

Esther rushes over from the bar, her search for a clean glass forgotten.

“No demons,” she assures Dray, then sits beside Lewy, placing a hand on his arm. “Lewy, there are no demons- I promise. You’re safe. Lewy?” She slips her arm around his shoulder. “Let’s go to the back room,” she tells him, then looks up at Ivy. “Would you please look after Harriet for a little while?”

#90

A demon had him by the shoulder. They had taken the baby, and now they were going to take him. “NO!” he screams defiantly, and struggles free. He leaps to his feet, ready to fight to the very last. “Not this time!”

And then he falls, his leg unable to support his weight. The pain brings him back, a stabbing light that tears away the shadowy demons. Ashamed, he curls into a ball, unable to face the stares of the others. Unable to look Esther in the face.

“Sorry,” he finally manages. “I don’t know what… I… I should go.”

#91

Ford surveyed the new cottage with wry amusement. He hadn’t asked for it, had no real need for it either, but #74 had been quite insistent. Still, she’d done a fine job, and it would be a good new location for producing his famous Forest cider, after that unfortunate incident with the exploding barrels at the old place. Plenty of time for that later though, he thought to his self, clambering onto the roof so as to catch the last of the sun better.
Lying back with a contented sigh, hip flask in hand, he adjusted his hat to shield his face. It was a new hat, and he paused briefly to look at it, reflecting on recent events. All in all, he’d done quite well out of the big battle with those Campbell bastards – a very fine hat, a gun, even a fancy cape that he was especially pleased with. Strangely, he hadn’t felt right borrowing anything from his new friends at the camp. As a matter of fact, with all the chaos and so many people in need of medical treatment, it had seemed a good idea to return all the assorted hats and swords and guns and what have you left lying around to the people he knew they belonged to, figuring it might make them feel a little better while they recovered. He’d even brought back the sword belonging to that Cormac fella who’d died, even though he hadn’t been very nice to Ford the night before, because things had been a little tense and Cormac certainly had been one of the bravest men Ford had ever met. Ford didn’t like to admit it, but he wasn’t nearly as tough or as brave as he liked to make out.
Of course, he had responsibilities now, what with being an official messenger to Her Queenliness and all, not to mention keeping the residents of the camp safe. He wondered if Valencia was back to her old self again yet, before the battle she’d been all for heading off to rescue someone, Gidget or Gadget, something like that, and he figured maybe him and Dray should tag along to help. Apparently this person who needed rescuing was in some place called Theebs. Ford didn’t know where that was, but he’d been told it was far away, further away than Glasgow even. Abruptly, Ford sat up, pushing his hat back up. Strange, could’ve sworn he’d heard a strange noise just then, like a scream. But from his vantage point the parts of the camp he could make out seemed peaceful enough. There went #74, rushing about with more bits of paper, and some new fella he didn’t recognise, but who didn’t seem to be causing any trouble. He pondered her for a while, couldn’t keep calling her #74, that would never do. She needed a proper name, an F name. Oh well, something to think about.
Suddenly his reverie was interrupted, as nearby there was a muffled shriek, followed by a splash.
Forgetful had fallen in the well again.

#92

Unfortunately, Dahlia was paying more attention to her father than this, and by the time she had come up with an answer, all (including her father) were looking at her in hopes of an answer.

“Well” she thought aloud, “perhaps it would be best for us to wait before any attachment of sorts is made. The wound would still be too tender for now. Attaching anything could potentially flay or sever what little flesh remains, causing more blood and perhaps increase infection in the mouth”. Dahlia stopped her train of thought as Zek’s face seemed to almost lose colour. Perhaps the mental image she provided was probably more than he could have handled at the moment.

“This should give us a few weeks to come up with a good replacement” she added. “I don’t think I want to subject Zek to the pain of having a mechanical replacement either”

She then realised something which should have occurred to her much earlier. “You know, Zek… you won’t be able to taste anything again” she said, with a hint of pity in her tone. “I hope you realise that no replacement can ever provide this for you”

#93

Zek looks at Dahlia for a moment, and then his gaze shifts to the unappealing-looking stew next to the bed, and then he looks back at Dahlia. He shrugs, in a way that seems to say ‘Your point being?’

He hadn’t really noticed, if he was honest. The taste of food was so alive in his mind still that he wasn’t really aware that his actual ability to experience it had been dimmed. And even if he was, most of what they were subsisting on at the moment was so bland that there wasn’t much point in tasting it anyway.

He was pondering how to transmit this thought properly when the shouting started in the taverna.

#94

Dahlia laughed. “Fair point” she smiled.

Dahlia immediately tried to get up out of her bed. Shouting usually leads to her having to take a look at someone.

#95

“Doctor.” Daniel looked at his colleague disapprovingly. “They’ll be fine, you need to rest, other people can sort out whatever’s going on in there, if they need our help they’ll soon ask for it.”

Looking at Zek, Daniel nodded, “We’re done here, we’ve all got lots to think about, in the meanwhile don’t over do things.”

#96

Dray left the building and walked out side and wondered around the grounds.
he was was getting to the point where he could hold his own against two demons not"ill give it a few more days" he said to him self
"enough people should be ok by then for me to go for a month or so"

[quote] housemonkey
as nearby there was a muffled shriek, followed by a splash.
Forgetful had fallen in the well again. [/quote]
his thoughts were broken from this sound but wasn’t sure what it could be slightly on guard Dray looked around to see if he could work out where the splash had come from and if it was important or if it was a forests foke doing something stupid

#97

The scream and commotion stirs the older gentleman from his sleep.

Groggily, Magnus Swanhildes eyes flutter open and he regains some semblance of consciousness. He eyes sharpen and narrow as he searches for the source of the scream but as soon as he places his eyes on his daughter in front of him relaxes a little.

Taking a breath, his shoulders slump a little as he sits up in his chair. He looks at the tea on the trolley next to him, steaming away, but doesn’t take it.

“How long have I been out?” He says with his voice barely audible.

He clears his throat of the dryness and with a little effort repeats himself

“Sorry. How long have I been asleep?”

#98

[quote=“Ants”]He clears his throat of the dryness and with a little effort repeats himself

“Sorry. How long have I been asleep?”[/quote]

Dahlia looks at her father with a little sigh of relief as she stops trying to leave her bed. He had been out overnight, but constant checking of his breathing and pulse reassured her he was still alive.
“Just a few hours. Probably more than most people here. The fighting was yesterday if that is of any comfort” she smiled. “The colour is back in your cheeks which is good. Don’t think you’ll be passing out on us again”

She then shoots a guilty look at Daniel. “Yes, I suppose you’re right…sorry”, and she lies back down properly, feeling more like a child in trouble than a stubborn adult whose wounded.

#99

The doctor offers a smile “The more you can rest at the moment, the quicker you’ll be back on your feet.”

Reaching over to the window sill to retrieve his red white and blue mug of now lukewarm tea Daniel addressed the older man.

“Mr Swanhilde, would you like something to eat?” he gazed down at the unappetising bowl next to Dahlia. “A cup of tea at least?”

“You’ll need to keep your strength up, you donated a great deal of blood yesterday, it’ll take a few days before you’re back on top form.”

#100

“Yesterday you say?” he says raising an eyebrow

“It seems that swinging a sword is a little more exhaustive than this aging chemist can take.” He says with a smile

“I think something to eat is a good idea, but I shall go and make a request of the cooks. No need to bother yourselves.”

With a bit of an effort Magnus hauls himself to his feet, favouring his left leg where the Demon Prince Dagon wounded him solidly with his giant sword.

“How is my daughter, Doctor? Is there any permanent damage to her spine? Any luck on determining who put the knife in her back?”