john childermass (
atouts) wrote in
lostcarnival2018-08-26 02:31 pm
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Entry tags:
the med tent is the hoppin place to be
Who: Childermass & open.
When: D90-D91
Where: Back at the carnival, in the medical tent.
What: Childermass had a bad time with a bear's claws and now he's stuck on bed rest.
Warnings: Mentions of violence, injury.
The tail end of the entire Eden fiasco is a blur to Childermass. He made a very poor tactical choice when dealing with Bezaliel, one of the Architects with far more power of the shadows than the magician could have ever imagined. One set of iron claws later and he only vaguely remembers being found by Syrlya and Lambert, bleeding to death in the forests of Eden. They brought him... somewhere.
The temple? He imagines it must have been, the one the healers kept, or else he doubts he'd yet be alive. Who and how he was brought back out of Eden is a mystery and one he hasn't inquired about. Someone carried him or the Ringmaster whisked everyone away, most like, and now all that's left is for him to lay still as can be in a cot and dwell on all the 'should haves' running through his head. In fewer words, sulking, although with his usual lack of emotion, it'd be hard to tell as much.
With his left side and chest all stitched up, along with deep scratches across that same side of his face and what's bound to be a brand new scar across his sharp beak of a nose, there's not much for him to do but wait. Eventually he'll be free to move without worry of popping a stich or two but until then, if he spots anyone approaching by foot he'll eye them and ask in a hoarse, gravelly voice:
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me escape back to my own trailer..." It's a pointless request. They wouldn't make it very far. "Or at the very least bring me something to read?"
Or if it's only someone else stuck there with him, well, he clearly can't ask them for aid. They're in as much a bad spot as he is, meaning the best he can offer is a curious look and then a somewhat pained shrug.
When: D90-D91
Where: Back at the carnival, in the medical tent.
What: Childermass had a bad time with a bear's claws and now he's stuck on bed rest.
Warnings: Mentions of violence, injury.
The tail end of the entire Eden fiasco is a blur to Childermass. He made a very poor tactical choice when dealing with Bezaliel, one of the Architects with far more power of the shadows than the magician could have ever imagined. One set of iron claws later and he only vaguely remembers being found by Syrlya and Lambert, bleeding to death in the forests of Eden. They brought him... somewhere.
The temple? He imagines it must have been, the one the healers kept, or else he doubts he'd yet be alive. Who and how he was brought back out of Eden is a mystery and one he hasn't inquired about. Someone carried him or the Ringmaster whisked everyone away, most like, and now all that's left is for him to lay still as can be in a cot and dwell on all the 'should haves' running through his head. In fewer words, sulking, although with his usual lack of emotion, it'd be hard to tell as much.
With his left side and chest all stitched up, along with deep scratches across that same side of his face and what's bound to be a brand new scar across his sharp beak of a nose, there's not much for him to do but wait. Eventually he'll be free to move without worry of popping a stich or two but until then, if he spots anyone approaching by foot he'll eye them and ask in a hoarse, gravelly voice:
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me escape back to my own trailer..." It's a pointless request. They wouldn't make it very far. "Or at the very least bring me something to read?"
Or if it's only someone else stuck there with him, well, he clearly can't ask them for aid. They're in as much a bad spot as he is, meaning the best he can offer is a curious look and then a somewhat pained shrug.
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And that's all. No reminders that Childermass had told him he wasn't out to collect scars, no angry accusations, not even asking what the hell happened to get him this fucked up. Lambert's expression is stormy, furious, but nothing he says now will particularly help Childermass get better any faster, or undo what's been done.
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“You want some water?” It’s fairly inane, as comfort goes, but since he can’t offer anything stronger...
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"I would," he answers simply enough, "But help me sit up first. I'll just spill it everywhere otherwise."
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“Nice fangs,” he jokes, albeit weakly. “Now we match.”
In more ways than one, with the scars now lining Childermass’s face.
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"Wondered if you would notice those. I keep biting my tongue..."
Which he'll get used to sooner than later but, just for now, just for Lambert, he'll actually bother giving voice to such a minor complaint.
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"You get used to it." His own tongue slips out to lick lips and fangs, absently. "Could be worse. You could have come out of Eden with floppy ears ... or a wagging tail."
Now that's an amusing mental image, Childermass gaining a tell for his emotions so much less subtle than puffing feathers.
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“You like tugging on mine often enough,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low. “But you don’t want to let me return the favor?”
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He manages to keep the straight face for all of a moment before he laughs and inevitably winces. Oogh. Laughing hurts.
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“How about we just get them capped with gold or silver instead?”
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