deercountry | 15 . JOHNUARY

[Eesh. That's about as gross as Break made it sound. Qrow grimaces, taking a step back to avoid the blood spatter, but he takes a moment to consider this. A tent would not have a bathroom, and it seems terribly unkind for a person to have to lay in a pile of vomited organs until they gathered the energy to clean up. (Qrow isn't that considerate to do it for him, alright, especially when it's someone who's not one of his)

He shakes his head.]

Yeaaah, gotta say, that doesn't sound like a great place to be puking up organs.

[Carefully, though, he finds a clear spot in which to kneel, plainly intending for John to get on his back. He may yet get puked on, which would suck, but it's not like John is getting anywhere on his own in this condition.]

Is there a lamp around here somewhere?

[ God murmurs, without particular rancor: ]

Does anywhere?

[ He could turn the blood to dust and ashes, given a moment to gather himself; this is apparently not that moment. He swipes at his mouth with the back of a wrist, in an utterly human gesture. He examines the blood smear with vague fascination, which is maybe a little less relatable.

Regardless, he breathes carefully through the nausea and shuts his eyes to focus on the question. ]

At the gate.

[ Close enough he could stagger to it from here, but standing up does not currently appeal. ]

[Okay, that actually does get him to crack a grin despite the situation.]

...Heh, fair enough. [He shakes his head, amused, and gestures again for the man to get on his back.] Alright, come on, I'll get you there. We can take it to my place, if you want. There's enough bathrooms there nobody's likely to notice someone holed up in one for a bit.

[There is nothing awkward about inviting a guy you punched in the face over inciting chaos that got your house burned down to the rebuilt version of that house, okay. It's fine. It's all fine.]

Edited 2023-02-14 05:17 (UTC)

[ Taking piggyback rides from his enemies is going to be a thing, apparently. First the vampire, now the guy who dresses like a vampire. This is an immensely normal way to spend a Tuesday afternoon.

John gives up on dignity wholesale. It's not like he had a lot going for him, cursed with eldritch food poisoning by a guy hawking candies in exchange for your soul. ]

Cheers.

[ With a shudder of breath— and in demonstration that he is not a total asshole— the blood turns to dust and ashes. John slings an arm around Qrow's shoulders and lets the man take his weight, and leaves no smears more unpleasant than a faint pale grime of powder. He thinks this is very decent of him, personally, as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to parse what the fuck is going on inside his body. Really an interesting new experience, not knowing. Fun way to keep him on his toes. ]

[Watching all the blood John puked up disappear into dust is profoundly unsettling, honestly. A reminder that he is, in fact, dealing with a god--albeit one that's currently been kneecapped by more powerful gods.

The thought gets pushed to the back of his mind; they have no cause for enmity now, after all. There hasn't been for months, and John has been a surprisingly friendly enemy, in that time. And for all his own bluster, Qrow isn't actually an unkind man. He walks to the lamp slowly so as not to jostle him, taking brief pauses if the man's distress seems too severe.

The warp of the lamp is probably unpleasant, so it's only around then that he speeds up, letting the man down as they reach the downstairs bathroom nearest the door without a further word. And if there's a slight thump against that door, rather than the sound of footsteps walking away, that surely doesn't mean anything, right? Certainly it's not as though the door has just been casually blocked for his privacy by someone who could be doing literally anything else right now. Right?

Obviously.]

[ It'd be embarrassing for God to bolt to the toilet, right? But he's choking back heaves as they get in the front door— he doesn't even get a chance to take in the decor, which makes a lot of frankly bizarre choices with gold filigree and clocks— and only just makes it. Whatever Qrow's doing goes plainly ignored; for a guy who should be able to split his attention across a solar system, puking up gore sure keeps him occupied.

The sounds are unpleasant, for a bit. This time it's a stomach, which is kind of funny.

This would probably be distressing to anyone with a normal relationship to disemboweled human organs. ]

Do you think, [ rasps God, just loud enough to carry, ] they didn't realize it wasn't meant to be literal? Puking your guts out.

[Unpleasant, sure, but he's heard worse. Hell, he's seen worse in Trench alone, what with the time that girl chopped herself to bits with a chainsaw and he and Ozpin were forced to clean it up.

He answers, from the other side of the door:]

If I had to guess, that's probably why they did it. Apparently gods love puns. Who knew.

Edited 2023-02-14 06:34 (UTC)

[ He coughs a clumsy little laugh, at that. ]

There they go stealing my bit again.

[ It's subsided for the moment, but not for long; he'll know it's finished when he regains clarity on what the hell's happening inside of him. Right now it's an ugly foreign muddle, which is more upsetting than he'd like to admit. It feels a little like going blind. ]

You met the guy yet? Dead Willy Wonka made of hands? [ Normal. ]

Yikes.

[That's a hell of a description, and Qrow hadn't even realized this curse came with an eldritch visitation of sorts.]

And here I thought the cursed chocolate just appears in your house or something. Can't tell if some creepy pthumerian showing up instead is better or worse.

[He has missed out on this particular curse to date; his magical food poisoning came from Madame Generosity's party, some time back, and the previous year Doorway saw fit to slam him with the fire curse twice, so he was, ah. Busy.]

Worse. They have to do the whole 'blood sacrifice' song and dance, really rub it in.

[ It's the hypnosis bullshit that gets him, insult to injury. Better to just get mugged into puking organs; what grates is that they go to the trouble of hijacking his free will, first. ]

Brothers, of course they do.

[Ugh. Ugh!!]

So what, is it another 'spill your blood to escape' deal and the chocolate's some kind of twisted...reminder? Reward? Even by Trench standards, that's messed up.

Reward. They set it up like payment... here, have a truffle, it'll cost a bit of your body. Don't worry, we'll give you plenty of new bits to help.

[ God is being sarcastic in an overwrought green bathroom. And then stopping to puke again. ]

How charitable of 'em.

[There's silence for a time, as John retches in the bathroom. Long enough that it could well seem like Qrow has just fucked off and left him to his organ puking. Eventually, though, there's a little clink against the wall. Whenever John comes out of the bathroom, he'll find a plate of saltine crackers and some Trench equivalent to gatorade by the door. It comes with a note: couch's open if you need to crash the night.

So really, he did just fuck off and leave John to his puking, but mostly because it was too awkward to just hang around and wait it out, or like, be seen doing something thoughtful about it. Grosser than puked up organs tbqh.

He makes a point to leave his room through the window, the next morning. Just in case.]

15 . JOHNUARY

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