deercountry | [open] bad doggie!

Entry tags:

[open] bad doggie!

Who: Nehan + OPEN (one thread closed to specific people)
What: Someone (Nehan) died before someone's (Nehan's...) birthday, and not of fun. Featuring the aftermath of said death, an angry squid, and a doctor who's bad at taking care of himself.
When: forward-dated to Jan. 19 and later
Where: Primarily in Nehan's house, but the death thread is set in the wilderness.

Content Warnings: Violence, beasthood, death, paleblood powers, traumatic memories of near-death experiences, some nudity, Nehan-typical self-loathing, mentions of sex, Jan. TDM-style body horror. More TBA as they come up.

a: squid time

[nehan's tub is modest by human standards. large for a man of his (usual) size, but massive for a little squid, almost transparent save for its rainbow-colored insides, the most prominent of which is sunshine-yellow. the squid is absolutely tiny, no bigger than an adult human's hand.

there's a grab bar attached to the wall next to the tub, and the edge of the tub opposite it, clearly for nehan's use when he's an erune, because what will a squid do with those? he cant even reach them. though he's definitely trying, swimming back and forth, and occasionally reaching out with a little tentacle in an attempt to reach it.

but of course, he cant reach it, and that frustrates the squid enough that he jets out a little bit of dark ink. literally farting in anger, this one is.]

b: cant sleep (cw: really morbid jokes)

[the evening after nehan's squid was retrieved from the water and returned to his house, he returns to normal. annoyed as he rises from inky water and having to clean himself, but still, he's a skinny, scarred erune again, without the additions he gained over the past months. an erune that needs a long, long nap, and will head straight to his bed to have said long nap without even drying his hair.

if anyone chooses to stay longer and keep vigil over the once-squid... well, no one is stopping you, not even the omen, who is guarding the door to the basement underneath the stairs, and will not move away.

nehan might not be too much of a host however, when he's bedridden, having gone through a traumatic death and unable to control his limbs well. every time his left arm or leg has a spasm, his expression twists into one of chagrin and irritation, and he clutches at the limb until it stops. he tries to lay under his bedding just to lessen it... but well. that doesn't work as well as he hoped, and it's not proper medical procedure, but when it comes to himself, nehan has never cared a goddamn bit. still...]

... Stay a little longer. Without anything to do, I'll have another death soon, and this time of boredom. [that was a joke. but it's bad and he knows it's bad.]

c: winter mourning's last hurrah (nehan's memories/cw: eventual near-death experience)

[there is a winter mourning in nehan's house, a wreath laying in the seat of an armchair in the living room, and despite looking innocent, it is still active. and if it's touched, instead of dragging some poor unsuspecting bastard into a dream, it drags them into a memory.

the nehan in this memory is an adult, just like the one in bed, recovering from his violent bout with death-- but he's also different. seemingly younger, more filled-out, less scraggly hair, and lacking in the eyepatch and crutch that has become nehan's signature. but his ears have much less fur on them and are tattered at the ends, the shadows under his eyes are darker, and he's sporting fresh bruises on his face, like he's just been in a brawl. or more than just a brawl-- he looks like he's been beaten within an inch of his life.

still, he's walking amongst a crowd that doesn't seem to notice him, in a crowded marketplace in a bustling town with airships flying high above them. he looks like he knows where he's going, and behind him... behind him is another nehan, walking much slower, bearing a crutch and an eyepatch-- the nehan most people know, by now.

he pauses when he notes he's not alone, turning around and ears twitching, then tilts his head towards his younger self as if to say come along.]

d: the days after: achelliac (cw: nudity, self-loathing)

[achelliac's usual clientele may be sailors, but at least they don't turn nehan away. and, as he finds out, some of his fellow customers are fascinated enough with him that he just decides to indulge them with what they want. even if he's here just to deal with the aches of his body that still linger after his rebirth. at least he's no longer suffering from muscle spasms.

the hot springs will deal with what other aches he gets in this place, in any case, that's why he's here-- get himself up to snuff so he can get back to work without problems.

making his way to the pool from the showers is always an adventure in going slow to accommodate his too-thin, too-scarred body and not slipping, just because he leaves his cane with his clothes (he needs a new crutch, a cane just isn't the same...). though he's right at the edge of the pool, he pauses when he sees another man there already.]

May I, or do you prefer privacy? [perhaps he should have asked that before he got naked...]

wildcard
[[ hit me with your best shot-- everything is a-ok and will match prose or action, but the actual boss battle is restricted to certain characters. nehan dies on the 19th, revives as a squid on the 22nd and is returned to his house on the same day, while his headcanon birthday is on the 20th. thanks to #justpalebloodthings, nehan can admit that his birthday is coming up to any palebloods. he is also a paleblood, so people can speak to him more freely as well.

people are free to come and go as they like. snooping is encouraged, but the basement is guarded by nehan's omen. i'm also open to changing the memory in prompt c. if we haven't threaded yet, we can just handwave the first meeting and nehan giving out his address. if you're unsure, just ask! ]]

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"I have something of interest to you. Come when possible, but no longer than a few days, I may be on a deadline. The door is unlocked for you."

[that's the voice message he sent to the bird-man, and then settles into a large, squashy armchair to wait. he would have liked to lay down, but in his state, if he goes to bed, he's likely to fall asleep to the next morning and potentially miss his bird-caller coming in.

holding a dishcloth wrapped around ice to his cheek is undignified, but he'll live.]

[There's very little time between Nehan waking and Diluc stepping through the doorway. Compared to the Diluc viewing the memory he looks different. His hair is pulled back in a long braid, and his clothes are simple, a tan turtle neck and black coat compared to his usual clothes.

While there's a weariness of the soul in his eyes. He has the look of a man who actually got more than strict three hours intervals of sleep. He glances at the armchair before he sits down.] I was patrolling in the woods when Dellingr saw you. You were a wolf with three heads, each with a different personality. I knew it was you when I saw what was left of your coat.

[The end of the month had become abruptly very busy for Illarion--but not so busy he'd forgotten the terms of his contract with Nehan. (Nor the time they'd spend together after sealing it. It's a pleasant memory to revisit.) So this was not, exactly, the message he'd been expecting, but he nevertheless heeds it with all urgency.

It's within the hour after Nehan sent the message that there's a knock on the doorframe, followed by a shrike letting himself in.

He is, lamentably, quite dead once more.

...Is that an ice pack?]

You did not summon me to avenge you, did you? [Hi Nehan, he got your message..]

Edited 2022-01-30 04:14 (UTC)

[unbeknownst to him, nehan's hands are bunched into his thick covers, as if holding onto an animal instead. but his omen is downstairs, keeping guard over the basement door, and not in nehan's lap where he's wanted. not that nehan would ever let anyone know that.]

I thought that was where my coat got to-- and my crutch, for that matter. [he sighs, trying to sit up better, but ends up sinking into the pillows, barely reclining, more laying. then he rubs the bridge of his nose with his right hand.]

I need new ones. [not looking forward to that.]

[It was a little suspicious that he's supposed to meet Nehan out in this field, having been to his home/office before and knowing full well that they could have used the basement again to go over things. But perhaps it's because out here are plants that could be harvested to make poisons out of, and that's the nature of this. But Childe makes sure he arrives on time, to a surprising sight.

Nehan traditionally has had a cane and a patch over one eye, with a limp and a general no nonsense attitude. But the erune looks nothing of the sort right now, spry as ever and with a hunger in his eyes that Childe has only seen in a few others. He could practically smell the battle ahead of him, and he studies Nehan for a moment before he takes his stance.

Childe knows he wants a fight before he even says it, smiling dangerously back. But there's a lot to consider here too, which he hides behind an expression of bloodthirsty excitement. Was this a product of the Shedding Ceremony? Probably. Nehan isn't human, so he should expect increased reflexes, speed and strength. He uses magic, which certainly would be used here. A lot to consider.]

I didn't take you for the bloodthirsty sort. But sure. I could use the exercise. But don't waste this opportunity though. Fighting against a Harbinger is a privilege few get to experience! And even fewer still live to tell the tale.

[What would Nehan start with? It could be either or, he thinks, as his hydro bow forms in his hand effortlessly. Best to put him on the move right away, to assess his speed- so he begins a volley of shots that rapid fire out of the bow.]

[nehan snorts, then winces a little when it aggravates some sore spots in his side.]

I took care of it myself. But no-- I called you here for scientific reasons.

Truly, I was suspecting so much. [He notes the wince, notes the other bruises, notes--

Huh. There's more Nehan here than there had been.] Though is it just fulfillment of our contract, or something more?

[Diluc closes his eyes. Neither item had survived the fight. Off the top of his head he could imagine what need to be traded for the service of constructing new ones.

He undoes his braid to give his hands something to do. Then leaves his hair loose about his shoulders and face. For now.] Yes, neither were recoverable. …I don’t like asking but I need to know, the side effects of coming back to life, are you dealing with those? Or are they present at all.

[didn't take him to be bloodthirsty? hilarious. nehan shakes himself like a wolf, before flexing his shoulders one more time and feeling his bones crack in a satisfying manner. he needs to fight and kill, he needs six, but without the most powerful martial artist in the sky realm to put him down, and his other students too soft, childe will have to do.]

I don't care about whatever privilege this is. [he is akin to a beast, but a different one than the cerberus he had been weeks ago.] But all you can do is talk, then there'll be nothing but disappointment here!

[the first thing nehan will show is that he's quite adept at dodging. however, he doesn't do it flashily, jumping away just to dodge an arrow-- he merely moves aside, doing the minimal amount of work needed for the arrow to just barely brush past him. after he dodges the arrow, he takes steps forward, towards childe, arms raised. dodges the next arrow, and surges forward again, just a little faster this time. again and again, bearing down on childe's location with increasing speed.

one arrow manages to brush his cheek and draw blood, but that's not what makes the erune's eyes light up or his nostrils flare-- it's the bright blue symbol that appears over his body.]

Devious.

I shed. [a simple answer for a simple question.] Later than others, but the results are clear.

Now... I never told you the true reason as to why you know me as an emaciated ghost of a man, yes?

I'm in bed for a reason, Diluc. [a rebuke, but only just barely.] The state you found me in, that day on the beach... it's similar.

[meaning, the symptoms he told diluc about during the festival, nehan's pockets full of pumpkin seeds.]

Even if I had my crutch, I wouldn't be able to walk, anyway. My leg gives way and spasms if I lean on it for too long.

Abundantly. I regret I was not alive a few days more. [A true, if dim, regret. He would've at least liked to have seen Nehan as he is now, setting aside anything else his being alive would have allowed them.

He moves closer to the chair where the erune's perched himself. This seems a story told better in closer quarters.]

You have not, [he affirms.]

Hmm.

Come closer, little bird. [nehan sets the ice pack down onto his knee and begins to undo his shirt's buttons, so he can slide one scarred but muscular arm out of his sleeve.] Feel if you need to. There's also a seat across me, if you want to sit down for this.

[He won't pass up that opportunity, though he chuckles softly as he reaches out to rest a hand on Nehan's arm. Even through his glove, his hand's ice cold.]

I am not so warm as I was, [he points out, giving the erune's arm a brief appreciative squeeze to gauge the weight of the muscle. Then he draws back.

To do more is tempting, but not his place.

He takes the offered seat, settling in it human-wise. It'd be uncomfortable if he were alive, but perching on the seat-cushion is uncomfortable to others.]

So. You have a story for me.

Indeed. [he doesn't tuck his arm back into his shirt, unhappy with the way his bruises protest motion. besides, it's not as if there's anything to hide.]

Nearly two years ago, I was shot in the back. Obviously I did not die, but I was not lively either. I was in a coma for fifteen months. When I woke up, half my body was paralyzed.

[then he sighs deeply.]

This form is what I used to be like, before the incident, but it wont be easy to achieve as I am now. Even a few weeks of neglecting the body is enough to be visible, but being bedridden for over a year... that's something difficult to reverse.

[He listens attentively to all of this, slotting the new information in with what he'd already learned of Nehan. It illuminates a few dark corners--to be crippled was worse for the strong (and how well he knew it).

He gives a low hiss through his fangs at the scope of the problem set before him.]

It is being fortunate you did not die after so long, yes. But to return to this...

[It isn't impossible, though he can see how the magnitude of the challenge would daunt.]

Are you wishing help in that?

I think it's... [he shakes his head.]

The reason why I had this body in the first place is because I was forced to be physical before the incident. [the incident, he says, as if he had not been the victim of an attempted assassination, that the bullet just somehow found its way into his body.] I was forced to fight for years in one way or another, and back then, I had use of my full body.

I don't have that luxury here.

Something close to this? Yes, it's possible. But exactly this, the peak of my health? No. Possibly never.

Edited (wow contradicting myself) 2022-01-30 11:27 (UTC)

[Diluc folds up the black ribbon that had held his hair in the braid. He tucks it into his pocket.] It took me a week for the weakness to fade. …I was a corrupted ghost so there may be differences.

[He hasn’t said much about that time but the words hit the air. And they’re not wrong. He looks apologetic before he sinks back into the seat.]

You're implying that because I was killed by three grown men in a fight, my symptoms would be worse than yours.

[then nehan huffs, the sound more of derision than amusement.]

I can survive a week or so of pain and weakness.

[Some deficits acquired through neglect were permanent, that much is true. Illarion nods to this, although--]

We are in the Waking World. Much more may be possible here, if you seek it.

Still, I am taking your meaning. You would also not be having time for much else, in the pursuit of this form.

[The difference in Nehan's attitude and outlook, having shed... He knows that shift, from the inside; being alive again had made so much more seem possible and worthwhile. (And given him a distressing level of self-regard.)

Witnessing it in another pulls at him. He wants this change to remain--and if that isn't the world's will, he wants to fix what he can.]

I will still help, with what you do wish to have. If you do not remain this way.

It's my fate to be small and weak-- I know this wont last. [why would it? nothing good ever lasts, for a very, very loose sense of "good".]

But... it's something to come close to, given your goals of fattening me up. Have your fill, if you want, for future reference.

[He shakes his head, his hair shifting. He really has too damn much of it.] I’m saying I don’t know a consistent timetable.

I hate I can’t tell you a definitive. Flynn was cut down and his weakness time was different from mine. And I assume like him you don’t have issues with your memory the way I did for…a while after.

[He doesn’t want to admit how long after. It bothers him.]

This death and revival price seems specific to the individual.

I can handle whatever side effects come my way, Diluc. [perhaps those words would have been reasusring if they didn't come from a gaunt, almost grey man laying in bed.]

I have survived worse, no matter how much I did not want to. This is fate... and karma.

As it is mine to be dead. [Which gives him cause to smile sadly at Nehan's invitation, even as slips off his chair to take a knee before the erune's.]

What am I to make of this license you give me, wolfling?

[Because he is curious, and he will take it, resting his palms on the solid muscle of Nehan's thighs to start.

It doesn't have the same thrill it did, a few days ago. But he's still glad to touch someone.]

I know. More than I could guess or imagine, you’ve survived. [But he doesn’t like that he can’t give any solace. He cares and that comes with a desire to help more than his usual. He rubs his face the gathers his hair and sets to braiding it again.]

Still, if there is anything you want me to do. I’ll do it. [In a reasonable time for once. He is learning to take breaks. It’s not only to take care of himself but indulge in this new relationship he has.]

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Page 7 of 13

[open] bad doggie!

deja vu (illarion)

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