[open] bad doggie!

[torpour]

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! ]]

Comments

CUE THE BOSS BATTLE MUSIC (closed to ives, flynn, diluc)

[torpour]

[nehan's rapidly-accelerating beasthood should have raised alarms with people by now, but he has managed to keep most of it under wraps, and deftly maneuver around awkward questions if he couldn't. unfortunately, that also means that there was no one to help him find a cure, or a way to slow said beasthood until it's far, far too late to do anything.

the catalyst is being attacked by a beast on the outskirts of the city. from there, everything was just... uncontrollable. the attacking beast was defeated, but not by nehan's own strength, but by what he became.

the resulting beast is one on the smaller side, barely larger than a horse, still undoubtedly a beast-- a three-headed wolf with dark, unkempt fur that looks like it's been allowed to grow wild for years. the right head is smaller than its companions with puppy-like features, sorrowful and avoidant, turning away from living beings. the middle head is aggressive, angry, ears tattered and bare of fur, the leader that drives the body forward. the left head is silent, duller fur than the other two, and keeps its eyes closed. this would have been just any beast made from an unknown person heading straight to willful machine, if it weren't for a formerly-white labcoat tangled around the neck of the left head, and the remains of a very particular forearm crutch on the beast's front right paw, barely hanging on by a strap.

if there's any intelligence left of the erune in this beast, that remains to be seen. but it's headed straight for civilization.]

[searingwing]

[It’s Dellingr who spots him. He is scouting for Diluc and immediately banks and puts on as much speed as he can. It’s time to let the chains fall away to the wrecked mess of a weapon inside. The dragon cuts through the sky like an arrow and calls out to Diluc on his horse below.

‘Beast, not far.’ The man’s face goes blank and he stops his horse, slipping off of it. He ties him to a tree and heads for the direction the dragon is hovering.] Show me.

[He internally discards the daylight hours and the chains. He has to kill. There can be no room for error. If he makes a mistake the woods would birth another terrible beast.

Him.

Dellingr expands as he says,] Go up and call out, we’ll need help.

[The dragon omen sweeps into the sky, the size of a car now he opens his jaws and his deep resonate voice cries out. ‘Beast! Beast is coming! Follow. Fight!’]

[getsmy]

[Ives had traveled out to the Willful Machine to, well, stop by to see Nehan. The Giant had undergone a shed skin change and was looking as he might in middle age, that is; a foot taller and far broader with muscle. His horns looped around themselves nearly three times over and the broken piece was long healed over. He thought Nehan might be interested in the change. Seems there were other, more dramatic, changes to be dealt with first.

His ears swiveled at the call to aid, from above. Ives couldn't recognize the dragon omen as Diluc's offhand, but that didn't matter. Duty called and while Ives didn't have his staff with him, he had his hunter's ax for patrols later that night. Seems he'd need to be on the job sooner.

He'll follow the omen as ordered, weapon in hand towards where Diluc might be searching. With luck, he won't be mistaken from a beast himself. His own, little lamb of an omen scouts out ahead of him to try and mitigate for that, quite literally running head first into Diluc with a small "baa!". Ives isn't far behind,]

Diluc-? Well met on another hunt... [Ives has a habit of running into the same people in very similar ways time and time over, it seems]

[thinkfirst]

[ Flynn is not terribly far behind.

Despite his training taking up most of his time and effort, there is no universe in which Flynn Scifo, dedicated workaholic without a functioning off-switch, does not patrol the streets of the city in order to keep it safe. With Unsnakes forming at will and changes rendering people vulnerable, it is more important than ever that he help keep up the city's meager defenses (a project for another day, but one that consumes his thoughts nonetheless).

So he is out in full armor, trying not to shiver in the biting cold, when Dellingr calls. He recognizes the cry, the need for him to follow. ]

Daisy!

[ She is already materializing, solidifying quickly enough that Flynn can swing onto her back and follow the shape of Dellingr through the sky. It's like that—riding an equally-armored horse with sword drawn and a million potentials spiralling through his head quick enough to be dizzying—that he encounters Ives and Diluc both, skids up to them on Daisy with alarm clear on his face. For a bare moment he thinks the massive person in front of him is the beast to which Dellingr was referring, but Diluc isn't fighting, so perhaps it's fine. ]

Dellingr called. A beast approaches? Have you seen it yet?

[ No time for pleasantries, as far as Flynn is concerned. ]

[torpour]

[no need to keep asking where it is, when it's close. they'll hear it before they see it, the beating of paws on hard ground and the labored breathing of three heads. wolves don't pant while running, but then again, this wolf isn't typical-- nor healthy in the least. under that mass of fur is something that's probably better off described as an underfed rat.

not to say it still wont kill, but well.

when it bursts through the trees and into the clearing the men are in, it pauses, two heads swiveling to look at them, but the young one turns away. the beast immediately starts circling around them, noting them all as prey.]

[searingwing]

Well met, and no, not yet. Delling-

[But before he can say more the beast bursts into the open. A wolf with three heads, one turned away. His eyes sweep over it at the same time he draws his knives. The blades are painted black like every tool of killing he has.

The heads all seem different and- his mind shuts down at the sight of the coat. It’s like a door quietly shuts in his head. He will deal with what is behind it later.]

We need to keep it from getting to town. Dellingr, to the air.

[The dragon scratches at the ground, waiting for the right signal.] …let’s hit them all at the same time. Flynn, will you make the signal?

[getsmy]

[The beast makes it's appearance. Ives has good vision in low light and darkness, a benefit of his squared pupils. He's quick to scan over the beast. Three heads, though one appeared fearful and one appeared disinterested. The coat goes by unnoticed by him at a glance, but while he's looking to see what manner of claws it has, he notes... a brace?

His nose twitches. His eyes narrow. No, he'd hope not. Out in Willful Machine- so nearby-

Ives stops holding his breath, reaching to the ends of his horns. He pops the golden caps off each side, asking of his compatriots]

Can you two hold a distraction-? If I can get it under my sleeping magic, I- [he wants to know if Nehan's in there- but saying as much? To at least one person he knows knows the man... that's unwise. That might set them to panic. Or worse, refuse to fight at all. Ives would risk life and limb if the man could be rescued, but he won't risk other people's safety to keep a beast alive.]

Trust me and give me time to try.

[thinkfirst]

Nehan.

[ Flynn breathes, unable to keep the quiet part quiet. The tattered remains of the coat, their proximity—this is no ordinary beast, and worse: it is someone he knows. Someone he was going to visit tomorrow with completed charts and a vague sense of hopeful pride that he'd managed to memorize a good portion of the body's systems. Beasthood follows corruption, they know that, and that means Nehan must have been fighting it for a while, during their lessons, even.

Flynn's heart thuds into his ribs as his hand curls tightly around his sword. He doesn't know the large person with them, but he must have realized the same if he's offering to do something like that. They still don't know how to bring people back from the edge. There is no solution that Flynn knows, no tonic they could shove down the throat of one of the heads to turn him back (and they could be wrong, he reminds himself), but—

They have to try, don't they? ]

Understood.

[ Directed at both of them, soft and sure. Flynn's eyes narrow. Daisy paces across the beast's path, her tail flicking, her ears sharp and alert. ]

We will distract it while you try to put him— it— to sleep. If you fail, we must attack. Diluc is correct: he cannot get close to town. The market is busy this evening.

[ Full of people who it is their duty to protect. They can't fail. Flynn slips from Daisy's back in one smooth move. ]

Daisy, go!

[ She at the very least looks like prey, four-legged and soft-bellied, and makes a break for the beast (for Nehan, Flynn reminds himself, magic flaring bright beneath his feet) as he speaks. ]

[torpour]

[go after prey that's been separated from the herd-- every hunter knows this, either learned or by instinct. and the wolf should have gone after the horse careening towards it instead, the motions drawing all of its eyes...

but instead of easy prey, the wolf interprets the horse barreling straight for it as an attack instead, and acts accordingly. the middle head snarls, baring the largest teeth of the beast, and the left head echoes the sound softly, as if its heart isn't in it and is simply just following the leader around. the wolf avoids the horse entirely, stalking around to reach the men instead in a steady gait, tail low, ears pricked-- even the young, avoidant head has perked up, finally looking horse warily. it knows a potential danger when it sees it, and it will certainly keep an eye out. it will deal with the horse if it must, but prey first.]

[searingwing]

[Dellingr launches into the air and shrinks to falcon size as he climbs up and up. Diluc doesn’t look away from the beast.

Nehan.

He doesn’t think there is a way back from Beasthood. Not yet. But he won’t fault Ives trying. If he somehow manages it…they don’t have to kill someone they care about. He tucks the blades away, red and blue threads of magic curling around him. There is the rattle of chains. A more effective distracting weapon.] Do what you will. We will keep him busy.

And if you fail, I will finish things. [His dreams tonight will be terrible. Full of blood and death with a backdrop of the pounding rain.]

[getsmy]

... if it is him, we won't allow him to suffer long. [Ives promises that, because while he's not sensitive to violence, he is extremely effected by suffering. At least, of those he cares about. If Nehan is in there, if he can not be returned from this, then he should be set free.

At least, then, there is a chance he'll return to another life.

Ives wishes he had his staff. It's a far better conduit for his magic than just being out in the open air with it. Out from the open tips of his horns pours a humid fog, sparkling with various dull colors and some flecks of glittering light. The magic pools over head, lingering like extremely low, extremely thick cloud cover.

The ax isn't entirely useless, Ives realizes. He turns the blade to his hand and slices his palm. Paleblood pools and he digs his fingers into the cut, coating his hand in it. He needs Diluc and this other man to create an opening. Then Ives can charge in and use his blood as a more concentrated form of magic, forcing at least one head to slumber so he can search it's memories... should it have any left]

[thinkfirst]

[ If Daisy isn't going to work as a distraction—Flynn would be worried, except that she is an Omen and doesn't seem to be able to be harmed—then he will simply have to provide a distraction right along with Diluc. If the beast—Nehan, he reminds himself with a pang that goes through to his bones—wants to attack them, and clearly it does, then.

Well.

Flynn steps forward, trusting in his armor and his reflexes if not his artes, coming to stand beside Diluc with his sword still held high. ]

We will be bait.

[ He says this softly to Diluc, his fingers tightening around his sword. ]

If we can keep his attention, then perhaps that magic will work.

[ Flynn's just going to make himself as threatening as possible and charge right at Nehan. Hopefully between Diluc's chains and his own aggressive motions, Ives will have his opening. ]

[torpour]

[the moment blood is spilled, the wolf's attention is caught. the head with the closed eyes starts sniffing around to look for its source, but the middle head, the most aggressive of them all, knows exactly where to go.

the beast starts to circle the three of them with intent, eyes locked on the giant one bleeding. but it still gives them a wide berth, wary of the chains, the gleaming steel.

not wary enough to run away, though. the blood calls to it.

the beast makes a first attempt, not using its full strength to attack, a lunge towards the blood to test what will happen if it pushes its luck. it's not an unintelligent hunter, after all. really, with three heads... it's more cautious.]

d, feat: temporarily alive illarion

[unsheathedfromreality]

[The pool's lone occupant looks up at the sound of Nehan's voice, and grins sharp and sudden to see the erune back on his feet.]

Much the opposite; I am just thinking, it is a very great shame there is no one to share this with.

[It's part Darkblood gregariousness and part Illarion's very much enjoying being alive while it lasts, pursuing situations and sensations that mean little to him while dead. The sheer sumptuous comfort of being warm again, in the middle of winter, had been a potent draw.]

Come join me.

[torpour]

[nehan's ears stand straight up the moment the man opens his mouth, and he realizes just who he was speaking to. nehan still doesn't have a name for him, nor does he have a consistent nickname, but he knows who this is.

the darkblood man clearly shed like so many others, that mysterious affliction that nehan's managed to escape somehow. now he's truly curious about what it does and what triggers it-- and just a bit jealous that he hasn't been affected yet.]

Really. Then... Don't mind if I do. [he takes one step at a time, slowly, careful not to slip.]

[searingwing]

[Diluc’s eyes narrow and icy chains snap out of him with pointed blades at their ends. They whip smoothly and silently through the air to cut the beast off from his bleeding target. And without even pausing, Diluc creates a knife of ice and cuts his forearm open. In a series of quick slashes. Nothing that could hinder him. The pain is something he notes and accounts for as he makes his internal plans.

His blood trickles from the wounds as he moves back, shaking his arm slightly. Come take the bait. Darkness seems to gather, the icy cold of winter pauses, the chains slithering back.

His mind is an icy plain, bereft of all feeling because this is a time when a kill will likely happen.]

[unsheathedfromreality]

[Illarion's shed more than most Sleepers he knows and there's no denying his own rampant curiosity played a driving role in that. (Religious obligation was the other major part.)

Needless to say, he'd been doing a lot of learning through experience.

He stands as Nehan approaches, sending ripples across the pool, and shifts himself over to give the erune a better seat. "Coincidentally," it means he's also on his feet if he needs to prevent a fall (though he highly doubts he will).]

You are looking well enough for one so recently back from death, [he remarks, offering up a hand if Nehan needs it; if not, it's no bother to the shrike.] Though I see, [being delightfully not blind anymore,] I must be sending more food over.

[getsmy]

[Ives watches the beast carefully as it approaches them, on the attack. He knew the blood would draw it's attention, but didn't quite expect Diluc to follow suit. That's a smart move, though, the man's cold blood would split attention from his pale. Given the beast has multiple heads, perhaps it can be confused with such a tactic.

He moves to the opposite side of Diluc, focusing in on the sniffing third head, the one that reminds him more of... well, the Nehan he knows. That would be his target to compel sleep in. Something about it seems tired.

When he perceives an opening, Ives will charge forward. He holds his ax with blade away from the beast, blunt end outward so if he swung it defensively it would not chop into the creature. He tries to use it to bat away swinging claw or snapping teeth his way. His goal is to grab that restless looking head by it's scruff and get a hold on it, where he could reach his bloodied hand over it's nostrils and force it to breath in the pale magic, trying to force it at least one head to sleep.]

[torpour]

[nehan grumbles. he did eat the contents of the fruit basket and let his omen play with the basket itself, but he wont be admitting that. it's enough that he's already leaning on the man once again for help.]

The state of my body is something not easily remedied by a lot of food.

[unsheathedfromreality]

No, [and his tone's a little mournful,] this is something that took a great while to do, and it will take much time to undo.

[He's a lot more emotive like this (alive); the actual regret he feels to see anyone in Nehan's state is very much there in his tone.]

But a lot of food would not hurt, no?

[Still a gremlin. But at least a gremlin who will play a nice, steady support for Nehan until the erune's settled.]

[torpour]

That entirely depends on the food.

[when nehan finally gets into the pool properly, he sighs deeply, and rests against the edge of the pool. the hot water is definitely a balm to his aching muscles.]

[unsheathedfromreality]

[Illarion settles back down into the water with an echoing sigh, burying himself nearly up to the neck. Much longer out of it and he'd have started shivering; shrikes chill quickly.]

Does it? You are the doctor, not I. What do you prescribe, for one in your condition?

[torpour]

Proteins, carbohydrates and some fat. [he's already rattled those off before he realizes that many people wouldn't even understand what those are.]

For instance, red meat, rice, eggs and milk. The fruit you sent helped as well.

[then he pauses to get his hair wet, scrubbing at his ears with one hand.]

[unsheathedfromreality]

[The scientific terms are only distantly familiar to Illarion; the light of understanding dawns as Nehan gives examples.] So, food to make blood and muscle. Harder, in winter, but not impossible.

[He tips his head with one of those birdlike jerks, watching Nehan's ears with sudden avid interest.

But says,] I will hunt more. Anything you are preferring, or cannot eat?

[torpour]

[the fur nehan's ears have grown unkempt for a while, and in the months he's spent here in trench, he hasn't had anyone to help with trimming his fur or hair, it's difficult to do that by himself, especially with one troublesome limb. his hair is almost covering his eyes and his fur is unruly.

at least, for now, they're wet, and thus the fur is more manageable. but nehan still has to scrub them to make sure no water gets into his ears.]

You don't need to bring me food like you're a hunter-gatherer and I'm your wife waiting at home.