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Azwel

December 2020

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Azwel hadn't returned from the raid. And when he is found, he's in dreadful shape--frostbitten and lacerated and profoundly unconscious. And yet every once in a while he groans, his voice nearly gone, broken words about voices and the cold and the wind. He shivers no matter how many blankets are piled onto him.

Time passes, the Winter breaks, the Hospital is opened again, and Azwel is found and placed in a room where he lies silent under the monitors and amid the tubes and wires, motionless. And so many days later, his eyes ease open. He stares up at the (unfamiliar) ceiling, blinking quietly. With some difficulty he tracks his eyes right and left, taking in the room and the machines whose provenance he can only guess at. He's too weak to even object to their presence, much less detach them. A dull pain washes in and out like a confused tide, sometimes sneaking up on him, other times crashing over him. He stares at the machines for what feels like hours. It is, in reality, five minutes before his eyes fall shut again.

Time passes, hours into days, and he finds himself looking at that ceiling again. Progressively, with every breath, a burning pain steals into his nerves. Quite different to the ache and stab of injuries, muffled by drugs, this burns through all other sensation. It steals his breath and makes him shudder. He squeezes his eyes shut again and moans stringily. This is apparently enough to summon a nurse who, despite asking many questions, cannot find the source of Azwel's mounting pain because Azwel, himself, cannot. It's only after a dose of a painkiller that leaves him woozy that he can even puzzle it out, though he has to do so in the short intervals that he's awake.

It's the shards of the Cursed Sword and the Spirit sword or, more accurately, their absence, that's responsible. It takes Azwel far too long to explain why he needs them to the baffled medical staff but, eventually, they're brought to him. Maybe the staff understood what he was trying to say, maybe they were simply humouring him. But the moment the shards are brought to him he feels that terrible nerve pain start to recede.

He doesn't actually put the gauntlets on--that'd impede use of his hands far too much, especially in the weakened state he's still in. Rather, it is enough to simply place them nearby, on the table next to the bed. He's told the crystalline settings pulse with light when he sleeps, giving a low, quiet, rhythmic ringing sound.

They bring him food now that the portals are functional again. Sometimes he can even keep it down. They speak of the slow, steady receding of the Winter. He'll believe it when he sees it. They tell him Henry's parents had been found, that they'd gone from dimension to dimension looking for him. This, at least, brings a vague smile to Azwel's face. When the family stop in to thank him and to say goodbye, the little boy climbs up onto the bed and hugs him fiercely. "Goodbye, little one," he whispers, holding the child briefly before letting him go, letting him return to his family and his home.

It's for the best, really. A life like his isn't one to add a child to, no matter what any Outer Goddesses might say. Or maybe that's just the pain and weariness talking.

"Is he going to be all right?" Henry's mother asks softly once outside the room. She glances back in through the window, seeing the man has already fallen asleep, again, twitching in his dreams. Henry clings to her leg, looking up with round eyes at the scrub-clad albinoid nurse with her dark goggles and cloud of hair and short antennae.

The nurse gives a small sigh. "Eventually. It'll take a long time to recover from what he's been through." She doesn't mention what the scans found, this woman isn't family or anyone else on the patient's rather short contact list.

Henry and his family go home. Time passes and one day Azwel wakes up and notices something.

"It's gone," he murmurs. "That awful wind is... gone."

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-26 02:15 am (UTC)
totallyadog: (Default)
From: [personal profile] totallyadog
The dog has gotten into the hospital, partly to look for the person it wants to see and partly because its presence might help people feel better. People like dogs, after all, so its being there might do some good. It approaches the man, looking up towards him and panting. Its eyes are open wide. Pats! It wants pats!

There's an alien intelligence behind this dog, but even an alien intelligence likes pats and treats. This form makes it feel wanted, even helpful, to the people of this strange world. It can explain things later, once the situation has calmed down with the injuries and the last of the winter has ended.

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-26 03:33 am (UTC)
totallyadog: (Give Me Pets)
From: [personal profile] totallyadog
The dog goes out of its way to avoid drawing attention to itself, but it's noticed that the humans don't usually stop it from going places it wants to go. They must like it.

Yes! The dog is lovely! It raises its snout toward Azwel, sniffing. This man isn't well, a easy target for the Other if it is in the Nexus. It will stay and guard Azwel for a while so the Other won't assimilate him.

It sits on its haunches by the bed, stock-still.
Edited Date: 2019-03-26 03:39 am (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-27 04:51 am (UTC)
totallyadog: (Default)
From: [personal profile] totallyadog
The dog technically doesn't belong to anyone, so it has decided it's everyone's dog for the time being. There are hostiles here. The dog has heard the stories and seen corpses in the snow. It considered assimilating them - human DNA would be good to blend in - but it decided not to.

It barks, enjoying the pets. They do feel good!

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-28 07:52 am (UTC)
totallyadog: (Default)
From: [personal profile] totallyadog
The dog barks. This human seems to appreciate the fact that it came to visit, something not too surprising. Humans like dogs, so dogs are a good way to earn humans' trust.

Azwel's trust in this dog isn't misplaced.

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-26 02:26 am (UTC)
outpostcook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] outpostcook
Kinner slips in, quiet. He's more subdued than usual, mostly because he's exhausted from the fight with the Fallin. He's had a claw slam into him and almost fell to his death from a moving vehicle. He recently survived a high-speed chase with a gang of vicious alien pirates. All in all, Joseph Kinner's had a very, very long and exhausting day.

He sits down, looking over at the other man. "Howdy, Azwel. I heard you had a hard time of it - sorry I yelled at you. I figured you weren't in your right mind when Reynard did whatever he did." Kinner still doesn't know what Azwel did to set Reynard off. It probably isn't his business to ask. "I wanted to check up on you, and I'm glad you were able to make it back all right. Well, you're alive, at least."

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-26 07:09 am (UTC)
outpostcook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] outpostcook
"Reynard's who it must've been, since it sure as hell wasn't the Fallen. I had a hell of a time getting out of there, I'll have you know. They really didn't want us to have that food, though I can't say why. I almost fell off the convoy."

Kinner frowns as he takes a seat. "What were you doing before Reynard did something to your mind? Those seasonal spirits are a fickle bunch. Learned that the hard way."

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-27 04:48 am (UTC)
outpostcook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] outpostcook
"I've been trying to catch up on things myself. It was all very hectic - I can barely remember things myself. Those creatures were ruthless, I know that much. Wish we knew more about them. Blaze told us some, but if they aren't leaving with the winter they'll keep coming. I dunno what we'll do. We can't leave the Nexus, there's too many of them to kick them out, and it doesn't look like they want peace."

Kinner shakes his head. "But no, not everyone made it back. I'm afraid Josh didn't make it. He ran away, and was attacked. He fell."

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-28 07:57 am (UTC)
outpostcook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] outpostcook
The little cook shakes his head. He looks pretty well, all things considered, except for some nasty bruises where the Fallen had thrown him off the convoy.

"I didn't know him very well, no, but I will always honor a fallen brother-in-arms." Kinner manages a weak, sad little smile. "I'm ex-military. Not the first time I've had someone die on me, but you never get used to it. I reckon Josh is dead. The Anti-Violence Field was down, and he didn't return to camp with us."

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-29 05:48 am (UTC)
outpostcook: (Default)
From: [personal profile] outpostcook
"Reckon somebody must've found you and brought you back," says Kinner. "I wasn't there to see it happen, but that's my guess."

He rubs the side of his chest. "Still hurts a bit where that Fallen vandal got me. I got in a good shot at him, though."

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-27 01:34 am (UTC)
liverfree: (anxious)
From: [personal profile] liverfree
It's been a busy spring for Prometheus so far. Working on repairing his studio and replenishing his inventory, as well as checking on friends. He had heard that Azwel had been injured during the major food expedition -- cursed, some said -- and the Titan made a note to pay him a visit as soon as he was up to having visitors.

He comes to the hospital with a box of baklava and a vase of chrysanthemums. Stuck inside just as everything is starting to bloom seems particularly unfair, so he's hoping the spot of color will cheer the man up.

"Azwel?" he says, leaning against the doorframe, not wanting to intrude if the man is trying to rest. "How are you faring?"
Edited Date: 2019-03-27 01:37 am (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-27 02:27 pm (UTC)
liverfree: (Default)
From: [personal profile] liverfree
It's mildly distressing to see a formally robust man in such a state, but Prometheus is also grateful that he is recovering. Modern medicine is nothing short of a miracle, so far as he's concerned.

He steps in, placing his gifts on the table next to Azwel's bed, and pulls up a chair. The Titan looks his usual self, although there might be a bit more gray in his beard. The storm has not left him entirely unscathed.

"I heard you were among those who retrieved the cache of food that allowed most everyone to survive the last of the storm. The mortals of the Nexus owe you a debt of gratitude. Is there anything you need, while you are here?"

(no subject)

Date: 2019-03-29 02:22 pm (UTC)
liverfree: (relaxed happy)
From: [personal profile] liverfree
"It was probably the Winter spirit," Prometheus replies, once Azwel is done sharing what little he remembers. "I'm not entirely sure of his motivations, but perhaps he wanted to level the playing field by taking you out of play."

But if Azwel doesn't wish to speak further of his experience, the Titan is happy to oblige the subject change. "Yes. I purchased them from the gift shop, but all of the Nexus is in bloom now. Spring is settling in nicely."

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