Day 123 [OPEN]

[bastionmods]

Who: Everyone
Open: Open
When: Day 123
Where: All over the Bastion
What: Obligatory "We just got more people/survived a hellish experience" mingle log!
Format: Your choice!
Warnings: Shouldn't be any?

[So the past few days in the Bastion have been very hectic and a little more than emotionally stressful for everyone. About two days have come and gone since the last very large batch of arrivals have come in to the Bastion, and thankfully since then it's been relatively quiet. It's a good time to compress, meet some new people and maybe have some good food at the distillery courtesy of Rin.]

Comments

Re: B/C

[wayofvoice]

[Paarthurnax has never been subject to Dragonrend, even though he knows what it can do. For a moment, the feeling of loss and, briefly, burning, is so much that he nearly thinks that he has been hit with it. But no- he realizes otherwise soon enough, soon enough to right his wings before he can crash into the Bastion. He lands, shakily, and shakes himself but then the screaming begins. He's quick on his wings for an old dovah, and he's pressing his face down onto the boy. The spikes dig into his scales, draw thick dark red blood, but he takes it. He simply keeps the boy down, thinking of what happened earlier on that mission and wanting to prevent anything from happening again.]

[When Crona finally just collapses, Paarthurnax raises his head somewhat. There'll be new scars on his face, now, but he doesn't seem much concerned with the thick blood slipping down his face.]

Stiildus tum, Vokunsumah. Hi los tirahk. Til los nid hask. Siiv drem tuum hinmaar.

[blackblooded]

[Crona twitches, shaking involuntarily under the pressure of the dragons' head. The meister's barely alert when Paarthurnax starts talking, and Rangarok's consciousness is curled up in the back of his soul, defensive and radiating pain into his meister's mind.

A large drop of blood hits the ground in front of Crona's face, and Crona cautiously sits up, still shaking slightly.]

W-what happened?

[wayofvoice]

I would not know. [With Crona talking instead of screaming, Paarthurnax pulls his head back completely. Sorry, Crona, you might be covered in just a little bit of dragon blood.] Luh, if I were to guess- magic. I cannot be certain however.

[blackblooded]

[It's not the first time Crona's been covered in blood, or even the first time Crona's been covered in dragon blood.

The meister's still shaky, probably will be for the rest of the day. Soul rejection is never easy to recover from.]

I-it hurt Ragnarok.

[And there's something defensive and protective and angry in Crona's tone. Crona gets hurt all the time, Crona's used to it. Ragnarok isn't, and no one should hurt him.]

[wayofvoice]

You should go to rest, then. [Another small nudge, another large smear of blood.] Find your abode, and I will search for the cause. It hurt me less than it had you.

[The bleeding face doesn't really bother him. He's tangled with worse.]

[blackblooded]

I.... [Crona tries to stand, nearly topples over because Ragnarok's slow to respond and the blood rushes from Crona's head.

Crona's crying and doesn't even notice.]

I... have to find the Professor.

[wayofvoice]

[Paarthurnax moves his head closer, offering it so that Crona can lean against him.]

Where would he be?

[blackblooded]

I... I.... [and the sense of loss gone missing forever lingers in Crona's soul, and the meister stumbles over gasping sobs, collapsing against Paarthurnax's head.]

[wayofvoice]

[Paarthurnax keeps the young one up, and a low rumble starts up in his throat that will reverberates throughout that small frame.]

Peace. Peace, vokunsumah, I am here.

[blackblooded]

[Paarthurnax is here, but so many other people aren't. Maka and Miss Marie and Maka's scythe and the little reaper and his weapons and the loud boy and his quiet weapon and all the other people in classes and Lord Death and all the witches and every single person who has ever existed in the world, every person that all the important people risked their lives to save all gone and Crona can't do anything but cling to the giant dragon and cry.]

[wayofvoice]

[If that is what Crona needs, then Paarthurnax will oblige. He just continues to make the deep rumbling noise and keeps his bloody head pressed up against the other.]

[blackblooded]

[And Crona's going to cry for a while. Paarthurnax might have to do something to get Crona moving again.]

[wayofvoice]

[Does just kind of... lifting his head up with Crona still on it work? Because he will certainly carry him to the food area. There have to be people there, after all. There are always humans near food.]

[blackblooded]

[Lifting up his head gets Crona's attention, and the meister instantly moves away from the dragon.]

I.... [and Crona wipes away tears with the tattered cuff of a sleeve.] I'll go.

[wayofvoice]

I would carry you, if you needed it. Are you sure you are well?

[blackblooded]

W-we'll be fine. Ragnarok and me. We'll just go to the apartment. Maybe the professor's there.

[wayofvoice]

Perhaps he is. Keep safe, Vokunsumah.

[blackblooded]

[A nod, then an impulsive press of palms against the dragon's scales as if that physical contact is the same as a grateful hug. Then Crona cautiously turns to walk off. Maybe the corner of Crona's room will still be there when the meister gets back.]