The Emissary ♈ Aradia Megido (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
emissaries) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thebastion2014-11-19 01:21 pm
emissaries) wrote in thebastion2014-11-19 01:21 pm
Entry tags:
Day 248, Night ♈ Open
Who: the Emissary, the Disciple, the Psiioniic, and you!
Open: Open like love is a door
When: Day 248, some hours after this.
Where: Near the entrance to the Skyway.
What: The trolls finally drag their asses into the Bastion.
Format: Starting with prose, but will follow.
Warnings: Troll blood and injuries. Also, the Psiioniic.
Darkness descended suddenly upon the three trolls as they passed into the limits of the Bastion, the sourceless, diffuse light from the Skyway fading to almost nothing within the span of a minute. Though a bit surprising (at least, until the Disciple explained this was normal), to someone nocturnal it was like coming into light after hours in the dark. Night felt safer, and the lights in the windows were a welcome sight, even with the architecture so unmistakably alien.
They must have made an odd sight, the three of them. Though the Disciple had already lived here for a little while, her two companions were new. One was a woman, with huge spiraling horns (yet somehow wearing a fedora), her black-and-red pantsuit stained liberally with something dull yellow. The other was male, carried on her back, severely emaciated and barely conscious, with the same yellow substance oozing from and beginning to crust over dozens of punctures and gouges, the worst along his spine and head. (The yellow stuff, of course, was his blood. We are all completely blown away by this stunning revelation.)
The Emissary glanced from building to building as they passed, trying to determine which one was their destination. Not having an amulet of her own, she couldn't read any verbal signage, and while some of the visuals explained themselves, none suggested a culling hive1 to her. If they were to run into any locals outdoors, she hoped the situation - and the Psiioniic's urgent need of care - would be more self-evident, without the need to play charades.
1 "Culling" means "taking care of," or "nursing back to health." Obviously. Everybody knows that.
Open: Open like love is a door
When: Day 248, some hours after this.
Where: Near the entrance to the Skyway.
What: The trolls finally drag their asses into the Bastion.
Format: Starting with prose, but will follow.
Warnings: Troll blood and injuries. Also, the Psiioniic.
Darkness descended suddenly upon the three trolls as they passed into the limits of the Bastion, the sourceless, diffuse light from the Skyway fading to almost nothing within the span of a minute. Though a bit surprising (at least, until the Disciple explained this was normal), to someone nocturnal it was like coming into light after hours in the dark. Night felt safer, and the lights in the windows were a welcome sight, even with the architecture so unmistakably alien.
They must have made an odd sight, the three of them. Though the Disciple had already lived here for a little while, her two companions were new. One was a woman, with huge spiraling horns (yet somehow wearing a fedora), her black-and-red pantsuit stained liberally with something dull yellow. The other was male, carried on her back, severely emaciated and barely conscious, with the same yellow substance oozing from and beginning to crust over dozens of punctures and gouges, the worst along his spine and head. (The yellow stuff, of course, was his blood. We are all completely blown away by this stunning revelation.)
The Emissary glanced from building to building as they passed, trying to determine which one was their destination. Not having an amulet of her own, she couldn't read any verbal signage, and while some of the visuals explained themselves, none suggested a culling hive1 to her. If they were to run into any locals outdoors, she hoped the situation - and the Psiioniic's urgent need of care - would be more self-evident, without the need to play charades.
1 "Culling" means "taking care of," or "nursing back to health." Obviously. Everybody knows that.
no subject
He's not actually well enough to do this, mind you. If Nanaki pays attention, she'll notice there's a faint and alternating red-blue glow around his hands. Psionics are a beautiful thing.
no subject
"He's yellowblooded, I'm green, she's red, we're practically a conveyance light. Calm down a little, you'd think you'd never seen colored blood."
no subject
"We come in peace," she said. "But yes, our friend is injured. Is there a doctor in this village?"
no subject
"Er, right," Nanaki says, focusing on the most important parts first. Blood color shenanigans can be sorted out later. She points in the direction of the hospital, and she adds, "I think Yukio's at the hospital right now? He's usually there. But, uh, I don't know if he's worked on anyone not-human before."
no subject
The hands do flop down after that brief greeting, however, and he goes still again. Docterrorist, hospital, whatever, you can do whatever you like to him. He doesn't care. Chop off his limbs if that's what you want. Who even cares? He sure doesn't.
no subject
"Thank you." She looks ahead for the hospital, unsure. She could take anybody who tried to hurt him. She was pretty sure of that fact. Maybe.
no subject