hadriel_logs | Event Log: End of Arc 2

Entry tags:

Event Log: End of Arc 2

Who: All characters
What: The event log for the End of Arc 2
Where: All over the city
When: November 25th-December 12th
Warnings: A full-scale battle, including character death, NPC death, and various other ways to suffer

It was bound to happen. The Null warned you, after all, and this has been building for awhile - and now it's here. First comes the initial attack, the agents of the Null attacking Hope's temple. Then, an SOS, warning the city of what's happened: a betrayal, and Hope being injured. Luckily for everyone, thanks to the actions of his guards Hope survives the attack. Unluckily, his attacker, the goddess Delight, escapes and lets the Null in.

Flooding into the cave, the Null will attack anyone who they believe is resisting them. They'll destroy buildings and deploy dangerous crowd control weapons, in addition to their sheer strength and speed. Confusion empties the monsters in the tunnels into the city, to help distract the Null. Some gods fight, others provide safe havens, but everyone is in danger.

After about a week and a half of the attack, Fear summons enough power to teleport the city. This stops any new Null from arriving through the tunnels, but the remaining Null must be hunted down and destroyed, or else they'll signal their location to the rest of their species. The danger will lessen as Null are taken out, but things won't really be safe until Fear moves the city again, so don't get too comfortable.

What will you do? Run and hide? Fight? Help the fighters? Turn on the gods yourself? Whatever you do, it's time to make a decision.

► This log covers November 25th-December 12th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you get taken out by the Null, please let us know here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It is my duty to attend the wounded, and trekking up several flights of stairs may exacerbate any injuries you have sustained.

[That's Carlisle's long-winded way of saying that no, he's going to get off his terrified keister and come to Lance.]

[Oh, right, the stairs issue. Yeah, that would be a problem, and the idea of climbing them--which he used to do while he was injured here before, and looking back he has no idea how he managed it--is enough to prevent further argument.

He has a compromise, though.]

I'll meet you at the base of the spire?

[No climbing for him, no going out into the city for Carlisle, and they're right near a place to take cover if they need to.]

[A compromise, of course. Carlisle should have expected nothing less.]

All right. I will be there shortly.

[And so he is. Carlisle looks a little more frazzle than usual, given his partner is somewhere out there in the chaos of the city and he's at home feeling both useless and helpless in this siege, but at least he is unharmed... for now.]

[He takes longer to get there, unsurprisingly, since he's a bit farther away. But he arrives as quickly as he can, glad to see Carlisle seems at least physically okay at the moment.

Lance doesn't have any obvious injuries himself, but it's apparent close up that he's pale and looks generally unwell. He's also a little unsteady on his feet and his hands are shaking, but he's trying to avoid making that too obvious by hiding them in the pocket of his hoodie.

He even manages a small smile in greeting, although it doesn't last long.]

Hi, Carlisle. Thank you for meeting me.

[Even as Lance tries to hide his ill health, Carlisle notices it. It's glaringly obvious when the man is usually so tidy, composed.]

Of course. I apologize for my initial rudeness. It was unbecoming of me.

[He brings his eyes back up to meet Lance's, but the guilt still sits in his brow.]

I suppose somewhere with a chair would have been better, but sitting on the steps will have to do.

[At the apology, and especially at that expression, Lance shakes his head just a little--still a terrible idea, as he's instantly dizzy--and tries to reassure him a bit.]

No, it's fine, everyone's...

[Something. Words.]

Everyone's stressed.

[So it's fine. And he's not complaining about the lack of a chair because yeah, the stairs work fine, and he sinks down onto them pretty much immediately.]

That is certainly putting it lightly.

[The clergyman mumbles that response as he tugs at the fabric of his gloves, freeing his hands. He pauses, his eyes flicking to Lance.]

Have you any open wounds? Or is the pain you spoke of internal?

[Lance watches Carlisle mess with his gloves, but not really with his usual focus and intensity. The question takes a moment to reply to, although that's mostly because he's thinking about it and only slightly due to the general mental haziness that's been coming and going.]

It's mostly internal.

[His shoulder is burned a little from where he'd actually been hit with the projectile, but it's not serious and he'd rather just ignore it; its location makes it difficult to let Carlisle take a look without also having to potentially explain other old injuries, which he's not mentally up for at the moment.]

My muscles are really sore, and my chest hurts, so it's just...

[One of those things that's a little scary, even if he hopes he's overreacting and it isn't anything to worry about after all. Better to be sure, right?]

It could be serious, it could not. We shall see.

[Don't think that pause before the answer didn't catch Carlisle's attention, Lance. However, he mistakes it for purposeful hesitation.]

It's easier for me to feel for and mend your injuries with direct contact. Anywhere will do, though closer to the site of the wound does make it easier.

[He knows well enough how uncomfortable it can be to bare his chest, and expects the same from most people, despite what he's seen in Hadriel from time to time.]

[Okay, well, he'd thought that might be the case, and he has a brief internal debate with himself about what to do. But he's asking Carlisle for a favor here anyway, so the least he can do is not make it any more difficult for him than is necessary.

Unzipping his hoodie is a bit difficult with his hands shaking, but he gets it open and off after a moment of struggling with it. Fortunately enough he's wearing a teeshirt underneath, instead of one with long sleeves, so he can just bunch up the sleeve and stretch the fabric a bit to expose the burn on his chest just below his right collarbone. In doing so, enough of the top of his shoulder is revealed that, depending on the angle, it's possible to see the edges of a few very old scars that extend out of view down his back. But since they're not too obvious, Lance is going to try the tactic of simply avoiding mentioning anything about them and instead just hoping Carlisle doesn't notice.]

The burn isn't too bad, at least, but I don't recommend the experience.

[It's a super pathetic attempt at both a joke and a distraction.]

I don't believe you would, no.

[The joke goes either completely missed or ignored; either way, Carlisle doesn't laugh, his eyes focused on the burn. He doesn't see the other scars for now; it will not remain that way for long, given how his abilities work.]

Unfortunately, this is going to burn a bit more as I mend it. [At least he tries to warn people these days.] But thankfully, it does not look as serious as it could be. I suppose we shall see if there is any internal damage, won't we?

[He gives Lance an attempt at a reassuring smile.]

[Oh well, he'll just give himself an A for effort anyway. He watches Carlisle carefully, not out of suspicion but just to see where his attention is, and fortunately that seems to be on the task at hand at least for now.

The warning's appreciated, even if it's a little confusing, and he has to ask--]

It burns to heal?

[Not that he can't deal with that, it's just kind of weird and he's curious as to how and why that works.]

It is the nature of the healing channel, unfortunately. It also allows me gauge the severity of your injuries, even those on the inside that I cannot see, without an invasive procedure, so it is not without its benefits.

[That includes older injuries, Lance. It's hard to hide such things from a healer of his expertise.]

[Let him have his delusions, okay!!! But this is definitely part of the reason he's so careful about which doctors or healers he deals with; ultimately it won't be the worst thing ever if Carlisle finds out, because Lance knows him well enough to less concerned, but he'd be far more nervous with someone he were less familiar with.]

Okay. It can't be worse than being electrocuted was, right?

[Right? But even if it does, if it means he won't suddenly and unexpectedly drop dead from some untreated internal injury then it's well worth it. It also sounds a lot like what Brennan described when she used the temporary healing ability Hope gave her, only that had been painless, but it makes sense logically.]

Edited 2017-12-15 19:06 (UTC)

[Now that gets a slight chuckle out of Carlisle.]

I imagine not, no. And what it is that I do won't kill you.

[Hopefully. It has yet to happen, and if there is one thing in this entire realm of existence in which he's confident, it's his capacity to heal others. He gingerly places a hand along Lance's collarbone, aware that his fingers are likely uncomfortably cold.]

Let us begin then.

[He tests the waters with a slow thrum of energy; while he would normally channel more to assess the injuries and heal them as quickly and efficiently as possible, he wants to make sure the searing sensation of having energy pushed through him is not going to make Lance's condition worse.]

[Hey, success. Carlisle's fingers are definitely cold, and if it were any other situation Lance might make a teasing comment about poor circulation, but as it is he's a little apprehensive once again and so just concentrates on not fidgeting.

The feeling of energy is again more familiar than expected, at least in a way; it's also reminiscent of how Hope's blessing felt, or even the sensation of channeling magic to cast the few spells Lance has learned from Kyna. Of course, none of those burned, but he was still expecting this to be worse than it is; so far he can ignore it, even if he winces a little on reflex. It definitely isn't making his current injuries any worse, though.

He wants to ask if that's the way it's going to stay, or if the feeling will change as Carlisle continues, but doesn't want to distract him and so decides to hold off for now.]

[The doctor remains steady, and so Carlisle prods further, the sensation of his energy flowing stronger and further as he concentrates, sending it into Lance's muscles and through his tissues to seek out any internal wounds. The elecrocution did his muscles no favors, certainly; however, the damage isn't anything that would have been fatal, and so it causes little stress on Carlisle to mend what burns he finds. The marred skin on the outside smooths and heals over, the wound vanishing entirely as if it'd never been.

The clergyman's energy finds other anomalies though, ebbing against places that are not as they once were. Lance may feel that stinging current reach through him toward his shoulder and back, toward the scars that lie there; Carlisle's brow knits as it does.]

These are older.

[He mutters that to himself, but it's plenty audible.]

Edited 2017-12-15 22:47 (UTC)

[It's not the most pleasant feeling in the world, especially when it gets stronger, but it could be a lot worse and is more than worth it as he feels the internal injuries begin to resolve. The combination of weakness and soreness in his muscles lessens, and his hands stop trembling and some of the mental fog--what was caused by the injuries rather than exhaustion and stress--begins to clear.

But he does feels the creep of magic toward his back and this time he does flinch a little from the sensation, and with Carlisle's quiet comment it's clear that particular secret is out. So he tries to offer a vague reassurance, both to get out of much explanation and so as not to make Carlisle worry.]

It's okay, they're not... It's been a long time. They're fine.

[Or not exactly fine, but it's been over twenty years and those marks, along with the assorted healed fractures--some from a similar time as the scars, others from later and due to more benign reasons--and other old injuries are things he's long since gotten used to. There's no need for Carlisle to waste energy on them.]

Are they.

[That wasn't exactly a question, but there's something in the way Lance says they're fine that resonates with Carlisle. He's insisted that about his own scars loads of times, despite their being anything but.

Older wounds tend to be harder to repair, but Carlisle is thankfully an adept healer. Some injuries, however, remain for a reason: the scars across his own abdomen can be healed with neither traditional nor magical means because of his affliction, but some individuals choose to keep theirs as reminders of a cause, of an event, or of times they'd rather not forget.

And which is it for Lance? Carlisle opens his eyes, their glow vibrant in the relative darkness of the stairwell as he maintains his aural connection, and he searches for Lance's gaze.]

Should I leave those, then? [His voice is softer, less matter-of-fact than his usual tone of composure.] Or would you rather I tend to them, as well?

[Lance's gaze is fixed on the far wall, mentally withdrawn to concentrate on how the healing is progressing--at least as much as he's able to--as well as to just distance himself in a way from the conversation. But when Carlisle tries to make eye contact he doesn't avoid it, even if it's probably very clear in his eyes just how conflicted he is.

Does he want Carlisle to heal them? He isn't sure, suddenly, mostly because it's something he's never thought about as a possibility before. Part of him immediately says yes; he doesn't need the physical reminder of what happened, because it's something that he rarely goes a day without thinking about at least once and he doubts that'll change. But at the same time it feels almost like cheating, and he thinks back to the conversation he had with Adam about how different things were in Pleasant Valley, when they'd both been without such reminders and the experiences that went with them.]

I don't know.

[He finally says it after several seconds of silence, before looking away at the wall again.]

I have to... I have to think about it. And I don't want you to waste your energy while the situation is as it is.

[He definitely doesn't want to exhaust Carlisle, especially not for decades-old scars, and it'll give him time to sort out his thoughts provided the offer stands after they handle the Null.]

[Carlisle would press further, insist that he has energy to spare on something so trifling -- certainly now with Glacius' blessing of the Mote -- but he knows better. He knows when someone needs time to find an answer within themselves, if there is an answer to be sought at all. He might struggle with the nuances of interaction with other people, but he can see the conflict in Lance's eyes.

And so he lowers his own before closing them once more.] As you wish. [Lance may feel one more surge through him, Carlisle checking for any additional injuries, before the searing wave recedes and he removes his hand. He rubs at his fingers, fighting that stiffness that seeps into them with his usual practice.]

Give it a minute, then tell me how you feel.

[It's a great relief that Carlisle just accepts that answer and doesn't argue or press, and Lance very much appreciates it. It makes the whole thing a lot less stressful to deal with, and he lets out a long breath when the magic withdraws.

He lets go of his sleeve, nodding a little as he smooths it out to show Carlisle that he heard him, and focuses on zipping back up his hoodie. That he can do so at all is a clear indication of how much of a difference the healing made already, his hands no longer shaking and the painful sense of heaviness in his chest gone, but he gives it a little more time as requested before speaking.]

I feel a lot better. It doesn't hurt anymore, and I'm not shaking.

[He still feels a little weak, but he imagines that's to be expected and more from exhaustion or needing to eat than before of the electrocution.]

Thank you, Carlisle.

It is my duty and my honor to [cough] help where I can.

[The clergyman recites that like he says it a lot. Probably part of his religious doctrine. He watches Lance's hands and arms, making sure he's not just feigning wellness for his sake.]

If you have any other injuries you need mended, you know how to reach me.

[That goes for the older ones, too.]

Are you okay?

[He doesn't miss the coughing, which might be a good indicator he's not faking anything; he's much sharper and more focused now than he was in the beginning of the conversation.

And he appreciates the offer, both in terms of the obvious meaning and the underlying one.]

I'll keep that in mind, and if there's anything I can do for you...

[Don't hesitate to ask.]

[Carlisle gives a vague wave of his hand meant to answer the question and the offer given to him. It does a poor job, and even he knows it, so he manages a few words after hacking into his hand. Nothing comes up just yet; though the energies of the Mote keep him from exhaustion, they do nothing for the expulsion of ink that comes with his curse.]

Of course, doctor. I, too, will keep that in mind. Actually—

[Nope, still coughing. This question is pressing, though:]

Have you been to the Clinic recently? Or seen anyone who was defending it?

Event Log: End of Arc 2

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