[ open ] a not-so triumphant return

[braveoff]

Who: Drake and whoever's interested
What: Drake's been out of commission since the move, and needs to catch up on things and make himself useful. Whether he's in any condition to do so is up for debate.
Where: new guard HQ/clinic, outposts, spire 4, maybe a few other places
When: early January
Warnings: probably mentions of zombie stuff here and there

guard HQ/clinic construction

Although it's not like he was shirking work, the fact that he hasn't been able to help around the city really bothers Drake. Especially since Henry said it was expected of the guard. So pretty much the first thing he does once he's feeling steady again is head to the site of the new HQ and clinic, being built side by side. It looks like they've still got a ways to go, so Drake can certainly make himself useful. He jumps in expecting to be able to work as he usually would but it's not long before he starts to fade, arms shaking a little as he sets a heavy beam down on its end. Stubbornly, he doesn't want to take a break, doesn't want to acknowledge that he's weakened. He's back to himself mentally, and there's a need to be doing something to make up for the time he wasn't.

Maybe someone should stop him from picking it back up.

outposts

Okay so maybe construction work wasn't the best idea right now. Drake heads to the outposts the next day instead, wanting to sign up for patrol shifts. He can still manage that, right? He's looking for Henry specifically, but hopefully whoever's there will know something about the new schedule. Most of the guard should recognize him, but will note that he looks a little different these days. Thinner and paler, pale enough to question if he should be out under these suns, and his hair is growing in white at the roots. He's armed as usual, though, and approaches with an easy smile. Please put him to work. Please.

spire 4, 801

Moving in isn't hard. After being freed from his voluntary imprisonment, Drake went straight to pick up his stuff from Lup's. He doesn't have much. And Ephemera hadn't changed his mind despite what he saw, so... here he is. It feels like a bigger deal than it probably is but he unpacks quickly enough, and goes to settle in the living room for awhile. It'll probably take some time to feel like he actually lives here now, even considering how often he crashed before. Things are different.

Anyone can come by and check in -- that'd be nice, actually. Knowing that the people who saw him in that condition still want to associate with him.

text to Lance

Hey doc. How're you holding up?

Comments

[requiemshark]

Sharing space isn't new to Ephemera. He's been living out of pelicans and makeshift barracks since he was eighteen, sleeping back to back with his teammates. And then he was in prison, which was a little like being deployed. Always someone dangerous in his periphery.

He's never had anyone move in with him, though. Aside from prison, he never lived in one place long enough to even think about it. And there was never anyone else who--

Well.

Ephemera wanders into the living room with a small box tucked under his arm and sits down next to Drake, leaning against him. "Gods are getting their shit together. You'll never guess what I found."

He waves the box at Drake, grinning. It rattles. The box is green, though otherwise nondescript. And smells vaguely of mint and chocolate.

"Two guesses. They're edible. Might even be strong enough for you to taste."

[braveoff]

Drake smiles and takes the weight easily despite the fact that Ephemera outweighs him now. He's gotta get back in shape. The rattle of the box has him reaching out for it curiously, though it takes a moment for the smell to register.

"...no way. And I was just happy they got the water running again." He probably won't be able to taste it, spice is the only thing that really makes a difference, but. He's sure willing to try. "You're gonna share?"

[requiemshark]

Ephemera grins, running a hand playfully through Drake's hair. "I'm pretty happy about the water. But I fucking love chocolate. 'course I'm gonna share."

[braveoff]

That's nice, even if he's a little self conscious about the way his hair is coming in white now. He's never really been on board with the full on zombie look for himself. Maybe one of the other gods will deal for hair dye now.

"Yeah I know you do. It's a good day, chocolate and showers." And not being an incoherent monster tied to a pole. All good.

[requiemshark]

Ephemera tips his head to the side, resting his hand on Drake's arm. There's a pause, a barely perceptible hesitation before Drake answers. Maybe a tiredness in the way he holds himself. "It is a good day. We had some bad ones. But we made it out."

Doesn't make it easy. Doesn't make it simple, either.

Guard HQ/Clinic construction

[so_dark_a_road]

Curufin has been taking turns at various tasks. Being very strong, he is good for carrying heavy loads and helping place them where they belong, so that others can start hammering. He is in his oldest clothing and has a bandana tied around his head for a sweatband and to hold the mass of braided hair back off his face and shoulders.

He sees Drake struggling with the heavy beam and goes over to him. Drake is looking exhausted, and far more worn that he was when Curufin last spoke with him.

"Hey, let me help you with that, Drake? Or maybe you should take break for a little while."

Re: Guard HQ/Clinic construction

[braveoff]

"I'm fine," Drake says quickly, despite obviously not being fine. He wants to believe he is. Or that he will be, at least, if he keeps pushing. How else do you get strong again?

He glances up at Curufin, forcing a smile. Hoping the other won't ask any uncomfortable questions about why he looks like shit -- he's aware he does. There's just nothing he can do about it right now, without Delight and considering the food shortage.

"Haven't seen you for awhile, man. Glad you made it through."

[so_dark_a_road]

Drake is not fine, and Curufin can see that clearly enough. But the man is acting exactly like Curufin would under the same circumstances, and Curufin would not necessarily appreciate it if anybody told him to knock off for a while, or asked embarrassing questions.

He responds to the smile with one of his own, however. He has been doing his best to persuade Tranquility not to kill or imprison Delight, nor to exile her either, but he senses this is a losing battle. Whatever happens, Delight won't be available for any of her usual functions. But food is another matter.

"It sure is a lot of work, killing Null. But yes, I made it through all right." He opens a paper sack. "Want to share my lunch with me? It's not much, but we had some to spare in the Elfhouses." He offers the sack. Inside are sandwiches.

[braveoff]

...maybe that'd be a good idea. Slowly, Drake nods, tilting the beam so that it leans on an already completed section of the wall. He dusts his hands off and turns back towards Curufin, gesturing him to lead the way. Hopefully they can find somewhere with a little shade.

"Thanks for offering. If you've got enough I'll take you up on that."

[so_dark_a_road]

"Good. You look like you could use a square meal."

Curufin walks off the construction site to a stretch of lawn next to a nearby shop. The light of the two suns is currently at a convenient angle in the sky, allowing the shop to cast a shadow onto the lawn, so that the two workers can sit down on the cool grass in the shade of a wall and dig into the sandwiches.

Curufin pulls a couple of flasks of water out of his satchel as well as the sandwiches in their paper wrappings. He hands Drake a flask as well as a sandwich. "The water's drinkable. My son has been storing it by the barrel in some of the temples. Apparently, once water from a temple pool has been stored for a while, it loses its characteristic emotional effect, and then it's just plain water."

[text]

[lifetothefullest]

[The message is unexpected, but in a really good way.]

I'm fine; how are you doing?

[Surely the answer is 'better', but to what extent?]

Re: [text]

[braveoff]

Okay. I'm me again, at least. Hope came through before they had to kill me but the wait took its toll, I'm weaker than I'd like to admit.

[ Doesn't hurt to tell Lance, though. Especially since the ordeal took its toll in other ways, too, and on other people. ]

Just trying to make it up to people now.

[text]

[lifetothefullest]

I'm glad to hear that; not about the side effects, but at least that you're doing better.

[He's really, really relieved about that. But that last part concerns him a little, and he wants to be clear--]

There's nothing to make up; none of what happened was your fault.

Re: [text]

[braveoff]

It'll probably be easier to get my strength back when we aren't having a food shortage, honestly. But I'm working on it.

[ Probably more than he should be. Shhh. ]

...I know that. It still sucked for everybody else.

[text]

[lifetothefullest]

Yeah, and it's been weeks now. Hopefully they'll get to that issue soon.

[Especially since Hope must be well enough to provide what Drake needs, and that's a start.]

Yes, but so do a lot of things. It's not your responsibility to fix any of those either.

outposts;

[hotspurred]

Under the open shelter on the top of the outpost's roof, Henry stands with his unstrung bow and a quiver of heavy bodkin arrows at his hip, keeping watch. He turns his head at Drake's approach, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise at the state of the man. He assumes the white in Drake's hair is the result of stress from a difficult wound or bout of illness, since Drake also appears partly wasted. He's seen much worse, though, and Drake's demeanour is cheerful.

"So you return."

Henry dips his head in greeting and beckons Drake over.

"Know you how to shoot?"

Bow or gun, it does not particularly matter.

Re: outposts;

[braveoff]

"I return. Sorry it took so long, I was waiting on Hope."

Drake assumes Nick told Henry... something. Maybe not the whole truth, but enough to keep their fearless leader from being upset with his absence. He comes closer now, nodding.

"A gun, sure. I'm out of ammo after the Null attack, though, and I'm not sure if Rage is dealing right now." Or if he could really go monster hunting safely in his current state. But he won't admit that, to Henry or himself. He glances at Henry's bow curiously. "Never used one of those."

[hotspurred]

Henry's mouth momentarily twists into a faint smirk. The longbow — the English war bow — is a formidable weapon in expert hands.

"Nor could you, without many years of practice. Though a lesser bow..."

Certainly with him talking to Kate and Cecily about establishing an archery band and training up new archers, he hopes there are some interested in the art.

He looks back to his view.

"...You are welcome to see if any of Maketh's collection of bullets suit your weapon. I have been meaning to give her guns to Nick."

She taught him the basics of using them, but he much prefers the longbow. He enjoys the high physical demand: the way body and bow sing together, the burn of muscles working hard. Not to mention that he has mastery of it, which he lacks with guns. Nick will have a better idea of who in the Guard can make best use of them if Nick does not choose to keep them.

He'll have to go through what remains in her room at some point. Her things might as well be put to use.

[braveoff]

"Would you teach me?" The bow, he means, not yet reaching out to touch it but running his eyes over the smooth curves of the wood. It'd be good to have another long range weapon, even having improved with the axe and sword. Some things you don't want to get that personal with.

"I'd appreciate the bullets, too, but that looks pretty badass."

He doubts he could draw an arrow back fully in his current state, but... soon. At least that's what he's telling himself.

"Hey Henry, you've led an army for a long time, right? How long does it usually take someone to bounce back from.... this sort of thing."

[hotspurred]

"Bad... ass?" Henry echoes, puzzled, before pushing aside that distraction to answer decisively. "Certes I can teach you."

He has been teaching Kate the longbow for some time now, and look how far she has come.

At the second question, Henry gives Drake a long look, his brow furrowing as he considered what's being asked. Someone. He thinks of his brother Ralph nearly dying from a grievous thigh wound, yet back to full form by the next year. He thinks of Edward's slow, yet miraculous recovery from the illness that left him on his deathbed.

In his time he's seen countless men die from injury and disease on campaign. Even those who survive do not always recover to what they once were. But while Drake clearly wants honesty, Drake also seems to be looking for some hope.

Henry finally says, "In full? I would expect a matter of months and no faster. There is a balance to such recoveries. Whether 'tis illness or injury that wasted them, a person must push themselves to regain their former strength. Yet a person possesses a limit which, when exceeded, does harm to that progress. One cannot force mending and hope to mend well. It needs time. Effort must be paired with proper and sufficient rest. A lack of food and these extremes of heat will prove further hindrance."

He gives a little shrug. It is what it is. If they're fortunate, circumstances will allow it. War does not always afford that luxury, but they have reason to believe that the Null won't return anytime soon.

"It takes as long as it takes, so be not foolish."

[spire 4]

[synthedick]

There's a knock at the door, followed by a voice that's no doubt familiar to Drake by now.

"Anybody home?"

Nick knows the answer before he asks, but it's more of a courtesy than an actual inquiry. Given he was partially overseeing Drake's imprisonment, he made sure to find out where the guy would be living when he got out, mostly so he could swing by and check on him on occasion. Nick can keep tabs on the network easily enough, but he likes to drop by in-person every now and then, especially when one of the members of the Guard has gone through some tough times. It's unfortuanate Drake isn't the only one like that these days.

But he's got support -- they all do, whether they like it or not.

Re: [spire 4]

[braveoff]

Yup, Drake recognizes Nick's voice through the door, and he's smiling when he goes to answer it. He still looks sort of faded, but the light in his eyes is back. He's himself again, after coming frighteningly close to losing the fight. It sucks that Nick saw how far gone he was, but... he's still here. All his friends are, actually. It means a lot.

"Hey, Nick. Come on in." He opens the door a little wider and steps back, revealing the apartment's interior. He's only just moved in, so there's really nothing around that's his right now. The most noticeable thing is definitely all the art on the walls. Ephemera's paintings.

"Can I get you anything?"

[synthedick]

Nick returns Drake's smile -- frankly, after everything the city has been through in the past month or so, he's glad to see things are looking up for at least one person in town. "Nothing for me, thanks," he replies, stepping inside and taking a look around. He's never been much of one for fine art himself, but it's nice to see some folks trying to make Hadriel more like a home. His own home could use some sprucing up: even on her best days, Rey isn't much of one for decorating, and neither his he.

"I figured I'd stop in and make sure you're getting settled," he continues. He doesn't need to add that he's making sure Drake is really all right, but the implication is easy enough to pick up on.

[braveoff]

"I'm settled. Didn't have much to move and I'd been crashing here most of the time anyway." He leads the way into the living room, which is a bit cleaner -- less paint cans and drop cloths around, and the couch looks comfortable. They haven't had time yet to figure out curtains, so the Hadriel sun is full blast into the apartment, but it's not too warm just now.

"...you're worried I'm going to turn again? Or that coming so close did some kind of damage?"

Guard HQ/Clinic

[claritatis]

It hasn't been difficult to see that Drake has been flagging for most of the day, though he's valiantly fighting against it. Ignis hadn't been used to this kind of labour at first, though he's rallied since, but this doesn't look like the same kind of problem and he finds himself casting more frequent glances over at the man as the day wears on.

When Drake sets the beam down, Ignis is close enough to him that he can see the way his arms shake. He isn't sure if he should interfere, but he's seen it, and he won't forgive himself if Drake suffers some kind of injury because he said nothing.

"Drake," he calls, setting down his own work and taking a few steps over. "Why don't we take a break."