[ 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

[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."