hadriel_logs | Intro Log: Off my chest

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Intro Log: Off my chest

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for April.
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: April 10th-13th
Warnings: Newbies, explosions, and things that are definitely treasure chests and not evil monsters out to get you.

Welcome to your first day in Hadriel! Enjoy your surroundings, meet your fellow travelers, and be sure to start exploring so you can collect as much loot as possible!

On the ground around you may notice bang snaps, scattered haphazardly. Try not to step on any of them, or you might burn your feet! Feel free to gather them up and use these baby fireworks however you see fit; there are dozens strewn about on the ground. Popping them will emit clouds of smoke of various colors, and... well, not much else.

Is there anything else lurking around? Glad you asked! If you look around, you may find a few innocent-looking treasure chests. Which you know, normally means free loot- except, in Hadriel, nothing is quite the way it's advertised of course and the chests are actually dangerous mimics. Mimics- often disguised as treasure chests- are monsters with surprisingly quick movements and gaping maws filled with teeth. They exist to try and fool an unlucky traveler into thinking they've gotten something good... only to lunge at them in their moment of triumph and prove that life is actually terrible and nothing comes for free.

Good luck!

Once you've managed your daring escape from the colosseum, feel free to go explore the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers April 10th-13th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well!
► All characters now arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's no reason not to take Rey's word on the matter. Maketh frowns, though. Wounds need to be dealt with. And it hardly matters what the intent was. Consider that later. Survive the moment. "It needs to be covered. Closed if possible. I can take you to a medic, or I can try and do it myself. Pick one."

Refusing treatment is not an option she'll allow.

It becomes swiftly apparent that Maketh isn't someone who will take no for an answer. Rey frowns as she considers her options, lowering her shirt once again to cover the wound.

"Would rather not go to a clinic." She isn't too keen on the prospect of someone she doesn't know poking and prodding at her, let alone her injuries.

That settles it, then. Maketh nods just once. "I have supplies at my apartment. Can you make it that far?"

She can clean it again and put a bandage on it, at least. Give Rey some alcohol to dull the pain. Later, Maketh knows she'll have to find a way to either convince Rey to see a real doctor or trick her into doing so, but that's a decision for further down the road. Focus on the now. Break each task into steps.

First, get Rey inside. Clean the wound again. It's been rubbing up against Rey's shirt. Even if it was cleaned, it's no longer so. Put a bandage on it. Check Rey for other injuries. There were bruises on her stomach. Possible internal injuries. One step at a time.

"Yes. Where do you live?"

Rey has made it this far on her own two feet. After everything she has been through, she has no doubt that she can carry herself even farther than this.

She attempts to straighten her posture once again, but winces and just about curls into herself, bringing her hand back over the hole in her chest, now concealed under the cloth of her shirt.

Yeah, she's in pain. Maketh thins her mouth. "Spire one. Come on. There you go."

She offers her arm, after a moment. Just in case.

Rey shakes her head at Maketh's hand, declining her offer. She'll have plenty of time to be manhandled later; she'd rather delay the inevitable if possible.

"Got it. Just lead the way."

"All right. It's not far."

That's true, thankfully. Maketh doubts she'd be able to carry Rey if it comes to that. She hopes it won't. Manhandling unconscious people across uncertain terrain has never been her idea of fun. A few drunken misadventures have made it happen before, though.

Whatever brought this moment about, Maketh doubts it was a celebration. But then, Rey said it hadn't been meant to kill. So there was that.

Maketh kept a careful eye on Rey the whole time, but didn't try to speak. There would be time for that later. "It's the first one -- right here."

She holds the door open.

Unless Maketh turned out to be some sort of super woman, Rey has doubts that she would even be sustained. She's much heavier than she appears, even for someone of her stature. Having a metal skeleton will pack on a couple extra hundred pounds.

That said, Rey is certain that she would only slow Maketh down if the other woman were to attempt to sustain her weight. That she can carry on her own, as she follows Maketh to her home and helps herself the moment that door is open for her. She doesn't waste much time before finding a couch to plop down in.

"Appreciate it," she eventually says with a strained exhale, as though it hurt to breathe. Just because she isn't beaming with gratitude doesn't mean she's churlish.

All right, the first part is done. Maketh closes the door firmly, then goes to fetch her medical kit. She stops in the kitchen on the way back for some alcohol, to clean the wound and also to - hopefully - make Rey a touch more cooperative. At the very least, it ought to dull the pain a little.

She passes the whiskey over silently and kneels down by the couch. "Lift your shirt, okay? And try not to punch me."

Rey waits patiently for Maketh to return, placing her hand over her stomach. It would seem that her healing hadn't completely dispelled the ache from the recent beating she'd endured. Not that she's surprised. There is some part of her that would rather feel every bit that she is feeling right now. She doesn't deserve a reprieve.

In spite of this, Rey accepts the whiskey handed to her, popping open the bottle to down a few swallows as if it's water. It isn't just the physical pain that she needs this for, after all.

Handing it back, she nods and holds her shirt up again. If Maketh inspects thoroughly, she'll find that whatever did Rey in went clean through her body -- she has a similar wound in her back. Along with a few extra scrapes, scars, and bruises here and there.

"No worries," she assures. "Have dealt with worse pain than this."

Like that's supposed to make anyone feel better.

"That's nice," Maketh murmurs, setting out her medical kit. It's really not, but this is not the time to reminisce about past horrors. First things first, she needs to clean the wound again. Rey said it had been cauterized, so that was one problem already solved, but the process isn't quite done yet.

Maketh leans in close, frowning. The wound is deep, more serious than her training is really prepared to deal with. But she's here and Rey hasn't died yet, so there's hope. She snaps on a pair of surgical gloves and reminds herself not to hesitate. Blood is nothing. Maketh is used to blood. "I'm going to rinse it first, then flush the wound. It's going to hurt. A lot. Try to hold still."

Even Rey can catch a bit of sarcasm in Maketh's tones, but decides not to say anything about it. She's reluctant to even mention the cauterized wound in her shoulder from where she had been stabbed with a steak knife. Because that isn't cause for concern or anything and it's not gushing out blood, so it's all good. Isn't that how it works?

Either way, no. Rey has not died yet. And she has died plenty of times to know when she's on the brink of death.

"Right. What's a little more pain, anyway?" She shrugs, still holding onto her shirt so Maketh can get the job done.

~~Rey you are in so much trouble when she finds out about your shoulder.~~

Maketh hums, more to herself than Rey, and unceremoniously dumps the medical alcohol onto the wound. It'll sting and there will be pain - a fair amount - but she thinks Rey will live. The process might not be pleasant, but she'll live.

First part done. Now to flush the wound.

She uses saline this time. It stings less. The discharge still comes out bloody. Maketh frowns. "You've opened it up. Not much. But a little. This will take longer than I thought."

~~Oops. To be fair even Rey has forgotten that it's there.~~

Pain she can handle. A little? A lot? Doesn't matter. She's had limbs blown off before so this is a scratch compared to other injuries she's suffered.

Having a little basic knowledge in first aid herself, Rey knows how the routine goes. She nods. "Just do what you have to do."

The sooner this is over with, the better.

~~Excuses. Be prepared for a lecture.~~

To Maketh's surprise, Rey doesn't flinch. Her breathing doesn't stutter or change at all. How strange. Her pain tolerance must be amazing. Perhaps she can turn it off at will, if part or most of her body is synthetic? Maketh heard rumors the Jedi could do such things. Change their very physiology by sheer force of will.

Not that it matters. Tissue regeneration doesn't appear to be one of Rey's talents, so Maketh goes about it the old fashioned way. What she wouldn't give for some bacta gel. Rey's lucky that Maketh knows anything about old world medicine in the first place. The Empire has largely outgrown such things.

Hadriel is a few steps back, technology wise.

When she's done flushing the wound and cleaning it out as best she can, Maketh puts a bandage on it, securing it with medical tape. She's careful to leave one side untaped, to let air escape. "All right. I need to see your back now. It went all the way through."

~~Thanks to her brother, she's used to them.~~

While Rey is able to dissociate herself from the pain, she allows herself to experience this one. The hurt that led her to this state is something that she needs to feel.

Once Maketh is done, Rey brings herself back to the present and blinks. Is she done already?

No, of course not.

"Yes," she confirms, rolling up her shirt a little more and turning so that Maketh could inspect her back. "It was a rebar."

The angle of the injury is a little downwards, avoiding any vitals. The most notable thing about her from this side is the deep gash scar on her lower back, which isn't terribly old.

"A--a rebar?"

Oh by all that's holy, how is she still alive? Maketh shakes her head. The shock alone would have killed most people. It's a damn miracle the thing didn't puncture Rey's intestines, or anything essential for survival. "Do I want to know?"

Maketh pauses, still holding the antibiotic cream. Her gloves are bloody now. "Is there anything I need to know, anything that concerns the safety of the people here?"

If Rey were human, no doubt she would have died. Truth be told, she didn't know whether or not she would survive whatever was in store for her, so she tries not to think about it very much. The one reason she's even able to sit upright now is because of Hope's blessing.

"It's a long story." Rey shrugs. "As for everyone's safety... It shouldn't be a problem. The danger was back home, not here."

Did she mention that she went back to her own world for a few weeks? She probably should have.

"Oh. You went back."

Maketh sounds surprised, but not floored. The same thing happened to Newt, not so long ago. It ended with less impalement. She shakes her head and presses the bandage on. "There. You should see a real doctor, but that will hold for now.

Rey nods. She has been vigilant on the network enough to be aware of the possibility, thanks to Newt. She just never anticipated it ever happening to her. At least, not this soon.

Bringing a hand to her shoulder, she winces. Truth be told she forgot that she was hurting so much in other places, too.

Rather than drawing attention to this, however, she just says, "Thank you. Appreciate it."

Maketh catches the motion before Rey can hide her expression and frowns. Her expression is not impressed. At all. "Anything else I should know about?"

"Nothing that can't be handled," Rey insists, having cauterized the knife wound in her shoulder before even returning to Hadriel.

This one, she feels, she deserves more than anything.

"Uh huh. Just like you handled this one." Maketh scowls up at her, feeling her eye beginning to twitch. People need to follow protocol. Why does no one follow the protocol? "Show me."

Huff. Why does no one ever believe her when she says she's fine?

(Probably because Rey is very rarely fine.)

This one is easier to reveal, wearing a tanktop -- all she has to do is turn and peel the strap to the side, revealing a burn mark just above her left shoulder blade. It looks as though heat had been used to cauterize the serrated edge of a knife.

"It's nothing serious."

Maketh narrows her eyes. Why are people like this? "What were you stabbed with?"

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