hadriel_logs | Intro Log: Puddle Jumpers

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Intro Log: Puddle Jumpers

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for September
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: September 10th-13th
Warnings: Fresh meat, lots of rain and angry ogres

If the rain on your face isn't enough to wake you up in the colosseum, maybe the thundering footsteps and- well, thunder- is. The first thing that you may notice is that it's incredibly wet around here, with winds that could knock you over if you aren't careful and thunder that brings with it a torrent of constant rainfall.

That's all fine though, because the gods saw fit to help you out on your way in and now everyone will be waking up wearing a rain coat! These coats are a little odd, and some of them are downright silly, but we trust that you'll make do. Of course, a few of the raincoats have additional sleeves, neck holes, and entirely too many buttons as well- but hey, it's the best we could do.

Wait, what was that about thundering footsteps? Oh right, as you're navigating your new fashion choices, there are some monsters afoot who will want nothing more than to grind you into a pulp and eat you- well, if you're organic, that is. If you're not organic, then they still want to grind you to a pulp, but maybe not so much the eating part.

Ogres are from many fantasy stories, but these in particular are from the Dragon Age series. With incredible strength and stamina and massive horns, fangs, and a bloodlust for violence, these monsters won't stop until everyone around them is a blood smear on the ground. They're also not too happy about this rainfall either, so be careful not to slip in the puddles as you run away from them!

Once you've splashed around a bit, feel free to run off into the stormy abyss of our islands. You can explore the rest of the city! Find a house, a new monster, a project to help with, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Drake arrives at the colosseum on arrivals day as usual -- the only difference from it being any other month on his end is that he's got Tinya at his side this time, someone to keep an eye on as they're trying to help the newbies. She's seemed pretty capable so far but this is the real test, seeing how she handles what the Door's thrown at them. Right away, he knows it's going to be a test indeed. The monsters are massive brutes, and he hangs back for a moment to take a quick assessment of things. Where are the newcomers in relation to the creatures, who seems to need help most? The storm makes this a more difficult thing to discern than usual, if not for the torrential rain obscuring his view Drake would be in motion already... but as much of a problem as it is, it might help a little too. If he's having trouble seeing, odds are so are the monsters.

Once he jumps into the action, it's pretty much nonstop. They've cleared most of the colosseum out by the time he finds it, and it's a complete accident that he does at all. He nearly trips over it, distracted by trying to keep track of the threats around him in the rain, but once he's right beside the thing there's no mistaking it.

It's a helmet, custom painted black and red. Distinctive, at least to Drake. Not something he could ever forget.

This is not the time to stop fighting to pick up something abandoned on the ground, but Drake is completely overwhelmed by his unexpected discovery and what it might mean. Things don't come through the Door without a connection to someone here. Is Ephemera here, then? Is he back? Drake doubts he could see the screen of his phone through the storm right now to check the network, and checking his phone would be an even stupider move than just standing here like an idiot. So he's not doing that, but he is staring dumbstruck at the helmet. If he's here... what could have happened to make him leave it behind? He doesn't even want to think about just how injured Ephemera would have to be to abandon a piece of his armor.

His moment of indecision really only lasts a few seconds, but that's long enough off his game that he loses track of what's where around him, and he can't hear much over the storm. An unfortunate combination of factors that leads to one of the ogres getting in close to take a mighty swing at him, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying into the wall of the colosseum.

Luckily, the storm also means that it'll be hard to see his brief shift into full-on zombie mode, which he shakes off quickly. He's fine. He has to be. He's gotta get back in the game, finish things here, and confirm what's simultaneously now his greatest hope and fear.

It's probably the fiercest he's been in a fight since the Null invasion, and when he finally emerges from the colosseum, rain inefficiently rinsing the blood out of his soaked clothes, it's with the helmet under his arm. He huddles over his phone, trying to shield the screen enough to see, and sure enough... Ephemera's name is there on the list. Drake can feel his own heartbeat, a rare occurrence. He's here. So now the question is where, how hurt is he, and does he remember? Drake is sure as fuck about to find out. He can't send a message in this storm and the clinic seems like a good place to check anyway -- if it's a bust, he'll take shelter for a minute and call from there. Which is how it comes to pass that only a few minutes later Drake is barging into the clinic a dripping, bloodstained mess, raking his wet hair out of his face as he looks around. He hears cursing from one of the exam rooms -- familiar cursing, and rushes that way, leaving puddles in his wake.

Well fuck.

He's gotta keep it together, and so fights back the wave of emotion threatening to knock him over to step forward, holding up the abandoned helmet. ]

...you dropped this.

[ Ephemera looks up, in the middle of applying another strip of medical tape. He's packed the wounds, they should heal just fine. Another batch of scars for the collection, sure, but this time they didn't ruin any of his tattoos. Small favors. You gotta take the good when you get it, though, or else the whole world really starts getting depressing. ]

Hey, you found it.

[ Saves him the trip of having to run back out in the rain and track it down. DiMA dragged his sorry ass back to the clinic, but risking his life for Ephemera's helmet understandably wasn't in the cards. But it's back now, he's more or less fine, and that's the important shit.

His smile fades a little when he looks and really sees the expression on Drake's face. The rain's soaked him, but it hasn't managed to get rid of the blood or the sharp, hopeful look in Drake's eyes. ]

You hurt? C'mere, let me see.

[ Drake shakes his head, coming right up to Ephemera's side now and setting the helmet down with the rest of his armor before reaching for his hand and gripping tight. He's cold and muddy and bloody and soaked through and doesn't seem to care that he's making a damn mess of the clinic floor. Don't make a scene in public, man. ]

It's not my blood, I'll be fine. What ha-- [ No, he probably knows what happened. Knows what Ephemera would have gone home to, knowledge that's haunted him for months. He rephrases. ] Are you going to be okay? Where's Pell?

[ It doesn't look like any of the wounds are in vital spots, and he knows that's none of these are what killed him, but... what if he's still bleeding internally? Ephemera seems awfully calm, considering. Drake's only managing it on the surface, a careful strength borne of years of necessity. With everything that's happened since the other man disappeared, him showing up now... ]

I'm fine, he just -- [ Ephemera waves his hand vaguely. Pell patched him up and then he had other shit to do. He hums to himself, then pulls Drake into him. He's stripped down to his waist and sore and Drake looks like he's been through nine rounds of shit, but Ephemera doesn't care. Wet, bloody, whatever. It feels good just be close. The gods can't fuck this up. Everything else is fair game but not them. ] Hey.

[ Fuck, it's good to hold him. Ephemera bumps their foreheads together gently. ]

Think I blinked home for bit. It sucked.

[ Drake doesn't argue it, doesn't insist on dragging the healer back to double check or pull away to examine the packing himself -- he just goes, holding on just a little too tight. He'll be relieved soon, right now he's still overwhelmed by a half dozen other things and is struggling to sort through them.

It'll be better when they're back home and he can actually let his guard down but for now he'll rest their foreheads together and focus on keeping his breathing steady. ]

Obviously. I was worried I'd never see you again, I-- it was more than a blink, you were gone awhile.

[ Slow breaths. Maybe they shouldn't have this conversation here, but. ]

It sucked a lot.

I--what?

[ Something isn't fitting with this moment. The way Drake holds him, the way he looked coming into the clinic. Ephemera exhales. Squeezes Drake's hand hard. Focus. Work with what you know. ]

Fuck it. I don't care. You're here.

[ He cups Drake's cheek with his free hand, gentle and sure. ]

You're here. Everything else, that can wait.

Yeah, it doesn't matter. [ It does, but not right now. ] You're back.

[ He's back at just the right time, Drake thinks, he was losing his grip a bit. And somehow that tracks: right when he most needs him, Ephemera's there. Just like before. The stretch in between was some kind of cosmic glitch, what he's done in that time can be explained later. ]

Do you have to stay here? To be monitored or whatever? Or can I drag you home...? I kept the apartment, it's on this island.

Goddamn right I am.

[ He stays close, just touching Drake. Holding him. The closeness feels dangerously important, something that has to be maintained or else something will slip. Ephemera breathes. Squeezes Drake's hand again.

They're all right. They're both here. ]

Nah. Pell fixed the worst of it. I'm good.

[ He pauses. ]

Wait. Island? What island?

Then I'm getting you home. Come on, they're gonna need this room.

[ And he wants the privacy, if he's honest. It's still hard to pull away but he manages, reaching instead to help Ephemera get back into his suit and armor. ]

This is a different planet... we moved about a month after you disappeared, the city's spread across four islands here. We're on the west one right now. I'll give you a tour when the storm blows over, okay?

[ It's not hard to get back into his armor, even with the added stiffness of magically healed wounds. He won't die and he's not bleeding anymore, but it aches. Ephemera knows it could be a whole lot worse. He died from this, once. In another world.

Yeah, but not here. Not yet. ]

Yeah. Let's go home.

[ Ephemera offers his hand to Drake once he's done getting his gear back on. Everything but his helmet: that he keeps tucked under his arm. It's better if Drake sees his face now, he thinks. ]

....I missed some shit, huh?

[ Drake takes his hand again, even though it's armored, just to reassure himself that this is real. He jerks his chin at the helmet, though -- it's alright, it's not a long walk and the armor will come right back off once they get inside. ]

I'll catch you up, promise. You might wanna put your helmet on to get through the storm, it's even worse than it was this morning.

[ He manages a tiny smile, then, squeezing enough to be felt through the armored glove. ]

Kind of a good excuse not to leave home for awhile, actually.

[ Ephemera nods. The storm is pretty bad and his HUD has all sorts of tricks to help him see. GPS, motion tracking, the works. It's unlikely anything will attack them this close to the city - or at least part of the city - but he wants to be sure. ]

Has it been like this for a while?

[ He pulls his helmet on, letting his HUD scan the area. No movement so far. ]

A few days.

[ With his free hand he points through the rain at a spire in the distance, shouting to be heard over the wind. ]

That's ours. Everything's moved around, but you'll catch on.

[ Drake doesn't seem worried about being attacked on the way home, knowing most of this month's monsters have already being dispatched. Because he helped with that. If any escaped before he arrived, they're nowhere to be seen right now and they make it to the spire uneventfully. The only challenge to face is the stairs, all eight flights, but when they get up to the apartment they used to share Ephemera will see it's largely unchanged.

It's much tidier -- the painting supplies and dropcloths long since tucked away -- but all the murals are just as they were. Ephemera's sketchbooks are in a neat stack now, on one of the end tables in the living room as if they're frequently flipped through. Drake's reaper window boxes are on the floor by the windows to protect them from the storm.

He closes the door and leans down to get out of his boots before going to dry off. ]

I didn't want to move... held on to your clothes, too.

[ The trip up the stairs is largely silent. The weather rages on outside, making Ephemera wonder exactly how long the storm has been battering Hadriel and how, exactly, the city has managed to be split into islands when previously it was a single whole. It should be impossible but isn't, in this place.

The questions slip away when they get inside. Ephemera removes his helmet slowly, turning in a circle to scan the apartment. It's the window boxes that catch his attention first and he knees down for a better look, pulling off a gauntlet so he can touch one.

He swallows hard. Looks back to Drake. ]

How long have I been gone?

[ The plants are grown and fruiting, tiny bright red peppers sprouting off the vine. Drake gets his second boot off and grimaces at the puddle under him, wanting to go for a towel at least but... then Ephemera asks how long it's been and he just shifts his weight instead, jaw working. ]

A hundred and thirty eight days.

[ He seems certain, just knows off the top of his head. ]

[ Ephemera touches the peppers with his finger, gently as he can. They talked about growing peppers, once. And now it's happening. Drake did that. Got the plants together and took care of them enough that they're starting to grow for real. Ephemera wants to get his sketchbook and draw it out, maybe grab some paints and try to get the colors down. But like before, that thought fades, replaced by something far closer to the surface.

He asks a question. Drake answers.

Ephemera bows his head, rubbing his hand over his good eye. ]

I don't remember.

[ It's said quietly. He ought to remember being gone. ]

I'm. I'm sorry.

[ Okay, fuck the puddle, Drake crosses the living room still dripping -- he'll mop later, this is more important. ]

No. Don't, please. Nobody can control leaving and nobody remembers, it's not your fault.

[ But it seems like exactly what he was afraid of is what happened. Ephemera didn't remember. Not this place, not him, not making nice with Wash. He went back and was just Sharkface again, didn't stop the fight like they'd planned, and... fuck. His voice shakes a little when he speaks again, sounding less steady than Ephemera's ever heard him. But he's gone 138 days without ever completely letting his guard down, and it's worn him thin and raw. ]

You remember now. Right?

[ Ephemera rises uneasily, rubbing at his eye, and reaching for Drake all at once. It's uncoordinated, clumsy, but he just wants to fucking touch him. Hold him. Ephemera puts his hand on Drake's arm, gentle as he can. Have to be careful of the armor, Ephemera thinks. Have to be careful. Drake's stronger than most but he's not invulnerable. He can still hurt. Is hurting, currently. ]

I remember.

[ It's said firmly. There's no question about that. There never was. ]

What'd you need?

[ Ephemera desperately wants to make this better, somehow. Make it right. He's not certain that's possible, but he wants badly to try. ]

[ What did he need? His best friend, he thinks. His partner. But this place had taken him, and then it kept taking, and he didn't think he'd get it back and now he's just feeling wrung out. Overwhelmed by being hopeful and scared and relieved and happy all at once. It'll be okay, he just has to take it one question at a time. ]

Someone I could trust, I guess? Lup always stuck with me. Nick came through every time. I think I dumped on Lance, at first, before trying to dial that back. Tucker got it. I didn't... I wasn't alone, and that was usually enough.

[ Ephemera was alone, though. That wasn't the plan. But they're not talking about that because neither of them are going to go back to that. They'll find another way, the door pieces are getting collected and they'll figure it out. This won't happen again, it can't.

What does he need now? This, basically. Ephemera's grip on his arm and voice in his ears instead of his head. He breathes out, tries to smile but that's shaky, too. ]

Get all this off, man, I'll dry off and grab you some clothes. Then we can just... sit for a minute, before I tell anybody. I want you to myself for a minute.

[ Ephemera closes his good eye, trying to control his breathing. Just be calm, be steady. It feels awful and wrong that this happened to Drake and Ephemera didn't even know. But there's no point in getting stuck on that. It's over, done with, and this is now. Focus on the now, Ephemera reminds himself. And breathe. Just breathe. Count on the exhale. There you go.

Breathe. ]

Okay. I can do that.

[ One thing at a time. But first...

Ephemera swallows, then reaches out to cup Drake's face in his hands. ]

Can I kiss you? Please?

[ He didn't want Ephemera to feel bad about any of this, because it really wasn't his fault, but the fact is... yeah, he's been struggling. And it's horrible to know what Ephemera went back to, that everything they were trying to prevent happened anyway. Does this count as a third chance? Maybe.

He's turning to go get them towels and dry clothes when Ephemera reaches for him, and the armored gloves are cold on his face. He goes still, remembering. Nods slightly, and realizes after a moment that he's holding his breath. ]

Yeah. You always can.

[ He should have done that already, honestly, he's just.... very overwhelmed, and still trying to hold his shit together. At least for the moment. ]

[ Ephemera feels his shoulders drop. It's okay. He can do this, at least. ]

Thank you.

[ He tips his head and kisses Drake softly, and with great care. ]

[ That'll never not strike him as weird, when Ephemera thanks him for things that he wanted anyway. Like it's some favor, when it isn't, but he doesn't have the time or even really desire to call it out. Or to lighten the mood with a wry 'you're welcome?' Because then he's being kissed, and it's not like he even really had a dry spell the past few months, but it's different. It's more.

It drags on, gentle and warm and real, and when it breaks he takes another shuddering breath, feeling himself uncoil just a little. ]

...I missed you so much.

[ I can tell, Ephemera thinks. He doesn't say it, touching Drake's face carefully. ]

I'm here now. I've got your back.

[ Apparently, that was pretty close to the perfect thing to say. The tension in Drake's shoulders eases a little more and he smiles. It's not quite as broad and easy as it used to be, but they'll get there. ]

Never doubted that. You always have. But I'm freezing, come on.

[ He can't actually duct tape the other man to his side for reassurance, they've gotta function, but he'll indulge himself a little longer and snag Ephemera's hand as he pulls away to drag him to change. Dry clothes, he wants them, let's go. ]

clinic!!!

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