hadriel_logs | Intro Log: Eat Your Veggies

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Intro Log: Eat Your Veggies

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for January
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: January 10th-16th
Warnings: Luscious greenery and confused newbies

As has become tradition within the good (well, okay) city of Hadriel, new arrivals will awake on the floor of the half-destroyed colosseum. Confused and disoriented, you may be wondering where you are and what you're doing there. Don't worry! Someone will probably tell you sooner or later, as long as you get out of the colosseum alive.

Oh, right. About that. Along with the poor, innocent, vulnerable new arrivals are a number of other new friends! Well, maybe less 'friends' than 'horrifying monsters', but are you really going to be picky? Wandering the arena are Shambling Mounds. These creatures are large, unattractive piles of vaguely humanoid-shaped vegetation. They hit hard, they can take a lot of damage, and if you're really unlucky they might manage to engulf you with their weird plant bodies. If that happens, you'd better try to get free fast - otherwise they'll just walk off with you stuck inside and kill you later at their leisure.

The Door appears to have cast a wide net for 'plant monsters', and while Shambling Mounds are the only ones that can actually hurt you, it's managed to pull in a number of smaller, less dangerous carnivorous plants. Some of them are even kind of cute! So if you were looking for a pet venus flytrap or a new pitcher plant, you're in luck. Scattered around the colosseum are carnivorous potted plants, just waiting to find a new home.

Make a new plant friend, or get eaten by one, or run screaming! Whatever you choose to do, once you find your way out of the colosseum there's plenty of other distractions. Feel free to go 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 January 10th-16th.
► 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!

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[Debriefing. He knows the proper language. In a better situation, Maketh might have allowed herself to relax.

In this one, she has a job to do.]

They're hungry.

[She doesn't smile. He's slow and injured. Easy prey.]

This way, sir. If you will.

Hungry for the bones of an old codger? They won't find much meat here.

[Regis grumbles once the soldier takes the lead.

He follows her shakily before finally finding his stride. The king uses his sword as a makeshift cane for now. While he's normally one to try to match someone's pace, Regis honestly cannot in his dismal state. That's why he feels the need to apologize for being so damn slow.]

Is it too forward of me to ask your name, soldier?

[Maketh twitches a little, thinking of the gods and why they might have brought this man here. Into this mess, their nightmare world. What it means. If it means anything. The gods like to claim they have no control over the Door, but that never does stop it from aiding their cause.

It doesn't matter. Do your duty, soldier. Protect this man like you have sworn to do.]

Maketh Tua.

[She keeps a sharp eye on their surroundings. Thus far she sees no enemies, no monsters lurking in the dark - or indeed any of her guardsmen that might be of help - but that means nothing. These things have a way of changing quickly.]

Guardswoman.

[She jerks her head.]

We're almost there.

[The Gods have their reasons for such a travesty but Regis isn't concerned, yet. He's more concerned about his safety and the well-being of his son over anything else. Eventually, he'll turn his bitterness towards the deities in the end.

Right now, he really needs to see a chirurgeon badly.]

Maketh Tua? [That's a rather unusual name but not all that odd.] Without my lengthy titles and honors, I'm simply Regis Lucis Caelum.

[He's not about to state his full royal name here.]

Excellent! You have my humblest apologies for putting you through such an ordeal.

[Regis tries to pick up the pace a bit more.]

[But he does have titles. Hmm. She glances at him sharply.]

You're military?

[He knows the right words, but doesn't move like an Imperial would. Doesn't have that sharp, barbed tone. Perhaps a politician, then. Or from a world that simply works differently than hers did. Very few worlds, she's found, have anything like the Empire.]

You needn't apologize. It is my duty to protect the people here.

No, not quite. Let me introduce myself once more.

[Here he was trying to avoid using titles. It seems he sparked the soldier's interest him accidentally. Regis gives the military officer a slight smile before deciding to give his full name, fancy titles and all.]

My name's Regis Lucis Caelum the One-Hundred Thirteenth, King of Lucis and the Guardian of the Crystal. [A dry chuckle escapes him.] Or at least I was prior to my untimely...death.

[An uncomfortable silence clings to Regis briefly as he thinks about the manner in which he died. He has yet to come to terms with his death but what's done is done.

Eventually, the king finds his voice again.]

In any case, I appreciate your diligence and sense of duty. I can imagine life within Hadriel is quite perilous.

[The proclamation does not, perhaps, have exactly the desired effect.

Maketh stops dead, holding herself very still. A king. Someone used to giving orders, likely born to power. Likely died to that very same power. She's known kings. Said polite things to their graves. Once, not so long ago, she served an Emperor.]

You are correct in that.

[She doesn't look at him, face studiously blank.]

Though you'll find few care for such titles here. As you say. Life is perilous. We have other concerns.

[She jerks her head towards the clinic again. They're almost at the doorstep.]

Inside, sir.

[Well, Maketh isn't entirely wrong on some of her assessment. Regis is undoubtedly used to calling the shots. He's a king after all. Not only that but he's a royal hailing from an absurdly long line of kings and queens. The 113th of his name? ~~Holy fu--~~

There's a certain level of hubris that comes with hailing from the Luis Caelum name but Regis does well enough to tone it down. So he thinks. Nevertheless, Regis does notice a slight change in the soldiers posture and he can't help but chuckle mentally. Yes, he's quite aware of how horribly pretentious and lofty his currently meaningless titles are. This is why most will simply know him by his given name only.

Though if anyone is well versed in Latin, they'll quickly realize his name means 'king' anyway. There's just no getting over that absurd as hell name.]

That I'm quite aware considering the warm greeting I received earlier. [Those fiends almost ate his kingly ass alive.] I don't plan on wearing my titles here, not when I have a son to look after.

[He gives Maketh a slight nod before entering the clinic. It feels good already to be off the damned streets.]

[So he has a child here as well. Family. Someone of his same line who likely knows a certain amount of power. Probably even some of the same abilities that Regis displayed earlier.

Wonderful. More unknown elements. Maketh hates surprises.

She moves to stand by the door. Keeping guard. Just in case.]

You have family here? My apologies.

[This is not a place anyone wants their loved ones to be stuck.]

Apologies?

[The weary king turns to Maketh briefly and shakes his head.] There's no need for apologies. I'm quite fortunate to see my dear son again.

[A pitiful sigh escapes him once he finds someplace to sit. He needs to rest lest he wishes to cause further injury. Regis is a strong man but his strength has limits.]

I never thought I would ever see Noctis again.

[He doesn't understand the truth of this place. Maketh rocks back on her heels. It will be a harsh education.]

You may not think so when you see more of this place.

[But what does she know? Maketh has no family left. Only what she's made here.

She hangs her rifle up with a sigh and moves to stand by Regis. She can't see any of the clinic staff nearby and someone needs to deal with this. Thus, she will.]

Where are you injured?

[He turns to stare at the guard with look of muted surprise. Those bright green eyes turn dark with worry. As much he would hope for peace, Regis knows he'll get none.

While the colossuem earlier proved that Hadriel is no paradise, Regis hoped this place to be a momentary reprieve from death. All that Regis wants is to spend time with his son while he can. Even though the hour of his death is still fresh within his mind, it honestly feels like it's been years since he last seen Noctis.]

Then let us hope that our time here in Hadriel isn't so perilous.

[He clasps his hands together as if to say a silent prayer until Maketh turns to him once more.]

Ah? [The question caught him off guard.] My right leg, across the knee and deeper into the lower thigh. I've had joint pains for decades now but the added gash is a wound I gained here.

[Maketh thins her mouth, fighting the urge to crush his naivety. The situation is not kind. But who is she to deny anyone a moment of hope? He'll see the truth of things soon enough.] Show me. It ought to be cleaned.

[It serves no one to deal with infection here.]

[A surprised hum escapes Regis once the soldier suddenly volunteers to aid him. He gives the woman a somewhat awkward glance before nodding in compliance.

Despite knowing how to treat minor scrapes and gashes, it's far more difficult for Regis to take care of his injuries than it is to aid others. Something about having to touch his own blood makes him a tad squeamish despite seeming so fearless in the eyes of others. Regis is human. He doesn't like the scent of blood an dislikes it even more when it's his.]

It's far worse than it seems. [The king warns as he slowly unwraps the stained bandages. They're red with his blood and slightly soiled from dirt. The wound that lies underneath is a deep one that cuts beneath the pale toned flesh gruesomely. It looks red and puffy with thin trickles of crimson sliding down his leg and onto the torn fabric of his dark slacks. As one would expect, it's a terrible wound but at least there's no bone showing.

Regis will need stitches.]

Believe me when I say I suffered worse but this is...rather bad.

Edited (Sorry for the late tag!) 2017-01-16 06:18 (UTC)

[Maketh grimaces, not bothering to hide her reaction. It's a bad wound, not deep enough to show bone but already dirty and red with irritation. At least it hasn't started smelling. They might be in trouble then.

It would be far better for one of their healers to deal with this, but none are in attendance. Probably out helping newcomers on their own.

Which just leaves her.

Maketh closes her eyes and counts to five. Then she opens them again.]

It needs to be cleaned and stitched. We have medics, but I will need to call one of them back here. You can wait, or I can do it now. Choose.

[Despite the options given, Regis knows he doesn't have much of an choice. He much rather keep his leg, thank you. He endured far too much to suffer losing a limb.]

You've managed to bring me to safety and haven't turned your rifle against me yet. Therefore, I feel inclined to trust you.

[He's taking a big risk by trusting her but Regis needs help sooner than later. Here's hoping that Maketh knows what she's doing. Regis can probably guide her through most of it.]

[Maketh raises an eyebrow.] A bold choice.

[Especially for a king. Nonetheless, she has a duty to perform and won't let him come to harm under her watch.

She stands abruptly and goes to get the required supplies, returning with rubbing alcohol, bandages, suture thread, and needle. It's all horribly primitive. What she wouldn't give for some bacta gel...

Well, there's none. She'll adapt.

Maketh waves the alcohol at him.]

This is going to hurt. Try not to move.

[That's all the warning he gets before she moves in.]

[Bold but a wise choice in his honest opinion. Regis rather not lose a limb. The clinic itself looks a little too dingy for his liking and there's not a single staff personnel around. It's honestly a tad worrisome.

Regis almost cringes once he sees the alcohol. While peroxide and saline both sting quite a bit, rubbing alcohol always hurts the worst. He certainly knows that from past experience.]

That shall do--[The king does well to silence the near gasp that escapes him once Maketh not at all gently adds a few droplets of alcohol to the wound. Regis bites his bottom lip and tries his damnest not to focus on the horrific pain. Easier said than done but Regis certainly knows quite a bit about how to handle pain.

He's been in agony for most of his life all thanks to the Crystal. This is nothing compared to the strain it causes him.]

Edited 2017-01-17 16:53 (UTC)

[Maketh thins her mouth and bites down the insults she nearly spits at him. It's a bad habit, one she learned at the Academy and has since been rethinking. Pain is inevitable, but to show it on your face is an unforgivable weakness. Thus it must be mocked mercilessly until the target learns better. Suffer quietly. Plot your revenge for later.

There's no place for that here. She's no longer an Imperial. Regis, despite his title, has done nothing to earn her suspicion.

Besides, he managed to walk under his own power despite the wound. That deserves some respect.

It would just be easier if he weren't a thing, Maketh thinks - perhaps foolishly. She shakes the thought away.]

As I said, we have medics. Healers as well. [She speaks as she continues cleaning the wound, merciless and effective in her motions. It's important that no one thinks their operation is ineffective or sloppy.] They'll be able to help you more than I can. They often go into the field when we get newcomers like this. Not everyone manages to get away under their own power.

[The way she handles him is like one would handle meat. There's nothing remotely gentle about Maketh and he makes it a mental note to never be placed in a similar situation like this again. This must be some form of divine punishment for suddenly escaping Death's eternal embrace.

There's no possible way that Maketh honestly means no harm by roughly tearing at his injury at this with alcohol and needle. Even in the past when he had to be stitched up by Cor, Regis didn't experience much pain. Maybe the gash upon his leg got infected. Perhaps. That seems to be the case.

Nevertheless, he braves it with minimal reaction. This bloody hurts like a female mutt but he won't admit it. He just won't. Regis has his pride. He's a king. He can handle this.

'Ye god, woman!' The thought is followed by a mental growl as Maketh continues her brand of torture. She's definitely trying to kill him. He's certain of it at this point.]

Is that so? [He answers stiffly.] Then I certainly hope that all those trapped within the coliseum are promptly healed and rescued. I deem myself as fortunate to leave the coliseum with my life.

You should.

[The wound is as clean as she can make it. The redness says that dirt got in and irritated the flesh, the early signs of infection. There's no pus or ugly smell, though. Small favors. Maketh sets the alcohol aside and begins stitching the wound up. Regis is lucky she remembers her survival training, though no doubt he'd rather a medic was wielding the needle.

Well, he'll live. Probably.]

Though should you die, and you likely will in time, the gods will bring you back. Not without pain, of course.

[She doesn't smile, and ties off another suture.]

We're not useful if we're dead.

[Ignoring the pain for now, Regis focuses on Maketh's comment regarding the Gods.]

While I'm eternally grateful to taste the sweet ambrosia of life once more, I am deeply concerned about the Gods' lack of respect to the sanctity of life. [He's being honest here. Maketh paints a poor picture of these deities and Regis already has a low enough opinion after being used as a mock sacrifice along with the rest of his kingdom. His death was necessary but the even so, Regis has a right to show some remorse.

So many people died in the end, too many.]

What do the Gods of Hadriel want of us?

[Maketh snorts, darkly amused. So he's like her, dead in an old life and now stuck here. There's no way to know whether it's a cruel irony or just another twist of fate.] They'll be very put out if you say that to them. They like to think they're kind.

[Her opinion of that is not subtle.]

It's quite simple. They feed off human emotion. And they're hungry.

[It's clear Maketh has no love for these deities and judging from what he witnessed at the coliseum, Regis can sympathize.]

Their cruelty will be paid tenfold if they believe themselves to be infallible. Us mortals are not their playthings. [He says sternly with a hint of fire within his words. The King of Light isn't amused.]

Their time of reckoning might be upon them. We shall see.

Edited 2017-01-17 18:11 (UTC)

[If he's being truthful, then Maketh may have found herself an ally. One who understands the machinations of politics and playing to crowds. Interesting. She thins her mouth and finishes her sutures, leaning back to examine her work.

Hmm. Acceptable.]

Perhaps. We have made moves against them in the past. Thus far, our efforts have proven ineffective.

[She leans back, watching him.]

Of course, you may grant our men something we've been lacking. I do not know. I am only a guardswoman.

[It's true to a certain extent. She's a guardswoman now, but once--that was a different story all together.]

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Intro Log: Eat Your Veggies

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