methuselah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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singillatim2024-07-10 05:05 pm
singmod) wrote in singillatim2024-07-10 05:05 pm
Entry tags:
- *event,
- bigby wolf: jelle,
- chloe frazer: tess,
- cornelius hickey: kates,
- francis crozier: gels,
- jason todd: jessi,
- john irving: gabbie,
- kate marsh: cheryl,
- konstantin veshnyakov: jhey,
- levi jordan: cirape,
- louis de pointe du lac: tea,
- randvi: tess,
- snow white: carly,
- svetlana nazarova: kota,
- the doctor: kris,
- thomas jopson: kota,
- william gibson: jelle,
- wynonna earp: lorna
there'll be oats in the water
JULY 2024 EVENT
PROMPT ONE — THE AURORA: REDUX: A storm finally arrives, and with it — Enola extends her hand to help the Interlopers once more, granting them new abilities.
PROMPT TWO — PENSIVE LOOKOUT: With the Forest Talker efforts focused on sabotaging hunting efforts, Interlopers can attempt to explore the Pensive Lookout Tower, where they can uncover secrets from the diary of Sam Bouchard — the former firewatch worker of the summer of 2014.
PROMPT THREE — A PEEK INSIDE: A group of Interlopers get their hands on one of the Forest Talkers in search of answers — and get a little more than they bargained for.
THE AURORA: REDUX
WHEN: Mid-month, for three days.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural/extreme weather; lightning storms; potentially disturbing dreams; dreams of being trapped in ice; dreams of animal death; dreams of the death of loved ones.
July brings warmer weather. The fog has lifted, and the daylight returned — but an odd kind of pressure lingers in the air, the kind that feels similar with oncoming storms but something still feels off about it all. Measurements and readings are erratic, with them often making little sense. It’s hard to predict just what might be coming, but sure enough something is coming.
Hold on a little longer, Enola told you. A storm is coming.
It comes quickly, the gathering of storm clouds. At first, it looks as if a kind of snowstorm is moving in, but there’s something else at play here. Within the grey, cloudy skies, there is a tell-tale sound of an Aurora mixed within those clouds.
And with it, in amongst the dark, the swirling colours. Greens, pinks and purples weaving through the clouds, almost mesmerising to watch. The air is alive with sound: static noise, cracks and pops: a storm and the Aurora mixed into one. For those who’ve been here long enough, it’s a worrying, unnerving sight. The storm rumbles with the low roar of distant thunder, growing ever closer. The electronics of the world begin to come alive, and in the static of it all — you begin to hear Enola’s voice even clearer than before.
After so much darkness, now there is so much light. A lightning storm — aurora colours mingling with the grey clouds, punctured with crackles of lightning. Something powerful and strange — flash forking across the skies, followed by booms of thunder.
The storm lasts three days, and even though her voice is soft — you hear it over all the noise, nestled gently in your ear.
“You're still here. It means something. This isn’t the end, I refuse to let it be the end. It can’t win. You won’t go into the Dark.” Enola tells you. ”I will make you more than what you are, more than what was stolen from you. This place will not be your end. I have to try. We have to try. Together. I showed some of you, once. I’ll show you again.”
She tells you to sleep. For some, they recognise this and realise what may end up happening. For others it feels like going out on a limb. But you sleep, and perhaps a dream may come to you.
COLD FUSION: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of a great hall of ice: as if it had been carved into some great ridge of it. You walk through it, marvelling at the beauty of it — a blue gloom, echoing with each of your footsteps. But as you take one particular step, the ground cracks and collapses beneath you, sending you into dark, frozen waters. In seconds, the water freezes around you, encompassing you in thick ice, your entire body trapped within it. The coldness burns you, and you are stuck there — frozen in agony. The pain is immeasurable, your entire body crushed and searing from the ice. There is no escape, no reprieve.
A voice speaks to you, perhaps it is the voice of a stranger, perhaps it is the voice of someone you know: Do you know how you survive the cold?’ They ask you. You do not know, and you wait for the answer: ‘You become colder than it.
Your eyes close. You believe those words, you do. You must become colder than the cold itself. And so you will. Your breathing slows, your heart slows and the cold… it stops hurting, it doesn’t burn. The ice around you begins the crack.
When you awaken the first thing you realise is despite the temperature, you are completely cosy and warmed. You do not feel the slightest chill. It is perhaps only once you are around other than you truly notice the difference to you — you are cold to the touch, lacking the heat you once had. An understanding comes: you are at one with the cold, it will not beat you, it will not cause you agony. Winter is at peace within you: perfect Cold Fusion.
MOON TOUCHED: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of running through the silent woods at night. The moon is full above you, the air is calm and still. Hunger draws you forward, everything is so sharp and vivid in your senses, even in this dreamscape. You hear the crispness of the snow beneath your feet, smell the scent of the pines on the air, feel how warm you are against the coldness around you.
The snuffling of a rabbit catches your attention, and you swiftly leap after it, jaws opening and closing around its neck as you capture it. You bite down hard, feeling the crunch of its bones as they break, the sweet coppery taste of blood filling your mouth and nose. You lift your head towards the stars, blood on your tongue. You realise you are not a person at all, but a beast on all fours: a wolf, content and filling your belly with meat.
You wonder, for a brief moment: were you ever a person at all?
You do not know the answer to the question. You do not seem to worry about such a thing but there’s a flash of warning on the air. Something you cannot quite place, but you know that you should not forget it.
When you awaken, you feel… different, somehow. Everything seems a little sharper, as if the world around you had been dull, or behind some pane of frosted glass. With it comes a strange balance of calmness and chaos, tameness and wildness, fear and bravery. You find yourself looking for the moon in the skies and when you finally find it, it hits you — this is what it means to be Moon Touched.
INTERLOPER’S SACRIFICE: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape and then fade into nothing. You dream of kneeling in a darkened, charred wood. You are not alone. In this dreamscape, you dream of a loss, or a time you have never felt more helpless in your life. Perhaps it is when someone you knew died before you, or you stood as someone was sick and injured and you were unable to do a thing. As you kneel, they are there with you: sick or dying or even dead in your arms. You cannot do anything but hold them, and the helplessness is overwhelming.
You look up and a woman in furs stands before you, her expression solemn. Enola herself. There are tears in her eyes, as if she shares the very pain you do: the loss, the grief, the hopelessness, the powerlessness. She approaches you and lowers herself to kneel in front of you and your companion, bracing your shoulders for a long, lingering moment. There are no words, none from neither of you.
Enola shifts slightly, leans forwards. She kisses your forehead, much like when a parent kisses their child: sweet and tender.
And then you feel it, as if you are set alight: an agonising pain that encompasses you whole — so painful you cannot even open your mouth to scream. You feel yourself growing weak, the corners of your vision blurring into black. It feels as if you might die from the pain, and you want for it to stop but it doesn’t.
Enola pulls away and you gasp, slumping in exhaustion, but still alive, somehow. You stare at her, sweating and clamouring for breath, and she offers you a sad smile. Never again. you feel the words inside of you. This time, it will be different. Better.
When you awaken, you can still feel the kiss upon your forehead — enough to make your fingers reach up to touch it, your entire body tingling a little. A small voice in the back of your mind whispers, reminding you as you find yourself looking down at your hands: never again. Never again, you tell yourself and the comprehension comes to you: you have chosen. This is what it means to be: this is your sacrifice. The Interloper’s Sacrifice.
NOTHING: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape, but only for a moment. The edges of your vision begin the blur with black, slowly closing in until everything goes dark and you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. You awaken, and although you feel rested, as if the dreamless darkness has helped you feel a little more ready to take on the day — nothing else about you has changed.
PENSIVE LOOKOUT
WHEN: The month of July.
WHERE: Pensive Lookout Tower, Lakeside.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of survival; possible fall injuries/treacherous climbs; themes of terror; themes of diminished sanity; themes of starvation.
The Old Hunting Lodge is located in the southern-most area of Lakeside, and its surrounding area is generally considered no-go territory with the presence of the Forest Talkers. As June turned into July, the Forest Talker’s presence in the wilds of Lakeside has begun to grow again — but their efforts appear to be focused on sabotaging the efforts of Interlopers, Methuselah and Young Bill in hunting fresh game. If anything, it could mean that with attentions drawn away — perhaps the braver sorts of the Interlopers can explore the area a little more fully.
There’s little in terms of buildings of interest in this area. The wilderness is thick and deep here. Perhaps the odd ransacked cabin once belonging to a local may be stumbled across — its contents picked clean, presumably by the Forest Talkers. Many of these buildings will be completely inhabitable due to the damage done — with some cabins being razed to the ground.
However, on higher ground, with a good hike to access it, stands a watch tower.
These lookout towers could mean a number of things: a chance to access supplies that may have otherwise been forgotten about due to the hike to get up there, a better view of the surrounding area, and the possibility of a radio — given the sign of a radio transmitter that can be found blinking a feeble red on Aurora nights.
With the snow on the ground it’s a little more treacherous, but given the circumstances, anything’s worth a shot, right? Those who attempt the hike may fall foul to slips and trips along the steep slow to reach the tower, and should take care in the ascent. Even with the warmth of July, it’s difficult. One might hope this might make the place a decent outpost, if you think about it. Somewhere hard to reach, and with such a vantage point.
Reaching the tower and climbing it to its interior will it largely intact but a mess. Someone has lived here for some time. Interlopers will find no food here, but some useful tools that belonged to the lookout: binoculars, maps, a compass, an alidade. There is even a radio sat upon a desk, and with it — a journal.
The journal, Interlopers will find, belonged to a man named Sam Bouchard — the firewatcher for the season during the previous year, detailing the months of his arrival and ending in November last year. It is unknown what happened to Sam, but his journal will perhaps offer some insight and even some information.
A PEEK INSIDE
WHEN: The month of July.
WHERE: The Gas Station, Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of kidnapping; imprisonment; self-starvation; blood/minor injuries; psychological torment, supernatural abilities.
The Forest Talkers have a long history in the Northern Territories, long before Interlopers started arriving in Milton. Champions of nature, they have sought to put an end to the industries and tourism-related expansions in the Lakeside area, first peacefully and then… not-so-peacefully. But with the events known as the ‘The Flare’ last year, Forest Talkers have been… acting peculiarly, disturbingly, aggressively.
There are plenty of questions to be asked. But the Forest Talkers are difficult to communicate with. Previous attempts have ended up in aggression or being ignored entirely. And now, even with the events of the previous month coming to an end — game remains difficult to find, and Forest Talkers are keen on sabotaging any attempts of hunting made by Interlopers, Young Bill or Methuselah. And more importantly: what is the yawning grave?
It starts as mutterings between tired and disgruntled Interlopers. They need answers, and there’s got to be a way in trying to get some. They’re hungry and exhausted and so many of their numbers are now dead. Those mutterings grow, and soon enough a plan is put into place. A small group of Interlopers embark into Lakeside and wait.
Soon enough, it bears fruit. A man is captured, bound and blindfolded — quietly and secretly brought back to Milton to be held up in the unused Gas Station to be questioned. It is not the leader, but surely one of them is better than no one at all. He is injured, but not enough to kill him. It will prove challenging in trying to get answers out of him, but soon enough the Interlopers will get him to talk.
News of the Forest Talker in their midst will inevitably spread, as most things do in small communities. Secrets are hard to guard. It won’t be just those behind the kidnapping who might end up coming across the man being held in the Gas Station.
Anyone who goes to investigate will find the man sat on the floor in quiet contemplation. Attempts of conversation will be met with long, silent stares — holding your gaze for an uncomfortably long time. He will spurn any gestures of kindness: spit on the floor at Interloper’s feet, refuse any food offered — as if the man has chosen to starve himself in protest. He says nothing, at first.
But after some time, he will look into an Interloper’s eyes and utter something. A word. A phrase. It may be a name, or a place. It may be a specific thing an Interloper has read, or been spoken to by someone. Something that holds meaning to the Interloper. It may be the name of a loved one from home, or the last words ever spoken to you by a friend. Something the man shouldn’t know.
Whatever it is that he speaks to you, it is not something that will fill you with hope or fondness to remember — but quite the opposite. A reminder of something painful, of a loss, or some other thing that caused you misery. As if he had reached right inside your mind and plucked some painful part of your past from you and spoken it to the wind.
The Forest Talker smiles, and will say nothing else. The damage has already been done.
FAQs
1. The next three Aurora Feats are unlocked! Please see the following page for more information.
2. Aurora Feats are completely optional.
3. Interlopers will only receive ONE Aurora Feat. The only time this is available is this month. After July, players will have to wait for the next Feat round for another chance at an Aurora Feat.
4. This Aurora/storm will last a full three days, darkening the skies almost to night.
1. Interlopers who dwell in the lookout for the next Aurora will find the radio works, albeit poorly. They will be able to pick up the same broken morse code message.
2. There are no signs of blood/injury that befell Sam in the lookout. It appears he made good on what he wrote on in his journal and attempted to leave to get to Silverpoint.
1. While only a small number was involved in the kidnapping itself, anyone can discover the fact there's a Forest Talker being held in Milton.
2. In terms of appearance, the Forest Talker is very much your typical average white guy. Bearded, weathered by the cold, someone who's lived several years without much in the way of comforts or luxuries.
no subject
Right. Yes. He does, at least, clue in. He's not so far into his own frenetic mind that he can't pick up on social cues, though admittedly, he's almost certainly always lagging behind most normal people in that regard. But he's not most, of course.
Quick to follow to the back of the library, the urgency in the other man's movements also serves to demonstrate perhaps the Doctor's blithe manner about the whole incident is not only strange but off-putting. He understands, at least, that it wouldn't be a comfortable thing for anyone, to be forced to live with an entity like that. Some species naturally share symbiotic connections with others, some may even choose it. This, though — no, it was clear from the start this is a parasite and host situation. He, of course, wants to know all he can because he thinks he can help. To honor the deep concern, and perhaps paranoia (understandable if so) this man is obviously feeling, the Doctor's voice drops in volume and he leans in a bit so they can't be easily overheard. And he shakes his head, resting his hands lightly on his hips. ]
Not at all, in fact we — well, I can't say with absolute certainty, but I believe we've established something of a rapport. It at least didn't seem to think ill of me, it was curious. It nudged itself under my sleeve to explore a bit. Used to a human body, it was probably intrigued by the differences.
[ He'll be quick to explain this. For him, at least, even if not many people know this about him, the Doctor doesn't have anything to hide about the fact that he's not entirely human. It's simply a fact of his nature. But as quick as he thinks it, the way that the entity might need to be kept more hush makes logical sense to him. ]
You see, I'm not human myself. I'm a Time Lord, more specifically. From Gallifrey. Humans look like Time Lords and vice versa, but Time Lords came first quite long ago. Physiologically speaking, we have many similarities, but notable differences. A venn diagram, of sorts. Namely, I have two hearts where you lot have just the one.
no subject
That the creature might... behave with less hostility to someone isn't entirely new — even before this place, there was evidence that it wasn't simply some mindless killing machine, that it was capable of forming a more benign connection with someone. And then here, it's come out around Vasiliy a few times; according to Konstantin's housemate, the alien hasn't tried to harm him at all, and after a few initial hisses, it seems to be quite at ease around him now, clearly trusting him, no doubt understanding that the other man is responsible for keeping it fed and safe.
But this.. is a complete stranger, not the psychiatrist who was helping him back home, and not the man he lives with now, and to hear that the creature has encountered someone, fully without his knowledge... not only that, but got on well with him??
He blinks widely, an almost comical display of shock on Konstantin's typically calm, assured visage — an expression that only grows more severe as this man continues speaking. Not human himself... Time Lord, he says. A Time Lord, with two hearts — completely at a loss, Konstantin can't help his eyes dropping down right to the man's chest as though he could possibly see any evidence of this through his clothing, and then slowly lift back up.
There was once a time, not so long ago really, that the cosmonaut would have met such claims with the immediate assumption that someone was probably insane, but after this place....? After meeting a man who claims to be a werewolf (and has historically been caught behaving like one), and befriending a boy who is neither dead nor alive and bleeds black, and finding himself inexplicably affected by some overarching supernatural presence.... well.
(There is, of course, the fact he has an entire alien inside of him — although extraterrestrial life was never such an impossible concept for a man of Science and an explorer of the stars. Of course there would be life out there in the universe; it's the idea of werewolves and vampires and things that go bump in the night that have given him trouble here in Milton.)
Konstantin takes a long moment to try and compose himself, adjusting the stiffness of his jaw, the tenseness of his shoulders. He needs to remain calm, or said creature (awful shitty little thing!) will get agitated, might even decide it wants to pop out and see its new apparent friend again. Facts, facts to ground himself with— ]
A Time Lord. Is that... so that's a sort of species? From.... Galli- Galli- [ What had he said? ] That's... a country? A planet?
no subject
Gallifrey — a planet, located in the constellation of Kasterborous at coordinates 10-0-11-0-0 slash 0-2 from Galactic Zero Centre, roughly 250 million light-years away from Earth.
[ There's a brief pause, and there's a flicker of something in the Doctor's eyes — is it sadness? Regret? Guilt? All of the above. Blink and you'll miss it, though, that flash that might not have happened at all. And then he softly adds, with a wistful smile — ]
The Shining World of the Seven Systems.
[ His voice is briefly quieter, but then rises as he goes on to explain more — ]
Time Lord — species, yes. Humanoid. And your — what should we call it? It's not trying to kill you, it needs you, but it's not benevolent either. Friend wouldn't be appropriate for what we've established is essentially a hitchhiker, though it's only doing what it knows to do. It reacts to its environment as well. What happened to you, that — initially created this connection at all?
no subject
'The Shining World of the Seven Systems.'
Konstantin takes a moment to catch his breath in the quiet stillness that falls over them both for a moment, mind racing, even as he stays perpetually mindful to try and control his pulse. He's been trained for this, conditioned — he swallows, resolves himself as he listens. This isn't something he can run from. ]
I was on a mission to space. A research mission — we weren't too far from Earth. We were due to head home, but on the way back.... something found its way into our vessel.
[ His memory of that time is something he's tried to keep behind some careful, intentional wall. If he thinks too much about it, about how it had forced its way down his throat before he could so much as scream, he'll— falter, crumble, feel waves of sick, slick nausea; his fingertips will start moving towards his torso with the uncontrollable instinct to dig in, dig the thing out of him, get it out— ]
...And then into me. [ He pauses, voice still kept low, and glances down at himself for just a moment. ]
I don't know much about it. This happened... very shortly before I arrived here. From what I can understand, it created a sort of bond with my body. Symbiotic. But this place... affects it. It's more like a parasite, here. We're not connected the same way, and so I.... I can't influence it at all. It has its own will.
[ ....A will that apparently involves exiting his body to run around and meet strangers. Konstantin sighs softly, and looks back up into the man's (...alien's) eyes. ....They're kind eyes, he thinks. As unnerving as much of this is, it's difficult to feel too afraid of this entity, at least right now. ]
It's very dangerous... It's fortunate that it didn't try to harm you.
no subject
[ He doesn't entirely mean to make light of it, despite what his easier tone might suggest. It's only that he's had long years dealing with all manner of dangerous things; some were dangerous because they thrived on the harm they could unleash on others. Some were dangerous due to fear alone. He can't speculate at great length without knowing the creature better, its patterns and habits, but the way they interacted suggests to him that it reacts to emotions. Not unlike many species. ]
What a terrible thing to have gone through, though, for you and the creature. But it's — not pleasant at all, to have an entity within you that you can't control, left only to wonder what it may or may not do next.
[ — He "may or may not" be speaking from experience.
Of course, he's so curious about this man, too, his research mission. All that he can possibly know about him. That'll come later. For now, he's more concerned about the entity itself, and Konstantin's well-being.
Bluntly, he queries — ]
Does it scare you?
no subject
It's difficult to truly hate something like that. To not feel some ounce of pity. He knows the creature doesn't thrive on Earth; hell, the atmosphere is so unfavourable to its sensitive body that it requires a host to survive at all. It probably was never meant for such a planet. Becoming bound to him was likely never something it would have wanted, but a necessity in that moment, for whatever reason. And now it's trapped here.
But he doesn't want to think about it like that. To let his thoughts go that way, to let himself feel that pity. He frowns, unable to hide that discomfort from affecting his features as he looks away for a moment. It's only the question that forces him to look back, startled by it. He's never been asked that so directly, and never really looked at that directly, either. .....There's a lot about this that he hasn't allowed himself to touch too closely. ]
It... [ Konstantin falters, finding himself almost frustratingly struggling with a response. It makes him feel stupid, lacking, strange. He lifts a hand to run over his mouth again, giving a soft sound. ]
I suppose I could say that. [ ...It fucking terrifies him, occupies his nightmares, is at the corner of every thought, every sensation, he can never, ever escape his mind from brushing up against the awareness that this thing is there. What it could do. What it could be capable of. ]
There's still so much about it that's unknown, and— [ What if someday it doesn't need him anymore, claws its way out of him? Or changes him, mentally, physically? ] .....and it's disgusting, [ he finds himself admitting suddenly, the word falling from his mouth and leaving him looking almost surprised, like he's said something he didn't mean to. Konstantin stiffens, tries and falters to regain his composure, and finds himself breathing out an exhale instead. ]
....I'm sorry. I don't usually talk about this kind of thing. About... it. But I— I don't know what it might do, someday. To me. To my body. ...It frightens me.
no subject
No apologies needed for my sake, please. [ His tone is gentle, attempting to reassure. He appreciates honesty when it comes, in whatever form it takes. Brutal, gentle, vulnerable. He'd asked the question purposefully to position himself as someone who could be here to listen, to lend support in some way. Guidance, if it comes to it, if he can. ]
Anyone would be scared, and anyone who would try to say otherwise is lying or hiding or denying. [ In his opinion. It's unsaid, but the Doctor is including himself in this. While no entity has lived inside of him to this extent, he's had more than one experience of others getting into his head. One very terrible experience, in fact, when he was quite sure he was likely to die as a result of a creature that had managed to take over his mind; it's terrifying on its own, but especially for someone like the Doctor, who can normally resist most forms of mind control. To this day, he still doesn't know what that creature was. And now there's the Darkwalker to contend with, but — right now he's more concerned with the man in front of him, of course. ]
The more we don't know about anything at all, the more we have nothing but fear left to fill in the gaps. The more we study and learn, the more likely it is the fear will be...manageable. I'm not suggesting that I or anyone here turn you into a test subject, promise. But the more we can learn about its patterns, what provokes it, what calms it, the effects on your body every time it leaves. Unless you have a physician established, of course, in which case just think of me as alien interpreter as much as I can be.
[ A brief smile to accompany that. ]
I want to give you answers, I want you to have the comfort of knowing things for certain, but while we lack that — there's still hope, I think. In all things. In this. There are creatures out there in the big ol' universe that are the most treacherous, most dangerous, and can't be tamed. Some can. There's a wide spectrum in between.
no subject
And yet it's some... relief to confess these rare words aloud. Like a wound lanced to allow something to seep out, a little bit of that tension he's become so used to carrying around with him ebbs, and Konstantin exhales again, staring at this mysterious new stranger so effortlessly offering him empathy.
'Anyone would be scared' — It's.. it's true, isn't it? If this situation were happening to literally anyone else, Konstantin would say the same for their sake. He swallows back against the sudden tightness in his throat, the peculiar sensation of being seen with this level understanding. This.. man (alien) speaking to him now is offering so much to him — even to help him with this. To learn about the creature inhabiting him.
He might ordinarily flinch away from that concept quickly, knowing what it is to be vulnerable in that particular way — to be poked and prodded and examined, but... this is more similar to what Vasiliy's been doing, over time. There's also Svetlana, and Randvi, who's offered to help him try to train the thing.
Having the assistance of someone who literally comes from beyond the stars, someone who's encountered other life-forms... This Doctor could offer immense help. Konstantin pauses, absorbing all of it, tense but not averse. ]
There are a few people here who know about it, who try to help me... manage it. I know a doctor, and an EMT. [ It helps a lot, and in his day-to-day, but their knowledge is also limited to Earth, and their respective time periods.
Maybe he's taking a deadly risk, putting his trust in this mysterious person before him and what he's offering. But.....
Something softens in his eyes, something quiet and desperate. He wants help. All the help he can get. Hell, maybe.... maybe they could even find a way to actually separate the thing from him. Maybe he could get his body back. ]
But I would appreciate.... any insight you have, too. Medical or otherwise. As someone who's lived beyond all of our... limitations, even beyond this planet — there's probably much I could learn from you. But I can't guarantee that it won't be risky. It's possible this creature could try to hurt you if you get closer.
[ He keeps returning to the idea of warning this man. He doesn't want anyone else hurt because of him. ]
no subject
Everyone and everything can and has done bad things and good things, and rarely does that make them all good or all bad. More than once, he's talked down hostile beings who sought to harm and kill; on very bad days, he's been unsuccessful in deterring them and had to do — what he loathes to do. But mercy is his first thought, his second thought, his persistent thought until and unless his mercy is forced to be tested. ]
From the sound of it, your medical care, the health of your body, that is — seems to be in the best of hands.
[ He appreciates the intent of the man's warning, and he understands where that fear must be stemming from, the harm this creature has caused not only him, but others. And the Doctor fully understands that it's capable of killing him. But though no part of him would much like to die here, his life is far less important than the lives of others. That includes the man before him now; it doesn't matter if they've only just met. They needn't have met at all for him to be important to him, that's simply how his mind works.
His arms cross loosely over his chest and he gives him a little nod to acknowledge. Yes, he hears him, and yes, he understands the full implications. ]
But as it pertains to the creature — risky is what I do. I'm old friends with Trouble and Danger, I promise you that. Now I won't take unnecessary risks with your life, but understand that I...well, I have experience. I'll be safe in ways others here might not be.
[ He's not immortal, no, and he assumes because of the way his other abilities have been affected here that the way his body could normally tolerate a great deal of injury in ways that human bodies can't is likely not possible and he's more vulnerable now. He can be killed, he knows that, but his body is also a bit different regardless. ]
We can meet somewhere privately, more regularly, where I could learn more about you and the creature alike. [ He offers a brief, gentle smile, reaching out in an attempt to rest a hand on the other man's shoulder for just a moment. ]
I'm here to help in every way I can.
no subject
Until the crash, the infestation, and then there was Tatiana, and every way he had to come to rely on her for his own life. Then he was here, and there's Vasiliy, the figure Konstantin wholeheartedly relies on to keep himself and his situation stabilised. And there have been others, and now there's— this man. The Doctor.
It's frightening, but at the center of himself, something flutters, and it feels like hope. There's hope that his situation can become... maybe better. Maybe less dangerous. Like Randvi offering to help train the thing. He doesn't have to do this alone. (He can't. He literally can't. The thing renders him unconscious when it leaves his body; he's useless to help when that happens.)
He needs help.
Konstantin looks down for a moment at the hand to his shoulder, and then back up to meet the other man's eyes. 'I'm here to help in every way I can.' He doesn't even know him, and yet he's offering this degree of assistance, possibly at risk to himself.
Konstantin can't help thinking for a moment that those are merits of a Hero, where he's from. ]
Thank you. [ His smile is muted, a little somber, but his gratitude is genuine; perhaps it shows the most in his eyes, warming their inky dark browns to something brighter. ]
I truly do appreciate your offer. I can provide you with more details when we meet — everything I know about it. I even have an X-ray of the thing with me here; I can bring it for you.
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There are no swift answers here, but the Doctor is — as he's said to friends more than once — the eternal optimist, the one who believes there's always hope. ]
Oh, now that's handy. Good! Anything you have will help. Do try to take care and I'll see you again in a few weeks' time, shall we say? At your place. Just tell me where to find you.
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[ Konstantin gives a little chuckle; he's become so used to it, but saying it aloud to someone else is a reminder of how different his life here is. To think that he lives in such a place now, that he keeps animals, playing farmer as well as he can. ]
My housemate found a dog awhile back, and he's still a bit cagey, so he'll probably bark at you when you come up. He's mostly anxious, not dangerous.
[ He wants to warn the other of that much, just so he isn't caught off-guard. ]
You're welcome to come any time. And I'll repay you for your help however I can, of course.