Either way, we're not alone

[gildedlife]

Who: James Fitzjames, OTA
What: Exploring, and also finding some friends (early Sept catchall)
When: First few days after arriving
Where: Around Milton!

Content Warnings: The Terror-typical themes of death, illness, and general Bad Times, but anything specific will be added as it comes up!


For the first two days or so, James doesn't really leave the house he's taken up (temporary?) shelter in. Instead, he spends most of the time sleeping, occasionally waking up to make some rosehip tea and wage the mental battle necessary to drink it, then falling back asleep and repeating the cycle.

But although any sort of true recovery will take far longer than a few days, by the third day of being in this new place he feels much better than he had when he'd arrived, and even if that was an incredibly low bar to clear it's still more than enough to be encouraging. This isn't some sort of strange dream or dying hallucination. He's really here, somehow, and--for once in so many months now--he's getting better, not worse.

He might actually live. But this time, unlike his many other close brushes with death, he finds he isn't entirely sure what to do with the knowledge of that possibility.

He also has zero desire to contemplate that fact or any of its implications, but unfortunately, the downside of feeling better is that he's now capable of overthinking things again. And the only way to avoid doing that is through distraction, so it's only reasonable that he decides to go exploring.

Comments

[gildedlife]

It sounds so simple and almost too good to be true; if it were anyone other than Goodsir, James might've been skeptical of the claim. But he'll believe it from him, and try to let himself be reassured by the thought that there is something that can be done; the wounds themselves are painful but the bleeding is slow, and with the scurvy being treated, infection poses the largest threat. If it can be treated not just by usual methods but by medication, then that's incredibly encouraging.

"That is good to hear." James doesn't bother hiding the relief in his tone, one very deep fear beginning to lessen, if just a little. "When I awoke here, the infection that had set in was gone, but if I notice any symptoms of a return, I will inform you."

And oh, right, the wounds need to be dressed too, which he belatedly remembers and begins to unbutton his greatcoat. He's only wearing a single layer underneath, and the shirt is stained with both old and new blood, though it looks somewhat worse than it currently is.