a weary wanderer caught in space.

[sputnik]

Who: Vasiliy Ardankin m1895 & Konstantin Veshnyakov sputnik
What: Something's wrong, and Kostya comes to Vasya for help.
When: mid-December.
Where: Vasiliy's & Konstantin's homestead on the outskirts of Milton.

Content Warnings: body / parasite horror, illness, emeto, mention of Grotesque Feeding, will mark for others to come.

Comments

[sputnik]

[ Konstantin can never truly forget about his "condition" on a daily basis, even when this place has ensured a certain disconnect between himself and the entity inhabiting his body. But being freed of that mental tether to the thing has been... liberating, in its ways, and its weakened, permanently-larval state here has meant that it's much easier for his thoughts not to be centered wholly on the horror that dwells within him. At least, it's become much easier over time.

It's not uncommon at all now for the creature to sleep unmoving for days on end — almost as though going through mini-hibernation periods. It doesn't even need to feed daily anymore, and it seems to have adapted to the concept of living inside of his body nearly full-term, with months often passing inbetween its little nightly excursions in which it might actually make an exit. It's learned by now that the world around it is perpetually cold and unforgiving in a way different from its natural habitat up in the stars — this world has harsh winds and ice and snow that can be deadly to its vulnerable body. Though it's still curious to explore and to interact directly with Vasiliy from time to time, it seems content to majorly stay inside of its warm, safe nest.

So when he doesn't feel it move at all for a day or so, Konstantin thinks little of it, to begin with. But when he tries to feed it the next day — its usual meal of warmed grouse blood and some chunkier bits swallowed back as fast as he's able, before the taste and feel of it can soak into his tongue — something alarming happens. It hasn't done this since he first tried feeding the thing this way two years ago here, and the learning curve took some very messy attempts.

The creature makes the meal come back up. Fortunately it's into a hand towel he's able to scramble for just in time, shaking palms pressing the cloth to his face as he heaves up everything he'd just swallowed.

...All right. Someone doesn't want to eat right now. It's not typical at all for the alien, but he leaves it be for the next few hours. Vasiliy's out with Lyudmila working for the day (though it feels like night, with winter's perpetual darkness), and Konstantin resumes some household tasks, mildly perturbed by the incident but not dwelling too much on it.

He tries again later, because it's been a few days now since the thing's fed, and surely it needs sustenance. Usually it'd be restless by this point, letting him know it's hungry, bumping around his insides like a writhing snake or spasming with little throbs. But there's nothing, no movement, and Konstantin feels a true prickle of anxiety as he heats another batch of blood and makes another attempt.

Yet again, the mess stays in his stomach for only a few scant minutes before it comes back up.

And he still doesn't feel the thing move.

He doesn't tell Vasiliy. Not yet. He should, but he doesn't want to worry or trouble him, and maybe some part of him is weirdly ashamed of whatever's wrong. The night is a restless one, with Konstantin strangely quiet and solemn, resting beside his partner in bed but hardly sleeping.

The next morning while Vasiliy's bathing off, Konstantin tries again in the kitchen, quickly, swallowing back a much smaller amount of blood this time.

Again it comes up, and this time he does feel the thing move afterwards as he's cleaning his face off, quickly. There's an unexpectedly strong flash of relief to begin with, until he realises that the movement he can detect is... faint, barely a flutter. Barely anything at all.

He's wondered about the creature's life-expectancy before. There were still many unknowns back in his world regarding his tether to it, but at least he knew that it could heal itself. Here.... it's been stripped of that ability. (Does that mean there's an expiration date on it here? Or could it contract some illness, or simply be worn down by the elements?)

He hears Vasiliy coming out from his bath now and swallows against an odd tightness in his throat, a certain fear that flares up faster than he'd expected, leaving him feeling a bit light-headed, strange. He finds himself moving towards his partner, the towel still in hand, stained with fresh blood. Konstantin doesn't mean to say it the way he does, because frightening Vasiliy is the thing he's been trying to avoid the past day or so, but—

—but he's afraid. ]

Vasya. I think— I think something's wrong.