I don't expect you to feel better. Or grateful. Not in hours, or days. [She returns to cleaning him up, steadier now.] Things like this don't shake off with nice words, no matter how well intended. Especially not fresh out the gate.
They call this sort of thing "preaching to the choir", or so I hear.
[ Nothing new he's heard, always the same. His suffering is both of old but fresh, things from years ago overlaying atop the ones barely months old. From a polished rock back to something you'd find in the dirt -- where he'd always been from, in the end. ]
[hjdjgdgjd Maybe they're too scared to call him out, he's already at his limit.
The name doesn't just silence him. Camille's eyes trace the lines of those scratches. Fingernails? Or a more monstrous take on them?
She hasn't forgotten the stitched up corpse.]
Hold still.
[She's gentle as she starts. If he reaches for her or flinches she'll hold. Wait for the go ahead. The rebuke. It has to be done though, sooner rather than later.]
[ He just. Doesn't really respond to it, is the thing. Turning that ring over in his hand one more time. The scratches are savage but human, and in particular, a bit gnarly right around his empty eye. ]
[The eye — not freshly gone, but freshly agitated for sure. She brushes the hair out of the way, dabs softly. Her stomach does a flip but her expression stays cool.]
She really did a number on you. Was she made up like a demon?
[Her very special talent of putting her foot in it, reserved just for him.
Then after a beat without further rebuke, she returns to the last of the scratches.]
Geto told me I'd shown up in his little adventure. Except as a zombie. A violent one.
[Seemed to be the common theme. One best left to rest, maybe.
She drops the dirtied cloth down with the old finger bandages. She pastes the smaller of the new set over the worst rakes down his face, and frowns at that gaping socket.]
[ But she was Elise, and that seems to be all he really cares about despite anything else. He seems weirdly at peace.
He just reaches for some bandages himself. ]
I'll do it.
[ Well it won't be an eyepatch but. It'll be a bandage over the head. This icon isn't what his expression looks like but more what the bandages would look like. Do you know this is a canon design. This is past flashback sprite that the creator revealed for a future update expansion. Shaking crying throwing up. Anyway didn't think I'd end up serving this look here in this mg but here we are. ]
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Don't say things you don't mean.
[She isn't chiding or harsh. Just flat. Matching him.]
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At that rate, I'm afraid the only answer I can give you is nothing at all.
What's a man to do with options like those, hm?
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[When one door closes and all that.]
I don't expect you to feel better. Or grateful. Not in hours, or days. [She returns to cleaning him up, steadier now.] Things like this don't shake off with nice words, no matter how well intended. Especially not fresh out the gate.
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[ Nothing new he's heard, always the same. His suffering is both of old but fresh, things from years ago overlaying atop the ones barely months old. From a polished rock back to something you'd find in the dirt -- where he'd always been from, in the end. ]
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[He's not wrong though.
She moves to the front of him, soaking a new cloth from the bottle.]
Is it all right if I help with your face?
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...
[ He goes quiet again at the mention of his face. There's a heavy thought of Elise...
Well it's not an outright refusal but do with that what you will. ]
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The name doesn't just silence him. Camille's eyes trace the lines of those scratches. Fingernails? Or a more monstrous take on them?
She hasn't forgotten the stitched up corpse.]
Hold still.
[She's gentle as she starts. If he reaches for her or flinches she'll hold. Wait for the go ahead. The rebuke. It has to be done though, sooner rather than later.]
...Were these from her?
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Yeah.
[ He just. Doesn't really respond to it, is the thing. Turning that ring over in his hand one more time. The scratches are savage but human, and in particular, a bit gnarly right around his empty eye. ]
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[The eye — not freshly gone, but freshly agitated for sure. She brushes the hair out of the way, dabs softly. Her stomach does a flip but her expression stays cool.]
She really did a number on you. Was she made up like a demon?
[Or was she in stitches again?]
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[ There's a vague aura like a warning, but the blankness takes precedence. ]
She was in the best way I could have remembered her.
[ Albeit you know, trying to kill him but we can't all be winners. ]
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I'm sorry.
[Her very special talent of putting her foot in it, reserved just for him.
Then after a beat without further rebuke, she returns to the last of the scratches.]
Geto told me I'd shown up in his little adventure. Except as a zombie. A violent one.
[Seemed to be the common theme. One best left to rest, maybe.
She drops the dirtied cloth down with the old finger bandages. She pastes the smaller of the new set over the worst rakes down his face, and frowns at that gaping socket.]
...Any pointers on how to improvise an eye patch?
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[ But she was Elise, and that seems to be all he really cares about despite anything else. He seems weirdly at peace.
He just reaches for some bandages himself. ]
I'll do it.
[ Well it won't be an eyepatch but. It'll be a bandage over the head. This icon isn't what his expression looks like but more what the bandages would look like. Do you know this is a canon design. This is past flashback sprite that the creator revealed for a future update expansion. Shaking crying throwing up. Anyway didn't think I'd end up serving this look here in this mg but here we are. ]
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It doesn't sit well with her, the way he eases now, evoking the double of his wife. One who'd tried to mangle him.
But she says nothing. Time and a place. And she's clearly the wrong person to pry.
She watches the work, taking a note of the general method. You never knew what to expect around here.]
Well. You're as good as you're going to get for now. [She glances to the coiled spine set aside. Do I even want to ask?
Camille takes the waste to whatever serves as a bin and washes up. The best she can do has been done.]
You want a drink? Something for your throat? [She dries her hands on fresh towels perfunctorily.] Something stronger?
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[ He tilts his head vaguely towards the spine. ]
Nobody told you? Others came back with strange body parts.
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[Water she will fetch. It's poured and passed off as she shoots him a raised brow.]
No, actually, they didn't.
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Keep bringing back body parts on Thursday.
Someone with a power got insight that they might be parts of a ritual.
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[Okay well, in that case she puts a finger to one ridge, curious.
Yep, that's a bone.]
Are we keeping them all in one place? [She hesitates.] Should we be keeping them?
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Everyone is generally keeping it close to themselves as far as I'm aware.