Ode to a Willow (CA - Willowman)
Quote from Adriana on July 17, 2020, 9:06 pmA roleplay taking place some time after "Afterthought". Silas has delivered Willowman to an undisclosed location where he receives medical care from a small staff, namely Amelia.
The roleplay spans over several weeks, as it occurs isolated from the world around it.
Sidenote 1: Originally there was mention of Amelia being Bianca's mother - this theory has been scrapped at present.
Sidenote 2: There's a good chance that this facility is in a building in Pinerich, but this hasn't been confirmed presently.
Beep... beep.... beep..... beep...
"What kind of chance do you think he has..?" a dusty voice exhaled.
"A fair one.. physically. Once he gets some fluids and nutrition. To know what we're really up against I have to wait until the blood tests come back." a honey voice responded.
"That's not accounting for the rest of him, anyway.." a sigh.
"... Right. Not accounting for any drugs or, you know-sleep deprivation, isolation, trauma.. bodies heal, but even healthy bodies can have hurt minds." the other replied softly. "You look... a little worse than usual."
Silas wasn't going to argue. He just stared distantly into the dim room, lit only by the heart monitors. He wore a jacket just over his shoulders, his torso still bare, his feet the same-the dress pants were tattered up to the knees and his wavy locks were scattered over his brow. He leaned forward more in the chair and swiveled his head to see the pale, shrunken figure in the bed, tubes in about every orifice. The dark haired woman across from him looked on, brushing back long thick waves with a hand, her legs crossed and green eyes following his gaze to the bed.
"I'll watch him. Go home."
A roleplay taking place some time after "Afterthought". Silas has delivered Willowman to an undisclosed location where he receives medical care from a small staff, namely Amelia.
The roleplay spans over several weeks, as it occurs isolated from the world around it.
Sidenote 1: Originally there was mention of Amelia being Bianca's mother - this theory has been scrapped at present.
Sidenote 2: There's a good chance that this facility is in a building in Pinerich, but this hasn't been confirmed presently.
Beep... beep.... beep..... beep...
"What kind of chance do you think he has..?" a dusty voice exhaled.
"A fair one.. physically. Once he gets some fluids and nutrition. To know what we're really up against I have to wait until the blood tests come back." a honey voice responded.
"That's not accounting for the rest of him, anyway.." a sigh.
"... Right. Not accounting for any drugs or, you know-sleep deprivation, isolation, trauma.. bodies heal, but even healthy bodies can have hurt minds." the other replied softly. "You look... a little worse than usual."
Silas wasn't going to argue. He just stared distantly into the dim room, lit only by the heart monitors. He wore a jacket just over his shoulders, his torso still bare, his feet the same-the dress pants were tattered up to the knees and his wavy locks were scattered over his brow. He leaned forward more in the chair and swiveled his head to see the pale, shrunken figure in the bed, tubes in about every orifice. The dark haired woman across from him looked on, brushing back long thick waves with a hand, her legs crossed and green eyes following his gaze to the bed.
"I'll watch him. Go home."
Quote from Adriana on July 25, 2020, 7:57 pm-- -- --
A few days passed. Willowman was spared no measure of care; he was intubated for nutrition, a fluid IV was fixed to his arm, his grooming was carefully tended to. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, but at least to one person, he seemed less of a skeleton.
His nurse was a tall woman with black hair below her shoulders. It was thick and wavy. Her arms were strong but slender, and in every aspect she was nearly flawless, save for a long scar stretching from above her right brow to the dimple in her cheek. She couldn't have been older than forty, perhaps in her mid thirties.
The room wasn't that of a standard hospital although it had the equipment, but rather a comfortable and clean room, moderately fashioned in shades of navy and lighter blues. The lights were kept dim, but each day they were gradually made brighter to imitate more natural light. Some days an eye cover and UV light were placed over the man so he could receive some artificial help from the sun. The room lacked windows and had only one door.
She leaned back in the cushioned chair by the bedside, setting a book in her lap. "Well, that was a bust." she smiled to the man in the bed after she had finished reading. "Maybe we'll watch a movie next time. Stick with the classics. Something cute and animated like my son liked to watch." she stood and observed his face, curious and contemplative. "Do you have any sons, daughters?" she asked, knowing he couldn't answer. Nonetheless she took his hand and gave it a little squeeze.
-- -- --
A few days passed. Willowman was spared no measure of care; he was intubated for nutrition, a fluid IV was fixed to his arm, his grooming was carefully tended to. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, but at least to one person, he seemed less of a skeleton.
His nurse was a tall woman with black hair below her shoulders. It was thick and wavy. Her arms were strong but slender, and in every aspect she was nearly flawless, save for a long scar stretching from above her right brow to the dimple in her cheek. She couldn't have been older than forty, perhaps in her mid thirties.
The room wasn't that of a standard hospital although it had the equipment, but rather a comfortable and clean room, moderately fashioned in shades of navy and lighter blues. The lights were kept dim, but each day they were gradually made brighter to imitate more natural light. Some days an eye cover and UV light were placed over the man so he could receive some artificial help from the sun. The room lacked windows and had only one door.
She leaned back in the cushioned chair by the bedside, setting a book in her lap. "Well, that was a bust." she smiled to the man in the bed after she had finished reading. "Maybe we'll watch a movie next time. Stick with the classics. Something cute and animated like my son liked to watch." she stood and observed his face, curious and contemplative. "Do you have any sons, daughters?" she asked, knowing he couldn't answer. Nonetheless she took his hand and gave it a little squeeze.
Quote from Indy on July 25, 2020, 11:01 pmWhen Arthur had been just a boy, his father had shown him the proper way to set a fire. They'd hiked all day until they reached a summit, his little legs wobbling despite his boyish enthusiasm. The sun lay like the center of a cracked egg, slowly falling down below the horizon in lazy yellow swirls. Even in the dying heat, the summer was still oppressive and heavy. A fire had seemed the last thing they ought do.
"Now son," his father had said, "I know it might not seem it right now, but we'll need the sunlight to gather supplies. I promise you, once the sun is gone, you'll be wanting that fire".
His father had clearly been mad as they gathered fallen leaves, twigs, and chopped up a fallen tree. More so when they spent the next eternity peeling off slivers of wood from one of the logs, making a fine nest of little debris. They'd built the pyre as if they were laying a house, first establishing a firm foundation in the leaves, then twigs, climbing upwards to the logs. Yet when his father had sent the flint sparking into a fingers, it wouldn't light. Forest fires were a common enough occurrence in the summer - surely it should be a reasonable ask! His forehead still dripped with thick beads of sweat. He was almost frustrated enough to storm off. But with the patience of a boy who knew his father more often right than wrong, his resisted the urge. Instead, he watched his father as if he were studying a great magician.
The kindling lit. His father blew on it gently, cradling it in his palms as if it were an infant. Then he set it to rest in the bed of the pyre, peering at it with such diligence it was no doubt that was the center of his universe. When the flame finally set, he felt his little heart quiver in his chest. His father had been right, too: not a moment before the blaze had offered heat, the night air had become vastly unkind.
His father had nodded smartly then, as if he weren't looking at a fire just then but one of the great auditoriums he often lectured at.
"You see son, there isn't nothing you can't accomplish with a little bit of elbow grease and determination. There isn't a pit deep enough, a valley tall enough, or a fire stubborn enough that you can't overcome with a bit of study and a bit of work. Remember that, son, when it seems like the odds are stacked against you".
Young Arthur had nodded to this wisdom as it burned inside him, humming along to the fire. It had been a very wise thing to say. And for many years, it had served Arthur very well.
It was a good thing Arthur was long-gone.
****
Willowman stirred for the first time in days, his eyes cracking open to the dim light of the room. He felt stronger. Agonies of the flesh had retreated. But still, the first rays of light as his eyes slid open felt like a massive hill unto itself. Yet with the one eye he studied the woman voicelessly.
Tentatively, he let air rush over his vocals in a rusty hum, feeling the grime that had settled in.
"No," he said at last.
When Arthur had been just a boy, his father had shown him the proper way to set a fire. They'd hiked all day until they reached a summit, his little legs wobbling despite his boyish enthusiasm. The sun lay like the center of a cracked egg, slowly falling down below the horizon in lazy yellow swirls. Even in the dying heat, the summer was still oppressive and heavy. A fire had seemed the last thing they ought do.
"Now son," his father had said, "I know it might not seem it right now, but we'll need the sunlight to gather supplies. I promise you, once the sun is gone, you'll be wanting that fire".
His father had clearly been mad as they gathered fallen leaves, twigs, and chopped up a fallen tree. More so when they spent the next eternity peeling off slivers of wood from one of the logs, making a fine nest of little debris. They'd built the pyre as if they were laying a house, first establishing a firm foundation in the leaves, then twigs, climbing upwards to the logs. Yet when his father had sent the flint sparking into a fingers, it wouldn't light. Forest fires were a common enough occurrence in the summer - surely it should be a reasonable ask! His forehead still dripped with thick beads of sweat. He was almost frustrated enough to storm off. But with the patience of a boy who knew his father more often right than wrong, his resisted the urge. Instead, he watched his father as if he were studying a great magician.
The kindling lit. His father blew on it gently, cradling it in his palms as if it were an infant. Then he set it to rest in the bed of the pyre, peering at it with such diligence it was no doubt that was the center of his universe. When the flame finally set, he felt his little heart quiver in his chest. His father had been right, too: not a moment before the blaze had offered heat, the night air had become vastly unkind.
His father had nodded smartly then, as if he weren't looking at a fire just then but one of the great auditoriums he often lectured at.
"You see son, there isn't nothing you can't accomplish with a little bit of elbow grease and determination. There isn't a pit deep enough, a valley tall enough, or a fire stubborn enough that you can't overcome with a bit of study and a bit of work. Remember that, son, when it seems like the odds are stacked against you".
Young Arthur had nodded to this wisdom as it burned inside him, humming along to the fire. It had been a very wise thing to say. And for many years, it had served Arthur very well.
It was a good thing Arthur was long-gone.
****
Willowman stirred for the first time in days, his eyes cracking open to the dim light of the room. He felt stronger. Agonies of the flesh had retreated. But still, the first rays of light as his eyes slid open felt like a massive hill unto itself. Yet with the one eye he studied the woman voicelessly.
Tentatively, he let air rush over his vocals in a rusty hum, feeling the grime that had settled in.
"No," he said at last.
Quote from Adriana on July 27, 2020, 5:02 pmThe woman smiled to hear him speak, and although she was inwardly preparing herself to meet the man and learn more about his current mental state, it wouldn't show the slightest in her expression or disposition.
"My name is Amelia. I'm your caretaker." she said smoothly, moving over to the lightswitch and dimming it a bit more. Every word was spoke deliberately and with care, and she often looked back to meet his eyes. She reached up and took a clipboard down off the door.
"You've been here for six days and five nights. I have your chart, we listed all of the medications you've been given in laymens terms as well as medical ones." she sat it by his bedside.
"Are you able to tell me what you're feeling or thinking at this moment?" she asked, standing by his bed with her hands in front of her.
The woman smiled to hear him speak, and although she was inwardly preparing herself to meet the man and learn more about his current mental state, it wouldn't show the slightest in her expression or disposition.
"My name is Amelia. I'm your caretaker." she said smoothly, moving over to the lightswitch and dimming it a bit more. Every word was spoke deliberately and with care, and she often looked back to meet his eyes. She reached up and took a clipboard down off the door.
"You've been here for six days and five nights. I have your chart, we listed all of the medications you've been given in laymens terms as well as medical ones." she sat it by his bedside.
"Are you able to tell me what you're feeling or thinking at this moment?" she asked, standing by his bed with her hands in front of her.
Quote from Indy on July 28, 2020, 1:36 pmThe man turned his head slightly on the pillow, both eyes taking in the sight of the woman. From her kindly eyes and soft curls, his eyes traced outwards as he took note of the softly-lit room - yes room - he lay in.
Then he moved inwards, abruptly aware he was not drifting off somewhere. He found his fingers again, wiggling them against the strange, stiff fabric. Then his toes, feeling that they'd been encased in soft, woolen socks. He took a slow breath inwards, detecting subtle signs of detergent and anticeptic. Clean. Not earth.
"Where...." his voice trailed off, his chest constricting.
He could feel a heaviness in his limbs, a kind of sluggishness. A sedative.. He could recognize the effect of drugs in his system with great skill now. The woman's mention of the clipboard was forgotten amidst the panic.
His left hand fought a moment with the covers, his breath fast and his forehead pricking with sweat. In a momumental effort it found its other, and the narrow snake-like tube attached at the vein on the top of the palm. He investigated the foreign object for a moment before he started to pull.
The man turned his head slightly on the pillow, both eyes taking in the sight of the woman. From her kindly eyes and soft curls, his eyes traced outwards as he took note of the softly-lit room - yes room - he lay in.
Then he moved inwards, abruptly aware he was not drifting off somewhere. He found his fingers again, wiggling them against the strange, stiff fabric. Then his toes, feeling that they'd been encased in soft, woolen socks. He took a slow breath inwards, detecting subtle signs of detergent and anticeptic. Clean. Not earth.
"Where...." his voice trailed off, his chest constricting.
He could feel a heaviness in his limbs, a kind of sluggishness. A sedative.. He could recognize the effect of drugs in his system with great skill now. The woman's mention of the clipboard was forgotten amidst the panic.
His left hand fought a moment with the covers, his breath fast and his forehead pricking with sweat. In a momumental effort it found its other, and the narrow snake-like tube attached at the vein on the top of the palm. He investigated the foreign object for a moment before he started to pull.
Quote from Adriana on July 28, 2020, 4:37 pmAmelia caught his hand before he could do any damage. "We can lower the dose of the sedative, it's called midazolam. We lowered the dose to see how you would respond, and intend to keep lowering it until you feel more like-" yourself wasn't quite the right word, so Amelia paused a moment with her brow knit, "-more human."
She held his hand and met his eyes evenly, murky green eyes moving between his as she offered a concerned smile, fine lines breaking at the edges of her lips and eyes. "You are safe here, I promise. I know it's hard to trust. But you're not alone."
Now she stood and moved over to the IV pump, "I'll turn the sedative down, but please-promise not to hurt yourself. Your body still isn't recovered."
Amelia caught his hand before he could do any damage. "We can lower the dose of the sedative, it's called midazolam. We lowered the dose to see how you would respond, and intend to keep lowering it until you feel more like-" yourself wasn't quite the right word, so Amelia paused a moment with her brow knit, "-more human."
She held his hand and met his eyes evenly, murky green eyes moving between his as she offered a concerned smile, fine lines breaking at the edges of her lips and eyes. "You are safe here, I promise. I know it's hard to trust. But you're not alone."
Now she stood and moved over to the IV pump, "I'll turn the sedative down, but please-promise not to hurt yourself. Your body still isn't recovered."
Quote from Indy on July 28, 2020, 7:12 pmThe man remained frozen in place at the woman's voice, fingers still grasping the tubes but the previous commitment fled. He watched her turn the dial down. He held a moment longer, until he felt the fuzzy-headedness take a small retreat. With it came aches and pains, but they were familiar enough to be a comfort. He didn't know who he would be without them.
He removed his hand, watching the woman. He could remove it later when she left. As long as he kept his eyes on her, he could make sure she didn't try to crank it back up on him before he had the chance.
"Who do you work for?" his dark, sunken eyes peered into hers without blinking,"His.... or theirs?"
The man remained frozen in place at the woman's voice, fingers still grasping the tubes but the previous commitment fled. He watched her turn the dial down. He held a moment longer, until he felt the fuzzy-headedness take a small retreat. With it came aches and pains, but they were familiar enough to be a comfort. He didn't know who he would be without them.
He removed his hand, watching the woman. He could remove it later when she left. As long as he kept his eyes on her, he could make sure she didn't try to crank it back up on him before he had the chance.
"Who do you work for?" his dark, sunken eyes peered into hers without blinking,"His.... or theirs?"
Quote from Adriana on July 28, 2020, 7:43 pm“I am a werewolf,” she replied evenly, taking a seat and crossing her legs. She was wearing a brown knit sweater and jeans, not usual nurse attire. "But I don’t work for anyone. Technically, I don’t exist.”
She put a finger to her lips in a hushing motion, behind it a coy smile. "Nobody here does. Including you."
The woman hummed and looked at her watch. “It’s safer this way.”
“I am a werewolf,” she replied evenly, taking a seat and crossing her legs. She was wearing a brown knit sweater and jeans, not usual nurse attire. "But I don’t work for anyone. Technically, I don’t exist.”
She put a finger to her lips in a hushing motion, behind it a coy smile. "Nobody here does. Including you."
The woman hummed and looked at her watch. “It’s safer this way.”
Quote from Indy on July 28, 2020, 11:09 pmThe willowy man trembled to her words, his eyes suddenly closed. His breath was short and his skin went clammy. Stupid, he was meant to keep an eye on her.
But did it even matter, if she was one of them?
"You're not real," he whispered fervently, as if to himself, "You can't be. Can't be..."
He went quiet a moment, listening intently. The room was silent, save the gentle drip from the IV bags and his own rapid breath. He listened beneath those sounds, to the ringing of the silence. But he could not hear her words. And he wept to think her lost to him, to live in a world where monsters existed but the mountain's soft voice did not.
The willowy man trembled to her words, his eyes suddenly closed. His breath was short and his skin went clammy. Stupid, he was meant to keep an eye on her.
But did it even matter, if she was one of them?
"You're not real," he whispered fervently, as if to himself, "You can't be. Can't be..."
He went quiet a moment, listening intently. The room was silent, save the gentle drip from the IV bags and his own rapid breath. He listened beneath those sounds, to the ringing of the silence. But he could not hear her words. And he wept to think her lost to him, to live in a world where monsters existed but the mountain's soft voice did not.
Quote from Adriana on July 29, 2020, 6:51 pmAmelia leaned back in the chair, eyes full of sympathy and concern. There was little she could say that would console him or even reach his ears at this point. All she could do was let him rest for now..
Amelia leaned back in the chair, eyes full of sympathy and concern. There was little she could say that would console him or even reach his ears at this point. All she could do was let him rest for now..
