paixaorpg | Accelerated recuperation [Active]

Entry tags:

Accelerated recuperation [Active]

Character(s): Montblanc, Zidane, Braska
Content: "Saving Private Tribal" continues.
Setting: A house in the M5 area
Time: Morning, after this
Warnings: Don't drive onto the offramp.

The house he'd found was small, and the couple who owned it were gone for now, having to be at work. But they'd kindly agreed to let Montblanc and his injured friend stay a little longer while they were out, and even helped clean the boy up until they'd had to leave. He would have to send them something by way of appreciation for this when he got the chance.

For now, the moogle sat in a high-backed chair that, while criminally comfy, did a good job of dwarfing him. He occasionally looked over at the couch for any sign of change in his companion, although there wasn't much. Montblanc's magick had done what he thought was a decent job of patching him up, but the kid had been through a lot, and probably needed rest in any case, whether or not he was sleeping naturally. And if he wasn't, well, the healer he'd called could help with that, when he arrived.

In the meantime, he'd taken his small (by hume standards; from his own point of view it was a perfectly reasonable size), well-worn clan primer out from his pocket and was flipping through its pages. He'd been right the first time, though, there didn't seem to be anything quite like the lumens he'd seen in here. Different world, different wildlife, kupo, he reminded himself. It was only natural.

There were still a good number of blank pages in here, though. Plenty of room to write down whatever he learned about these creatures, and there was plenty he wanted to know. It went beyond personal interest; they'd piqued his curiosity as a hunter. Now it was professional.

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It had taken Braska more time than he would have liked, but he had made it to the home specified in the journals. He wished he had gotten the person who had asked for help's name, though he supposed he could get it once inside. No, after his patient was healed. That was the most important thing.

He seemed to be quite busy healing people lately. He wondered if he should simply set up a job for himself in this place as a healer, as people seemed to need it quite a bit. He wouldn't dare charge anyone who needed his services, either. He couldn't stand letting someone stay in pain.

Braska came out of his thoughts as soon as he reached the door to the house, reaching up and rapping on the door a few times before waiting patiently for a response.

Ah! Montblanc looked up at the knock, then pocketed his primer and hopped off the chair. That'd be the man he called out, of course. "Coming, kupo!" he called, scuttling into the front hall. Once there, he jumped to reach the doorknob, his orange wings fluttering energetically to keep him aloft as he swung the front door open.

"Good morning, kupo," he greeted Braska, gesturing with one arm to usher him in. "Thanks a million for coming out on short notice like this, kupo."

Braska smiled kindly and nodded. "Good morning. And it is no problem at all, really. I find it hard to stand by when people are injured." It was then that he noticed the pompom. A moogle? He hadn't seen one outside of the stuffed animals that children often carried around. Maybe this was something else that resulted from there being different worlds. Otherwise the craftsmen who made those stuffed animals weren't very accurate at all.

But it was impolite to stare. Instead Braska turned his gaze to his patient, walking over next to him and looking him over closely. It seemed whatever wounds the young man had received had healed over some. The moogle must have used some curative magic before Braska had gotten there.

Hm... that wouldn't do. He couldn't just refer to him as "the moogle," it was rude. Turning back towards his... employer? he gave a short, respectful bow. "I should introduce myself. My name is Braska. I am..." he paused in thought. He wasn't a summoner anymore, that was for certain. That job passed after death. He hadn't been a priest in a long time. "Just a healer now, I suppose," it was what he was quickly becoming, anyway, "Yourself?"

Montblanc dropped back lightly to the ground and shut the door behind Braska as he came in, following him into the living room where Zidane still lay on the sofa, and ultimately hopping up onto the coffee table nearby as the healer looked the kid over.

He gave a little bow in return, with a smile, after Braska introduced himself. "Montblanc, head of Clan Centurio, at your service, kupo," he replied, then turned to the couch. "Afraid I can't tell you what his name is yet, kupo. Poor fella was half delirious when I found him."

Poor fella indeed. Hopefully the young man would give them an account of what exactly had happened, but if not, Braska was going to try not to pry. From Montblanc's descriptions, the fight the young man had been in hadn't been a pretty one.

The soft light of an Esuna enveloped the sleeping boy for a few seconds before dying down. Braska backed up a couple of steps in order to give the boy some breathing room before waiting quietly and hoping that it would be enough to wake him up.

Zidane could feel his insides churning, the remnants of darkness still warring with whatever the lumens had pushed into his skin. His sleep had been full of memories of the city, of all the people he had met, and how all those people were now gone and he was alone. It wasn't something that would normally bog him down, but then, there were a lot of things that wouldn't normally bog him down before he came here. He certainly still had some revenge to take against the Organization, but that could wait, he knew even in his subconscious that he couldn't win as this mess that he was.

His body jerked from the magic, the war of light and darkness disturbed. Still out of it, Zidane's mouth opened to release a cry of pain; neither substances felt like leaving and he could feel them bury deeper, a small fragment connecting to him as the rest shriveled away with the spell.

His arms and tail wrapped around his body and he almost rolled off the couch, trembling again. He remembered his passing out, despite how delirious he had been - oh if Garnet had really been there - but her magic had a different feel to it, and this wasn't it.

Zidane's eyes did at last open, slow slivers, sad blues staring at the floor. He wasn't sure who was in the room, but he found himself unable to look at them. Everyone else had left him, they would soon, once they realized.

Montblanc jumped a little at Zidane's sudden jerking about. That was weird, he'd never seen anybody react to an everyday Esuna like that, short of the undead. He sure hoped that didn't signal something more severe than they'd thought...

When he did still again, Montblanc stepped forward across the table, leaning over the gap between it and the couch to make sure he was awake. Good grief, the kid was still shaking like a leaf! He must have been terrified, although frankly the moogle couldn't blame him, after that bad an attack. "Kupo... It's gonna be all right, you're among friends now, kupo," he said kindly. "...You feeling any better, kupo?" he added after a second.

Braska went over to the boy's side, crouching down beside him. "He is right. You're safe now. No need to worry," he added as he moved Zidane further back onto the couch. It wouldn't do to have him end up on the floor.

What exactly had this boy gone through? To feel pain from an Esuna... To be as terrified as he was... Whatever had happened, it must have been horrible. Maybe Braska would wait and let the young man tell them what happened on his own time.

His body was settling, thank goodness. It still didn't make him feel much better, mentally. But... these people helped him, and he couldn't help but feel grateful. They helped him sort through the darkness and find himself back in the light. He wasn't sure he'd be talking about it any time soon though. And that was saying something, 'cause damn he could talk sometimes...

He swallowed, throat dry, and didn't quite meet the eyes of the moogle. "I 'spose so..." The moogle did look different than the sorts he was use to, but a moogle was a moogle, and the familiarity of it was... nice. His gaze shifted between the two and after a moment, he added, "...Thank you. Both of you. I..." his voice trailed off and he glanced away, not sure of what to say.

"Don't mention it, kupo!" Montblanc replied, smiling brightly in what was partly a subtle attempt at cheering the boy up through sheer contagiousness. "I'm just glad we were able to help, kupo."

This seemed like a good time to get the remaining introductions out of the way. "Ah - forgive my rudeness, kupo. I'm Montblanc, and this is the healer Braska," he added, gesturing to both of them in turn. "What's your name, kupo?"

"Really, it was no trouble at all. Do you need anything?" Braska asked, "Something to drink?" He wouldn't be using the water from the tap, of course. Who knew if that was still tampered with. A weak water spell should fill up the glass nicely, though he would have to be careful with his control of it. He didn't want to get the floor all wet after all, though he would've been more than happy to clean it up if he had.

Zidane slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. He knew it might take him, well, awhile to be back to his old self, but even when the darkness had taken a hold of him, he was still one damn stubborn genome. He didn't like sitting around, and he especially didn't like sitting around looking weak.

Larxene's twisted face flashed into him mind; her running at him faster than he would've ever thought, kunai out, and then buried into his abdomen -

He cringed a bit and rested his head back. "My name's Zidane Tribal," he muttered, trying to keep his focus on this room and this place. He shouldn't get bogged down by these things. He should remember the cheery people he's met in this city.

Like Delirium. Only she was gone now -

"Montblanc, huh?" he asked. "The hunter's club guy?" He smiled loosely. "I think I may like to join that." It'd be a wonderful distraction. "It's nice to see a moogle around here, though you're a bit different than what I'm use to."

He smiled warmly at Braska, lifting his head slightly to do so. "Something to drink would be great." His throat was getting annoying.

He tried not to hear rainfall in his mind and splashing around him -

Zidane rested his head back again. Damn, he had a headache.

How about that? Word really did get around fast with these journal devices, if Zidane had already heard of his Clan. And it was nice to run into someone who'd heard of moogles before and didn't think it was something to laugh at. "Well, thank you, kupo," he said warmly, taking a seat on the edge of the table. "Although, if you don't mind my saying, I don't think you should be hunting much of anything for a while, kupo. Not until your body's had some time to recover." White magick was indispensable in a pinch, naturally, but there was no substitute for good old-fashioned rest. Zidane seemed to already know how much he needed it, anyway.

"... So, are you from Ivalice, too, kupo?" he asked after a moment. If they had moogles, it was definitely worth asking, especially considering how many places he'd heard about lately that didn't. It was still weird to think that his kind was actually unusual around here.

Hm... the boy seemed to keep spacing off. Memories of the incident returning to him, maybe? Or maybe memories of things before that. Like his home. Home...

He could still remember the beauty that he left behind in Spira. Bevelle, Besaid, Luca, Macalania Woods, Kilika, the Calm Lands, Mt. Gagazet, the Moonflow... the ruins of Zanarkand... The last one stood right at the forefront of his memory, right next to those of Bevelle. Zanarkand, the place where he had met and accepted his fate for the final time. And then it had been back to the Calm Lands, the last piece of Spira he would see before he returned to his wife in the Farplane. Did he really want to see the world one last time? No, not really. He knew he didn't belong there anymore, though it would always be his home. He would be happy to return back to his afterlife. It was a chance to see Yuna again that he...

Now wasn't the time for reminiscence. Braska still had to get Zidane something to drink like he had said he would, after all. He left and returned shortly afterward with a glass of water--magically filled, of course. "Ivalice?" Braska asked curiously as he handed the glass over.

Heh, he definitely did need more rest, he could feel the cramps in his body. If not that, resting his mind would be the next course of action. He tried not to make his spacing off obvious, but it was... hard. He felt drained and defeated; it reminded him of Pandemonium. But this time there wasn't his group of friends to shake him out of his slump.

...so he would get out on his own, slowly, but he would. He wasn't meant to be like this. Larxene and Lexaeus out the window. He could cope! And he'd get back at them, both of them. Well, actually... he knew where to find Lexaeus... He should tell someone that... he should....

And yet he kept it to himself.

"Ivalice?" He realized the moogle had asked him about it and looked quickly to him, after accepted the glass from Braska and nodding in thanks to him. "No, I'm not." He had been all over Gaia and, well, Terra. There was no place called Ivalice. "I'm from -" he paused, and he didn't really know why it tripped him up for a moment, "- Gaia. From the kingdom of Alexandria to Paixao. Heh."

"I see." So neither of them was... Montblanc couldn't say that wasn't a little disappointing, but it wasn't anything to worry about. "Sounds like a nice place, kupo," he commented brightly.

He couldn't help wondering what time it was, though he didn't ask. They'd imposed quite a bit already on the family living here, and eventually they'd have to be getting back (he assumed, naturally, that Zidane would be staying at his place for a while). But he had no intention of rushing anyone around before they were ready to go, even if there wasn't much actual walking involved.

Zidane must have still been a bit out of it to have to think about where he came from. Or maybe he just was a traveler? Braska found himself curious now. Just what was Ivalice like? What about Alexandria? It was a chance to learn more, and he couldn't help but take it. Chances like these would never come again.

"What are your worlds like?" he asked them.

His mind skipped a beat again, thinking of Kuja radiating with magic and destroying first the crystal towers and then all of Terra. He shook his head lightly and drank a good amount of the water that Braska had gave him and then sighed. Refreshing. He hadn't really ate or drank anything during that... whole period. Actually, he had been eating with Roxas at the Wild Ginger when Larxene showed up. Last meal, really. .... How long had that been?

He hated the flow of time here. It was wrong. It didn't make any sense. None of it. Ugh.

That's right. Braska asked a question. He was going to answer it. Huh.

"Gaia was..." he smiled, thinking of all the places he went on that world. "There were a lot of interesting places in Gaia... and some others that I never want to return to... But most of the people? They don't... stop. Kick 'em down and they're rebuild. As many times as they have to."

He hoped that Alexandria was safe. That Dagger, his-time Dagger, was coping without him.

He... needed to start to rebuild. Like the people of Gaia.

Montblanc couldn't help but smile at Zidane's description of the Gaians. "Sounds a lot like Dalmasca, kupo," he commented. True, he'd heard the first rumors of Rabanastre's resistance just weeks after King Raminas's death, but it was only recently that he'd met anyone who'd actually been part of it. The people had, for the most part, just done their best to cut their losses and go on with their lives.

"Well, I may be a little biased in saying this, kupo, but there's really no place like Ivalice," he said proudly, changing gears a bit for himself. "I don't think I've been to a part of it I didn't like, to be honest, kupo. And with the war being over now, all the better, kupo," he added, half as an afterthought. He didn't know how much detail either of them wanted, though, and not having much interest in politics himself, he decided to leave that where it was for now.

Granted, Zidane's use of the past tense about his world hadn't escaped Montblanc's notice. "Out of curiosity, how long have you gentlemen been in town, kupo?" he asked.

"It reminds me of Spira as well," Braska said, nodding, "No matter how many times the village is destroyed, there is always someone there to rebuild. Always one voice of hope in the midst of sorrow." He couldn't help but smile sadly. Those dark times he had left behind... What was Spira now?

He nodded to each account, listening intently. He wished he could have gotten more information, but that was likely to just drag in more homesickness from the two. It was best not to pry too much.

"Spira is very beautiful. There are places that are hard to return to, but they brighten again with time. I would think it a considerably brighter place now," he said, this time with a hint of pride. She had done so well...

How long had he been here? Braska had to think about that one for a second. "About a week. Two weeks at most, I believe."

Zidane blinked a bit at Braska, shifting himself slightly. Two weeks at most? And Montblanc... had he been here only so long as well? Zidane tried to think. Give an approximation. He looked to be in deep thought, and after a bit of tallying it all in his mind, he looked back at them, a bit sheepishly.

"It's... probably been almost, ah, three months now for me," he added a small smile. This no doubt wasn't something that they'd want to hear. It probably wouldn't give them much hope, that's for sure. But, well, Zidane wasn't going to lie to them. "Heh. But you know, time is really skewered here. Could be longer, could be shorter. I think two months though, at the very least."

Montblanc blinked, particularly at Zidane's response. "That long, kupo?" he asked, surprised. "It's only been three or four days for me, kupo..." He trailed up as the oddness of his own statement caught up with him, though. Three or four days? Well, which was it? He shouldn't have lost track of the the time so quickly...

Maybe it had just skewed away from him.

But, that was neither here nor there. Making a quick mental note to keep a tally of the days from here on out, he picked up about where he left off. "Have you got a place to stay, kupo?" he said, not as a request for himself but as clarification on who (if anyone) he might be putting up later at his own place. He certainly wouldn't mind, if that was how it turned out.

Three months? My, that was a long time indeed. He wondered what Zidane meant by time being skewered in this place, but said nothing. He supposed that would be something he was going to have to figure out on his own. It seemed a difficult subject to explain, at least.

"Yes," Braska lied. He really didn't have anywhere of his own to stay to be honest, but he didn't want to be a bother. After all, if Zidane needed some more treatment, he was likely to go with Montblanc, and the moogle didn't need anyone else to worry about. Braska had stayed outside many times before on his travels anyway. Once he was comfortable enough with this place he'd finally choose somewhere to stay, but he didn't need to be a bother to others in the meantime.

The main problem he faced was whether or not he wanted to check into a hotel here or choose one of the cheaper apartments. Zidane had been here for a few months, hadn't he? How long would Braska end up here for? "Don't worry about me," he finally said.

He figured they hadn't been here that long. There weren't that many that had been. Timon and... who else? Well, surprisingly enough, he didn't get around so much here. He had been so focused on a small number of people, most of whom were gone now, that he missed paying attention on others. Who did he have now? Godot, Zack, these two....

He ducked his head at Montblanc's question. He hadn't stayed anywhere in quite awhile. He always had hated staying bolted around in one place; sometimes he wondered how he managed it in Alexandria.

But he would have to now, wouldn't he? With his current condition?

"Uh, no, I'm not staying anywhere right now." Having a place would make him fairly... well, grateful.

Zidane cast a look in Braska's direction, tilted his head a bit. Lots of people said 'don't worry about me' when really... Well. He shouldn't pry.

Montblanc looked somewhat questioningly at Braska for a second as well, but then let the thought drop. After all, he'd said he had a place already, right? The moogle turned back to Zidane, getting to his feet atop the table. "I just ask because I've found a pretty good-sized house down by the shop - I'm thinking to convert it into a local headquarters or somesuch, kupo, but it's got more room than I can use right at the moment." He extended a hand to Zidane, whether to shake or help him up. "You're welcome to stay on a while, if you like, kupo."

Braska felt rather relieved when no one said anything. Whether they hadn't noticed or they did and were just respecting his privacy, he was grateful. He wasn't sure how he'd answer any questions they'd have for him. Likely with a lie. He didn't much care for lies, but he would rather that than have them worry over him. Zidane was the one who needed help, not he.

"I suppose I should be on my way," Braska said, offering the two a short bow, "If either of you need anything else, please do not hesitate to contact me."

((No excuse on my end for this. >.> Sorry.))

((OMGI'MSORRY ~~*only realized it was actually her turn a coupla days ago o.o*~~))

Zidane actually beamed at Montblanc, a reassuring one. He had been off and on (trying not to be rude about it) looking over the journals, and his old self was beginning to slip in. And it was about time, too. He couldn't sock it to the Organization if he just kept sulking over everything that happened.

"Thanks, Montblanc. That'd be awesome!" And it was comforting to be around a moogle, even if it wasn't the kind he was use to seeing. The bit of familiarity was wonderful. He turned his gaze back to Braska, still beaming away. "Yeah, of course! It's good to have other contacts in this city... especially with everything that's been going on..."

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Accelerated recuperation [Active]

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