XOqNI

[tongueamok]

Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep]

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[tongueamok]

[Carlisle doesn't respond as Rey picks him up, completely and utterly dead weight as she sets him in the chair. He sputters to life a moment later as he suddenly straightens up, raising a shaking hand to his lips and hacking into it. Ink comes up, as expected... followed by more and more, the flow heavy as it spills on his tabard from his mouth.]

S- s- s- sorry, Miss— [his voice trembles as he rubs at his face, the ink seeping out from beneath his nails smearing across him] — Miss- Miss Rey. I w- wasn't ex- expecting to be s- so worn from the f- f- feeding and I did wh- what I could with what I h- h- had to w- work with and I think y- y- you are mostly in one p- p- piece an—

[He doubles over, his hand clutching violently at his abdomen as another flood of the black bile spills from him.]

[circumitus]

[Having done her fair share of hauling dead weight, Rey can handle Carlisle's just fine. Even after fighting off an invisible creature that tried to strangle the life out of her after its attempts to thoroughly disembowel her, she can bite through the remaining pain to deal with this. Though a few minutes ago she would be concerned with her insides either spilling out or finishing her off within, neither of those things happened. And now she has to deal with... this.

[If Rey had known that this was going to happen, she would have thought twice about calling Carlisle. She can barely make sense out of a word he keeps stuttering, and her immediate assumption is shock. Only he isn't choking out blood so much as it's... whatever the hell that black stuff is.

[Just as she had set him up, he's falling again. Rey catches him again by the shoulders, placing him upright while he sorts out whatever this fit he's having is. Sure, the black bile ends up on the floor and at her bare feet, but who is she to whine?]

What the hell is wrong with you?!

[tongueamok]

[The one hand stays at his middle; he raises the other defensively, as though to stop any worry she may be experiencing. It's a late attempt, given the way ink is still streaming from him, running down his chin on its way to the floor, the drops audible as they hit the metal plates on his shoes.]

There's n- nothing wrong w- with me. [His nose wrinkles as he says that, and though his eyes are closed, the disdain that lies within them is written across the rest of his face.] I- I pushed too hard f- for the condition I am- am in is all. This- this is normal.

[For him, maybe. He does seem to finally be catching his breath, the discharge of ink slowing down. He utters another apology, though it seems more as a reflex to another cough than a genuine sentiment.]

[circumitus]

Bullshit. This-- [She gestures at Carlisle, at the geiser of ink he's been spewing.] --isn't normal, just like how this-- [And now she points at herself, indicating the black smudges of samandrine still on her skin.] --is not normal. Where is that shit coming from? Is it terminal?

[From where Rey is standing, it looks like Carlisle has some sort of freak illness. And that wouldn't be nearly as disconcerting if it weren't for the fact that she's seen more than her share of freak illnesses over the decades. Seriously. Fuck biological warfare.

[After a moment, she steps back. Breathes. Attempts to be calm this time.]

Thank you, by the way.

[Huff.]

[tongueamok]

[It takes a moment, but Carlisle's eyes manage to focus on the black blotches that dot Rey's skin. Right, he had seen that when he came in, hadn't he? Before all the panic and the part where he was sure she was going to die right then and there. He draws his bandaged arm across his mouth, leaving another black stain across it, and tells himself to ask about that later -- likely after he's caught his breath and soothed both his and her alarm.]

You- you're welcome, Miss Rey. [He stifles a small cough, the back of his throat raw.] Not an illness, I assure you. A consequence of a condition I have. Not contagious. Not fatal.

[Though the way he's completely exhausted from all the ink he hacked up probably isn't encouraging. At least she can't tell his limbs are going numb from a surface inspection.]

You well enough?

[He'd use more words, but his voice is already bordering on raspy, and he doesn't want to worry Glacius any more than he already does. He's just hoping to be able to return home and scrub the stains from his clothing before his roommate returns.]

[circumitus]

[Rey's eyes narrow. A "consequence" of the condition? Not a symptom, or a side effect? Carlisle talk like he brought this on himself. Maybe he did. She doesn't know. It occurs to her very suddenly just how little she does know this person, despite asking him for help.]

Will have to be. The rest will just heal on its own time. [Something which she isn't all too bothered with.

[Not sure what else to do with herself, Rey goes to scavenge the run-down shop to locate a clean towel, blanket, something. Anything that hasn't already been sullied by samandrine, anyway.

[Shortly later, she tracks down the cleanest handkerchief she can find, returning to Carlisle and handing it to him. If nothing else, he can clean that shit off his face.]

What is that stuff?

[tongueamok]

[By the time Rey returns, Carlisle is looking marginally more alive than he had been: though as sickly pale as ever and still shaking, he no longer seems to be on the verge of passing out in a puddle of black goo. Small improvements.

He takes the handkerchief with a brief word of gratitude, and after a second's struggle, conjures an orb of water into his palm. He wets the fabric and removes his glasses, glad to have something to clean his face. His clothing will be much harder, but he's become an excellent scrubber at this point.]

Black bile. Again, it- it is nothing you need to concern yourself with. I am simply- simply worn out and should have taken it slower. I s- suppose I was too eager to be of some use to you.

[To prove himself more competent than he's sure his last conversation with her would have led her to believe.]

[circumitus]

[Hey now, he isn't two seconds away from being knocked out puking black shit all over himself and she isn't going to wake up tomorrow to her entrails scattered all over the place. For what it's worth, that's the best possible outcome to a party's end in Rey's book.

[She squints as Carlisle does his thing. Even making water from nothing after exerting himself from healing, no less. The rules of what makes his abilities work is perplexing to her.

[What's more perplexing is what he tells her.]

Why? Because you wanted to help, or because you still feel accountable for what you did to "her"?

[The other Rey. It's easier not to refer to that other version as hersslf.]

[tongueamok]

[He looks at the blackened mess that ruins the handkerchief. At least his face is relatively clean, even if the rest of him still isn't.]

Both. I will do what I must to repay my debt.

[Yes, even to this other Rey.]

[circumitus]

[A pang shoots through her ribs, but it's easy enough to ignore. Rey grits her teeth through it as she stares at Carlisle. His bizarre devotion to this guilt complex is confounding, even to her, who feels the gravity of actions caused by people who weren't even her.]

Yes, well. Consider your debt or whatever repaid. [Her fingers clasp at her side, as she reminds herself for all it truly is: Pain.

[It's only pain.]

[tongueamok]

[The weary part of him that is tired of dealing with his own guilt wants to accept that; the other part, which doesn't know what to do if he's not dealing with guilt, cannot. He stripped her friends of their free will -- some healing, no matter how complicated, does not equal a sin like that.

Unfortunately, he's not sure what could. Her acceptance of his work as a debt repaid may have to do. He dodges the subject for the second, folding the fabric in his hands.]

What happened, if I may ask?

[circumitus]

[Even after being healed, the fatigue kicks in all over again. She scoops up the blanket she dropped, wrapping it around her once more. Not because she's coy, or that she's cold, but it makes her feel more secure. Safer? Samandrine is not a pretty sight for most people, just like the Salamander itself that wore the stuff like some sort of flaming armor. It isn't skin she is happy wearing, and is more eager to shed it.]

Attack on the HQ. Wasn't going to intervene, but the guy has an invisible friend that runs around for him. Seen it tear into a bunch of androids in the tunnels. It would've mowed down certain people on the Guard.

[tongueamok]

[He lets out a shaky breath, flexing his fingers to fight the numbness that's quickly spreading through his limbs.]

The Guard?

[Yes, the Guard. The City Guard. The people who protect the city. The Guard that Glacius is a part of. That Guard. He's out of that chair in an instant.]

Is that where Gla—

[And the next instant, he stops himself from collapsing entirely by clinging to a nearby desk. The numbness is well into his legs, and he wasn't prepared to stand on them. He hisses and bites back some pain of his own.]

Glacius! Is he all right? Was he here?

[circumitus]

[Glacius?

[Oh, right. Rey did see him hanging out in the Guard Headquarters before Sato decided he wanted to throw a "party" there. She blinks as Carlisle shoots up from his seat.]

Noticed some of the defenses that looked like his handiwork, but didn't see him there when everything was happening. Haven't heard of there being any casualties.

[Other than Sato, but he doesn't count. Which is about as much consolation that Rey can give at the moment.]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle manages to steady his legs as his immediate fears seem allayed for the moment.]

Okay, good. Good good. He's fine then. Probably.

[Was he worried? Of course.]

[circumitus]

He seems like the type who can handle his own.

[It's the most reassurance that she is at liberty to give at the moment.]

[tongueamok]

[More than Kate, at least.]

Of course. I was just... concerned, I suppose.

[He eases back down and rubs at his neck, his legs still feeling pretty flimsy. He'll ask Armand to take it easier next month -- not that he expects the vampire actually will.]

[circumitus]

[She watches him for a moment, remembering his mentions of being worn but also something about "feeding". Whatever that means. The mystery doesn't nag at her as much as other things.]

Will you be well enough to walk?

[It would suck if he got himself hurt on his way back to his place on account of his coming to her.]

[tongueamok]

[He nods.]

I simply need a few moments to recover, but I appreciate your concern. I do, uh. Apologize for all the ink.

[circumitus]

[Good. She could probably carry him. Probably. It just might exacerbate her injuries while she's still recovering. Wouldn't want to put Carlisle's work to waste.]

No worries. Am not that much better at the moment. [She indicates the samandrine still on her skin. Between that and the black bile, it isn't like many would even be able to tell the difference.] Need a shower anyway.

[tongueamok]

[He says a 'few moments,' but he means an hour. Maybe two. He might have to call Glacius to come get him.]

What is that, exactly? That black substance?

[Is she cursed, too?]

[circumitus]

[Welp. Not like Rey is going anywhere anytime soon, either. And since Carlisle answered her similar question so kindly...]

Samandrine. [She lifts a hand, black marks still splotched over the surface of her skin.] It's a substance that this vessel secretes to protect itself from extremely high temperatures, though it can also be utilized for other purposes.

[Like protecting her identity when getting too close to a psycho.]

[tongueamok]

[Vessel? Like a ship?]

Is that a trait all pyromancers share where you're from?

[circumitus]

No, am the only one that can do anything like this. [She doesn't say this as if she's special, though. The fact that she is different is why she is about to be cut apart by IV back home.]

And it isn't "pyromancy".

[tongueamok]

[He huffs, uttering, "So you've said," under his breath.

Better just ask what's on his mind, then.]

Are you cursed, then?