Open Fever heat

[Wyatti]

Wyatti held onto her conscious as firmly as she could, but all the noise was far too much for her. She could barely breathe, her lungs growing tight, the temperature refusing to break. Her little hands reached out once more, to grab at the man. It was important for her to do so, to be wrapped in his warmth, to be close, but something was holding her back. She needed to get away. But only a whimpered cry escaped her lips. Heat controlled her, a more basic level as her mind searched for the key to getting to him. It would be safe with him after all.

A word, a name, it came to her, his name was uttered and once more the Kelvic tried to move, before her mind slipped and tumbled back down. Was she passed over? Was she not? She wanted to speak to him, to tell him again and again. For it was the simplicities of a child that made her believe she had done wrong, that she had upset him. Wyatti never wanted to do wrong after all. The heat grew intense, the Kelvic felt herself grow tight, a gasp for air before she slumped once more, her body growing still.

It would be so easy to surrender to the fever heat. To let all the senses go, to let one’s self dip into the darkness, and be to swallowed whole. To not think of the suffering, or the worries too. To only know that you would be forgiven, for letting go too soon. But Wyatti knew it was not time, right?

[Philomena]

The whole situation had been building, collapsing on Minnie - she cowered beneath it. On the one hand, her desire to help the girl is genuine, deep and powerful now with the rush of the situation. She looked down at the girl's face, her blind eyes melting into a tender fear. But on the other, this was all wrong - they were taking the man's word so easily, he would carry the child, he would take them to his home, he had all the power, in her mind.

She shuddered, holding the girl. The wind tugged at her bare collarbones, and sent the shudder into a shiver. //You are not a hero, Minnie Lefting// her mind murmured back to her, //What are you doing? You're not a hero, you're a damned university professor, you're nothing. What do you think you're even doing trying to help? You're probably only making things worse.//

She looked imploringly at the smear of olive skin, of dark hair, that made up the savage woman, wordless, unfocused pleading in her face. But it lasted only a second - the power of the situation overwhelmed her, and her eyes fell to the frigid flesh at the top of her own breasts, shivering wetly against the rusty black fabric of her dress.

The girl shifted, moved, reached out, uttered a name. The child was weak, yes, but Minnie had her arms wrapped around the girl, felt the shifts, the reach, the yearning of her burning little body. And her eyes filled with something, not simple sadness. Something else, that surprised her, that made her ashamed: defeat.

She said nothing, still, merely nodded, a heavy nod. She loosened her grip on the child, but did not set her down again on the ground, only waited for her to be taken, only stood still and waited. The weight of the girl shifted limply in her arms, and Minnie adjusted her cloak about the girl, with a whimpering croak of a voice, shaken by impending tears.

"Alright, then, girlie. Alright then... we'll... get you inside, we will... alright then... shh... We'll get you to... your friends then, girlie..."

[Valo]

Wyatti whispered a name, though his ears could not quite make out the particular sounds from the mumble of a feverish child. He smiled a little at the older woman as she spoke words of comfort to his beloved little friend. Though he failed to pay very much attention to her or the other woman. The primary thought was to get Wyatti home and to combat that fever of her's. Ever so gently he scooped her up in his arms, holding her close close to his chest and resting her forehead against the frosty cold of his cheek. Perhaps that would help just a little and if not then she'd at least know he was with her and he would protect her, perhaps like an older brother or a loving parent would. She was still so little. "This way." he said simply and began walking towards the dock, trusting that the women would fallow. Quickly leaving the ominous shroud of East Street behind, they entered a small alley up from the docks and in a matter of minutes they found them selves in one of the residential quarters of Zletiva. It took another small alley and the turning of a corner into a street lined with cottages of granite, and they had made it. "My dear." he spoke, addressing the older woman, for he knew not her name. And pointing a little awkwardly, holding tight onto the feverish girl he said. "The house is just that one at the end of the road. May I ask you to quickly go to the medic and bring him here, whilst we go and bring the girl into the warmth? If you get lost simply ask for the red haired artist, the neighbours will guide you." Saying that he looked to the Myrian woman, hoping she'd accompany him. Valo begged fate that Lance was home, for the black haired friend would be a great help at this time of distress. Perhaps he'd know something about caring for sick children, for if not, Valo's own memories of all the times he'd been sick and his mother had cared for him had to suffice.

[Ayatah]

Ayatah watched the child reach out and speak with a casual coolness. She had no emotional ties to the girl - no more than she did any ill child. It was a sad situation, yes, but Ayatah’s heartstrings remained perfectly intact. The older woman, however, seemed entirely moved by the child’s weakened attempt to speak; her eyes seemed to swell with tears and sadness and… something else.

The redheaded male seemed to have completely changed, from being aloof and separate to being softer and caring. It was both touching and suspicious - but he did seem to genuinely care for the girl on the ground. Ayatah swallowed her suspicion and stepped aside for the man to get to the child easier.

When he gathered the small child in his arms and walked off, the Myrian followed. Ayatah did not know the route that they were taking, but it resulted in them reaching the residential areas of the city. They hovered outside a place, and the redhead gave the older woman some instructions.

Ayatah didn’t move, but when the man looked at her, she returned his gaze with a questioning look. ”How do you know the girl?” She asked; it had been a question that had been on her mind for a while, and now that the redheaded gentleman had decided what to do with the child, Ayatah assumed there must be some bond between them.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Wyatti]

Wyatti’s mind calmed when she found the scent of oils and paint, the cool touch that seemed to break down through the fever. She felt safe, secure in the arms of the one she wanted. But still her breathing remained heavy as she was cradled and protected from the outside world. Where ever she was taken was a mystery, voices were exchanged once more, a jumble of noise that existed beyond her consciousness. If it was the voice of assistance or of danger, it mattered little to the Kelvic now.

Her head rested against him, with no signs of waking any time soon. Perhaps indeed it was for the better for it concerved her strength and removed her from the events that were occurring around her. But in another it was potential dangerous, one who remained unconscious had no real way of alerting the world of the true nature they were in. And so Wyatti’s fever continued to burn through, a heat that was like fire itself to those who touched her. Unknowingly her little hands gripped onto the front of the artist, a weak but desperate cling. It was the only animation her body could muster, but it was these small subtle movements that would let him know that she was hanging on. Barely.

[Philomena]

The air was chill and cruel - it had been the whole time, but then, she had been wrapped tight in a coat, before, and then afterwards, Minnie had held the scorched body of the little girl. The burden was lifted from her, and it left behind a hollow sweatiness on Minnie's skin.

She looked at the man again, at the way the girl curled into him, and then turned away, her whole body a slack, shivering image of failure, downcast eyes, slumped and huddled shoulders.

The man spoke, gave her orders, and she gnawed on them. She still felt a great suspicion toward the cruel fellow, one probably not made easier by her resentment of the way the girl took such obvious comfort from him. She bit back her words, though. //The savage woman, she is right. My voice isn't doing any good for the girl.//

She stepped back, closer to the wall, now, and looked to her, to the savage, cool, controlled. She knew, in her brain, that her reason was not in this situation, that her opinions were the opinions of fear, shock, and of the long grooves of her own predispositions and worries, and this surety was comforting, it made her feel that at least someone was here to clean up after her.

Her own internal narrator crashed further, further, further down, something in the situation crawling deeper and darker into her brain, leaving her in a personal gloom with a pathological suddenness.

//Can we manage that at least, Minnie? You are no hero, can you at least run along and be an errand girl? The gods are putting me back in my place, I suppose.//

She pulled her arms around her tightly, and watched the savage, waiting, to see the man's answer, to see if the savage accepted this as the right course, but she was already tending away, backing up, withdrawing with the long practice of someone who grapples with fits of a desperate wish to be unnoticed. She knew that it would go. The savage was merely confirming her acceptance of the situation now. She began to think of who would be the closest Middie to wake.

[Limey]

Philomena Skill and Lore Rewards Skills Lore Observation 3 Seeing Yourself In The Needy Rhetoric 2 A Myrian: Natural Enemy Persuasion 1 How Good Can You Bluff? Medicine 1 A Hatred Of Bullies Investigation 1 A Hatred Of Time-Wasting Planning 1 Getting Some Warmth Back... The Crushing Pressure Do Not Fall In Zeltiva... Valo Skill and Lore Rewards Skills Lore Observation 3 The Sick Had Priority Intimidation 2 You Picked The Wrong Child... Negotiation 2 Lore: Cheat Rhetoric 1 A Hatred Of Time-Wasting Planning 1 Imparting Information To Gain Trust Necessity: Carrying The Load Wyatti: A Strong And Strange Bond Ayatah Skill and Lore Rewards Skills Lore Observation 3 Learning Language Through Immersion (And Gossip) Intimidation 2 The Predictability Of Bigotry Persuasion 1 A Good Plan Is A Good Plan (No Matter Who Has It) Rhetoric 1 Villains Always Appear As Heroes Investigation 1 Valo: A Marked Change Additional Notes : Wyatti, lemme know if you come back, so I can give you your grade for this. I liked this, guys. It didn't flow as well as it could have in places, but the clash of personalities was very cool. If only the clash of writing styles hadn't been so abundant. But, you all did good work, and it was nice to see the gradual progression for universal mistrust to grudging cooperation. Just a shame it WAS such an abrupt ending. But, hey, ya got something out of it... Any questions or queries, please PM me.