paradisa | DAY FOUR

[After relieving the Event Horizon of its 'crew', The Lewis and Clark shudders. After all, it suddenly has a lot more weight in it than it's supposed to. The very fabric of space seems to twist and turn around the Event Horizon. Anyone looking through the windows will see the Event Horizon being pulled through a black hole...just as the Lewis and Clark starts to drop downwards.

Moments later, and the Lewis and Clark has crash landed on the grounds of Paradisa, the ship is damaged, but the people inside are safe. The stasis pods have opened up, allowing those who were asleep within them to wake up. And what a sight there is for them to see. The doors open, allowing the survivors of the plot to step outside and regroup. It's time to take stock of injuries, and deal with the loss of those who have died. The dead will have all appeared in the clinic, including those who were sucked into the black hole...well, most of them have]

[[OOC: No sections! Feel free to make your own | PLOT WRAPUP | PLOT CHAT | PLOT HUB]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Maladict has been keeping a wide berth of the ship since it crashed. There's far too much blood, and suddenly getting her powers back after a few days without them has put her senses into overtime.

There is far too much blood here. Still, there are a small handful of people she will still look out for, the people she actually cares about. And Brock is one of them.

So, she carefully walks over, falling into step behind him. Her usual expression of smug superiority gone for one of worry]

Gods, it's worse than I thought.

[Brock is dimly aware that Maladict being around a heavily bleeding person probably isn't a good thing, but. He can't really think about too many things at once right now.

He glances over at her, expression pretty grim. (Grimmer than usual, anyway.)]

I don't even know what the fuck happened. She thought I was going to kill her.

[This is...] I think she's dying.

[It's really not the best place for her to be, but her concern for Brock outweighs her own personal desire of mental stability. She frowns softly]

It sounds like they were seeing things. Hallucinations, you know?

[And boy is she familiar with those. She shifts a little closer, seemingly taking a calming breath, but it's far from it. She's using that nose of hers, catching the scent of Molotov's blood, learning the quiet secrets hidden within the cells.

Her eyes flicker, just for a second, before she pulls herself back. This time she does take a calming breath, quietly putting That Part of her brain safely away in the cage she created for it again before speaking]

There's a lot of really bad wounds here. Some are to the bone, no tissue, no muscle. It's like something's been just...tearing it out of her. She's lost a blood, if we get her to the clinic, and if there are any medics still left alive, she should be able to be saved.

[She makes a soft, confused noise] It's strange. Where the wounds are.

[If only somebody could have snapped them out of it by throwing coffee pots at their heads...

Brock glances back and forth between the two of them a few times, his fingers reflexively curling a little when he realizes what she's doing. Not that he doesn't trust Maladict not to eat his wife; for as long as he's known her, she's seemed pretty dedicated to her little blood abstinence vow thing. But still... he's having trouble thinking logically right now.]

You can tell? [That's a dumb question. He shakes his head and looks forward again at the castle as they continue to head there.]

Strange how?

[She notices the movement and respectfully takes a step to the side, widening the gap between them, not wanting him to feel uneased]

There are some things I can always tell. [It's a good way to know if your meal is going to give you indigestion or not. But she keeps that to herself]

There's no defensive wounds there. You know, hands, so on. Whatever attacked her, it doesn't seem like she put up a fight.

[He's too stressed to feel bad about it now. He'll apologize later, probably awkwardly, and she'll make fun of him for it. A little bit of normalcy sounded nice right about now.

He repeats her almost absently, not really sure what to think about it.] No defensive wounds...

She was pretty far gone when I got to her. Maybe she didn't even know she was being attacked.

[They can be douches to one another then go shoot at things. It'll be nice.

Maladict frowns softly. She's not one to admit she has feelings for anything at the best of times, but this...this has started to show even on her. She even looks...concerned]

It's a heavy possibility.

[If Brock wasn't so out of it right now, he'd say something about that. Whether she's concerned for what the people on the other ship went through or for Molotov specifically, he doesn't know. It probably doesn't matter. Some people died; other people probably got torn up just as badly as Molotov. But he doesn't really give a shit about anyone else right now.

Still, he's actually grateful that Maladict has followed him. He'd probably tell anyone else to fuck off, but she's helping him not totally lose it. Sort of.]

I didn't see if anybody else wound up like this.

[If anything, she owes him that much. He's done the same for her plenty of times]

I didn't see either, but I've been mostly keeping away.

[For their sake, as much as hers. She casts him a look]

She'll get healed, Brock. [She won't say she'll be okay. After all that mess, that is something no one can guarantee ]

Yeah... I sure as hell hope so.

[Because if she doesn't, then he really is going to lose it. And that won't be a good thing for anybody, really.

When they reach the doors to the castle, Brock doesn't pause (wanting to get Molotov to the clinic as quickly as possible, naturally), but he does glance over his shoulder.] Thanks for, uh... walking with me.

[Which basically means she's now free to go where people aren't bleeding if she wants to, he won't be offended.]

[Still she reaches out to put a hand on the top of his arm (about as high as she can reach without standing on tip-toe) casting him a concerned look. He meant a lot more to her than she was willing to admit, and seeing him like this was worrying her.

But she knows she can't stay here. They've had enough trauma, they don't need any more given to them by herself]

Let me know if you need anything.

[#vampire problems

Brock just nods and heads inside. He'll send her a thank-you card stuffed with coffee beans later, when he doesn't feel like his brain is about to turn off completely.]

DAY FOUR - THE END

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