and all of us go down slow - CLOSED

[wroughtandtempered]

WHO: Eve and various CR
WHAT: heart! games! heart! games!
WHEN: starting July 27
WHERE: inside...?
WARNINGS: warnings will be in comment headers

The first sign that something is wrong is the chill. Fingers and toes rapidly numb; the summer’s warmth becomes a dim, far-away thing, as though a cloud had passed over the sun. Soon it stops reaching you at all. No matter what you try, you can’t seem to get warm— and as the cold deepens and becomes bone-deep, your breath starts to come out in puffs of fog.

Rather than fading, it lingers, the mist growing thicker and thicker with each breath. As your vision goes white and your numb body starts to slump to the floor, you can hear—

Comments

[wroughtandtempered]

[ a beat while she processes that, and then she whines, the sound pitching into something very similar to the "I'm here, hurting, help me" call she'd demonstrated before. it does not take a genius to figure out this one's for physical rather than emotional pain, particularly when she follows it up with a very plaintive and slightly slurred: ]

My fucking head.

[happydreamed]

Ah, excuse me.

[Healing song it is, then! In addition to cleaning up physical wounds it also lessens pain, so.]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ that does at least take enough of the edge of the migraine trying to bash her head in that she can open her eyes without it feeling like the light's stabbing them. blessed Kantera, she's getting him tea for that alone.

...when she can. uh. limbs again. shit this would be way more alarming if it weren't a distinctly different kind of woozy-headed feeling than being drugged. ]

Have I mentioned you're the best... fuck. What the fuck.

[ she is making a wobbly attempt at getting her legs under her, but it's... not great. ]

[happydreamed]

Take your time - I can't imagine how disoriented you must be at the moment.

[gently fuss,]

[wroughtandtempered]

Feels like... drugs? Not drugs? Some shit—

[ wait. wait wait wait what the fuck. not only has something gone suspiciously silent, she actually fucking noticed on her own that it's not piping up. ]

—where the fuck's the mindfuck?

[happydreamed]

You had a heart game while you were asleep.

[wroughtandtempered]

[ . . .

yeah fuck legs. she's giving back up on legs. no legs, only flop ]

[happydreamed]

Would you like to be pet?

[wroughtandtempered]

[ give her like. another moment, sorry

...okay ]

I. Yeah. I think. ... also off the stairs. Maybe?

[ her voice is starting to go a little raspy, and she rubs clumsily at her face, confused ]

[happydreamed]

Understood. Up you go.

[Spring powers boost to his strength, and then he's carefully scooping her up off the stairs. This must look incredibly comical considering how much bigger she is than him - even with him lifting her her tail probably drags on the floor - but it'll do for carrying her to the living room and gently depositing her on a couch.]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ ...she does her best to help where she can, but oh boy. and of course it isn't until they're most of the way there that it occurs to her she could have shifted. rip. ]

Thanks—

[ it comes out choked, whistly with another whine, and she goes from confused to absolutely baffled ]

Why am I—?

[ nope only whimpering now ]

[happydreamed]

Easy now.

[Once she's safely on the couch, she'll be getting some gentle pets, with him softly singing 'enemies routed' once again.]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ whines back, overlapping him. this time it is the "emotional pain" variant of "I'm hurting", even as she pulls herself slowly into a loaf. what the fuck is going on upstairs ]

[happydreamed]

[pet pet pet pet pet pet

He will absolutely sit here and sing to her and pet her for an hour or more, don't think he won't. As long as it takes to help her calm down.]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ she gives herself all of five minutes, because she's herself. in between hiccupy whistles: ]

Sorry. Don't know why I'm—

[ well. heart game, he'd said, and while there's intense worry somewhere in the migraine mess she also just feels... very warm. loved, to the point of feeling tender and bruised about it. ]

Someone did something. I think.

[happydreamed]

I'm afraid I'm not as experienced with these as you are, but... if there's a bad change, will it wear off on its own?

[wroughtandtempered]

Don't know. ...Depends, I think. [ which is a scary-ass thought that she happily lets slip out of awareness, for now. ] But it doesn't feel bad.

Just... a lot.

[happydreamed]

I see. Then - take all the time you need, and you don't need to apologize for being emotional.

[Not that she ever does, but this time she really doesn't.]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ GRUMBLY WHINY NOISE as she squints her eyes shut again. what if... not weird feelings she can't identify the source of, though? fuck. ]

[happydreamed]

It will pass, at least. I'm sorry I can't do more.

[wroughtandtempered]

[ slowly ]

...You already did something. Didn't you?

[ if he knows about the heart game, he was probably in it. right? ]

[happydreamed]

Well - yes, of course. -I heard you calling me for help, how could I not?

[wroughtandtempered]

[ ... she turns and shoves her muzzle into his hands ]

[happydreamed]

[The petting will continue until morale improves.]

As I've said, I - we want to help.

[wroughtandtempered]

[ someday she will teach you about muzzle grabs, Kantera. ]

I know. ...I know. Still. ...Thank you.