MINI EVENT: SORE LOSER

[sticksandbonesmods]

YOU WIN

Content Warning: Lightning strikes, electrocution. In the first half of the mini event, characters will be under siege by targeted lightning strikes until they attain shelter within the store or inn. Lightning strikes are nonlethal, but painful.

!

VICTORY!

... But not without cost. As the handful of you scatter through the arena, tagging out prisoners or holding your ground against the jailer, some may notice the increasing pain inflicted by an unknown source the better the group does. Eventually, as time runs out, there's a frustrated screech echoing through the air and reverberating in your mind:

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LOSE.

Needless to say, trouble's coming. (Though, what had the Woods expected when the game was so easy? Perhaps it didn't realize how many proficient fighters it had captured.) The air is electric, crackling, before the night sky darkens considerably. There's lightning flashing- and then lightning coming down. All throughout the way home and even into the Grove, lightning strikes with loud cracks and sparks, almost like spears hurtling down with a vengeance.

The strikes, should they land, are nonlethal. But it hurts a lot- and leaves a terribly numbing sensation behind. There's enough time between strikes that you can flee, and both the general store and the inn offer salvation. Rusty stands within the doorway of the inn itself, snarling angrily at the sky, while the shopkeeper... is actually among you, carrying Caoimhe so she can avoid the forest's embrace. Now's not a great time to chat though, honestly.

Better run.

!

AFTERMATH

Hey, you got home safe! Good for you. As the last of you claims shelter, the lightning storm outside devolves into a pure thunderstorm. Rusty has joined you for shelter. Though your body is heavy and numb, there's a feeling that you still have something to do. Thankfully, a few in your number are medics, and another few can cook. Any punishments for playing too well as an individual also linger, much to your dismay. But the first night is over.

Despite the tantrum, the Woods is making do on it's promise, at least: Within every inhabited inn room is a charm made from animal bone or antler. Those who can detect magic will be able to tell: these are lucky charms, and powerful ones at that. But they can only be used once. These charms will allow one instance of changing an undesirable outcome in an event. They can only be used once, and only one character can use one per thread or mission.

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Comments

[simplicitas]

[Narrator: And then Elsword proceeded to not behave for the next couple months...

If Add won't stop him, then Elsword is putting his hair in a full braid. It's not too tight, so not to pull on his scalp, nor is it loose enough to come undone immediately. Add's hair is nice, he thinks; soft and silky against his calloused hands. When he's finished, the knight runs his fingers across the new braid, satisfied, and hums as he places it over Add's shoulder.]

Yes, sir... [It's nearly impossible to get Add to relent on anything anyway, but Elsword often wishes he would. Just one break. One glass of water in the hell-forest, one good night of sleep.] ...but you can come up with ideas while you sleep.

[:)]

[harmacy]

[If the circumstances were a bit better, maybe he would allow himself to drift off to this. Elsword's hands in his hair, tending to his every need... even in this unbearable heat, it's not so bad.

He lets out another tiny, wistful sigh, his hand brushing against the knight's when he reaches up to touch the braid himself. Much better, yes.]

Mm... that would be highly inefficient. I can't work in my sleep. [he's not Noah...] Also, every moment you insist on this is a moment I'm being distracted from my treatment plan. At this rate I won't get any sleep at all. I'll be up working on this all night.

[unstoppable force vs immovable object... just ignore the fact that Add is guaranteed to pass out before Elsword, that's not important, please surrender he is invincible]

[simplicitas]

Heh. Sorry.

[It's the tiniest laugh. It would've been more boisterous a year, two years ago... but it's something, at least. He hasn't entirely forgotten how to laugh, even if the sound is halfway foreign to him now.

Their hands brush together, and Elsword pauses against it on instinct. He blinks, and then slowly flips the position of their hands, fingertips dragging along Add's palm and up to the doctor's own fingers, where Elsword gives them something of a squeeze. They're not holding hands, but they're not not doing that, either.]

I'll sit quietly and let you get back to it, then. Unless you want me to leave?

[Elsword doesn't want to leave, not really, but it's up to Add. Technically, the bed is big enough for two, but Add might also sweat to death.]

[harmacy]

[There's a slight flinch, a crack in his composure, when a passing touch becomes something more. Add's hand goes stiff, suddenly hyper aware of how sweaty his palms must be. Other than that his mind is drawing a blank, and...

well. he's not pulling out of it, so it's... fine? This is fine. Cool.

He quietly tries to clear his throat, and if he so happens to flex his fingers a little in a way that could, unintentionally, be interpreted as returning the gesture, that is purely by coincidence. His eyes stay locked on the holoscreen.]

You can stay, if you want to. It would make it easier if you're available for me to perform additional testing on.

[like... getting him to flex his arms again, maybe...

hmm.]

... thorough testing produces better results, so for that reason... Elsword, please remove your clothing and repeat the experiment one more time.

[simplicitas]

[Remove his—]

All of it? Or just my shirt?

[You want him to be dick-out in front of the forest? On God??

Elsword relinquishes Add's hand back to him and stands. Repeat the experiment he will, say goodbye to your last bastion of sanity the shirt. It's being pulled over his head and left haphazardly on the back of the chair he was using some minutes earlier. If Add needs him to remove anything else, he's going to have to be clear, because Elsword is assuming that the root of the problem is his upper body and not his legs or anything else nearby.

Add is the group doctor, so the state of Elsword's upper body — the scars, both thin and thick, long and short, across his torso — probably isn't all too unfamiliar. It's clear that, since the last time he underwent treatment, some new scars have formed; fractal scars from that lightning he got struck by are clustered around the left side of his body, fading out just underneath his ribs and before his elbow. Like earlier in the "experiment", Elsword stands straight and draws his arms over his head first, then swings his arms in front to do a loose shoulder-stretch.]

It still doesn't hurt. [Thankfully.] Is Dynamo picking anything up?

[harmacy]

Just the shirt is fine. [let's not let ourselves get too carried away... besides, he's a doctor, it's not like anything would surprise him down there.

Elsword's back is a familiar canvas to him, for sure, and he makes quick note of the new additions to the scar map. Some of the older ones have faded nicely, but these newer ones... ugh, it's going to be annoying work. Especially when no one else seems as bothered about these things as Add is, but as far as he's concerned, if it can be fixed then ignoring it is shoddy work. Even on someone like Elsword, who collects new scars like grass stains on a soccer uniform.

But this is a different kind of physical assessment. And even with so many scars covering him... it's not what he'd call ugly. Not on Elsword, at least. Watching how his muscles move under the skin, shifting each mark and imperfection around like a mechanical art piece, each one a story of its own brimming with blood and glory... stories Add can remember clearly, even if the memory has faded els-where. The striking red emblem engraved between his shoulder blades, the way the light catches strangely on its surface sometimes. His eyes are drawn in by the flickers of movement, but it's the muscles that truly demand his attention—in terms of physical prowess, Elsword is undeniably a peak specimen. The balance of proper training, manaflow, diet, and just a dash of that fascinating other-ness from deep within the El, how could an ordinary human like Add even come close to achieving such physical perfection? His fingers twitch, a burning desire bubbling up from deep within his chest. He wants to slice it open and stick his hands inside, blood slick on his bare skin, between his fingers, pull it all apart and put it back together—

fuck. goddamn.

Add fumbles for the cloth, wiping sweat off his forehead.] Something's certainly picking up...



[h

his temperature.]

[simplicitas]

[None the wiser to the fact that his long-time friend wants to wear his skin right now, Elsword continues his light stretches up until Add mentions Dynamo picking "something" up. He has no way to read what's on the holoscreens at this angle, and even if he could, it's not like he knows enough of that scientific mumbo-jumbo to really put two and two together. He goes still either way, turning his head over his shoulder to attempt eye contact. Attempt being the operative term; it's difficult to see like this, and Add is forever buried in his screens.

The fumbling does not go unnoticed. Elsword assumes it has more to do with the fever than any alleged crisis of sexuality on Add's part. Wanting to cut a man open and let his blood ooze down your fingertips, to your wrists, and to the floor is definitely that. Still...]

Wait, really? ...you look bothered. Is it that bad?

[For what it's worth, Elsword is not entirely stupid. Oblivious, yes, but he's not blind to Add's tense posture, nor the troubled expression on his features. For all Add's ability to suppress his reactions to various stimuli, including — apparently — Elsword's back, Elsword possesses the equally-uncanny ability to read him.

Mostly.

Yet he's not onto Add, merely has awareness of when something eats at him. Add does not wear his heart on his sleeve; Elsword has a good-enough grasp on his companion anyway to get a general sense of what he's thinking. There's a certain irony in it, surely.

He dares to pivot on his heel to get a better look. Red cheeks, sweating, pupils dilated... Yep. Elsword must be dying terribly. Why else would Add be unsettled?]

[harmacy]

[He only snaps back to reality when Elsword turns around, their eyes meeting for a split second while that embarrassing look is still plastered all over his face—

Add turns away, head spinning with vile thoughts. With one flick of his hand he summons a dozen unnecessary holoscreens to hide his face behind, catching his breath somewhere between a bestiary of Demon Realm flora and a detailed blueprint of Nasod Inspector. The one screen of Add's physical data is, mysteriously, now absent completely.]

Fever. It's just the fever. [enough of a fever to make Add, of all people, completely lose his cool... he straightens himself back up, shoving all those thoughts to the back of his skull. You're better than this, stay in control, stay calm...]

You're fine, Elsword. There are no unusual readings. I... apologize for causing any undue worry.

[please ignore how he is still hiding behind a ridiculous amount of screens, seriously, one of those is a restaurant menu from Hamel that isn't even close to relevant right now]

[simplicitas]

[...okay, something is Up with Add, and maybe it's not entirely the fever's fault. If Elsword thinks really hard, really reaches down into the muck where his emotions are trapped, he can kind of access the most distant smugness a person can feel. Something is happening with Add, it's clearly his fault, and it's nothing bad... Hm. Hm!

It's too bad a 15 is not a high enough roll with Elsword's -3 obliviousness modifier to really catch on, but something is suspicious in the sudden panic. The Add he knows rarely spooks so severely that he brings up restaurant menus and irrelevant blueprints. While Elsword can kind of understand the Demon Realm flora guide — the parasite from the forest might be similar to something there — he can't wrap his head around the logic of suddenly whipping out a restaurant they went to when they were first passing through Hamel.

Interesting.

Content with the fact that nothing has worsened in the last fifteen minutes, Elsword leans forward and taps a finger against the menu in specific.]

Are you ordering us dinner?

[Bereft of emotions is he, but not so much that he can't be a little shit where it counts.]

Is that my reward for helping with he experiment?

[harmacy]

[Just stay calm, breathe, don't think about anything weird...

Add snorts, the absurdity of this situation making it a touch easier to cope. Finally regaining enough composure to show his face, if not make eye contact... he slides the rest of the screens aside, leaving only the menu. He scrolls down the list of increasingly fancy pizzas.]

I'm afraid we might be outside of their delivery range.

Sorry, my hand slipped. Ah, I really should reorganize some of these files. [you know, when your hand slips and the telepathic robots under your command open up a bunch of random junk? a classic problem.]

As for a reward... normally, you would pay a large sum of money to receive such a detailed physical assessment and treatment plan. For your exemplary behavior, I'll gladly waive that fee for you.

[simplicitas]

[A problem unique only to Add, who will have to cope with Elsword hovering over him and attempting to see the various holoscreens in detail. Where did that one that showed a medical diagram or seven go...? He swears there was one fifteen minutes ago. Add's losing all his unorganized files in the chaos here!]

Wait, [wait what's that about a fee—] you mean if I wasn't obedient, that I'd owe you money?

[Add! That's not fair!! He's your friend!!!]

What forest debt collector were you going to send after me if I couldn't pay?

[Don't look now — Elsword is tucking his arms back behind his head in a casual resting pose, but the shirt is still off and the guns are still out. Godspeed.]

[harmacy]

Oh? Do you think I wouldn't be able to collect it myself?

[He smirks, arms half-folded with one hand to his chin. Add is now trying to make eye contact, but unfortunately, the gun show just opened for business... forgive him if his eyes stray down a little. Stay professional, Add. You can do this. You're in control...]

Lucky for you, I also accept services as payment. Physical labor at your output level is hard to come by. I'm sure I'll find some use for all that stamina.

[... is that Add's medical diagram, minimized to marshmallow-scale by his knee? maybe. possibly.]

[simplicitas]

[What a thing to just say to someone, Add. That's enough to make a boy blush, if said boy weren't too busy thinking about how there's a chance he'll owe Add money and/or heavy lifting. He's 2 for 2 on oblivious.]

Yeah? And what kind of physical labour would you want? You'd definitely enjoy running me into the ground, huh.

[ < /flirting > ]

[harmacy]

[Add opens his mouth as if to answer, but he's already thinking about Elsword doing back-breaking manual labor with his shirt off. All he's been doing today is flexing, but if he was actually using all of his muscles to their fullest extent...

He laughs instead, a nervous chuckle that's a little too squeaky for his tastes. A terribly poor smokescreen to his current state. Might be feeling just... a little dizzy, probably because he's been stewing in his thoughts while magically overheated instead of like. drinking that glass of water that's been sitting there this whole time. He glances at it, pausing for just long enough for Elsword to think he might take it, then goes back to dabbing his forehead with the cloth instead.]

I said I'd waive it, didn't I? We can discuss payment plans when it becomes a necessity. For now, I'm fine without our current arrangement.

[simplicitas]

[Please, please drink your water. He got that special all for you. It had ice in it at one point, but it's half-melted by now.

More importantly (?), Elsword is sitting back on the edge of the bed now. His shirt remains off, because—]

"Our current arrangement" being me with my shirt off?

[Fascinating developments here, truly.]

Okay, sure. I can sit here all night half-undressed if you really want.

[There's that old arrogance of his, showing up when he's got .5 functioning emotions left. At least he means it?]

[harmacy]

That is not the arrangement I was referring to. [WAY too quick on the defense, he's slipping again] The experiment is already done, I never said you couldn't put it back on after. You deciding to walk around topless is unrelated to my request.

[so yeah, that's on YOU for not dressing yourself properly, and nothing to do with Add's wandering gaze. He makes a point to open up Elsword's medical holoscreen again. Hmm hmm hmmmmmmm...]

Your temperature is slightly raised... is that why you're so insistent on this? Really, Elsword. You should know better than to hide your symptoms from me.

It's not high enough to suggest an illness at this time, but make sure to get lots of rest anyway. I'm sure you've over-exerted yourself today already.

[simplicitas]

Wha... is it? Is that because I was stretching?

[No, it's because he's not immune to Add's staring, he's just passively oblivious and the dots haven't quite connected in his brain. When he finally draws a line from point A to point B, it is Over for Add. And there's also something-something stay shirtless to account for. Hm.

Either way, legitimate question on his part. Lads, is it gay to be shirtless with your undressed homie while he suffers from forest-induced heat stroke?]

I'm not trying to hide anything from you. Normally, light stretches don't affect me that much. [Oh well. He shakes his head and changes the topic.] I'll rest after you go to bed for the night, how about?