Entry tags:
WEEK FIVE MINGLE
nerak: week 5 mingle
at your service
at your service
25 Remain
Waking up this morning will reveal some unfamiliar surroundings. While Camebit had an autumnal chill in the air, things are a little different, now - the air is frigid, and waking up is an adventure, considering you are swaddled to the nines and cozied right up to your roomie of the week (where you have one, anyways). Everything around you is made of ice and packed snow, fogged glass and porcelain, and it is freezing. Who thought this was a good idea? Even the brisk chill of Camebit in the skies above everything was more forgiving than this! This isn't a transition! Whose manager can you speak to..?
About that.

You have to trek out of the lodging, and over into the building made of actual wood and stone, to actually see your Watchers of the week. They're all dressed in their full cloaks again to combat the chill, even in this building, although both Rameel and Satariel are standing much closer to Yomiel than they usually do - much like they had in Ahnkeen, actually.
"Good morning and welcome to Nerak! If you've ever wondered what it was like to stay at an ice hotel, then you're in luck!" Rameel says with moderate flourish as they make sure to keep close to Yomiel—their daemon currently not found anywhere near them as they make the announcement. Looks like they're without their black box of musical wonders this morning.
While the other two Watchers press close, Yomiel's daemon has wrapped itself around their neck like a polecat scarf. Warm. Arm cradled gently against their chest, they pause to glance at Satariel before greeting everyone. "Try to be careful. The ice can get slippery, especially when you're all looking like that and leaving a mess everywhere you go." Whatever that means.
Satariel seems a little more subdued than usual but offers everyone a smile, daemon bear-shaped against their back, large head peering around at everyone while they take in the travelers that come to join them here in the hotel lobby. Their cloak is completely closed around them - not even the front of their dress can be seen, and they're clearly holding it tightly shut. "Please be nice to the hotel staff - if I catch any of you being rude to them, I'll kick you clear across the tundra before sticking you in their outdoor 'jail' for timeout. We're guests, but they're working hard to accommodate us, alright?"

With the new week, travelers will find that they no longer the adorable animal features they did in Camebit, but something much less cute. Injuries from their pasts have come back to haunt them, major or minor, and they cannot be healed. The good thing is that they don't seem to hurt or really take a toll on the travelers at all - at least, not until they're touched, and then both you the other will feel the pain from the moment the wound was inflicted. This effect lasts all week.
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[ He hisses, low and angry. At the very least, Alphinaud will try to make her less... twisty.
And then he looks up. ]
I realize we were supposed to send them to you– [ ... Supposedly... ] –but this cannot wait.
Hang in there, Miss Satariel—I've got you.
[ With his other hand, Alphinaud uses it to hover over her close, and from it a white glow emits. ]
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but that just makes her the perfect patient. no complaints, no fussing, no protesting to send them towards rameel and yomiel. just blessed silence.
until the raven stirs, dust no longer flaking off, and it weakly croaks. its watcher doesn't rouse, but it does - it lifts its head and tilts it to turn a black eye at alphinaud, movements slow, lethargic. dazed. ]
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[ That—that is good news. Alphinaud looks down at the crow in shock as he holds her in place; though he can't do anything for the daemon, at the very least Esmerie can approach, and she gives a low, worried chirp before gently grooming at its feathers. ]
Thank the Twelve... You'll be okay. You'll be okay...
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[ hello, we have gotten a second heal from sholmes, and we are conscious. the raven croaks, a little more alive, itself, and leans into the grooming. thank you sweet carbuncle (?) for your comfort for a tired bird. ]
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Yes. Worry not, Miss Satariel—you're in safe hands now.
[ Indeed, it's carbuncle grooming and snuggling this poor tired birb. ]
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I know. [ there's a crooning from the raven, and it embraces the snuggles. ] Sorry... sorry...
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It is the angels'.
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[ with a tearful hiccup: ] Angels suck.
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... I could not agree more.
[ Wherever her hand is, Alphinaud gives it a gentle squeeze. ]
Are you too weak to stand? We must get you and the others out of the cold.
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Sheba has healing in the Land of the Dead... [ she squeezes his hand back, before more or less taking it, bracing for help up. ] Legs aren't busted. It'll hurt, but I gotta.
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Forgive me—I am not strong enough to lift you, but you may use me for support however far you need. Take it slowly, now.
[ And he is indeed here to assist her. ]
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Just hold tight. [ she is only a little taller than him and alisaie, but she is more plus sized, too, so she knows that he's not going to be able to hoist her up. it's okay.
it hurts. it hurts a lot. but she gets her feet under her by sheer stubbornness. ]
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Alphinaud can tell it's painful, but he's a patient man. If only he could do something for the pain... ]
Easy, easy... There.
If it becomes too unbearable to walk, you need not force yourself, but let's try.