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Post by Vicorva on Oct 1, 2008 15:49:35 GMT
Semira slid lower onto the floor, until she was lying on her uninjured side. She closed her eyes, and let unconsciousness take her. If she didn't bleed to death during the sleep, she might be able to heal herself up. If not: well, it was a healthier death than she could have hoped for...
OOC: Sorry for the short post, but Semira needs tending/sleep. *shrugs*
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 1, 2008 16:13:38 GMT
Perur wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings, he seemed to be absolutely fascinated with the planking above him, his gaze drifting lazily along the wood grains, tiredly counting just how many lines there were in the wood above him. Thus far, he had gotten to thirty million. Though that may be because of his inability to actually count straight right now.
Unaware that Semira was unconscious, he slowly opened his mouth, licking his lips with a quick flick, as he had done so many times previous. "You know... I didn't use to be afraid of water. When I was a kid, I used to love just sitting on the edge of the bridges in Balmora, and watch the river as it passed by me so lazily. I used to think that a river must be the freest thing in the world, just so lazily moving along its own path, wherever it wanted to go. In the end, it would wind it's way along the ground, until it reached the sea, where it would be completely free for the rest of time. The ocean's a big place... And that water must have infinite places to go in it."
He chuckled, aimlessly rolling his head slightly to look at a slightly different spot on the ceiling above him. "I actually used to have dreams about being a part of that river... I hated where I was, hated being forced to remain with my father... And so that river offered me a chance for freedom. Eventually, I wanted to build a boat or something, and just let it take me to the sea, and to freedom. Hehe... Funny how little dreams like that change."
"My dad, he loved his sujamma. He loved his flin. Hell, he loved anything that could make him forget about my mom for a few moments. And, as a result... He was cruel. I hated that man... Hated him with a passion..." He rambled on, his gaze unfocused. "Did you have anyone that you couldn't stand in your life, Semira?" He inquired, finally letting his head fall completely to one side, to gaze at the bejewelled Dunmer woman.
He paused when he realized that she was asleep, her gleaming eyelids falling so peacefully over those red eyes of hers... She looked almost relaxed, like the events of the day had never happened. Indeed, the strangely exotic woman looked as though she should never be woken up, just left to be so peaceful. This caused Perur to let out a small, barking laugh, watching the dunmer woman sleep for a few moments.
"Oh... Well, nevermind then..." He muttered to himself, letting his gaze linger on her. Though watching her sleep only made him realize just how tired he was... Both mentally, and physically. Blood loss tended to do that. His gaze swam for a moment, as he let out a small yawn. The planks beneath him were so cool... So refreshing, after such a hectic morning. "You have the right idea..." He muttered lazily, as his eyes slowly drifted closed.
He muttered some more words, but they were unintelligible as he joined Semira in sleep. Perhaps, his dreams would be safer than his life was turning out...
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Post by FC4 on Oct 2, 2008 23:54:05 GMT
Wildman He scrambled up to the boat, reaching his thin, dirtied arms over the boards that made a floor for the ship house, and lifting himself with ease onto the inner hull proper. He hastily untied the rope, fingers moving with a distinctly non-wild dexterity, before putting it between his teeth and leaping off the edge, jumping up and grasping a support beam near the top of the ship, just below the upper deck. He swung the rope over the jutting edge of the wood and pulled it, causing the length of coiled rope below to jolt up and the slack to fall to the ground. He fit the rope nicely into a smoothed rivet in the wood, and then swung down from it to land on the lower deck once more.
His sapphire eyes looked at the two figures there, regarding them slowly. Both of them were wounded badly, but the girl looked to be bleeding worse than the man. And so, the ragged and dingy human made his way to a barrel, plucking the top off and peeking inside. He picked out a long strip of cloth as dingy and unclean as he was, and nodded with satisfaction, topping the barrel. Then he moved over to the woman, and shook his head.
"Won't do, won't do. Metal skin in way. Skin must come off first." He muttered to himself, moving to her belt and undoing it, before proceeding to undress the woman completely. Out of everything, however, it was the silk shirt he stared at for some time; the amulet around her neck. One hand reached out and he gently touched it, rubbing his calloused thumb over the engraved coat of arms.
"Chey-din-hal." He sounded out the word, as if remembering something long forgotten, and then he proceeded to lift her thigh, and wrap it with the cloth tight enough to prevent the bleeding, but not become a tourniquet. If he held any sort of interest in her naked form, he made no external sign of such. He did seem to understand basic decency, however, as he laid her silk shirt over her body, then shook his head and tossed it atop her things. "Too short. Need long. Old shirt long 'nough. Sparkling-elf-woman-Semira short. I tall." He explained his reasoning to himself as he moved to what might have once been a captain's dress cabinet. Now it was in tatters, beaten up and worn out. He opened it with a creak, pulling out a silken violet shirt from within that had silver trimmings. It was becoming somewhat threadbare and thin, but it would work. The wild man quickly put it on her, ensuring it reached past her hips, and then moved on to give the man the same treatment.
By the time he was finished, dusk was approaching, and both survivors had been stripped, tended to, and reclothed; Semira in the long shirt, and Perur in one of the Wild man's extra loin cloths. Then, he set about mixing herbs in a mortar in pestle as his patients slept.
OOC: I'll send the the sleepers PMs soon for their dreams.
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 4, 2008 23:44:56 GMT
There was a sound, many sounds, all around him. There seemed to be no rhythm to the sounds, no sort of beat like music. But the sounds came slowly, then left, followed by the same sound but slightly different, coming only once, or maybe as a pair, or a triplet. Perur couldn't tell. Fear gripped his heart at the sound, unsure of whether or not he wanted to actually open his eyes or not, not trusting the sound's origin to be friendly. After how things had been going, he was almost certain of it... Yet, his eyes seemed to push up on their own, resisting his urge to keep them closed.
When he opened his eyes, Perur was on a ship. That same ship that was captained by Murry. Only it was in a single piece, not a wreckage. For a brief moment, Perur was confused, finding that he wasn't lying down at all, but remaining standing, with his hands gripping the railing. Upon the realization that he was safe, however, relief flooded through his body, the assassin relaxing slightly as he thought upon the hell that he had gone through on that island. Was that island all a dream? Something that his mind had come up with, with the water so close? Perur looked to the crew, then to the captain at the rudder wheel. Slowly, Perur allowed a smile to pull at his lips, happy to see the captain alive and well.
Murry smiled back, but something seemed... liquidy about that smile. "You better learn to swim, boy. And quick." The words were not in a Redguard accent, but Imperial, and gruff. And familiar. Surprise flared through Perur's eyes at the words, jerking enough that the railing bumped against his hip, pain shooting through him. An injury? But... But, he had gotten that on the island not here... Which meant... Fear gripped Perur's heart, as he looked on helplessly.
Murry began to change, his colors bleeding away from him as he became transparent as water. Perur looked fearfully to one side, to see the rest of the crew had done the same, becoming beings of water rather than men. Perur felt a cry rising in his throat at the sight of them, surrounded on all sides by water. Not only was he on a boat, surrounded by the ocean which would likely kill him just as quickly as these things, but now his hated element had crawled up on the boat with him... All hope was lost... All of them began to slide towards him on wet feet. He wanted to scream, wanted to flee, but as the cry rose ever higher in his throat, he felt it hit something almost like a wall in his throat, squeezing tight.
Desperate to find somewhere to flee to, Perur looked behind him over the rail to the water below, only to have it burst upwards, a female figure forming from the top of the pillar of water. He recognized this woman... He recognized her from the river on that thrice damned island... She had come to him, she had come to finish the job now, when she had missed him at the river.
She opened her translucent mouth, and shrieked down at the assassin. Her shriek was joined by Perur's scream, as at last his throat allowed the sound past...
And, in the world of those awake, Perur sat straight up with a scream that echoed through the decrepit ship, screaming until he couldn't anymore, and his voice gave out. Shaking and shivering, Perur slowly leaned himself forward to rest his forehead against his knees, squeezing his eyes shut. It was a dream... It was a dream... But why did it have to happen NOW, when he was already scared enough? Why did it have to overload his mind NOW?
A single tear squeezed past the corner of his left eye, gleaming as it ran down his cheek and onto his knee. Yet Perur did not actually cry, simply remained with his head buried against his knees, his voice carefully stilled as he tried to get his emotions under control once more. Slowly, he was beginning to crack... If his fear kept up in the way that it was, he didn't know how much longer he would be able to go, or how much rest he would be getting...
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Post by FC4 on Oct 4, 2008 23:56:52 GMT
OOC: All nightmare PMs have been delivered. It is now dawn. People can still join in!
IC: But the truth was, Perur had been sleeping through the night. The nightmare had come just as Dawn was soon to approach, and the Wild man who had saved him the day before was standing now at the entrance of the boat house, where there was no door. When the assassin screamed, the man turned sharply, as if ready to attack, but his spear remained on the ground like a staff.
Considering the state Perur was in, it was remarkable that he walked so calmly over to Perur, and knelt on the floor in front of him. For a time the man was silent, but when he spoke his sapphire eyes seemed to be analyzing Perur. "Second always worse, three times maybe better, if approached properly." He muttered, forgetting to include a subject within his sentence. Reaching for something nearby, he pulled up a leather flask and held it out to Perur.
"Drink." It was a grunted order, and not a suggestion. But with the closeness and stillness of the wild man for the first time since meeting him, one could get a really good look at what shone brilliantly about his neck. A golden amulet, inset with a ruby, in the shape of the Diamond Dragon. Putting the flask beside Perur he rose and moved to one of the decrypt tables, shifting through the herbs.
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Post by Vrek on Oct 5, 2008 7:17:02 GMT
The pain was dull, but still there in the very back of his mind. Jacen could not hide from it, there was no way to hide from it. Even in what should have been a peaceful land of dreams, he felt his own pain. The darkness around him, it was his pain.
New pain rose when something placed a vice grip on his ankles, and Jacen opened his eyes quickly to see the humanoid figure of sand from the beach, rising up from the forest leaves. It was faceless, merely a smooth curve of face where the cheeks, nose, and chin would be, to resemble a drawn head with no facial details. He could see the individual grains of sand swirling within the being, as hands gripped his ankles. Jacen became silent, steeping backwards, trying to pull his leg away.
It pulled back. He lurched forward as the figure pulled him further, sinking itself into the ground, and taking him with it, to be buried beneath the fallen leaves in a tomb of sand.
A startled gasp erupted from the Bosmer, with it came a vision of the dirt beneath him. Instinctively, he push up, and flipped himself over. A pain in his ribs flared with the motion, leaving a gasping Jacen on the ground. He ground his teeth together, and forced his eyes open.
Morning sunlight shot through the breaks in the foliage, bright beacons, in a dank forest. It gave the forest a calm, serene, picturesque feel. Many a painter would enjoy this scene. But Jacen couldn't. He had one hand on his side, and used the other to push himself against a tree trunk, eyes flicking wildly around.
There didn't seem to be that sand demon, nor anymore armadas of mudcrabs. What happened after that? He couldn't recall. The ground was covered with a thin trail of blood droplets, with a bigger pool where he had been lying. A wipe across his forehead brought down a thick layer of dried blood caked with dirt. With a groan, the small thief leaned back against the tree.
He didn't know how long he was sitting there, but sit there he did. He did not even think during this time.
A bird was the first that broke his half-consciousness. Atleast he thought he heard a bird. It wasn't like a normal temperate twittering, but odder. Jacen pushed himself up, crying out at the sudden burning in his side once again. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to stand, and began pushing through the foliage, in the direction opposite of the blood trail.
In the back of his mind, he knew that this could just be another deathtrap, but he didn't care. He needed to find shelter, food, water, or even help from one of the animals, if he could find one that wasn't trying to kill him.
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RavenVW
Novice
I am an agent of chaos. And you know the good thing about chaos? It's fair.
Posts: 45
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Post by RavenVW on Oct 6, 2008 15:28:37 GMT
Valkien The gorge was tall and long, spanning to his left and right. The left seemed to curve away in the distance, sloping upwards to hills. The right seemed to lead to level ground, however, dipping downward into a jungle And in the center of it all, right in front of him, was the rising slope of a volcano. It rose gradually here, enough that one could climb with some slight difficulty. But it seemed to lean slightly towards the forest, growing steeper. More rocks shifted in the distance. Valkien decided to go right, where the ground was most even and would be less of a struggle for him to go across, despite all of his problems right now, he still wanted to make life as easy as possible for himself. He didn't notice the movement of rocks in the distance, well, he did, but he told himself it was his mind playing tricks with him. He was tired and thirsty, of course it was just his mind. OOC: Short, crappy post, but just plodding along at the moment.
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 12, 2008 20:34:06 GMT
A voice, gruff yet soft, calls out, and Semira hears it's single word, slowly pronounced. "Chey-din-hal." Semira twitched in her sleep, and rolled over. She was deep into unconsciousness, but that dark part of her mind that never slept questioned: Who was that? But the dream had already taken her. That single word brought forth the image of the town itself, its grandly built structures and pristine white coloration. Semira was standing on one of the three wooden bridges that crossed the brook dividing the city. It was peaceful, with the birds chirping and plants swaying in the breeze. Feeling a sudden urge to sing, Semira began to do just that. She couldn't remember ever having felt so calm, so at peace. Cheydinhal was certainly the grandest of all cities, the most beautiful. She closed her eyes as she sang, revelling in the gentle breeze as it slid against her skin, cool and soft like her mother's touch so very long ago.
I hope this never ends... she thought.
But her song was cut short by a deafening blast, and when she turned to look the tower of the chapel crumbled in on itself. It lurched, groaned, and then fell forward into the plaza before it, crushing the single statue there. Semira screamed as she watched it fall, and ran towards it as fast as she could desperate to save the statue, to somehow push the building back, and to save the many people who would die painfully beneath it. Another streak of fire filled the sky, coming from the west, and obliterated an entire top section of the castle. Her heart prompted her to scream again, but she was suddenly still, standing tranfixed by the flaming sky, transfixed in equal parts horror... and intrigue.
"Such power..." she whispered. "The power to take away... the power to destroy beauty..."
She looked now at the wreckage of her once beautiful home and a crooked smile cut across her lips. She saw now that it too was beautiful... the destruction far more interesting to her eyes, like abstract art, like schroedinger's cat.
And then the gates of the city burst in, as a troop of Dremora in full armor rushed the citizens, slaying without hesitation.
She wanted to run away from them, wanted to escape from all they were, but once more, something held her in place. She watched, eyes wavering, as her brother ran up to them, and he was cut down where he stood.
Tears filled her eyes and she was suddenly released from whatever spell held her. She turned and ran, but there was laughter behind her. A hand gripped her arm tightly, causing fire to bloom all along it, but it did not burn her dunmer skin. She turned to spit defiantly in the face of her fear, in the face of the dreadful creatures that had destroyed the once beautiful Kvatch, even as she as there as a child, but a dark blade was brought to her throat, cutting into her skin. She tried to scream again, but it was cut short.
Surely she should be dying now, surely she should be dead? Blood gurgled up through her throat to spatter onto the face of the dremora, who only laughed more, and the pain was excruciating-Semira screamed hoarsely, the force of it ripping her throat painfully. Her eyes were still squeezed shut as she screamed, trapped by the dreamworld she was in. OOC: Sorry FC. I took liberties with the dream, but I was having serious problems overcoming the whole 'this is what you post' business, as well as finding it hard to get into this RP. If it's too awful, I'll edit, I promise.
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Post by FC4 on Oct 13, 2008 15:25:52 GMT
OOC: Actually... that was quite good. No need to worry, you're getting the hang of it. IC: The wild man sighed as another scream filled the dawn air, a female one, and he turned from the table with the mortar in his hand. Still holding it he walked up to the injured mer on the floor, bent onto one knee, and and shook her shoulder gently. "Sparkling-elf-woman-Semira, it a dream!" The Wild man snapped at her, hoping his loud voice would wake her from the dream and bring her into reality. He turned to look to Perur. "Man, bring water here. Sparkling-elf-woman-Semira's throat hoarse."
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 14, 2008 2:13:42 GMT
Perur hardly even noticed the amulet that the wild man had been wearing, though even if he had noticed, it was doubtful that Perur would have cared anyway. His gaze was locked on the flask that he held in his hands, gazing blankly at its surface as though if he looked long enough, it would begin to speak and tell him what he should do from here. What he should feel, how he should act, what he could do in order to survive in this place, survive where water could rise up against him, where it could swallow him...
He tilted the flask slightly to get a small glimpse of the shimmering liquid within, feeling his heart hammering just from the sight of something liquid. Though he didn't think the wild man would have given him anything that would kill him... The mere thought of what could befall him made Perur shudder. The thought of taking a drink, then having the water squirm to life inside of him... Having him roll on the ground in agony as his insides were shredded by blades of liquid fury, slicing through him mercilessly as that velvety liquid twisted and turned inside of him, slaying him in a most painful way...
His eyes began to squeeze shut, only to snap back open at Semira's hoarse yell. Slowly, Perur turned his gaze towards the Dunmer woman, now considerably less clothed which would normally get a much more favorable reaction out of the assassin, to lock on her face. She was being tormented by the nightmares that tore Perur apart... So it seemed he at the least wasn't alone in the suffering. Even though that strange man had mentioned something about his second nightmare being the worst, so apparently he too had knowledge...
His gaze slowly returned to the flask, returning to staring blankly at it, pondering on what he should do. Where he could go, to get off of this cursed island... But to do so, he would need help...
"Try to keep her from screaming too much, it'll hurt her throat." Perur muttered lightly, as he turned and crawled over to Semira's side, taking the flask that he had been asked to drink from and tipping it to Semira's lips instead. His hand set itself against the smooth skin of Semira's jaw, pushing her mouth up to wrap her lips around the flask's spout despite her screaming. Foolish woman... She shouldn't be damaging her throat...
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 14, 2008 9:15:09 GMT
When the water was poured down Semira's throat, she coughed at the sudden liquid there, some of it going down the wrong way. That was enough to wake her from her dreaming, however. She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at Perur's face. Shaking in memory of the nightmare, a frown creased her brow.
"Singing?" she demanded of nobody in particular, her voice still a little hoarse. "What the hell? Nightmares are scary on more than one level..." As ever, she shied away from her true feelings, and acted as if she was alright, but her shakin declared otherwise. It showed her to be a terrified but extremely stubborn woman.
She sat up, finding the wildman next to her. Her legs were colder than usual, and, looking down, she found that they were quite a bit more bare than they had been before- as wsa the rest of her, with only a long and very thin shirt draping against her body.
Still, her wounds had been tended, and that was a blessing. "Er... thanks?" she said, quite self-conscious about her lack of clothing. "I seem to be... er... not wearing very much..." she said this as if she was thinking, hard. To cover for her momentary set-back of self-consciousness, she added. "Oh wait. For a moment there I forgot I was beautiful. This is fine." She gave a shaky and somewhat confused smile, and turned to Perur. "Did he-" she began, before noticing Perur's relative nakedness.
Ah! she yelled mentally, once more surprised. She quickly moved her eyes from Perur's chest to his face. Though she had been embarassed, she did not blush. It had been more interesting than embarassing. "I suppose he did," she answered herself.
And then, she gave up trying to be tough. She put her head in her hands and allowed herself to shake and try and get over the horrible images she had just seen.
And worse... the feelings that had accompanied it.
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Post by FC4 on Oct 15, 2008 1:09:46 GMT
JacenThe morning light barely pierced the forest canopy above the Bosmer, but there seemed to be an odd quality to that light, an intriguing sparkle. The odd chirp of the bird continued, and if Jacen were to follow it, he would eventually find himself before a forest brook. And on the other side of the brook sat the source of the odd sound. It was a bird like no other, looking akin to a peacock. But the neck was longer, thicker, and ended in a noble swan's head. The feathers were the colors of the visible light spectrum, and the colors seemed to change as the light moved across their surface, changing tone and hue depending on the angle of view. The bird chirped as it sat there, looking peaceful and harmless. ValkienEven after nightfall when Valkien had stopped to rest (OOC: Just to keep you with us in time scale, Raven. ) the rocks seemed to always shift about him, making cracking and shifting sounds with no end in sight. As a result he'd gotten next to no sleep, and therefore did not dream. he simply continued his walk as the sun rose slowly on the horizon. He didn't get far, though, before the rocky area began its musical anew. The frequency of the cracking increased, and a rumble cut through the air, cut short by an abrupt crack. Eerie silence followed, before another crack, then another and another. If Valkien turned towards the sound, he would find the ground on the path he'd once walked in an upheaval of cracking stones, rising erratically in jagged sections of earth. This sped towards him before stopping, everything falling silent. Wild Man The man watched Semira as she spoke, and nodded when she commented about her clothing. "I try to find something that fit, so you not show elf-woman bits to man if not want to. Skins no good, they got in way. When healed, they can go back on. For now, Sparkling-Elf-Woman-Semira and Scaredy-man wear this." He explained as if what he was saying made perfectly logical, coherent sense. While it wasn't completely illogical, it was certainly not on the coherent side of discussion. Without another word he moved back to the table and continued his work on the mortar and pestle. "Like I say to Scaredy-man; second worst. Third better if approached right. If wrong, third worse than second." He stated with his back to them, his arm moving rhythmically as he ground the herbs, and his entire body swaying with each motion, as if it was a dance. After a moment, he stopped, and rummaged through a nearby barrel like a bum looking in a garbage can, pulling out two mugs. These he set on the table, pouring water from a second flask he'd had set on the table into each, and then pouring whatever was in the mortar into each. Giving the two mugs a bit of a stir, he grabbed one in each hand, and turned to his patients. Both hands began to glow a soft red orange, before he held out the mugs to them. "Drink. Speed heal."
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Post by Vrek on Oct 16, 2008 5:23:53 GMT
Jacen pushed past a large leafy fern, still following that foreign song. A few minutes passed before the bosmeri noticed any change. But he heard it soon enough: running water. That sound put a quick spring into his step, jolting him closer.
Once he reached the water he pushed aside some of the plants along the bank of the river, then quickly cupping his hands, and bringing handfuls of water to his mouth. Gritting through the pain in his ribs, he poured the life-giving liquid down his throat. Once he was sated, he looked up at the still singing bird.
It was an odd specimen, with body shape and tail not unlike a bird that lived around the border of Valenwood and Elsweyr. Jacen fell back on his heels, and focused on the song. A few moments passed studying the strange bird, before he enacted his heritages inborn abilities. His tongue made some small changes of size and shape. Out of his mouth came the same tropical song, though focused into words, "Thank you... friend?"
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Post by FC4 on Oct 16, 2008 13:06:37 GMT
Jacen "Yes." The bird replied, bobbing the elegant head as it spoke back, causing the feathers to change colors in the new angles of light. "Drink, and healing will come quickly to you. Drink quickly; my time here is short before she discovers me."
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 16, 2008 17:20:12 GMT
Perur blinked in confusion at first, not having taken his own appearance into account just yet, before glancing down. For the first time, he noticed the fat that he was very nearly naked, save for the loincloth that barely hid himself from the others in the room. And, with his current position of being nearly on all fours, that didn't help nearly as much as one would have thought. He remained quiet for a few moments, simply gazing at himself, trying to feel surprised.
He was only trying, because at the moment his emotions were quite drained. He didn't feel any sort of surprise, interest, or even caring, just a kind of 'Oh. Look at that.' moment. He didn't pay any mind to the scars that sliced and twisted across his chest, sides, and back, which were undoubtedly what Semira had been gazing at earlier, simply shrugged and looked back up to the shaking Dunmer. Again, there was no surprise, no sympathy, just kind of an acknowledgment that she was shivering, before accepting the mug that the wild man had thrust towards them.
"You get used to the images after a while. One in constant fear learns that other fears, save the ones that are deadly, start to be dulled after a while." He pointed out, allowing himself to recline back, going from all fours to sitting. Raising the mug to his lips, he gave the liquid inside a small sniff, before tilting the mug back to pour the liquid into his mouth.
The taste was so very, very bitter... It tasted like he had just taken a bite out of wormwood, or coated his tongue in arsenic, but it no longer mattered. This would apparently help, so he choked back the gag that rose from the back of his throat, swallowing the concoction in great gulps. It was like forcing a needle into your hand. You simply had to do it as quickly as possible, if you did it slower, it would only be worse.
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