synflux | ( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

[ You know, this is kind of annoying.

Gebura has been in a few situations where she's been trapped in a different form, or something similar, though it's nothing quite like this. She's in some kind of area where the roof is caving in and, rather than do anything about it, a call to action that she knows she's capable of, she's more or less paralyzed.

And then suddenly she's pulled close against someone and it's Even Worse because there's been a strange kind of familiarity, an emotional recognition to whoever was dreaming this, the feeling of "I shouldn't do this, but I need to." Not something she can focus on right now, not when she recognizes the person who just saved... whoever she's supposed to be. And additionally recognizes there's some other implication to his arm being injured, but regardless--she braces a hand against his chest, leaning back to give him a very unimpressed stare.

Surely just like the NPC Shopkeeper would have done. Surely!! ]

Now's hardly the time to joke, is it?

[ The shopkeeper's expression mellows out from her panic, and that's all Elysium needs to see for his own smile to widen. In another universe, while the shopkeeper might've not leveled such an unimpressed stare, she would have a thing or two to say about his seemingly skewed priorities. Which is to say, it's completely in-line for a reaction he would expect, even if he's distantly thinking about how he's never seen make a face quite like that before.

Priorities! ]

You're right. For the selfless behaviour, I deserve more of an eleven. But come now. Seeing as you have your wits about you, help me round people up. … this sort type of Catastrophe will be on top of you before you know it.

[ Before she so much agrees, he's already offering her a salute before quickly turning on his heel. Then, as an over the shoulder yell: ]

We don't have much time!

[ Good(?) to know he's as energetic as ever, despite the roof coming down on them, but at the very least, it's better than someone who panics and huddles trembling in a corner. People like that are best hauled by the collar, planted somewhere else and told to stay put because she can usually tell at a glance who's going to be of use in an emergency and who's best moved out of the way.

She can be useful here, so she follows him. Simple enough. ]

Just how many people do we need to clear out? [ An entire village? ]

███. No man left behind. But about ██ of them should be out on business… so ███!

[ They're exact numbers, mind you. Not an approximate in the tens or hundreds, but the precise number of people the village should contain. He's being completely serious, eyes crinkling in sheer confidence. It's better if they split here, so he'll point in one direction and bound off in the other.

Whether she chooses to fully believe in his words or not, the scene cuts there. Gebura loses control of the body again, though not before hearing the last few exchanges of it—how he's a fool for coming back, but also how he self-proclaims that he's an expert at surviving in the wilderness and will see to it that everyone makes it out alive.

The next time colour bleeds from black, Gebura will find herself as a spectator this time, made privy to Elysium's own feelings. His arm burns for a reason that isn't exactly festering, and yet he continues to smile and calm people down, offering people words of comfort through it all. Although she's once again thrust in the midst of it, there are plenty of people around chattering; she'll be able to piece together the following information: Elysium had found them this underground shelter, they have supplies to last a few days, and that they're undeniably safe from the Catastrophe. But as origin stories often go, things aren't that easy. One particular vibration later, their way out gets blocked.

Time passes by quickly like this. The days go by and people become antsier. They take it out on Elysium: he was the one who'd lead them to the shelter, after all, and the transmission signals he sends out remain answerless. Whether they'd stayed up there or came down here, it's possible the latter was the worse of the options for not offering a quick pass. His wound seems to have worsened, too, the pain almost mind-numbing. But Elysium remains focused, even if he's started coughing for it. From hereon, his pain becomes hers—a constant, searing ache that persists for several days that spreads and eventually envelops his entire body, compacted in however much time it takes to dream it.

'The wound's swollen, maybe festering, and I'm hurting all over, like that time I got run over by that contraption in Rim Billiton... worse, actually.'

'My Arts are getting more powerful, though it aches when I use them.'

'Is this how it feels to get Oripathy?'

'Looks like I won't get to use those meds after all.'

… Time flits. She's once again above ground. It's indeterminable how much time has passed exactly, but Gebura will be able to move the same body she'd controlled earlier, Elysium's expression as sunny as it always has been right in front of her. ]

Morning, folks. It's been a while! Nice to see that the rebuilding is going well.

[ There are whispers of his sickness, of his plan to leave, of his dream he'd apparently shared with them not too long ago, supposedly now discarded. ]

[ This is far too much information and more than she ever wanted to know about this guy, but it's not like Gebura's figured out a way to break out of this, more or less forced to accept that she just has to go along with it. This is a man who's got confidence in spades and, worse, he believes in it. Not to fool the people, but to get them through this latest mess, and briefly she wonders how confident Daniel had been until he'd been put in the worst possible situation. When he'd been forced to make a choice that had ultimately led to the same outcome.

But she doesn't dwell on it long. The attitude of the people doesn't surprise her; she's been around enough people to know that as soon as things go south, they usually look for a scapegoat. The wound, though? As the ache persists, as the pain grows worse and worse... this is worse than a mere infection, isn't it? Some kind of illness?

Oripathy?

Is this something he's still contending with? She hears the whispers, and she can move and speak again, albeit not as herself. Not entirely.

Well--

It's a very Gebura response to look at him as steadily as she does, at least. ]

You're the worst kind of idiot.

[ The one who had gone back to save a village, who had apparently developed some kind of illness from it, who could still smile even as he faced the backlash of unfortunate circumstances.

Well, she might be calling out herself as well. ]

[ The memory veers slightly off course, but the dreamer himself doesn't notice… not yet. ]

An idiot that's managed to save a bunch of lives, so I'd say I'm doing pretty well for one, no?

[ … At this point, Gebura may notice that they aren't alone. The same townsfolk that had rebuked Elysium for his recklessness—for getting them into the situation he did—looks apologetic. Regretful. Whether Elysium holds a grudge or not, it doesn't show. ]

… Oh, don't give me that look. It's not so bad. I'm going to keep getting treated, and things don't get any better than that.

[ If anything, the words just send the man deeper into despair. ]

[ Well, she shouldn't expect it to be the same thing, she thinks. These people could regret their actions and their words...

What a strange thought. ]

... This treatment of yours... rather, the Oripathy. Can it be cured?

[ There's not enough information on this, not for her. ]

[ …

'Can it be cured.'

An innocent enough question. An innocent enough assumption, given they're talking treatment. It's not something that tips him off either, because that, too, is a part of the script. ]

Well… I don't know. But I feel as fine as I ever have, so no harm done.

[ Or so he says, while the same townsman insists on his staying. His answer remains the same unfathomable smile. ]

People will get scared if I stay, c'mon. That's just how it goes when you're Infected. I can still drop by when I get some free time, you know. There's no need to write me off completely.

[ "As fine as I ever have," he says, when she had felt it firsthand. That wasn't the kind of pain one could simply grin and bear forever, even someone like him. And it's a bit aggravating, for him to be so blithe about it. Maybe he does feel fine now, but no one had realized how much agony that wound had caused him while they'd been trapped, either.

If there's one thing Gebura isn't fond of (there's many), it's people who hide their feelings behind a smile. ]

You don't seem much like the staying type, anyway.

[ And of course, role or not, she's as blunt as ever. ]

You get it. I always did want to see more of the world! Real convenient how things tend to work out.

[ Another interjection——this time, in the form of a 'But you said…' It seems to merit a longer pause, several seconds before Elysium's shrugging his shoulders. ]

Ahaha, the Messenger thing? [ … ] Well, er, sorry about that. Turns out you can't really put a bird in a cage. This bird, anyway. You guys had a Messenger in the past, right? You're lovely folk. Another one will swing by in no time.

[ His gaze seems to suggest he isn't entirely convinced… given, it was a dream Elysium spoken about quite fervently in the past. But, at least he seems to understand that he might have the least of rights to say anything about it. ]

[ Another term she... well, no, she's aware of what a Messenger is, but the context of it from the City is bound to be different from what his context is. Ideally. Otherwise she'd probably hate him a hell of a lot more.

It's fine!

And finally, Gebura frowns, nudging Elysium's shoulder. ]

You know I'm not supposed to be here, right? You should probably kick me out before I see more than you wanted me to.

[ The dream ripples. Elysium's brows furrow. He's a normally quick on the uptake guy, but even this has him pausing for beats longer than usual before all the little minor details click.

… ]

Yeah? I don't suppose you can give me the instruction manual for that?

[ With a concentrated effort, the 'lights' to the dream flicker. The scene fades from a field, to a forest, to an ocean before they ultimately end up in an empty hall. With the dispersal of the memory, so returns Gebura's original form.

He smiles. ]

Was a real nail biter, wasn't it.

[ The hall is more familiar to her, not in what it is, but because Gebura has spent so much time inside a facility at this point that it feels almost bizarre to have been in any of those other places for even more than a second.

Gebura leans back against one the walls, arms folded over her chest, once she's sure she's herself and he recognizes that. ]

Kinder than I expected it to be. You really went back, just to...

[ Well, no. Unlike her past self, he'd been able to save all those people. So she lets that sentence die. Instead, she goes digging in her pockets for a cigarette. Surely, his dream will let her smoke-- ]

... So, you still have it? [ Oripathy. ]

I told you before, didn't I? That my motto's to do what I can, when I can. Put in the same situation, I'd do the same thing again. And again.

[ … As uncomfortable as it is having his memory exposed, there's reprieve in knowing it's Gebura, of all people. It's a common enough ailment that it really isn't a big deal—but he's sure, out of context, it would be. ]

Mm. [ A simple hum as an answer. ] No found cure yet, but it's stable. Even here.

[ They could replicate his medication, thankfully. But beyond that…? He hasn't thought that far or requested for them to look into it any deeper when all things considered, it'd be a waste of resources when so many of the brightest minds in his world had yet to come up with one themselves. But, the smile relaxes at the show of concern, if only because there's an innate trust she wouldn't pity him. ]

There are fire alarms, Miss Gebura. Don't go tripping them now.

[ Like he couldn't just change the scene… They both get to be a little uncomfortable here! ]

[ If looks could kill.

She'd shove a cigarette in defiantly, but-- ]

... Don't even have my lighter on me. [ To add insult to injury. She can't even enjoy a little comfort. Worst dream ever, notwithstanding her own. ]

Anyway, if there's no known cure yet, might as well get the people here to put some extra work in for you. Unless you've resigned yourself to it. [ Which is his own choice and this comes from someone who'd been looking forward to dying (again), only to have to form a compromise to exist longer. For the barest chance of fulfilling a long-held goal by a woman who had died before all of them.

Nothing worth dwelling on right now. As ever. ]

[ If looks could kill——

Elysium would be dead more than hundreds of times over, before Gebura could so much even get a glimpse of him. ]

Right. Might as well make use of our employment benefits.

[ Spoken like a guy who has full intention of making use of said benefits. But, anyway, at least she won't have to rue her lack of cigarettes for long… because something else will click, and he'll give her a small smile. ]

… Well, I appreciate the tip-off. I don't think what you saw was particularly interesting, so I suppose I'll be seeing you around. I'm glad it was you.

[ ta ta ]

( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

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