Author Topic: Nervous for the MCAT [Alchemist Recruitment]  (Read 177 times)

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Offline Isaiah

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Nervous for the MCAT [Alchemist Recruitment]
« on: February 24, 2017, 06:33:02 PM »
The surgeon spat out what in his mouth and let out a nasty, wet pant. Even as malnourished as the slave had been, dragging her here by her foot was still more physical exertion than the little wolf was really meant for. The air was humid here, near the springs, and Alteron's verdent green was more resplendant than ever - everything was here EMERALD. Except for his dark, greasy fur, and the body of the golden slave. They stood out.

Isaiah was a good doctor. But the little collie he'd dragged her had many ailments. She was weak and starved, with wounds healing up all wrong. Her breath rattled and came far, far too slow. She'd lost patches of fur. Isaiah was troubled to recognize the resemblence between her and Harpe. The only real difference is that he was invested in Harpe. It wasn't possible to be invested in every single suffering soul in Alteron. There were too many. Isaiah didn't have enough kindness for that.

So he dropped her to the ground near the springs, in a patch of soft emerald grass and deep purple flowers. And then he let out a ghastly, slimy howl - rattling and weak and eerie, and he waited for them. Aspiring healers and poisoners, kind-hearted souls and curious sociopaths. He's seen them all and wasn't impressed by much of anything Alteron had to offer.

"This is my patient." Isaiah said darkly to whichever few arrived. "But obviously my care didn't serve her so well. Tell me - what did I do wrong?"
« Last Edit: February 24, 2017, 06:35:48 PM by Isaiah »

But although I have spiraling, beautiful dreams
in glassy architecture, I'm no good at carpentry.

Offline Crisis!

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Re: Nervous for the MCAT [Alchemist Recruitment]
« Reply #1 on: April 08, 2017, 11:21:37 AM »
Crisis came to sit in audience, an attendant in attention only. She had developed a sick fascination with the macabre, the inner workings of the living, the way the right plant can right the system and the wrong one can somehow drain the will to live from a creature's body. She preferred a quick end with a strong set of jaws herself, but there was a subtle kind of power in the way an Alchemist wielded their expertise and knowledge. It might be...fun.

At Isaiah's behest, she took another look at the body. The dog's rib bones were clearly visible, rises and divots on the skin on her side. She was missing fur, and beneath that she was missing skin in some places, injuries from who knows where. She was pathetic. Crisis wrinkled her nose, thinking on Atlas, on Orcrist. On herself. "She looks like she hasn't eaten in ages." Not quite an adult, Crisis' limited scope of the full effects of malnutrition wasn't enough to further than that with her assertion. However, it did seem to be enough for her, and she was not afraid to ask questions. "Could starving cause all of this?" She was the daughter of Orcrist; she sure knew that the opposite of starving did.
« Last Edit: April 08, 2017, 11:52:10 AM by Crisis! »