Echoes of Agony

The adventures and misadventures of Jay Capistrano.

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Echoes of Agony

Post by Capistrano »

((Author's Note: Events here take place in the aftermath of “Howl of Misfortune”))

"Get away from me...Leave me alone..." He waved them off, all of them. What could they do to help him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Everything was messed up, and now he was there, kneeling in the ring, covered in blood, surrounded by it. It looked like a massacre. And it was all his fault.

His knees shaking and unsteady, he rose, away from them, towards the back room of the Outback. His left hand slipped on the knob a couple of times, leaving streaks of red on the handle, before he finally managed to get it open. He slammed the door behind him. There was a window towards the back of the room, a small office that Jay didn't even bother to examine in his haste to escape. He lifted it up, then removed the screen, and stepped outside into the night. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he started running away from the building. He needed to leave. He needed to leave now.

He could feel the city sleeping, the heartbeats of dreamers throbbing in his pulse. The restless dreams of thousands of humans, elves, dwarves, and countless other species, calling towards him. He ran blindly, paying attention only to what was in front of him, what he might have to dodge, where he might have to turn. This late, there were few people out, not that he even bothered to look in their direction. He was covered in blood, scored heavily across the face with claw marks, and his right arm was screaming at him with each jarring foot step. Finally, he stumbled across a tall tenement apartment complex, a couple of blocks from the Inn. It was rather nondescript, a tall rectangle pushing into the air, walls white-washed, balconies studding the sides and covered with laundry hung over the wrought iron railings to dry. Jay swung around towards the back of the building, looking for a back door, an emergency exit, anything. He found one, a white door with flecks of paint missing, revealing the metal used to make it. He gave it a tug. Locked. Perfect. He shut his eyes, focusing on the portal. He wasn't looking, and everyone in the area was asleep, but if they had been looking, they might have seen the bright white light spilling out under the door, before Jay opened it and stepped inside.

He kept sprinting, now through a forest so thick and overgrown with skyscraping trees that it blocked out all sun or moonlight. Jay couldn't tell what time it was, what with the green canopy of leaves above him. He heard the howls and screeches of creatures hidden within the branches, but nothing deterred him from the rough dirt path cutting through the heart of the woods. Fast as he could, he put one foot in front of the other, not really sure when or where he'd emerge from this dream. A quick thought, and his hair and clothing changed to his normal Dreamwalker gear: a solid black sweatshirt, khaki cargo pants, and dark black hair. His mind then wandered back towards the duels, simultaneously searching for an answer and castigating himself for what had occurred.

His eyes bulged out of his head. The world was a dim grey fog with smears of red on the periphery of his vision, and couldn't hear anything beyond the roaring in his ears. Poppy was no longer in front of him. It was her. The woman from his nightmare. She wore the crimson dress loosely on her malnourished frame, the knees jutting out far too sharply from her frame, the neckline cut into a V. Far from flattering, it called further attention to how withered and wasted she looked, bones far too visible beneath jaundiced skin. He couldn't tell if the darkness under her eyes and on her lips was makeup or decay, but the thinning wisps of black hair that came down just into her blood-shot, dark eyes seemed to suggest the latter. She grinned maliciously at Jay, then beckoned him with a bony finger forward. Soon, he heard her voice purring in his head. It made his skin crawl.

“Jay...I'm going to kill you. Right...now.” Without a warning, Jay sprung forward and threw a crushing left-handed jab. She vanished right as he thought he'd struck her, and he heard laughter behind him.

The dream was a brown-green blur, of swaying trunks, gentle breezes, the dirt beneath his feet giving him little support as he bolted through the forest. Where was the door? How was he going to get out of here? His lungs burned, the lactic acid in his legs making each stride he took more and more of a chore. He suddenly pulled up, as something appeared in front of his eyes. An arch, made out of gnarled and knotted wood, arcing across the pathway. Hung below it was a sign, the words written in illegible gibberish. Yet, as soon as Jay looked at it, he knew what the words were meant to say. Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here. Without hesitation, Jay trotted through the arch, ignoring the stitch in his side.

He tackled the woman and pinned her to the ground, her cackling assaulting his ears. Her skin was sandpaper rough, and he could feel her weak wrists struggle to escape his strong grasp. With little warning, Jay drove his forehead straight into her nose, and the laughter stopped. There was a bright flash of light. A different voice filtered into his ears, small and weak, coughing and sputtering as if choking on some liquid. S-stop...” Jay hoisted her up by her shirt, fist cocked back to strike one more vicious blow, and the fog was burned away from his vision. It wasn't...her anymore. It was Poppy. He saw her face, coated in blood, and dropped her back to the mat. He didn't have time to feel sorry. The werewolf came right after him, and they fought.

A blur. They exchanged blows. His cheek was slashed open by claws. He punched and chopped the werewolf in the snout, feeling the satisfying crunch of a broken nose. Soerl backed off, and once Jay realized he was no longer in danger, he sank to his knees, bawling into his bloodied hands.

He returned to the physical world with another gust of wind and flash of white, staggering out of the doorway of a building across the road from Candy's. He had nowhere else to turn, and he hoped that she wouldn't think him monstrous, like everyone else at the Outback probably did.
Last edited by Capistrano on Wed Jun 11, 2008 4:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Echoes of Agony: Candy

Post by Capistrano »

June 3rd, early morning

With a rush of white light and a blast of wind that was far too chilly for the summer season, Jay opened the door to the building across the alley from Candy's studio apartment. The slashes on his cheek had finally scabbed up, but the left side of his face was still covered in dried-up blood, as was his forehead, his neck and most of his tank-top. His right shoulder was stiff and sore; he couldn't tell if it had been bruised, strained, separated, or dislocated (though the fact that he could still lift it above his head and do things with his arm led him to believe it was probably not the latter two). He could feel the nausea rising from his stomach to his throat as he staggered toward and up the cast iron steps to Candy's apartment. He knocked, as loud as he could, then slumped his head against the door, now moaning softly.

Inside the lights were off, but candles had been lit in the back windows. Candy sat in darkness with the gun sitting before her when the knock came. This time she didn't look back at the door before picking up the gun, snapping the safety off and heading towards the door. An eye to the peekhole; it was hard to tell who was outside the door the way they were standing. The gun was placed opposite the person on the other side. "State your name or move where I can see you." Her words spoken loud enough to carry through the door and sound as though she meant business.

He straightened up his posture, best he could, and stood in front of the door. "It's me. Jay. Capistrano.”

The gun lowered, the five deadbolts and single chain were undone as she opened the door to him. The gun was once again behind the door. "You look like shit, come in." The statement was amusing as, aside from not being covered in blood, she didn't appear much better. Eyes were tired, as though she couldn't sleep or was avoiding doing so. She wore a black tank top without anything under it with the same loose sweats of the day previous. She moved out of the way enough for him to enter and once he did so, locked up the door again.

He stepped inside, and in whatever dim lighting was present, his eyes almost seemed to glow in the dark. Although, closer examination would reveal that they were red-rimmed and still a little watery. He immediately stumbled, over nothing in particular, and he whispered a quiet word. "Migraines..."

Candy's defenses were a mess. She'd been seeing ghosts all day. The moment the door was locked and he was inside, she wondered why she let him in. Jay's bloody presence was taken in as he stumbled in the hallway. She gestured down the hall with the hand that held the gun. "You know where the bed is. Go lay down. I'll kill the candles."

His footsteps were halting, lurching ones, as he very nearly pitched backwards after taking one forward. His vision was swimming, his head was throbbing, and he felt something more than nausea bubbling up. He made a bee line for the restroom then, flipping up both lids on the toilet. The sounds of retching and heaving soon filled the apartment.

She moved to follow him, stopping outside of the bathroom and leaning against the opposite wall. Eyes glanced away from his back and towards the interior of the main room. Candles flickered, casting dancing shadows about the floor. Seeing her own shadows lurking, she waited for him to be done.

He was done puking after a minute or so, but it was another four or five before he could finally pull himself away from the cold porcelain and towards the sink. He turned the cold water on, splashing it onto his face and neck. The clear water quickly turned brackish and red as it swirled down the sink. After he'd washed his face, he grabbed a bar of soap and cleansed his hands of the blood that covered them. "Tylenol?" he gasped, a hand immediately going to his head afterwards. He had to press his other hand against the sink counter to keep himself standing upright.

"Travel bag," Vocally indicating the black travel case that sat on top of the sink, just within the door and under the light switch.

Jay unzipped the bag, trying to keep his eyes focused long enough to pick up the tell-tale label of painkillers. He finally found it and unscrewed the cap. He dumped a handful of Tylenol into his left hand, then attempted to put the excess back in by tilting his hand carefully toward the opening. Of course, about half the pills dropped to the floor. "Sorry." When he had four in his palm, he clapped it against his mouth and quickly ingested them. "Won't do much good, but better than nothing."

"Right," was the distracted answer, uncaring of the pills that were lost to the floor. Brown/green irises went from the main room to him and back again. After a pause, "Going to tell me what happened?"
Last edited by Capistrano on Wed Jun 11, 2008 2:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Echoes of Agony: Candy (continued)

Post by Capistrano »

He sprinted, panicked, back to the toilet, but it was a false alarm, though the dry heaves were no less disconcerting to him. Once he was done grasping the toilet again, he turned around and leaned his back against it, sitting on the bathroom floor. "I guess I have to. Short answer? I fucked up. Real bad."

She remained standing, out in the hallway looking in on him. Gun in hand, the safety still off. "What did you do?"

He still wasn't quite sure what had happened himself. He shook his head, looking almost ready to burst into tears again. "I-I really don't know. I just-I." He hated feeling so vulnerable, so now he turned his eyes toward his knees, admiring the fabric of his navy blue basketball shorts. Red splatters had managed to land there as well.

She watched him, hearing that edge in his voice. Where only yesterday it might have bent her will ever so, today it only thickened the wall. She gave a nod that he might not have seen and moved away, down the hall and into the main room. Attention perked for any sound or hint of movement. Advancing on the window straight before her, she moved the thick sage curtain to glance out into the night with her free hand.

He pulled himself off the floor and headed out of the bathroom, trying to walk and see straight. The diagonal direction he took back toward the main room, and the number of times he almost bumped into the walls, seemed to suggest he was struggling with it. He nearly fell into a wall one near the kitchen, and decided to lean his good, left arm against it. The confession came out in a faster, more panicked tone of voice than usual, with little care given to telling a coherent story. "I don't know what I was doing but I got in the ring and I-I thought she was someone else. And I hurt her. Real bad. And then this other guy in the other ring got really mad and turned into some kind of werewolf or something and hurt the green-haired girl, then he came after me." He lifted a hand to his left cheek. "And I fought him off and he ran away, but then Lizzie and Daniel saw it all. I really fucked up bad."

She listened to his words, watching the shine of her gun. Brown/greens weren't lifted towards him, didn't offer him judgment or company. "Everyone is alive?"

"Yeah. They left, and Lizzie and Danny tried to talk to me, but I was scared I was gonna flip out again on them. And then I came here because I didn't know who else to see, but I shouldn't have. I don't want to hurt anybody else. I'm gonna go." And abruptly, he turned around, heading for the main hallway and the door he had just entered a few minutes before.

Several heart beats of silence, then the gun was clicked back into safety. Still, she didn't look up as her voice followed behind him. "If you don't want to hurt anyone else, why are you leaving? We already know you can't hurt me."

He stopped, pressing his left hand against the wall, still facing the opposite direction of her. "Not in this shape. Not without a bat. That's-never happened to me before. And I'm afraid it will again.”

Eyes tracked to the window. "You came here for a reason, if you want to leave that's your call. But you'd be better off here than roaming the streets, even if it does happen again." Then her gaze carried to his back.

"I came here because I figure everyone else is gonna hate me now. And you're gonna hate me too, but maybe not for a little while." He risked looking over his shoulder at her. "Or maybe you do hate me, and are just helping me out of pity."

"I don't hate you." Her voice was irritated... that he said she hated him, that she didn't hate him, that not hating him was an issue. She turned away, kept her gun crouched in her lap. "Are you staying?"

He turned around, too exhausted to play the usual game of avoiding eye contact. He looked straight at her, and nodded his head. "I'm staying. My head hurts really bad. Wouldn't be able to make it back home."

'Bed's all yours," she said, not turning around from her perch in the window sill.

Slowly, Jay shuffled into the room with the bed in it. He glanced towards her. "I probably should get rid of my shirt. Got another one?"

"Didn't know you couldn't get rid of one without having another." Standing, she padded towards the closet, gun always in hand. The shirt she'd taken with her tossed to him. Then back to the window, giving him the privacy he seemed to want when not taking his shirt off for other reasons.

He lifted the bloodied black wife-beater over his head and tossed it to the floor, before donning the "Black Flag" shirt from the other day. That done, he collapsed onto the bed back first, not really caring if his head hit the pillows or if he was on top of the sheets or not.

Again she perched in the sill, legs pulled up with her knees to her chest and arms wrapped around them. The gun was kept in hand, almost like a child holding a security blanket. The sound of his hitting the bed brought her to glance in that direction, then back to the window.

His eyes shut almost immediately upon contact, though he didn't quite seem to be asleep yet. His mouth moved, but no words came out at first. Then, random gibberish syllables poured from his lips, before he was finally able to force two words through the dysphasia, a bit more clipped and curt because of the effort needed to get them through. "Thank you.”

Her head turned towards him again. Eyes that were tired, wary, sad and haunted looked at him. There was a fear there, as well. Though, none of it showed but for the tiredness in her voice. "Go to sleep, Jay."

Soon after Candy spoke the words, Jay did fall asleep. His rumbling snore followed quickly behind. He slept and she settled into a long night of not sleeping.

((Edited and Adapted from Live RP))
Last edited by Capistrano on Wed Jun 11, 2008 2:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Echoes of Agony: Poppy

Post by Capistrano »

June 3, afternoon

Jay hadn't really bothered to change from the night before, although he also hadn't been around too many people who might have noticed. He wore a white t-shirt with four black bars on the chest, sandwiched by the words 'Minor Threat.' A pair of khaki-colored cargo shorts were on his legs. He took deep drags from the cigarette he held between his left index and middle fingers as he sat down at the bar. As soon as he was seated, he slumped over the bartop, clearly whupped. The left side of his face had large, claw-like scratches on it, just beneath his eye.

Poppy didn't look much better, though much cleaner. She had just come from her small apartment, on her way to check on Lydia, when she thought for sure she saw Jay going into the Inn. She knew she looked pretty hurt -- swollen nose, two practically black eyes, and that arm in a sling? Poppy had made no effort to cover them, and figured that Jay would probably look no better. Stepping through the door, she immediately closed the distance to the bar and cleared her throat. “Can we talk?”

He inhaled deeply, then pressed the spent filter into a nearby ashtray. Willing himself to his feet, he noticed the tender wasn't present. He slipped behind the bar and poured himself a cup of coffee, then added two packets of sugar and creamer to the black beverage. He shambled back to the customers' side of the bar and sat down once more, still hunching his shoulders. He barely seemed to acknowledge Poppy's presence. "I don't know why you'd want to talk to me..."

“What else am I to do? Ignore it?” She refrained from making a face and then tried to compose herself some. It was hard to think it was a good idea when she was seeing him -- hard not to feel a little angry. “We should come to some understanding.”

He straightened up a little, but still kept his gaze aimed squarely down, at the cup of coffee between his hands. He lifted it up for a sip, then set it back down once more. "I know I messed up badly. And I'm sorry. But I don't even think it matters what I say."

She rested her left arm onto the bar and then leaned there, thinking it over for a moment. The last thing either of them needed was misspoken words. “It matters. This was more than just an accident, but I know there is some innocence. You were not yourself, of that I am certain.”

He balled up his right hand into a fist and struck the counter lightly. It was a gesture born out of frustration more than anger. "I wish I knew what happened. That's never happened to me before. You have to believe me."

She leaned forward some, lowering her voice some. “I do believe you, I do. I want you to consider your injuries, though, and then consider the similarities. *He* was not himself, either.” She was trying not to be too obvious about who she was talking about.

Jay glanced around carefully, to see if anyone was watching him talk to Poppy, before he lowered his voice as well. "What do you mean, similarities? Injuries?" He rubbed the claw-marks on the side of his face, subconsciously.

She placed two silvers down on the bar and pointed at a booth where they could talk and not be right out in the open, obvious. “If you can manage, will you bring me something, please?” Then she headed in that direction without waiting for an answer. It hardly mattered, though.

He stood up, and turned to face Poppy. "What do you want?"

There was a dismissive wave, like she really didn't care what. She could use something to drink, but it seemed hardly worth the trouble, and she was starting to feel pretty tired. So, she waited for Jay in the booth.

He went behind the bar once more, grabbing a Badsider from the cooler and putting the silvers in the till. He popped the cap off, then grabbed his mug of coffee. Tricky fingers pinched the glass ashtray between the bottle, and he carried all three objects to Poppy's booth. He set the beer down in front of her, then the coffee and ashtray in front of him. He sat across from her, but looked straight down.
Last edited by Capistrano on Wed Jun 11, 2008 2:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Echoes of Agony: Poppy (continued)

Post by Capistrano »

“Thanks.” She lifted the beer and took a sip. Her voice was low, but she didn't bother closing the curtain or anything -- most people didn't pay attention in Rhy'Din, anyway. “What I'd like to determine is if you understand your injuries? That the reason you have those--” She gestured to the scratches on his face with her left hand, since the right was in a sling. “--is nearly identical to the reason I have these?” And a gesture towards her nose and black eyes.

He fished the pack of Red Apple smokes out of his pocket, setting them on the table, then placing his lighter on top. "Mind if I...?" He jumped into the main topic of conversation before she could reply to his inquiry. "I don't really remember hurting you. I...saw something-someone else. Not you. And-yeah...But I remember fighting him. I remember him clawing me, and busting up my shoulder. Not too bad, though."

She shook her head at his question, then listened rather patiently to the rest. What could she really say, though? She didn't know why he had seen these things he claimed he saw. This was damage control, more than anything. “I don't think he remembers even that much. It was more like... instinct?”

There was a slight shake to his hand as he pulled out a cigarette. It took him a couple of tries to get it between his lips, and he nearly fumbled the lighter on the table before he managed to ignite the flame and light his smoke. He breathed in deeply, turned to the outside of the booth, and exhaled. He set the cylinder in the ashtray afterwards, taking a sip of coffee. "I'm...so confused. By myself."

Confused? She shook her head and reached a hand up to rub at her aching brain. “Can I help you?” Why was she even asking? There was something strange about the whole situation. She had no fault, after all, but she felt guilty. And bad. And a great many other things, too. “Please, I'd like to do what I can to make this right. There's so much we have to discuss...”

"I should be making things right. I don't know how I can though." His tattooed left hand went up to rub at the scratches still present on his cheek. "I don't think I can."

“What is "right?" Does it involve myself? My brother? What does that mean?” All of these vague answers were a bit frustrating, but she took a moment and sipped at her beer, trying to simmer down some.

Puff, puff, ash. Then, he slurped at his coffee. Finally, he replied. "I hurt you badly, and I'm guessing that's why he came after me. And why he hurt her. So it's really all my fault."

Poppy looked like she wanted to say something, but she looked around before leaning in to actually say it. It was barely above a whisper. “Before any real blame is placed, know there is a possibility that you will be afflicted the same as my brother within the next two weeks.” There was a rather grim look on her face, but she felt she had to warn him.

The words were enough to get Jay to forgo his usual embargo on eye contact with others. Piercing light blue irises locked in on Poppy's hazel eyes. They almost seemed to bore right through her. <vsw>"What?"

Poppy matched his level as well as she could, staring right back without so much as a flinch. “The full moon is two weeks away...” Isn't that rather ominous sounding?

He barely managed to tamp down the panic in his voice, though he started to smoke his cigarette more nervously. "You mean...like him?"

She nodded. “So, save your final decisions on this matter until then, but know I harbor... little ill will of this.” That is to say, there was some.

He exhaled a sigh, then nodded, eyes drifting up towards the stairs. "Do you mind if we cut this short? I want to be alone." His words were curt, but a quick glance at his face would reveal that he hadn't been sleeping well either.

“Do what you must.” Another quick sip of her beer, before she slipped out of the booth and stood. “If you need to find me, I have an apartment at the Econ-Omni.”

"Okay." He stood up and began to walk slowly towards the steps that would take him up to his room. He paused on the first stair, though, and turned back around to face Poppy once more. "I know I already said it. But I'm really sorry."

She nodded. “Me too.” And there was likely much more to that statement than anyone might guess. There was no real reason left for her to hang around, so she turned and headed out the door. It was still a long way to Lydia's.

Cigarette and coffee mug still in either hand, he traipsed up the stairs and out of sight of the rest of the Inn.

((Edited and Adapted from Live RP))
Last edited by Capistrano on Wed Jun 11, 2008 2:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Echoes of Agony: Soerl

Post by Capistrano »

June 6, early afternoon
RhyDin Free Health Clinic


Jay pushed open the first set of glass doors, then paused when he reached the second set. A sign had caught his attention, and he read it quickly. The same message seemed to have been written on the larger poster plastered to the glass several times, in countless languages, most of which he had no idea how to translate. It was written once in Common, though, and that he was able to read. This clinic specializes in humanoid species. All non-humanoids species should visit the free clinic in the Old Temple district, on 1932 Duin Way. He scratched his head for a moment, then went through the second set of doors.

Other than the dwarves, elves, halfings and other species Jay wasn't quite able to identify that were mixed in with the humans inside, this looked about like any other free clinic Jay had been to before. The left side of the room was dominated by a long, wooden bench, with short end tables on either side of it stacked high with magazines, boxes of tissues, and medical pamphlets in several languages. Behind the bench, on the whitewashed walls, hung several large posters with large images of health do's and don'ts, the messages for them written underneath the picture in various languages. Cover your mouth when you sneeze. Wash your hands. Just say no to drugs. The images were crudely drawn, and, if Jay had known anything about RhyDin, somewhat racist at times. A human child turning his nose up at an orc who was sneezing. A halfling with peculiarly (and obviously exaggerated) large feet, washing his hands. A drow, lips turned up in a wicked grin, offering some elvish children a baggy full of vividly colored crystals. In front of these posters, sitting on the bench, everyone seemed to be in the same boat, crushed together in the lack of space. Humans sat elbow-to-elbow with elves, dwarves, drow, and halflings, seeming not to care about the differences between them. Others, not so fortunate to have seats, stood off to the side, trying to be out of the way as best they could. Jay got in line, behind a family of crimson haired humans and a squat, greenish-grey skinned man, to sign in at the front desk. Waiting in the queue, his thoughts drifted, to yesterday, and his conversation with Soerl...

“How are you feeling?”

“What?”

“Feeling. My sister said you'd gotten hurt the other evening.”

"Not as bad as your sister."

“You might change. It's never definite, but you'll know for certain quite soon.”

"What-what should I do?"

The minstrel had thrown out suggestions, but little in the way of answers. Eat wolfsbane. Don't bother with a cage. It probably wouldn't work. Come see him if he did change. He hadn't been too pleased with Soerl's answers at first, but he knew it wasn't his fault. Everything was still up in the air. Distracted, Jay signed his name on the list, then went to stand in the corner of the waiting room, still brooding, still contemplating.

"Thanks, dude. And I'm sorry that happened."

“I understand that it wasn't your doing. Much as that-” Soerl gestured to the wound on Jay's face- “-was not mine. I am sorry as well.”

It was a rare move from Jay, but from his seated position on the floor of the Inn, he held his hand out toward Soerl. “S'alright, dude. I forgive you."

He had to smile a little, even if it was a little sadly. That made the second to forgive him for such a thing. He reached out and grasped Jay's hand firmly, then gave it a shake, and released.

"Good luck, dude."

“We could all use a bit of that, I think.”


“Yeah. Good luck.” Jay muttered to himself, and wasn't surprised when nobody else in the lobby seemed to bother to look his way.

((Edited and adapted from live RP))
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Echoes of Agony: Lydia

Post by Capistrano »

“Jay Capistrano?” The voice of one of the nurses shouted over the murmur of conversations, coughing, and crying babies. Jay had been seated against a wall, lucky to have found even that much space in the lobby. He scrambled to his feet and headed to where the nurse was standing, in front of a white door that led to the back. “Follow me.”

Close behind the nurse, Jay walked through a narrow hallway that looked somewhat similar to the lobby. The walls were also white and covered with posters. These, however, were more aimed towards the doctors, describing the benefits of prescribing various medications to their patients, as well as anatomy charts for the various species they might treat. The carpeting was a dull grey, mottled with various stains that Jay was pretty sure he didn't want identified for him. The smell of antiseptic, slightly hidden in the waiting room by the body odors of various people there, hung sharply in the air. If it weren't for the nurse's blue hair, shifting in gradients from root to tip from a lighter shade to a darker one, or the slight point of her ears, Jay probably would have pegged her for a human, even with her high-boned, exotic facial features. Before he really had a chance to ask her, though, she stopped in front of a wooden door and opened it. “Someone will be right with you.”

“How are you doing?” Lydia had asked him, while he was still sitting on the Inn's floor. It wasn't until Jay had stood up, walked over to a booth, and sat down there, that he really answered her question.

"How do you think I feel, man?"

“Probably about the same as me...It's not as if I'm assuming you're feeling happy about things right now Jay. I just.. I dunno. Wanted to see if you were at least feeling.. relatively okay with things?”

"I feel like everything's just gotten really screwed up for no good reason and I don't know how to fix it."


After a 15 minute wait, most of which Jay spent searching futilely through the stack of magazines on the rack attached to the examination table he was seated on, another nurse came in. This one was clearly human. A little on the portly side, with black hair tied back into a bun, she greeted Jay with a weary smile.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Okay, I guess.”


“What are you here for today?” The woman wasted little time with pleasantries, getting right down to business. In a clinic this busy, bed side manner tended to be a luxury, not a necessity.

“This.” Jay turned the left side of his face towards the nurse, pointing at the scratches that went from close to his ear to near his mouth. “Went camping. Got attacked by a bear. Need to see if it gave me rabies or anything like that.”

“Do you have any medical records with you today?”


“No.”

“Is there anything we should know about your medical history?”

“How much time you got?” Jay responded, laughing. The nurse looked at him, tight-lipped.

“Not a lot. Do you faint at the sight of blood, or have any other issues with drawing blood that we should know about? Do you have any blood-borne diseases?”

“No.”

“Good. I will be right back.” Jay nodded to the nurse as she opened the door, stepped outside, and shut it behind her. He patted his hand on the thin paper sheet covering the examination table, half-tempted to lay down on it and take a nap. He figured it was going to be a while...
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Capistrano
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Echoes of Agony: Lydia (continued)

Post by Capistrano »

“Do you hate me?"

“... hate you? Gods, no. I don't hate you Jay.. or Soerl.. though.. I guess I would like to know what happened? That wasn't you in that ring...”

"I...don't know."

“Regardless.. it was an accident. I can't really hold that against you.”

"I'm gonna see a doctor or something tomorrow. For everything..."

“You think he'll be able to do something for you?”

"I dunno. Never been to a doctor here. Could just bleed me, like those old-timey dudes did."


After about five minutes, the nurse stepped back inside, wearing a surgical mask over her face for some reason. She carried a syringe and a yellow tourniquet in one hand and a glass vial in the other.

“Hold your arm out.” Jay dutifully extended his left arm, palm up, towards the woman. She tied the tourniquet around his arm, just above the elbow, and knotted it. She opened an overhead medicine cabinet, removing some cotton balls and a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. Unscrewing the lid, she placed a cotton ball on top of the opening, then tilted the bottle. The cotton ball was then rubbed around the inside of Jay's elbow, before tossed into the trash. She recapped the bottle, then returned to the syringe. She set one of the vials into the plastic sheath around the needle. Jay felt her bring the cool metal against the crook of his arm and then, with a swift push of the plunger, his skin was punctured. Dark red blood splashed up inside the glass quickly, then more gradually filled the container. When it was just about full, the nurse removed the vial and set it into a nearby rack. Again, she swabbed down the site where blood had been drawn with rubbing alcohol and cotton, before tearing off a small piece of the fabric and placing it over the small wound. She grabbed a band aid from the cabinet, a plain flesh-colored one that stood out a little on Jay's tanned arms, and pressed either end across his elbow.

“It's going to be a while before your test is done. Come back at the end of the day, and we should be ready.” Before Jay could say thank you, or much of anything really, the nurse scooped up the vial full of blood and walked out the door.

“Good luck with it then.”

"Yeah, you too. I think I'm gonna head upstairs and crash out now. Unless you got other stuff you need to say to me."

“ No.. rest is probably a good idea. Take care Jay... try not to worry too much?”

"I'll try. Peace out, yo."

Jay nervously kicked his legs against the examination table for a minute or so, before he finally hopped to the floor. He walked over to the doorway, pulled it open, and stepped into the hall, walking slowly and quietly towards the front of the building.

((Edited and Adapted from Live RP))
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Echoes of Agony: Epilogue

Post by Capistrano »

Jay had been told to come back to the clinic later in the day, but he was too nervous about his test results to stray too far from the building. Jay walked to a small park nearby, past the neighboring blood bank crowded outside with smokers like himself, past vacant commercial buildings with boarded-up windows and doors, past the signs optimistically hung in abandoned storefronts announcing “Now available to rent! Commercial or office space,” past sidewalks glittering with glass shards of all shapes and sizes. The park was a diamond in this rough neighborhood, separated from the street and sidewalk by a short cast iron fence. Jay walked up to the gate, which was slightly more intricately designed. There were three simple concrete pillars, with a black iron archway that looked like rosebush thorns twisting and spanning the three columns. The largest pillar sat in the center, on either side of the entrance and exit to the park. At some point, there had been gate doors there, but they were long gone, the only sign that they'd ever been present the gouges in the columns on the far left and right where they must have been attached to. Jay walked through, down a gravel pathway, into the park. He saw flowerbeds full of flowers both instantly recognizable and utterly unfamiliar. Signs had been posted in the Earth, identifying them all. Freesia. Sweet-smelling, even to Jay's nose, and white-petaled. Iris. Vibrant purples, blues, and oranges. Chrysanthemum. Fuzzy-looking clusters of petals in reds, pinks, and yellows. Honeyflower. An ordinary tulip at first glance (if not for its peculiar golden color), but a quick sniff revealed that it smelled quite similar to, well, honey. Agarlote. A lot like a white lily, but with splotches and drips and spatters of crimson all over it.

After lingering by the flowers for a bit, Jay headed for a nearby wooden bench, overlooking a large grassy field filled with children playing, dogs running, and some adults tossing a Frisbee back and forth amongst themselves. If he hadn't been so worried about his test results, it would've been a nice scene. A peaceful Friday afternoon, a cool breeze coming through the trees that ringed the edge of the clearing, the occasional joyful bark cutting through the laughter and conversations of those present. Instead, Jay was a taut wire, the fear of what he might become straining him to the breaking point. He smoked a cigarette quickly, then headed back out the way he came, down the streets and back to the clinic. This time, he didn't take in the sights and smells.

Back inside the clinic's waiting room, it was another 10 minutes before Jay's name was called again. From the tight-lipped look on the lobby nurse's face, Jay knew that, chances are, there was bad news in store. She directed him back to the examination room he'd been in earlier, and shut the door brusquely behind her. A couple minutes later, the dark-haired nurse from before came in, carrying a clipboard.

“Jay, I have good news for you. Your blood test came back negative for Lyme Disease, the plague, Cadentian hemorrhagic fever, scolaris, mycantophia, or antigerundal misotheria. You are also not a vampire, mummy, or zombie.” Jay slumped a little; there was one thing missing from that list...

“Bad news?”

“Your blood test came back positive for the lycanthropy virus.” She narrowed her dark brown eyes and brushed a strand of black hair that had escaped the bun out of her eyes. “Are you sure you got attacked by a bear?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever been attacked by a werewolf before?”

“I was attacked by a rabid dog once, when I was really young.” An exasperated and aggravated sigh escaped the nurse's lips, as she lifted her hands to her temples.

“I really don't have time for this,” she muttered under her breath. With a lack of ceremony, she thrust the clipboard toward Jay, nearly striking him in the chest. “Here, sign this-” she indicated a blank line with an X next to it, and lots of small writing above it. As soon as Jay scrawled his signature, she continued. “And take this.” She lifted up the clip, removed a pamphlet, and pushed it onto Jay's lap. He picked up and scanned the cover. Any other time, Jay might have laughed at the B-movie poster-style art on the cover: a giant, hairy wolf-man looming large over a terrified couple. A man in a grey suit and fedora and a woman in a red dress with pearls on were desperately trying to flee the werewolf's grasp. Written in large, “spooky” bubble letters on top were the words So You're a Werewolf. Now What? “Do you have any questions?” The way the nurse asked, it was quite clear that it would only bring more aggravation if he answered yes, so Jay just shook his head no. “Good. You should come back after the full moon sometime. If they don't kill you first. Don't worry, patient confidentiality still exists in RhyDin. For the right price.”

“Are-are you blackmailing me?” In response, the nurse starting rubbing her thumb, index, and middle fingers together. Jay sighed, reached into his pocket, and pulled out several silver coins. Nearly half a week's pay, just picked up earlier that day.

“That will do for now. You are free to leave.” Without waiting for Jay's response, the nurse pivoted for the door and headed out. His eyes drifted down toward the brochure, lingering on the deranged face the werewolf seemed to be making. The creature's eyes were yellow and feral, drool was dripping out of his mouth, and his prey seemed powerless to stop him. Carefully, Jay folded up the pamphlet and placed it in his back pocket, before lowering his head into his waiting hands.
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