Amel Wyther | 26 | Male | Demisexual | Leader | Mentions; All
Salen Frez | 25 | Female | Pansexual | Diplomat | Mentions; All
Eni Vizin | 27 | Non-Binary | Demisexual | Mentor | Mentions; All
Illon Elatos | 24 | Non-Binary | Asexual Demiromantic | Inventor | Mentions; All
Agris ‘Blair’ Bairugih | 23 | Male | Gay | Turncoat | Mentions; Agnar(Dir), Amel(Ind), The Others(Even More Ind)
--
“Isabella! Need you to take Esta to the med tent, patch up her arm! Salen, Eni; get in here and make sure Ambrose doesn’t have a nightmare during his nap!”
--
As soon as Salen and Eni heard the words, it wasn’t hard for either of them to figure out what exactly Amel had done. And just like in most situations during this entire mission, the two stood and made their pace brisk.
--
As she entered the tent, Salen managed to give a small, encouraging nod to Esta as her girlfriend shot her a wide-eyed glance. She didn’t waste time getting inside the tent though, not wanting to risk something happening to Ambrose- More than what had apparently already happened, that is.
--
Eni, meanwhile, was close to fuming. Again. This could’ve all been avoided had everyone sucked it up and spoken about everything that bothered them before it festered like this! They probably shouldn’t have left Ambrose to go talk to Illon but- But- It couldn’t wait! Nothing could ever wait. Why could no one ever wait?! It was almost annoying! If Eni didn’t care about the team then they would’ve put their foot down a long time ago about the whole waiting game they all loved to play! Couldn’t they see what happens when people play the stupid waiting game?! This! This is what happens!
--
But none of that mattered at the moment, because Eni had to help Ambrose. And talk to Salen. Which, what better time than while the two work together to make sure Ambrose didn’t have a traumatic flashback as a nightmare or just some other type of nightmare?
--
The two more psychically inclined got to Ambrose’s unconscious body, and took a seat, kneeling beside him. At least it wasn’t the first time they did something like this. Though, to be fair, the last time was on an enemy and they had given them a nightmare instead of, well… The opposite. Either way, it wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t even the second or third or fourth. They had enough practice at this point, they both hoped it was enough.
*~*~*~*
Amel handed Esta over to Isabella the moment she reached them, carefully of course. He didn’t want the medic to get hurt any more than she already was. He made sure not to try and initiate eye contact with Isabella as she took her, he found that he couldn’t even if he tried.
--
“Hey, starlight, you're alright! Look, I've got you now, let's get your arm patched up, okay? You'll be just fine, promise!”
--
As soon as Esta and Isabella were making their way to the med tent and the other two had gotten into Ambrose’s tent… Amel… Well, he watched to make sure that Isabella and Esta reached the med tent, and then…
--
Then he noticed the tingling in his fingers, the small tremor, the small sting at his eyes he refused to focus on. So he sent a shock between his fingers, a small one, just enough to keep him rooted in the present. It just wouldn’t do for him to get caught up in her memory right now. He needed to focus, needed to move on, needed to survive. He had done so all these years for a reason, surely. He couldn’t get distracted now. Or ever. He just couldn’t.
--
So he forced his feet to walk, his eyes to glance around the camp… The group needed tomorrow off after this. That was for sure. Starting tomorrow, he really needed to take better precautions to keep this stuff from happening… What else didn’t he know about? If Ambrose, one of the nicest here, was capable of this? What else didn’t he know when it came to his own team?
--
With things decided, he walked over to the campfire and sat down. He’d tell the team as soon as the majority of them were out here again. They would be staying here for the next day, at least, and he would be taking the night shift to keep watch of the woods. Which, thinking of… Where was Agnar?
*~*~*~*
Eni looked over to Salen and then over to Ambrose, reaching out telepathically to both after a curt nod from Salen. The link with Ambrose was easy, he was unconscious. Salen’s mind had always been… Well hidden. As if under constant guard by something. It had irked them at first, but given that they always got a headache after doing anything with Salen’s mind and they trusted Salen anyways? They let it go fairly quickly. For this though, a connection had to be made, so eventual headache be damned- Eni made the connection. It was easier when Salen knew and was willing.
--
So it was no surprise that when Eni made a connection, and created a link between the two minds they had just connected to for Salen to be able to send things through, that she was ready. Immediately, a dream-like illusion filtered through their mind and through the link to Ambrose’s in order to maintain a happy dream. A calm dream. One that would hopefully help him.
--
And most likely, the two were good enough at their powers to be able to have a conversation at the same time. Because Eni needed that conversation. They had had enough with… With all of this self-destructive, overall simply destructive, behavior from everyone. So, they looked over at Salen, and spoke. “Salen, we need to talk about my promise.”
*~*~*~*
They stayed there, curled on the dirty, bloody floor of a rotting room. Crying, dirty nails digging into thin pale skin, stomach aching with dull hunger and pain, thin hair slick with sweat, lungs burning, and metallic wet coughs wracking their small frame. They deserved this.
--
They tried curling more, dirty nails raking across thin arms as they tried and tried to make themself disappear. It was what they deserved, after failing so many times. They were always given so many chances, why couldn’t they just do anything right?
--
The arguing had stopped, or maybe they just couldn’t hear it now. Either was a possibility. They didn’t know the more likely one… They attempted to curl more, and attempted to remove their sinful existence from the world as much as possible. They must have failed at that too.
--
They heard a door open, a gasp, and then quick footsteps. They felt someone dropping down to the ground, right next to them. They felt as someone reached out towards them, slowly as if they were a wild animal… They still flinched back. The hand hesitated, they tried to curl even more, nails raking and digging, coughing up what had to be blood, and shivered.
--
They were grabbed and pulled into a… A hug… A warm hug… A suffocating hug… The tears fell faster, their thin sweaty hair was stroked, and they reached out, uncurling as little as possible in order to latch onto whoever was trying to offer them comfort. Comfort they didn’t deserve, but comfort nonetheless. They were held tightly, they held on as though life depended on them doing so. And they sobbed. And coughed. And heard a higher pitched voice mumbling, they couldn’t make out the words, they assumed the voice was trying to reassure them. The tone matched the idea. Sweet nothings going into their ear.
--
They sat there, sobbing and coughing, for quite a while. The voice never stopped, the hug never ended, the person rocked them endlessly, tried soothing them in any way possible. And when the fog of the voice cleared, and Illon could make out the sweet nothings being said, with tears drying due to exhaustion more than them truly being done… They paused.
--
Didn’t that voice belong to… Karma? Karma was holding them, rocking them back and forth, Illon was still crying. They felt like mush. They felt terrible… They were still shaking, still crying, still making a mess of themself, still acting like a little kid. The scene was familiar though, so very oddly familiar. And Illon couldn’t help but remember the comfort more than anything in that moment. They wanted it again. Selfishly wanted it again.
--
“You've made it this far, El, I'm proud of you for that. Now just keep trying, keep breathing. You deserve it, I promise you do, but you have to believe it yourself too, or else my words mean nothing.”
--
The words were jumbled, but Illon caught the gist… Their eyes stung, red from crying. Their shoulders shook, tense. And Illon’s newly bloodied hands latched onto Karma, just like they’d latched onto her so many years ago. They weren’t sure exactly what had happened back then, they didn’t want to think about what had happened. They didn’t want to have to face the memories. They just wanted comfort. They just wanted steady.
--
So they ignored the new blood on their hands and whispered apologies to Karma. Because Karma shouldn’t have to deal with them, shouldn’t have to deal with this. And Karma hated physical touch- They practically tried to jump away as they remembered that. Karma hated physical touch- What was Illon thinking?!
--
Their hands found their way back to the arms they had been raking against before, tears falling with newfound speed, they tried to curl in on themself as much as possible again. They whisper-yelled apologies to Karma, words jumbling and blending together as they tried and failed to keep everything even slightly together. They truly were the worst.
*~*~*~*
As she sat, kneeling next to Ambrose, she saw Eni look at her. A silent question, asking if she was ready. Salen nodded, curt and firm, polite and stern. She was. It wasn’t too new, not with how often the two have carried it out on enemies. One of the few times on a teammate though, the last time they had to was… Well, it was with Illon and it was only because Salen had gone to the med tent one night and seen them in what was obviously a nightmare. So she had gotten Eni in there and the two had helped. She hadn’t told Illon, she hadn’t told Esta, neither of them had.
--
Perhaps she should have. It was before Illon’s capture, after all. And they had looked miserable, maybe all of it wouldn’t have been so bad if she had told someone? She wasn’t sure… She wasn’t sure about a lot nowadays, it seemed. Which just wouldn’t do, she had a campaign to get back to when they returned to the city!
--
She felt a tingling sensation in her mind, and focused on opening up enough to allow Eni easier access. Apparently, for some reason, her mind was harder to connect to for them? She hasn’t a clue why, but… Well, what can one do? It doesn’t make too much of a difference in the long run, and the two could work around it. Obviously.
--
As soon as the presence felt solid, she reached across it, felt for the other one at the other end of Eni’s control. And… There it was! The link to Ambrose’s mind. She pulled up an illusion of music, birds, trees, rivers, flowers, and the sky; she fuzzed the edges, added a slight mist, and put everything into making it a calm, soothing dream… And she sent it over to Ambrose. As soon as it was over, the activity became a background presence in her mind, constantly streaming out a positive and soothing illusion for the traveler… She heard Eni speak.
--
“Salen, we need to talk about my promise.”
--
Salen glanced over to him, tilting her head slightly. “Which one, Eni?”
--
“The telepathy one. The one that keeps me from speaking about whatever I find out about all of you on the team.”
--
Salen nodded softly, thinking it over before settling on a simple word. “Why?”
--
Eni’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean, ‘why’? Because there’s important information I need to share, and we’re all already basically back to the city. Which was the original agreed upon time for it to end. Why not a bit early, hm?”
--
Salen sighed, and nodded. “Fair, fair. Have you spoken to Amel about this decision yet? He is the one that first told us to make the promise.”
--
Eni bit their lip, reached out to Amel, and gave him the warning sound the three had agreed upon for anything like this. “Totally, of course. Now, can we get rid of it now or not?”
--
Salen bit back a small laugh as she felt them reach out somewhere through her mind. She ignored it though and huffed. “Sure, why not? I’ll do it once the illusion truly sinks in and is able to stick on its own without me constantly feeding it to him.”
*~*~*~*
“I didn't think of that! It would make sense with me being close to Eni! Aw, I like it even more now. And that gives me an idea, I think I'll do something different than the first carving idea I had.”
--
Blair raised an eyebrow, Agnar was honestly kind of strange. It was a good strange though, he was fairly certain. A very nice strange, refreshing after… Well, everything, of the past few days or weeks or so.
--
“Hey, what's your favorite animal? And color? Oh, and flower? Don't question me, I need to know. It's important information for future references. I ask all my friends.”
--
Blair paused, blinking a few times before clearing his throat out of confusion. “Friends? We’re… Friends? Huh. Alright then… Uhm… My favorite animal is probably foxes or spiders or, uhm… Serpents, actually. Vipers and snakes are pretty cool, if you can get past the gang.” He chuckled lightly, only bare amounts of humor in it. “As for color? Green and gray, honestly. Good for camo, good for jewelry, good just in general. Very pleasing combination. As for flower?”
--
Blair paused… Flower… He looked away, heart taking a bounding leap off a cliff somewhere far away. He wondered what happened to the garden he had worked so hard on back with Ryan and Scarlet… His eyes stung, he shoved the feeling down, shoved their names into the deepest corners of his mind. And forced his voice to work. “My favorite flower is a Rosa x damasce- Er… Damask Rose, is the common name. Floribun- Uhm. Iceberg Roses are also nice. So are Rosa Madame A- Uhm… Peace Roses.”
--
Each time he almost used the scientific name, he corrected himself. Most people didn’t know the exact names, most people wouldn’t know the difference between the different roses anyways! He was already letting too much slip with the different common names, scientific names wouldn’t help anything! The ranger didn’t need to know his obsession with gardening. He didn’t need to know about the Damask Vineyard! Thinking about the garden, mentioning anything tied directly to the garden was basically a death sentence!… Wrong word choice for his thoughts, his eyes stung again. He swallowed thickly, forced out a few more words, trying to get attention off of himself. “What about you?”
Winter 
Night 
Sleet Moon: 
