Topic: Sometimes You Lose Some - Visitation (OPEN)

Mach

Date: 2015-05-03 12:15 EST
Mach was a bloody mess. That wasn't to say that the man was really roughed up any; a bruise marring his pretty boy face and a singular broken rib not even out of place were the only evident external signs of injury. No, the problem lay with the inexpiable bleeding that was occurring from the man's orifices. He seeped blood like someone on Warfarin that had just been thrown off a mountain and without a sign as to why this should have been happening.

By the time the man had arrived at the clinic he was pale as a sheet save the crimson that leaked from him, painting that frozen grin upon his lips grotesque and macabre. His flesh was cold to touch; clammy without refilling of his capillary beds leaving all this distal appendages cyanotic" a corpse barely breathing and working hard to circulate what little vitae remained within the hunter. The first 24 hours were sketchy at best with immediate transfusion of saline, blood, plasma, and platelets to stave off the severe anemia and hypovolemia that the man suffered from. Standard and more esoteric scans found no given reason for the bleeding and magical scanning seemed to be out of the question given the "magic allergy' that had been attributed to the man's current state. And so it was with no small amount of apprehension that blind measures were tried to staunch the continuous flow of blood that threatened to shut down the man's body, starve his brain and organs of much needed nutrients and oxygen carried by that draining vitae.

Six units, twelve, eighteen, twenty four" the products were poured in and just as slowly drained from the man, the medications infused having no effect on reversing this chronic state. It was confounding why his tissues just leaked out that blood that was pushed in after but a few circulations through his system. Perhaps it was a small blessing that the man's mind seemed to have gone out on the longest lunch ever, decreasing the energy need of the man's body but only just so. After the twenty eighth unit hope was dwindling for any sort of recovery, the strain on the limited resource was growing in the face of that unknown etiology. Attempts to try and recycle some of that bled vitae only seemed to send the man's body into fits of convulsions; as if the blood that had just been running in his veins minutes prior were some sort of poison afterwards.

Twenty ninth and there was some serious questions about continuing such extreme life saving measures given no guarantor or individual appointed to make decisions for the man that seemed for all intents and purposes a vegetable without hopes of turnaround. The man's phone was locked and locked hard against snooping eyes but at the same time it may have been laughable to think that the carefree Mach would have anyone to contact in case of such an event. Or perhaps more accurately it was highly unlikely he'd have one because he'd not want anyone contacted given the brazen carelessness which he'd continuously conduct himself" which had landed him in this situation to begin with.

But then at the thirtieth something changed. The man stopped bleeding"from everywhere: his esophagus, his gastrointestinal tract, out his nose, ears, and eyes. It was as if a switch had been flipped and the man's body decided that it was done being difficult. Thirty one, thirty two' slowly the man's hemoglobin and hematocrit climbed with each unit prompting a change in care. A banana bag as well as other nutritionally supplemented IV's were started to try and balance out the man's horrendous blood chemistry though it seemed his body was not only on board with this but doing a miraculous job of trying to assist in this effort.

By the second day the man's reset rib was already starting to knit together, that bruise upon his features healing over at an incredible rate. One would have suspected he'd have popped up at any moment to rush and try and make the Fires of Beltane celebration. This was Mach after all" any reason to celebrate, to party. But he would not' and come the third day he looked to be well on the way to full recovery healing up at an unnatural pace with his features unmarred and his body chemistry no worse for wear. And yet' and yet consciousness still eluded the hunter, the man's mind not returning from whatever dark recess it had sunk into. Brain scans found activity' but it was weak, muted, distant.

And so that was how Mach was: stable if not strong, comfortable, IV feed, and comatose to the world around him.

(This is an open thread, please feel free to come and visit Mach at the hush, hush clinic in the Old Temple district. PM me with any questions and have some fun!)

Claire Gallows

Date: 2015-05-04 00:20 EST
Set in the heart of Old Temple-South Gate, the innocuous little clinic could have passed for any run of the mill office. The brick facade served as a steady face for passersby with no windows through which prying eyes could peer. Even the entrance was void of a window, the wood looking (but actually steel) door laden with three locks on the inside. That said, none of the locks were engaged since technically speaking the clinic was "open" for "business". It wasn't often that Claire came to Old Temple anymore since becoming overlord, staying away from the city unless business called. While this wasn't a Caelum dealing, it was in fact personal business just the same. As a warning, she rapped her knuckles against the heavy door before shouldering through, securing it in her wake. Eyes adjusted to the ambient light and swept over the plainly decorated sitting room. Neutral, muted tones ranged from cream to beige and back to cream with the sole exception of various dark wood accents in the form of end tables and wooden frames. A redheaded elf in flowing silks sat behind a mahogany desk, pencil ticking over a piece of paper lined with boxes and numbers. Less budget, more puzzle. She looked up to meet Claire's gaze with vibrant emerald eyes and a pretty smile.

"Lady Light, tis good to see you!" The elfess rose from her seat and stepped out from behind the desk, arms wide and fingers beckoning. Claire afforded her a tight smile and stepped into the hug if only for a moment.

"You as well, Aemilia. Is Doc in? I was hoping to talk to him..." Claire said softly, releasing the woman and stepping back to peer down the short hallway into the clinic proper. The sight of many a Caelum Enterprises enforcer patch up, it was a convenient way to avoid unnecessary questions at the more public clinics. It was not, however, well equipped to handle someone on the precipice of death. Aemilia chewed her lip, a shake of her head sending reddish waves swaying.

"No, another run to the blood bank just in case it starts up again. They're starting to wonder if he's a vampire, he's run for so much," Aemilia was quiet as she spoke, watching Claire's silent appraisal of the back hall. Contemplative as the pink haired Overlord was, the elfess thought it better if she didn't interrupt the woman's reverie. Claire would have to be sure to thank the woman later, slipping down the hall and hanging a left into one of two rooms set up for so called patients.

Typically Dr. Sabbatini saw to the usual bumps and bruises that befell the solid men that made up the enforcer team. Either that or the more sports related injuries of Claire's dueling team. The occasional gunshot or stab wound was typically the extent of excitement for him but that wasn't to say he didn't know what he was doing. In fact, he was intrigued by the case of the bleeding man, finding no discernible point of injury other than the probable allergic reaction to magic. That said, Claire was still rather surprised by the sheer number of machines and other equipment squeezed into the little room, each efficiently tucked into every nook and cranny like some sort of Tetris-meets-Operation just in the event the odd man began bleeding once more. In contrast, the room across the hall consisted of nothing but the bare essentials; a cot, a rolling stool, a tray of instruments. It seemed every resource had been poured into keeping the comatose man alive.

Claire didn't dare enter, worried about even getting close to the steady beep-beep-beep of the monitors. She was no doctor, the extent of her medical knowledge relegated to a crash course in field medicine, but she knew hopeless when she saw it. And there was nothing that she could do to fix him. In that moment, she was one hundred percent certifiably helpless. Her arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to hold herself together and she tried not to think of Serah too much. Hopeless. Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless. A losing battle, a long lost war.

"You better not die, you stubborn son of a bitch," though she spoke she doubted she was heard and with her two cents given, she backed out of the room, retreating down the hall and back to the cozy waiting room. Blowing right past the desk, she was quick to slip out the front door.

"Mila, have Doc give me a call when he knows more, please," with her request made on more than one front, her business was finished and she left the little clinic behind.

Deviously Charming

Date: 2015-05-04 03:06 EST
The demoness had intended to stay with Mach when they reached the hospital. She honestly had. But then she stepped out of the sedan, and saw him in the back seat. Still bleeding, dying. And she freaked out. She couldn't do it. She couldn't sit there and do nothing. It was all that she had done when Nicoli's heart started giving out on him. Watched as he'd clutched at his chest, and took one last struggling gasp, before falling still. She couldn't do that again. Not with Mach.

So she took off, and didn't return until late morning the next day, after she had spoken with Gothrak, and he had talked her calm enough to be able to go back and actually try to see Mach. She argued for about twenty minutes with two nurses, finally threatened to do some not so nice things to them if they didn't let her in to see him. So they went and got his doctor for her to speak with. Ten minutes later, after a few growled threats, and pushing the doctor around like an insistent mother would a child, they finally let her in. Without having to be told, she had dragged a chair to the corner, where she would be out of the way, climbed up into it with her knees drawn to her chest and just watched. She didn't bother them as they fought to save Mach's life, and they left her be, mainly because they didn't doubt that she'd follow through on her threats.

The morning turned into afternoon, Time passed, and they just kept replacing what he lost with more blood, only to have it seep right back out. and need to be replaced again. It seemed endless. And with each transfusion, her worries climbed again. And the room felt suffocating. So she left. Went back to the inn so she could go to her room, and change, and found Serah. So after she changed, she talked with the woman. Insisted she saw Mach before she did what ever it was she was planning to do.

When she returned, a second time that day, more into the evening, he still hadn't improved. Though it was probably a good thing that she had missed his violent reaction to them trying to recycle the blood, because she probably would have murdered a doctor. This visit was shorter. Only an hour or so, before she felt the need to get out, and lose the stench of the hospital, and rusty copper. She lost herself, down by the docks, in the push and pull of the waves. Screamed curses to the sky, and at herself. At Serah. At Mach. At life in general. And then Carla found her, lost, broken, not quite right. It was amazing what a good hug and talking about things could do, even for just a little bit.

Saturday morning, was started out at the hospital, where she found Mach looking better. He was healing. Which was a big turn around from the night. Serah had mentioned that he was too stubborn to die, so she was hopeful. Most of the day was spent in the corner, and out of the way, because even though he was stabilizing, there was still a constant humm of activity around him. When evening came, she left again, and once more sought solace in the water. Saw, what she assumed to be the fires of Beltane. This time her evening had gone uninterrupted.

The third morning, Sunday, she came in early. Was greeted with silence in the room other than the beeping of what ever monitors they had him hooked up to. Her chair, which had stayed in the corner for the past two days, was placed back besides Mach's bed. On top of it was what looked to be a small goodie bag, which on closer inspection, had various expensive chocolates within, and a small note attached, that read:

'I know it's tough, but thank you for letting us do our work. Hang in there. -Nurse Sheryl'

The gesture brought a ghost of a smile to her face. The bag was set aside, before she perched, knees to chest in the chair once more. Then she rocked forward just enough to catch Mach's hand, which thankfully didn't have much attached to it in the way of IVs, and rested it atop her knees. For a long time, she just kinda sat there and traced the planes of of his hand with her fingers.

"Serah's going to come visit you. I told her she should." She had no clue if he could hear her words. But she's trying. She had to do something, or else she felt like she was going to go nuts. Silence fell and lingered for a little while longer after she spoke, before she did so again. "You look better. You're not bleeding all over everything again. You're healing. That's a good thing, right' It should be."

She sucked in a breath. Let it out slow. "I'm sorry I tried to heal you, and probably made things a hundred times worse. You're an ass for not telling me though." Her hands moved to play connect the dots with his knuckles. "It was terrifying. I really thought you were going to die that night." She leaned back in the chair, let her eyes tick towards Mach's comatose- face. "I think someone mentioned that they gave you new blood almost thirty something times. They probably would have stopped a lot sooner, if I wasn't here." A faint snort followed a soft laugh.

"Serah told me that the best thing that I could do was be here for you. So I'm trying. Y'know? Sorry I wasn't really here for the first two days. It was just....Hard. I couldn't see you possibly getting any better, with what seemed to be almost every part of you bleeding. I didn't think it was ever going to stop. I'm glad it has now. " She fell quiet for a couple of ticks. "Don't make me go to another funeral, Okay' That's the only thing I'm asking you for."

She leaned her head forward, and brushed a kiss against his hand, before her head tilted to rest on his hand. Everything inside felt a little calmer now that he was at least stable. She stayed like that for a long time. Some of the nurses speculated that she had fallen asleep. None of them were brave enough to actually try and rouse her. Regardless, if anyone else came in to visit him during the day they would probably find her just like that, knees tucked to chest, Mach's hands on her knees, and her head resting a top that.

It was probably the first time she'd slept since Mach had been in here.

It was a good thing the nurses hadn't bothered her.

Valentine Song

Date: 2015-05-04 08:32 EST
Val made her appearance when no one else was around, not because she was being polite and allowing others some privacy, no, it was because she was choosy about whom she shared quiet moments. She also didn't do the asking permission thing, thanks to the technology she possessed it was an easy matter of avoiding people and doing a short teleport into his room.

Her golden eyes scanned the apparatus around him before she made a soft tsking noise. "Clumsy, primitive, annoying." A moment's pause before she added. "And the medical equipment could use upgrading as well, yeah?" She didn't try to help, she was not a doctor, her only means of repairing people the med patches that were not currently configured to his particular physiology. "If you did not want to go on anymore warehouse cleanings with me you could have just said so, no need to go quite so drama queen, yeah?"

She moved up until she was hovering over him, her gaze searching for signs of Mach in the shell. One hand rose and moved to flick his forehead, watching for any reaction. "I would call you foolish, but I think we both know that is an act. Surprised I know it is an act' I spend most of my time in public acting...takes one to know one?"

The silence that fell was broken only by the sound of the machinery. "I found that friend you spoke about. The one you could be yourself around. Even I have someone I can be myself around, Mach....or the version of me that I think is the true part. Sometimes it is difficult to tell, yeah' Too many smokescreens thrown up to distract others and suddenly some of it is what we are in the end."

There was a distraction of others moving in the hall, they were speaking about trying to recycle his blood. "Primitive." Val leaned in and kissed his cheek. "But not yet ready to be replaced. Get better, Mach or you will make me very angry. You have seen somewhat angry Val, very angry Val is not so pretty."

When they came in to do the work Val was gone, the only trace of her visit was the subtle scent of vanilla left on Mach's cheek, and even that faded in a few moments.

Gothrak

Date: 2015-05-04 21:25 EST
It had been a couple days since he'd witnessed the whole debacle and helped get Mach the medical attention he needed. He had meant to come along to check on him sooner but another emergency had reared its ugly head and occupied the majority of his thoughts.

So finally, after the weekend came and went, the large demon in disguise made an appearance. He wasn't sure if Serah had been by to see if Mach was okay and he had promised to report the human's status to her via text when he knew more. He knew Sarai had been to visit the patient since considering their conversation the last time he'd seen her.

He stood at the foot of Mach's bed with his large arms crossed over his chest, a neutral look on his face that could be mistaken for a scowl. "You'd better not die, Mach." Gothrak grunted after a few moments, breaking the monotony of the blipping machine, "It upsets me to see women cry over an idiot. Especially women I care for. So...get better and save me the headaches, ah?"

There was nothing else he could do and nothing else he wanted to say; he'd done what he promised to do and check up on his well-being. So, with the task complete, the denizen of Hell 9 headed out of the building.

Mach

Date: 2015-05-05 22:45 EST
That schism of the hunter's soul had split the man into numerous parts, each a distinct and unique him yet still part of the whole. It was an interesting feeling to be sure, though that was only if one took into account various degrees of the term "interesting" for it felt at same time liberating as it did broken. And more than likely it meant that there was likely far too much Mach for any realm to ever possibly want running around, though it was at least a small comfort that the spectral apparitions of the man were generally well under the perception range of most folks. And so the man hung out at places that were of interest to him in life or followed those that interested him for various reasons.

= = = = =

Mach followed stoically behind Claire as she traveled down to the clinic in the Old Temple district to visit the stiff" his stiff. It really was kind of unpleasant to think on things like that. He followed the woman into the small clinic, a tick of blue eyes blue checking out the receptionist as well as a comfortable waiting room. It was the first time that this one had been in the clinic since the night of the schism, or perhaps more accurately the first time that Claire had visited it with Mach in tow.

Following the woman down the hall he'd feel that familiar presence just sort of be suddenly as they moved.

"Are you not following the wrong pink haired one"" The shrouded woman spoke in even tones without inflection, without judgment. Curiosity perhaps, though it was very easy to miss that slight inflection of a question as the woman's face painted like a skull rarely ever changed from that neutral state.

"No, that would be if I were following Zofie around?" Not that he'd ever admit that he'd done just that at one point. But that wasn't his fault! It was just that some of the finer details of the living world began to get fuzzy when one was reduced to a lesser spirit. The man waved off the thought with a hand. "No, I've been meaning to follow Claire around. She is very much in tune with some of what?s been going on with Serah' or at least what may become of the woman. And she cares I think" what sibling doesn't care for their other?"

"I believe the tale of Cane and Able would come to mind....and are you sure you are not simply forcing your own views of broken sibling love and care upon those two""

The hunter shot the shrouded one a withering glance. "Shush you. Anyway, I know this one cares."

There was a tilt of head as the reaper considered this. "And how is that""

The man simply pointed to that room filled with whirring, ticking machinery that worked to keep his body alive, the biohazard bin next to the bed filled with empty product bags and medications. "I don't think she cares much for me". don't blame her honestly. But she's still footing the bill for this" still concerned about my continued life if only because of the effect my death would have on her sister."

The two looked to the woman as she held herself, comforted herself against that feeling of helplessness and then there were those words.

"I believe she just threatened you."

Mach smiled thinly. "Yeah' terms of endearment' don't mind that." A shrug as he coasted along, following after the woman as she moved to leave.

"You still intend to follow her" Whatever you may learn you kn""

The man flapped his hand dismissively at the woman cutting them off. "Yeah, yeah, memories don't travel between the realm of ether and that of the living" or I'll kick it. It's still good to keep tabs on things until the end. Besides" just imagine what juicy gossip I could learn to tell me" other me's". me"e"e"es"." A shrug as he stopped trying to figure out the details and simply waved to the shrouded one as he traveled along in the pink haired ones wake.

- - - - -

The shadow of Mach that followed after Gothrak was sullen. It wasn't that following around after the man was particular difficult or hair raising, but more the demon was a lot of sausage and this Mach got stuck staking out this gruff and grumpy demon rather than any one of the cute women that had been at the debacle which lead to his current predicament. But then he supposed not all lots could be fair. The wheel always kept on turning" though the thought that he as Mach was at this very moment both lucky and getting shafted at the same exact time was worth a giggle.

Blue eyes blue ticked between the slacker just lying there grinning like an idiot in the bed and the burly man that stood at the foot scowling.

"Another pleased relation it would appear." That gaze ticked over to the painted woman standing in the corner, bony fingers laced gently before her.

"Don't really know a whole lot on this one." Mach noted mildly, a motion of head to Gothrak. "Gruff, grumpy, cuddly, loving" a friend of Serah's and lover of Zynn" needs a suit." And now the man smirked, a wry smile crossing him as those blues watched the quiet exchange between the corpse and the demon analytically.

"It seems a lot of your relations like to threaten you."

The man smirked. "Hurts my little feelings too?" A wry smile pulled upon him before blues ticked back to the demon. "Tried to warn me too' to let things lie. Suppose I really am an idiot."

The woman's head titled ever so slightly, curious. "So you think he was right" "

Mach looked to the reaper, that mild smile thinning at the thought. "Hell no." A wry chuckle though the mirth did not reach his eyes. "We all need a push even if we might hate it sometimes."

"I thought your pushing had been the onus for another breakdown prior""

"True" but I've been better" smarter, I think" pushing only when it seemed appropriate."

"You may wish to rethink 'appropriate' if you somehow return."

There was a look from the hunter before laughter bubbled out from the man at that sly observation made in the deadest of pan manner. "True....true....I may well have to..." That bit of laughter quickly died down as blues returned to his comatose self, that smile anemic.

"Of course...I doubt I would....can't stand to just sit on my thumbs and watch someone fall apart..."

"Even to your own detriment' Or as you yourself fall apart""

The man chuffed, a point to the painted woman. "Hey....that's why I'm Mach. Pass go over all those complications...yeah?" Blues followed after the demon as they stalked out from the room, a sigh escaping as he followed after. "On the bright side, I may not have to worry about such over long. Either way, the wheel keeps on turning." A lazy salute back and this one was gone.

JewellRavenlock

Date: 2015-05-06 13:59 EST
Few could deny it: The Empress had presence. She swept into the clinic like it was her clinic (note to self Jewell, you need a clinic in Old Market), her smile a sweet curve of red-painted lips for the nurse working the front desk. "I just knew I would get lost trying to find this place," she exclaimed immediately as she approached the desk, "but Eli did always prefer to recoup in places like this. Not to say that it isn't a charming establishment." Grey eyes did a quick circuit of the clinic lobby and hallways within sight. "Ah yes, it is quite nice."

"Um...ma"am?" The woman eyed Jewell, completely baffled. The Faerie looked like she was dressed for a society lunch in her short yellow dress and perfectly coordinated red accessories not a visit to a dying man (though some might argued that dressing up as such to see a dying man could promote the return of? vitality).

"I'm here to see my husband," she paused and coughed. "Well I suppose he's my soon to be ex-husband. Eli never could stay out of trouble for long, am I right' But really, who can. Not like I haven't broken our marriage vows at least a dozen times by now," she laughed.

"What?"

"So which room is he in?" Jewell looked around, peering down the hallway.

"Who?"

"Eli, of course! Why would I be here to see anyone else? Or I suppose he might be going by Mach around here." She didn't even give the young woman enough time to respond. "Come now, darling. I am very busy. Tell me which room he's in."

"Oh oh! Um...he's in there," the young woman pointed to the room.

"Thank you dear. You're a doll." The Empress sent a little air bisou bisou towards the woman before moving down the hallway.

"Just don't forget his allergy to magic!" The young woman called after her before slumping in her chair. The short exchange had left her feeling exhausted for some reason.

Jewell's smile had shifted into a self-satisfied one as she walked down the hall and into Mach's room. It faded when she saw him. There was really no question about it: Jewell did not handle death and sickness very well these days. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a little bouquet of paper forget-me-nots that she had made at the Arts & Crafts Fair earlier in the day. She set them carefully on a bedside table, avoiding both any physical contact with Mach or the technology keeping him alive. Then she slouched uncomfortably in the visitor's chair.

"So, I guess you are a bit of a troublemaker, huh' As I suspected." She shook her head, "The cute ones always are."

Jewell sighed heavily, switching her gaze away from Mach. She didn't want to study what people looked like when they had lost so much blood. She had seen it before of course, but it meant something different to her now. It reminded her of something different. "Wish you would have told me you were going to do something stupid like almost get yourself killed. At least then I could have thanked you. Not for the almost getting yourself killed part but for the trying to help me the last few weeks."

"I know you've been trying. A lot of people have been trying. I guess I appreciate it in my own way." She smirked a little suddenly, cutting a glance back at the prone man in the bed, "Probably wouldn't tell you though if you were awake. Maybe I will now though, but only if you wake up."

There was a long stretch of silence before she finally added quietly, "I think I kind of need you to wake up. I don't know if I can handle the trail of death getting much longer at this point." Leave it to a Faerie to make a charitable hospital visit all about her!

Blep

Date: 2015-05-07 01:15 EST
Good gravy, if Mach's disembodied spirit had followed Zofie on her gravity-defying journey along the outer walls of the clinic, he'd likely need the ectoplasmic equivalent of Dramamine. Her arrival came at nightfall, both for the added secrecy of the shadows, and also, just as likely, a touch of insomnia still clattering around in her noggin.

"~....thar goes the Spah-der-Maaayun...~" She added some extra twang to her rendition of the web-slinger's theme as she skittered down the wall and to the window of Mach's room, a stuffed, military-grade duffel bag planted just beneath. The window slid open as she stretched out, taking the sill in a handstand and slowly tiiiilting herself in, head first, her hair captured in a tight, yet still large braided bun to keep it in check. With a twist and a silent step into the room, she sank into a crouch, one hand pointing toward the window as the curl of her fingers beckoned the duffel up, around, and inside behind her, while the other hand closed the pane in its wake.

She pressed her lips together tightly as she splayed her toes and pricked her ears, both feeling and listening for any incoming staff or security. When none arrived, she huffed a sigh of relief and opened the duffel, pulling out all sorts of broken bits of what-have-you and a glue gun. With her eyes going large behind her glasses and a deep breath, she set to 'beautifying' the drabness of his hospital room.

The first order of business was simple; a bunch of broken Melmac bowls, truck horns, acrylic paint and bits of metal turned the IV stand into H.E.L.P.eR. from the Venture Brothers, thankfully silent of all beeps and boops, and fitted with a hatch at his back for easy access to change the bags.

The heart monitor earned a simple facade of a speaker, a handle, and tape deck buttons along its top to resemble a boom box.

A sneeze from down the hall set Zofie on alert, hopping over the bed to crouch in the dark, far corner which she shared with a few dust-covered cotton swabs. She narrowed her eyes at them in consideration, quirked her lips, then shook her head before covering the respirator's designation with letters carved from cheap tile to read Fart Dispenser.

As she rose to her feet, she finally turned to face Mach's prone body, scrunching her lips to one side as she reached into her bag for one, final item; a simple black marker. "I'm sure someone comin' in after me is gonna git all mad after I do this, cuz you're in a real-ass coma, but hopefully someone'll git that this comes from a place of optimism." She closed her eyes, inhaled, and uncapped the marker. "It comes off with a washcloth ennyway."

With an ear to the door and her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth, Zofie began her doodles on Mach's exposed skin, from kindly missives of Wake Up Soon to saucy lady tattoos, to the fabled dickbutt dead center on his forehead and a very fanciful handlebar mustache. His knuckles got the treatment of spelling out butthead as her final tribute.

As she capped her marker, Zofie scrunched her mouth and crossed her arms, peering down at the fellow she barely knew outside of his off-color humor and coffee-related pranks. "Heckuva place to be in, stuck how y'are. It ain't really my call, and I dunno how much of it is yours, but if y'did wake up, there's a lotta people who'd be thankful around here." She stuck two fingers toward the window and moved them up, bidding the pane to open once again as she crawled through. "I might come back to refresh the doodles, dependin' on what kinda flavor of pissed off people git."

As she sunk down, pulling the emptied duffel in behind her, she spared one last peep over the windowsill. "G'night, dude."

Mach

Date: 2015-05-07 21:06 EST
This Mach had a real bitch of a time following after the golden eyed woman that moved in sly manners aided by her madsci tech. Being a ghost certainly seemed to help but only just so and there were still odd skips and jumps, gaps in his observation of the "unreal" woman. Of course he had made note of some other interesting things while attempting to tail the woman: a few new dive spots to try, a few new spots he would probably do best to avoid, and a couple of interesting fellows kicking around, inquiring after him and the woman that had no right or reason to. It was all very curious to say the least and bore further investigation' but then Mach really wasn't up to acting on any such reconnaissance he may gather and he wouldn't remember such. So for the time being he'd just follow Val around, take swings to send chills down folks spines that tried to go after her, and try to keep that healthy worry over the woman's safety stoked so when he returned he might get off his ass and do some investigation when it might do some good. What if he didn't come back" Why the hell should he have thought of that' he was god damned Mach' and apparently this one of him had gotten stuck with all the pretentious self-assurance.

It was a surprise to the man though that one of Val's stops seems to have brought him to the clinic where his body now lay, living yet not so. There was a quirk of brow as blues ticked between the woman and the living corpse, a wonder at how she knew he had been incapacitated. But then again he was sure there was at least some word on the street, at least at his missing a number of Beltane parties which was not like his persona in the least. The woman was resourceful, though it was still a strange thought that she should have been wasting any of those resources to keep an eye out on him of all people.

Just then hairs stood on end at the back of his neck. "Sulking are you?" He spoke mildly, just assuming that that one was there.

"Sulking would require a degree of trying to hide my presence while feeling displeasure at something, neither of which I am. I am simply observing." The cloaked woman quirked her head to the side, a curious pose as the ballsy Mach made a mocking hand gesture in time with her words.

"Yeah, yeah?" A mild snort as the man simply watched the scene unfold before him, a smile upon him as he listened to that one sided banter.

"I do not believe your relations have very positive views on you."

Mach smirked as he heard that. "I don't blame most of them' not exactly putting forward a very flattering image usually." That humor turned into a gaff as Val called him out on that exact thing. Of course it didn't really surprise him that the woman could see through his smoke and mirrors act nor that she was so blunt about such a fact. It was very much true that they shared likely some of the worst characteristics" but even then, it was still shared camaraderie.

"Do you believe that 'friend' she speaks of is you?" The cloaked ones words withered that gentle smile upon the hunters face as he tried to focus on the one way conversation.

"No, I don't think so.....she likely mean's Ray. Good guy from what I've gathered, I'm glad she's found someone like that."

"If I recall your memories right you had told her you had such a person in your life."

Mach smiled lightly. "Stretch of the truth....had. But then I think both she and I have our fair share of smokescreens, the lies we tell others and ourselves to survive yeah?" That smile thinned a touch at the woman's kiss to his cheek, a flicker of doubt cast at his certainty in that assertion of just how valuable or not a friend he may be to the woman.

"Again another threat. Is that what is called a 'carrot' to you?"

The man smirked, perhaps a touch glad for the distraction from those uncomfortable thoughts as blues ticked back to the cloaked one. "Another..." No, I think you mean sticks, but I think I respond better to those anyway....probably..." His gaze moved back to the bed, the unreal woman missing from that picture. "Oh God damnit! Now I have to find her again...!" A wary sigh dropped from the man, a shake of head and he was off to try and find Valentine once more.

= = = = =

The Mach that followed after Sarai felt worn, drug through the mud repeatedly yet by his own volition, willingly even. When the pieces of the man had fragmented, drifted away to parts far and unknown he knew exactly what he had to do....and how much it would pain him to do it. But then Sarai had no business in that ill-fated encounter between Serah and him. She should never have witnessed him bleeding, dying. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way, not after what he'd learned of the woman.

The man was there when she'd fled as the panic and helplessness clawed and tore at her resolve. He was there to witness her bullheaded insistence to watch the doctors and nurses try and stabilize him, to witness that gambit of emotions that stole across her near catatonic features as she observed him bleeding to death. At that chance meeting and exchange with Serah he took time to argue with....himself. Or more that apparition which had opted to follow the pink haired one at that schism. The words exchanged in glib manner were inconsequential and raw, an ideological argument or some such where they both agreed but still perceived things just differently enough to not really agree. It didn't matter either way, both of them were more focused upon the exchange between Sarai and Serah than among themselves, watching to make sure things didn't go south all over their account. And when it ended cordially, or as cordially as could be expected, there was a shared sigh of relief. The two Machs left each other with a lazy salute to the other before following after their respective wards, concerned over who they had placed most value over.

At the docks the man struggled as he watched the woman rage against the world, kick the sea and howl obscenities to the moons above. It was heart wrenching to witness, a feeling that seemed to be transmitting a lot across that bond between each of the different 'hims' lately. Blues watched as he grit his teeth, his muscles tense with the inability to do anything but keep a vigil....helpless, worthless. When the woman....cheetah girl....came along and brought some manner of comfort to the anguished Sarai, the contact and words he could not provide, he felt immeasurable relief and gratitude as well as that crushing guilt. If he saw that girl again he would have to thank her....and probably apologize for drawing upon her in permanent marker.

The next day and evening were spent in relative peace, following the woman and keeping an eye upon her as he thought on many thing: the past, the present, who he was, who he is, who he should be, what could be done....thoughts to while away this pseudo existence in limbo. He dared not think that the one with the poker chip would not resolve things, that they would only fuck things up some more. He couldn't leave the woman, couldn't leave Sarai like this. Not like this. In the distance he noted the fires of Beltane burning on the horizon, the sound of merriment buzzing across the city though, oddly out of character, the man had no stomach for the carnival of debauchery. That wasn't this Mach's particular brand of smokescreen it seemed.

On the third day the woman arrived to find his body alone, that chair pulled over so she may sit with him proper. A note was made of that peace offering left by the clinical staff, a touch of a smile pulling upon ragged features before blues ticked over his comatose form. The man looked mostly healed and normal thanks to the residual effects of that regeneration potion regimen he was on as a hunter though he knew this state wouldn't last. Three more days....he needed to get his shit together and recover in three more days before he started dipping into that trough of medication activity and then....He shook his head to dispel that thought. He didn't.....couldn't let Sarai witness that. As she tucked herself upon that chair the phantom of a man draped himself upon the woman's shoulders.

"You worry greatly over that one. Is it because they actually threaten in your name rather than against it"

Mach's features twitched ever so slightly at the voice that rattled in his mind. For the most part he'd been ignoring that reaper as they tried to address him, to engage him during his vigil of the demoness. The man had had little patience for their probing questions, their thought provoking inquiries. Maybe it was the closeness of Sarai to his peacefully slumbering form that gave him the patience to whether the creatures words today, or perhaps he was just tired of having no one to speak with that could hear him in kind. "This shouldn't be happening to her....and certainly not because of me....not over me." His voice had a hollow, airy feel to it.

The woman's shourded head tilted slightly."Would it not happen regardless" Have you not made some connection with this one, a bond. As I understand grief would always be experienced over the loss of another one shares a bond with."

Mach sighed. "Context....she witnessed my fall....was there....hurt me while trying to help....she shouldn't have that on her. Neither of them really....but this one in particular....she shouldn't be hurt because of my stupidity, my insistence in helping another that got me..." A dismissive wave of hand to the room in general, and indication of this.

"One can not control the circumstances of their death."

"Bullshit. A little foresight and planning can make for a perfectly neat end. Just have to be clever and sly."

A tilt of head the other way as the reaper looked between the two."Will that make things easier for this one""

The man fell silent for a long moment as he tucked his hands around the woman's waist, enveloping her in a gentle hug that she'd probably never realize was happening. He could feel the contact, her warmth and presence ever so slightly....as if holding her while wrapped in layers of wool. Yet her contact on that warm, calloused hand; the play of fingers along his palms, the rest upon her knee felt like electricity. A reminder that he and that man were the same and yet at this moment so very much different, broken. He listened to her words, apologetic and sad, a brave face trying to coax him back to the world, to life....to her. "Yes....yes it would....or I believe so at least....I would vanish like a dream, out of sight, out of mind. No funeral, no service....just an end, a footnote." His lips thinned as he thought on this, a kiss pressed into the woman's hair mindlessly out of habit.

"But the bond would still be severed. Elitia Vance Turner will still cease to be in her world. Would not that simple fact bring her harm"" That thinning of lips only furthered as the reaper called out his inner thoughts, a silent curse at the game this thing seemed to play.

Rather than answer he rested his chin on the Sarai's shoulder as she spoke, focused on listening to that plea that he not force the woman to anguish as Nicoli had with his death. His lips pulled into a frown as he was getting it stereo it seemed. "It...will....but it's all degrees yeah' How much harm I leave at my passing..." He fell silent at that thought....his passing. As soon as the next few hours and at latest' Perhaps it was that thought that bothered him most of all, the fact that he knew there was an end in sight no matter what he may have wanted, no matter if he survived this event his existence was limited regardless. A product of his own poor choices and his resolve to leave something of worth behind in the world. He knew he was going to fail the woman, fail everybody and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

Silence fell between the two for a long moment before the reaper posed one last question. "Why create these bonds then if you must destroy them in the end""

The question struck Mach like a cane across his back, a twitch crossing rugged features. "Because....I'm a coward....I can't live alone. Without some connections....some bonds....some..." He squeezed into the woman, his face burying into her hair....a gesture of comfort as he could not smell, could not feel. "....hmm....without those, I'd loose all hope and would find nothing but despair. And no one can live for that alone. Bonds are what make us..."

He felt that jolt of electricity as Sarai graced his flesh with a kiss before her form relaxed as she rested upon his hand, enveloped in that spectral hug. He himself settled in, intent to be her shield as little as he could be. "...and what break us...only thing you can do is....is minimize the damage done..."

If the reaper spoke any more he did not listen, did not pay attention as he focused on the woman and his thoughts. Thoughts of self and of others, of what he wanted....and what had to be done....and how those two things just didn't quiet seem to mesh. But then, when did they ever" And so the day passed.

Mach

Date: 2015-05-11 12:05 EST
This Mach was sort of dazzled and terribly depressed following around after the Empress, the woman who got the brunt of his dazzling womanizing schmoozness in life. But then she so seemed to need a distraction, someone who was there and yet not demanding of anything, a caring fool which was a role the hunter could fill quite well. And why would he think this" Because the man lived by smoke and mirrors, masques and personas that he put forth to try and steer others away from the ugliness or unpleasant truths that lurked just beneath the surface" and Mach could see all the flags of such wearing upon the faerie.

And so for the past few days he had done with the woman in this pseudo afterlife as he did in life. He followed her around and regaled her, unheard as they would go, with stories and experiences both truthful and fantastic and everything in between as he kept a vigil upon her. He witnessed her life knowing there was little difference it would make once" if he made back, but that didn't mean he had to give up. If there was something this Mach was good at it was near stupid amounts of optimism whether true or forced!

Following the woman that moved like royalty into the clinic the phantom Mach looked around, taking in the place as the woman brewed her particular brand of trouble. He had to wonder who exactly this off kilter banter was for: the people watching to throw them off her trail" Mach who may awake and get a kick that he was visited by someone that so stirred up trouble over his account' Or perhaps herself to try and cover over that unease that may have fallen over her to find the usually glib hunter now holed up, comatose, in some clinic in the Old Temple district' Maybe something else? Maybe all of them' Whatever the reason they were unknowable to the man who simply watched though there was a blink at the story she weaved.

"I was not aware that you had wed anyone in your life. Close, but had that not fallen apart"" There was a shift of those blues to the sickly pale woman clad in black that loomed in the corner"or as he had taken to calling her Sunny.

"Well, look who it is" wondering when you'd pop up once again" A wry grin was offered to Sunny as the man ticked a look back to the fae as she sewed her mischief.

"Why does this one lie about what she is to you?"

Mach simply shrugged. "Wish fulfillment maybe?" He chuckled as he started to follow after the woman, that question weighing upon him heavily though he'd not show such. The hunter thought he kept people at a distance with his overly buoyant manner but Jewell was in another league" and this only worried him more as he well understood this sort of avoidance. The faerie was working hard to hide something, something so terrible that it required this level of deception, of glamour and exploitation of natural charisma.

This very fact was only confirmed as he watched that woman's dazzling smile fade away when she was alone with his warm corpse. Blues watched as she moved, that paper bouquet presented, a seat taken avoiding contact, her gaze cast away while she spoke. He smirked at that accusation of being a troublemaker, a shrug in response and another for failing to inform her of his unexpected fall.

"This one is filled with a lot of regret." Mach looked over at Sunny, a quirk of brow. Damn, that couldn't be good if a manifestation of the ether given form by a dying mind that was prone to only speaking in questions made such a blunt observation.

"Yeah"." A tick of blues back to the fae. "'sorry to add to the burden"." An astral hand rose to give the woman a pat, the digit pausing just before the contact. Mach knew better" he was a spirit and it wasn't going to be by experimentation that he'd find out if Jewell was a faerie that had a strong affinity for controlling or consuming spirits as the fae of his homeland where prone to do. No, his hand would skim just over her glamour before it dropped....a smirk finding the man that even in this limbo she so easily shrugged off his comforting touchs.

And at that offer to tell him what was going on with her if he awoke, that bait that he so wish he could take" "Sorry again luv" not my decision' but feel free to use "me" there" fully functional body yeah' A little work and I could be the best damn dildo you ever had?" He smirked at that little exchange of japes, the touch of banter that they usually shared in life though it would be a little one sided now.

And at that admission that she wasn't sure she could handle his death, not at that time" "" Hey' Jewell" I ever tell you why I'm called Mach?" A distraction, one sided as it may have been, but it was really the only thing he could do, perhaps the only thing keeping him sane nowadays. And so he talked at the woman until she left the still comatose body to return to her court in society once more. And he....he would remain her jabbering shadow until whatever end found him.

= = = = =

This fragment of the hunter didn't follow anyone or any place in particular; rather, they just sort of? wandered. He was that free spirit, so to speak, of the idiot that got himself half-baked. Fluffing about the night time hours watching a game of cards down on the street below a flash of movement and pink would garner his attention. There was a squint as he queried porridge storage for recognition of the one that was sort of crawling around that clinic that housed his lumpy self. A moment's consideration before the name popped up: Zofie.

The fact that she could move about like that raised all sorts of interesting questions" though not nearly as interesting of questions than the most pressing one: why the heck was she breaking into his room!" Moving from his perch he sort of half Mary Poppins half Petar Panned his way to the clinic, gliding right through the wall and into that drab, dark room. Was that possible" Why not' He was a damned ghost' a concept that this Mach just sort of embraced and exploited for all it's worth.

Those blues ticked on the rather limber woman, a quirk of brow as she opened up that duffel bag to reveal" a collection of junk" And a glue gun which she seemed to handle with far too much maniacal glee than had to be healthy! The ghost Mach just sort of watched as Zofie shuffled about, gluing bits here and there to the different devices and such that was monitoring him and supporting his life. Shouldn't he be a little more concerned about this" If he was this version of him apparently missed that memo as he watched, fascinated while the woman worked.

The IV hang and pump had been turned into' a robot' Mach sort of looked over the strange amalgam of parts, his mind figuring how such a machine might actually work were it more than just a collection of life saving fluids, scrap, and glue. Hey....half the doctors he dealt with were madsci's that he'd captured over the years, so he had a passing interest in some of the things that might have been making their way into his body at some point. There was a smirk as the woman turned the robo-nurse into what looked like an old cassette player and perhaps a juvenile giggle at the words that were crafted on the respirator that kept his pulse-ox up.

"I do not understand what this one is doing" The voice of the killjoy reaper rang out from a dark corner garnering a wave off from the man.

"Having fun. Accessorizing the place." This stated simply as those blues ticked over to the woman skulking in the shadows. "Remembering or reminding others what I am in life yeah' Not one for frowns or sad faces but hopeful..." His words sort of died as he heard a familiar little 'pop' sound behind him.

A swivel as his attention snapped back to the pink bunned one would catch her drawing upon him with a marker! This had to be divine retribution for his own antics against Sardine and Cheetah Girl! Of course without a means to do anything he just sort watched as the woman went about in her artistic pursuits, a smirk here and there with even a cackle at that dickbutt in the middle of his forehead and the fancifulness of his mustache.

"Would this fall under the purview of Accessorizing"" That drab monotone belaying any sense of humor in that statement as the woman titled somber features to observe the graffiti upon the man's body. It was maddening to this one how so much better this reaper was at deadpan than he" or perhaps how humorless she may have been while still saying humorful things.

"Yes....douchbagery accessorizing but I'm not one to talk?" A glance taken at least made certain that the marker wasn't permanent; obviously Zofie was much less of an ass than he was! But then that was obvious as he heard those words, the glib humor tarnishing just a touch. "Yeah' thanks luv" hopefully working on it?" The man finally settled upon his feet, that unconscious floating quit as the man started to reconsidered the positive qualities of being a ghost.

And when the strange woman with the queer powers moved in those off ways through the window he offered a lazy salute, a sly grin curling lopsidedly upon him. "G"night birdy' see you on the flip side."

The black shrouded on turned a dead gaze on the man. "You are not going to follow after that one""

Mach simply smirked, taking a seat as his fingers steepled before him. "And miss the show when the nurses find me" I think not!? He cackled merrily before settling in to wait for the inevitable fireworks from those of much less fanciful thought as the woman or he.