while originally they could handle their injuries as Bishops, the same cannot be said when they're "mortal" and without their crowns.
Shamura: initially unconscious upon arrival and heavily bleeding. It’s only thanks to the quick work of Kallamar (who was on his feet by then) and the healers that prevented them from dying again. Upon coming out of a fragile state they're agitated, confused and aggressive; lashing out and hurting anyone who came near them, even their own siblings. Only Witness Allocer and Kallamar handled them. Eventually they settled, which happened much quicker with Narinder by their side. On bad days they tend to lash out or have episodes similar to dementia. That's thankfully happening less and less as time goes on. Sewing and knitting calms them so that's their job.
Kallamar: woke up and was unable to stand up straight and walk properly due to the damage to his ears. Eventually he succumbed to illness due to having a weakened immune system (he always had a weak one before the Blue Crown chose him.) Saleos mostly took care of him with Narinder helping. He had to be taught sign language for days when there's a lot of noise (think festivals). [Sign language is taught to many of the cultists. they may be a cult but they ARE inclusive!] Mostly avoids Narinder and tries not to catch Lamb's eye. Lives with Saleos (he was the youngest of Kallamar's disciples so he out lived Haborym and Baalzebub.) Will fall sick easily when there's sickness around, so as a healer he focuses his expertise on common colds (which he has an easier time shaking off) and physical injuries.
Heket: was choking on her blood when she awoke, would have died from blood loss had the healers not stepped in quick enough. Because of her ripped throat Heket was unable to eat food for several days, which was agony for her. All she could 'eat' was the water and thin broth the healers dripped into her mouth. Narinder and Leshy stayed by her side as she slowly recovered. Struggles to talk due to physical trauma so she had to be taught sign language to speak. She's a decent cook.
Leshy: was bleeding from his eyes but wasn't in any danger of dying. Was a pain in the ass for the healers however, he didn't make things easier with his wriggling and cursing. Once the pain eased, however, he calmed down and took his current situation well. It helped that Narinder kept him company. Occasionally uses a cane when there's crowds, more structures built, etc. Other than that he can get around just fine using the vibrations in the earth to help guide him. Is a farmer but does bartend on occasion.
TL;DR-
Shamura: where am I? i'm scared i'm angry i'm going to rip someone's arm off if they come near me where is my cat
Kallamar: oh my god i've been puking for five days straight and my head feels like it's spinning
Heket: (sad dying frog noises as her stomach growls)
Bishop was sick. Maybe he was dying. He didn’t know exactly, but he did know that everything ached. His body grew stiffer and more difficult to move each day, like molasses ran through his veins in place of blood. His vision was blurry and warped whenever he opened his eyes, though maybe that was for the best. It was easier to look up at the swimming blankness of the ceiling than the worried faces of his parents, his sister, his friends. There was only so much he could take of the grief and worry he saw there, barely concealed, like their expressions were hiding behind gossamer curtains.
He could still see their souls clearly at least, flares of color, walking light shows that danced over his vision and calmed him. They were healthy and they were safe. If he really was dying, at least he was leaving them behind full of life.
“Bishop.” Babble spoke quietly from his side, squeezing his hand where it was wrapped tightly in both of hers. “What are you thinking about?”
“Mm…” Bishop thought for a moment, giving a pathetically weak squeeze back. Answering with ‘dying’ felt a little crude. “You. And our parents.”
“Are you worried about us?” She asked, after a long pause and Bishop held back a sigh. It was a real chore keeping up a strong face when she was so adept at reading him. He supposed that there wasn’t really a point in lying, she could feel his emotions just as he could feel hers, the pain and the grief that emanated from her heart.
“I am.” He said back, freeing his hand to trace it up her arm and to her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze and turning his head until he could see her outline and offer her a smile. “But… you’ll be fine. You’re all safe, and I know that you’ll take care of our parents when I’m gone.”
“Stop- don’t talk like that alright?” She said, taking the hand from her shoulder and squeezing it again, desperate, as if she could keep him with her simply by holding tight enough. “You’re gonna be fine! Once you get better, we’ll look after them together.”
Bishop hummed and flexed his fingers in her hands. There were plenty of things he could say, he could argue that there was no saving him now, remind her that they’d see eachother again, promise that he’d still look after them even when his body was gone and his soul was free to roam, but it all seemed trite at this point. She wasn’t going to let go of him that easily, just like he wouldn’t let go of her if their positions were reversed.
He hardly wanted to think about it, losing his family, they were his everything. Maybe there was some selfish part of him that was glad to be the first to go, so he wouldn’t be the one to feel that pain.
“Will you read me something?” He asked Babble, giving her hand another squeeze, “I haven't been able to read like we used to.”
There was a hesitancy in the way that Babble slowly let go of his hand and peeled herself from the chair at his bedside to wander over to the bookshelf along his wall. Her gaze was heavy each time she turned to look at him, as if leaving him for a few moments to find a book was too much. He laughed quietly and raised a hand to wave.
“I’m not dead yet.” He said, voice light with a smile. Babble apparently didn’t find it as funny if her petulant silence was anything to go by. Seconds ticked by without so much as a rustle of clothes or annoyed sigh, Bishop’s easy smile growing more exasperated. “Oh come now, Babble, it was just a joke.”
Seconds turned to minutes and Bishop’s smile dropped further. Was she crying? He couldn’t hear any sniffling or even her breaths anymore. “Babble? Dear, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
He couldn’t… Come to think of it, he couldn’t feel her anymore.
“Babble? Are you still there?”
Bishop’s arms were impossibly heavy as he tried to push himself up, refusing to move the way he wanted to, stiff at his sides. His chest was heavy as his breathing grew faster, panic rising from his lungs to his throat when he realized he could barely move at all. Where had she gone? He had to find her. He had to… get out of this bed, and find her.
He fell out of bed more than anything, the pain as he hit the ground shooting through his shoulder, fiery and intense for a moment before it numbed altogether and faded, like the presence of his sister had. Bishop was panicked now, desperately trying to make his body obey as he reached out and dug his nails into the floor to drag himself to where Babble’s energy had once been. He couldn’t see her colors anymore, the bright refracted rainbows of her being gone, leaving his vision purely black.
When had he fully lost his vision? When had he gotten off the floor? He couldn’t feel the wood under his hands anymore, just empty space. He couldn’t even feel his hands.
Oh, gods, he couldn’t feel anything.
Where was he? Bishop frantically felt around for something, anything to hold onto as it all faded out of existence. Was he floating? Where was he going? Why couldn’t he find his tether, his sister?
He reached out in the unending black that surrounded him, throat choked by cries as he desperately searched for anything to keep him from floating endlessly in this terrifying emptiness.
His fingers brushed against something, soft and barely there. But it was enough to tether him, just barely, like a spider’s thread holding onto a balloon.
It tugged him back to the ground.
And he woke up with a start, Brook biting at his fingers and chirping like mad. His fingers were stiff, uncooperative as he clenched them briefly. They moved, at least. His lungs gulped down oxygen in a useless panic, but they worked.
He weakly pushed himself up from his desk, brushing against scattered papers and trinkets. Ah, he must have fallen asleep. How careless of him, he shouldn’t have let his exhaustion grow to such a point. A hand rose to his face to scrub harshly at his eyes, pressing hard into them until static filled his vision. Brook’s little fleeting kaleidoscope of colors shined in front of him, patient while he regained his bearings.
“I… fell asleep.” He offered her.
“𝓦𝑒𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝑜𝓾 𝓭𝓻𝑒𝓪𝓶𝒾𝓃𝓰?” She asked, her voice quiet and rippling.
Bishop sighed, reaching forward and running a finger over her back lightly. “I was.”
“𝓦𝒽𝒶𝓽 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓾 𝒹𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓂𝓲𝓃𝓰 𝓪𝒷𝓸𝓾𝓉?” She asked, feathers ruffling under his touch.
Bishop paused for a moment, his movements and his thoughts stalled.
So by the time Shamura hits "Middle Aged Adult God" stage there's only a handful of Gods left on the island (the mainland + beyond is a different story), and most of whom are part of the Old Faith (before dying for unknown reasons. Perhaps from a Successor killing them [and they left the island], perhaps Shamura realizing they were too dangerous to contuing to wield their Crown[s]).
Shamura was chosen by the Purple Crown as an adult upon its previous host's death, because of their prowess as a soldier and ambition of wanting more power and control in their life.
Whenever something major happens on the island, Shamura and Allocer usually appear to suss things out. See what's going on that caused a hubbub.
One day they hear of many villages and towns along the coast being suddenly wiped out by an unknown sickness, perhaps brought in by sailors who would make stops at the different towns. In one town they find only a single survivor: a teenage squid wearing the Blue Crown. They take the traumatized teenager in because like hell they're gonna let a hormonal, traumatized teenager with God powers (and sickness powers) wander around the island. The Blue Crown chose him because while he was sickly growing up, he managed to survive this illness that claimed the life of so many others.
A few years pass, and they suddenly recieve a panicked message relaying to them that a growing city was under attack by a foreign army. An army that wanted to conquer the island. They and Kallamar rush to the city to try and chase out the army, which lead to a city of ruin and death. Sitting amongst the rubble was a kitten who was in complete shock, surrounded by his dead family. He was only ten years old yet he witnessed the murders of his family. He only survived because he played dead (his assailants had repeatedly stabbed him but miraculously missed vital organs), which is why the Red Crown chose him.
A few years later, and a great drought hits the land, causing famine. Eventually whispers of a seven year old frog with a yellow crown had been seen wandering between towns and villages, using her powers to take what little food people had. The Yellow Crown chose Heket because she killed and ate her parents to survive the famine. (Her parents did NOT consent to be murdered and eaten lol.)
Decades afte that Shamura heads rumors about a baby causing chaos via its Crown. They scoff and think "a Crown chosing an infant? What non- oh my God that is a baby with a Green Crown." No one knows why the Green Crown would chose a chaser worm as a host.
