#ice day

[angesaurus]

SNOW DAY TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!

[selfhelpradio]

yoko has found walking in the cold weather to be not the slightest bit unpleasant

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Ice Day!!

For @brutal-nemesis! 

[I can’t remember if this one came to me in a dream or if i was just in bed lol] 

CW: magical exhaustion, forced to work, implied human trafficking, slavery, restraints, IV (but no drugging),  

Whumpee focused harder on standing. They had this gut feeling – and it was going to be right this time. They just knew it. The Operators were going to bring in a replacement for them. Whumpee hands were trembling, weak from hours of using their powers to cool the engine in front of them. The design had won awards for its ingenious use of a cooling system, the cost of ice-powered whumpees cheaper and more environmentally friendly.

They shifted their weight and held firm. They were going to get a replacement this time. Didn’t matter that it had never happened before, didn’t matter that they had never been brought in as a replacement for another Whumpee. No, this was the time. This was going to be the first time that they were released from their duty before they collapsed.

They just knew it.

 Hours later, after Whumpee’s knees had buckled leaving them a mess on the steel floor, the door creaked open. They raised their head blearily and hopefully. One figure. An Overseer. No replacement.

Whumpee drew in a shaky breath and leaned their forehead against the equipment. The Overseer tsked at them grabbed their shoulder to pull them back up to their feet. Their legs were burning and swollen, arms numb. The Overseer grabbed Whumpee’s hands and forced them flat against the warm metal of the engine.

“Please, please –“ Whumpee started, heat already seeping into their hands. The Overseer didn’t respond. They clipped Whumpee’s wrists in, making it impossible to pull them away. The Overseers never reacted when the Whumpees cried. Maybe they couldn’t understand them.

Maybe they just didn’t care.

Whumpee’s head was tilted to the side and they let the IV be inserted without resistance. Not a drug, simply saline for hydration. Kept them working a bit longer. They bit their lip, tears dripping out of their eyes. They should have known, they shouldn’t have gotten their hopes up, but they were just so sure this was the time.

  Nearly ten hours later, Medic made his rounds. He pushed the door open, getting no response from inside.

Whumpee had collapsed again, hands bent at a terrible angle to accommodate the restraints. Medic sighed and went to check them. Barbarians. This whole plant was barbaric; even if it was considered efficient.

Whumpee was drenched in sweat – already a red flag for their power type. They were still conscious, albeit confused and out of it. They pressed their face into Medic’s hand as he tried to feel their forehead. They were burning up with fever, and if they were trying to cool their skin on his it was worse than he thought.

“Alright, alright, you’re done here,” he muttered to himself, unclipping their hands. The skin on their palms was burned and red and stuck slightly to the hot metal. They whimpered slightly when he pulled their hands away, but didn’t fight him. They couldn’t possibly have with how weak they’d become.

Medic brushed damp hair from their eyes and easily lifted them onto the stretcher. He’d sign them out and take them back to the bay so that one of the others could grab another to fill their spot. The only word he could think to describe the process was barbaric. Sickening. Inhumane – or it would be if they were still considered ‘human.’

He had to pause to put on his jacket as they got farther down the hall. At least the assholes in charge of this place let them keep the Whumpee bay at least 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the plant. Even that was a tremendous help in recovery.

He laid the frail Whumpee out on one of the cots and applied cool clothes to their forehead, chest, and arms.  Whumpee whined a shuttered out a breath, but they didn’t open their eyes. Medic sighed again and kept trying to cool them down. Part of him wanted to quit so badly, but he couldn’t leave them. No-one else would care for them, and he couldn’t live with that guilt.

Whumpee was cooling down, slightly, and becoming semiconscious. They whimpered and writhed in the bed.

“Hey, hey hey hey, you’re okay,” Medic said, dabbing a cool cloth on their brow. Whumpee’s eyes slowly focused on him.

“Ice?” They asked, voice broken and scratchy. He shook his head.

“No. No more ice,” he said soothing before adding another comment under his breath – “at least for a while.”

Whumpee shook their head weakly, brow furrowed.

“I-Ice?” they repeated. He paused, trying to figure out what they meant.

When he did, it broke his heart. Ice baths were permitted sometimes, for serious cases. As bad as his patient was, it wasn’t enough for that. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Cheap, spiteful, hateful, stupid bastards. What, they couldn’t afford ice? There must have been some other, unknown reason for the needless cruelty.

“One sec, okay?” He said before he stood to grab a couple of the reusable ice packs. It was the most he could offer without needing permission. He slipped one under the back of the neck, a few more along their sides.

Whumpee sighed contentedly and closed their eyes again to rest. Medic would stay with them as long as he could – until their temperature came down to a safe level, but he had more rounds to do.

There were others that needed help, too.

~

tagging @thehopelessopus for reasons lol 

[as-a-matter-of-whump]

Ice Day (Tobias)

@brutal-nemesis here we go! :)

CW: captivity whump, hypothermia, forced nudity (non-sexual), nightmares, swearing

masterlist The day after the branding Tobias feels nothing but miserable. He has been taken back into the basement and has curled up on the thin mattress his captor had given him, but the pain in his lower back just won’t stop. It feels like it got infected, but he can’t be sure because he can’t see the spot where the branding iron has burned the sensible skin and he’s too scared to touch it - he hasn’t been able to wash his hands even once since he got captured, after all. What bothers him even more is the constant heat that’s gotten hold of his whole body; touching his forehead, he feels an unsettling mixture of cold sweat and too warm skin. It would be no wonder if he had caught a fever down here, especially after being drenched in icy water a few days ago. His whole body feels like it is on fire and makes him crawl off the mattress so he can rest his head on the cold stone floor. Right now, he doesn’t really care about the consequences, he just wants the unbearable heat inside his body to go away.

He’s still lying there when the door suddenly opens and slow steps approach him.

‘How are you doing, boy?’ his captors asks, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

‘’m fine,’ he mumbles and turns away weakly; he certainly won’t let him see how awful he really feels.

‘No, I think you are not,’ the man smirks, his hand still resting on Tobias’ forehead, ‘You’re running a temperature.’

‘I’m fine,’ he repeats through clenched teeth.

‘You are? Alright, I have to leave for a while, but I guess I don’t have to worry since you’re fine…’

Tobias watches him leave and only curls up on the ground again when the door clicks shut. The cold seems to help at least a tiny bit and so it doesn’t take long until he finally falls asleep.

Nightmares keep haunting him; he is running through a darkened building he’s never seen before, down never ending corridors with locked doors on both sides. He can’t stop running, because if he does, he will be- what? He doesn’t even know what he’s running away from, but he knows that he mustn’t stop. Up and down the stairs, through old-fashioned double doors that lead him through a huge entrance hall, the black and white marble floor is covered in dirt as if the building has been abandoned for years now, but there are voices, there are footsteps behind him, he has to run, he has to get away and he is breathing heavily, his sweat soaked shirt is clinging to his chest, but no matter how fast he is, he’s always being followed, but still he keeps on running, turning around the corner, towards another door, he grabs the handle - but the door is locked. Shivering with fear he turns around as a sudden cold gets hold of his body and he starts to scream.

Tobias awakes with a start, but the cold remains. The light around him is too bright, it is blinding him for a few seconds until he is able to perceive his surroundings. Instead of lying on the floor in the basement, he is sitting in a bathtub half-full with cold water. Panic rises as he realises that he’s not only naked but also handcuffed to the fittings. 

What is this all about?

‘Glad you’re awake, son,’ a harsh voice behind him declares, ‘You’ve been delirious for quite a while, I already thought you wouldn’t make it.’

‘Don’t call me… son, I’m not your son, asshole.’

Without a warning he pours a bucket full of ice cubes into the tub, making Tobias shiver in the cold.

‘We have to get your temperature down - it would’ve been way easier if you just told me right away what’s wrong with you, but maybe this’ll teach you to be honest with me,’ he explains without reacting to the insult.

He fetches another bucket and pours even more ice into the tub; Tobias’s body is already covered in it and he can’t stop shaking.

‘Stop it!’ he hisses with chattering teeth, violently tearing at his restraints.

‘Didn’t you say you were fine?’

‘Well, I’m not fine anymore. Hardly surprising, huh?’

‘You should’ve told me sooner that your condition got worse, don’t you think?’

‘You would’ve used that against me anyway if I did.’

‘Oh? What do you think I would’ve done - put you in a tub with ice water?’

He laughs and walks out of the room, leaving Tobias behind without listening to the insults the young man is hurling at him.

As time passes, Tobias notices that his hands have turned an unhealthy shade of blue and he can barely feel the rest of his body anymore; even the throbbing pain caused by the branding has vanished completely. Turning his head to the left, he can see a pile of towels; so at least this whole set-up isn’t meant to kill him, how comforting… still it doesn’t change the fact that his extremities feel numb and it’s getting hard to breathe, his lungs hurting every time he inhales. Screaming for help has never been an option for him since he had been kidnapped, but right now he low-key wants his captor to return and get him out of the water. It doesn’t mean he’s given up, he just wants to stay alive with his body damaged as little as possible. He wouldn’t beg. He wouldn’t cry. He would just be patient.

When the bathroom door opens again, his skin has already turned red and he is dazed with fatigue, all the warmth drained from his body. He keeps telling himself that he isn’t allowed to fall asleep - he might not wake up again. 

The man only watches him from the other side of the room, arms crossed in front of his chest.

‘Anything you want to tell me? Are you still fine?’

‘Well, I guess the fever’s gone by now,’ Tobias replies through clenched teeth.

The other man snorts, but he starts undoing the handcuffs.

‘Okay boy, you win. This time.’

***

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @redstainedsocks

[tears-and-lilies]

Chapter 33 – The advisor

For @brutal-nemesis‘s Ice day! It’s comfort :)

Tag: @whumpfigure @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @green-eyed-whumpster @liliability @unicornscotty @sideblogformindtrash

CW: hypothermia, slipping into unconsciousness, plans for murder?

***

A servant opened the door to the cellar. Feyros entered first, followed by his assistant. He was right to put on a thick coat. His heart sunk when he noticed how cold it was here, sore so when you just came from the warm late-spring temperature that hung around in the palace. His assistant warmed his hands before readying his notebook.

‘We won’t be here for long’, Feyros assured him, smiling nervously. He looked at the rows of crates that stored the snow. ‘We only need to check the crates and see how much reserve there is. Emperor Vasri assured me he kept good track of the amount of snow, so I’m simply checking if his data are correct, which I don’t doubt they are.’

He walked down a row of crates, trying to count how many one row contained. Admittedly he lost track quickly. He trusted Vasri enough so this task was ultimately unnecessary. But his assistant didn’t need to know that. He had to look unsuspicious. Breaking into the cellar and hysterically looking for the dancer he knew they had locked up in here would only raise too many questions. It disturbed him. He couldn’t stand the slowness, every minute endangered the boy’s life even more. But he couldn’t show them what he thought of it. It would look like defiance, or treachery, he’d smear his uncle’s name. Even in his old days, his uncle had worked so hard to keep his reputation clear. And Feyros had ruined it too many times.

He tried to keep his composure as he turned to the crates by the cellar walls. His heart stopped for a moment as he noticed the figure curled up in the corner. Immediately he rushed towards the dancer and dropped to his knees. He’s barely breathing. He took the boy’s hand in his own. It felt so cold. He noticed the open wound, as if he had cut his hand on something.

His assistant walked up beside him. ‘Sir?’ He sounded confused.

‘Go get help! Call servants, we have to get him out of here!’ He leant forward to cup the dancer’s face. He didn’t seem to get a reaction. The boy kept staring in the distance with dilated pupils. His mouth hung slightly open, and a small stream of drool was leaking from the corner of his mouth. Feyros brought his own face closer to the boy’s.

‘Hello? Can you hear me?’

The young dancer slowly blinked. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Feyros threw his arms around him and struggled to pick him up. Then he noticed his assistant was still standing there.

‘What are you doing?! Get help, get a doctor!’, he exclaimed. He watched the assistant hasten out of the cellar while he picked up the boy, one arm under his knees and the other under his armpits. The cold skin against his body made him shiver, underneath all the layers of clothing. The guy’s hardly wearing anything…

***

The bed was soft, with cosy and warm blankets. Glorien smiled. He missed this bed. It was much bigger and way more comfortable than the small cheap bed he got in the dancer’s dorm room. It had been so long. Oh how much I missed home…

His eyes snapped open. He wasn’t home. The room was too wide and decorated with tapestries he had never seen before. Going by the excessive decoration he guessed this was one of the palace’s guest rooms. The bed he lay in had a faint smell of… vanilla? He frowned. He had never smelled that before in the palace.

‘Hello?’ A man approached the bedside. A noble, of course. Though this man looked young, probably in his late twenties. He had a short beard and dull brown eyes. His hair was brown and wavy, his skin darker than Glorien’s. He remembered this man, the nephew of Tymos.

‘Are you rested? There’s some warm milk if you want to drink. It has a good chunk of honey in it. The doctor said it would help you.’

Glorien tried to sit up. He groaned from the effort. He pulled the blankets off of him to get out of the bed.

‘No, what are you doing?’, the man asked.

‘I have dance practice in the evening. If I don’t go they’ll be mad. I’ve angered them enough already.’

The nobleman gently pushed him back into the bed. ‘I told them what happened and they agreed to let you stay in my room until you’re fully recovered.’

Glorien’s eyes widened in surprise as he lay his head back onto the pillows. ‘Your room?’

‘Please take as much time as you need. And if you need the night as well, I’ll sleep on the couch. It wouldn’t bother me!’

He’s… awfully friendly. He asked: ‘What exactly happened?’ He remembered Triban throwing him into the ice cold cellar, and him desperately searching for a spot where it was less cold, and shivering so much he couldn’t walk around anymore to get warm, but after that?

The man looked away. ‘I wanted to check the snow supply for the summer, since the Emperor told me the palace had extra snow stored, and I thought we could use the excess snow for any medical urgencies in the city during summer. When I walked into the cellar, I found you.’ He swallowed hard. ‘You were barely conscious.’

Glorien couldn’t help grinning at that. This man was funny. ‘Wow’, he said, trying to keep his voice flat. ‘Thank you so much, kind sir. That must have been so scary for you. You did such a good deed.’

The young noble rose his shoulders and gave a small nod, looking at the ground. Next, he awkwardly walked towards the door. ‘I- I should tell the doctor you’re awake. And I have some work to do as well.’

‘Wait!’

The man stopped in his tracks and turned around. ‘Yes?’

‘Is your uncle here? There’s… something I want to tell him. Something very confidential. It’s about my father.’

The man’s eyes now stood sad. ‘Oh…’, he said. ‘My uncle passed away last year. I’m sorry. You can tell it to me if you think so necessary. Although I didn’t know your father very well, so depending on what you wanted to say…’

‘Oh.’ Glorien took a moment to process that. He was slightly relieved, but more so annoyed. What was he going to do now? Go back to a useless life of nothing? But…

‘Who’s Keeper of the City then?’, he asked.

The young man straightened his back. ‘His position went to me. I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself earlier. I’m Feyros.’ He smiled shyly.

Glorien bit his lip. Of course. What now? He had decided he was going to kill the Keeper of the City. If he didn’t, he would never be able to attack Vasri. But that doesn’t mean I can’t kill this man.

He smiled back and nodded. This was going to be interesting.

[mooseheadfeed]

When you’re trying to prove you won’t slip on ice..

[luckgods]

get it? because it’s-- because it’s made of ice, see, so it’s funny--

pixel art for @brutal-nemesis‘s Ice Day 2021! (click for quality)

[thisbibliomaniac]

So while most of Ohio is planning on handling the extreme weather by actually wearing coats, I'm blessed that my coworker who most has the ear of the office manager is from North Carolina.

Snow day tomorrow!