The Vagrant Cenobite, once a cavern worker, now a wandering shadowdropper. She travels with her matesprit, but occasionally returns to her old cavern to check in on her moirail.....
...The Exterminator! He guards the caverns where his moirail once ran. Other times, however, he is hired to eliminate problematic clowns. He has taken out entire carnivals, but his services aren’t free.
You wake with a violent start, gasping for air as if your lungs had gone without it for decades. Each breath was labored and painful. Every muscle and joint in your body seemed to be screaming in pain. Your chest, your head, your back especially. Your torso felt like dead painful weight as you lurched forward. You tried to double over but your arms wouldn’t move. The lack of feeling combined with the burning pain everywhere else only caused you to panic further. You couldn't seem to breathe right. Your lungs couldn’t get enough oxygen in them. You were so dazed by the amount of work it took to simply breathe that you didn’t even process where you were. Not until someone started speaking. Your eyes finally focus through the blinding pristine light.
This wasn’t your hive. A gentle hand rests on your thigh. A voice tells you to calm down. How could you calm down? Your eyes trail up the arm to rest on an unfamiliar jadeblood’s face. She smiles. It’s a soft expression, somewhat comforting. She tells you to breathe with her, and models it for you. You feel shaky as you mimic her. But it helps. Still, the fog in your head doesn’t quite clear.
Her hand moves to your chest, gently pushing you back to laying down. You want to reach up and swat her away. But nothing happens. It's as if there’s nothing there. No hand to push her away. You start to look towards your arm, but she’s quick to cup your face and make you look at her. She shakes her head softly, and tells you to rest. Before you can open your mouth to argue with her, another troll appears. They look like a nurse of some sort, complete with a surgical mask. That does little to ease your worries.
It won’t matter for long, of course. The nurse rests their hand on your forehead and tells you to sleep. The world goes dark.
And that was the longest you would be awake for a while.
It seemed like all you did was sleep. You’d wake up several times, each one with the same level of agony. Be awake just long enough to vocalize your pain. Sometimes you saw new faces- other jadebloods, some highbloods, but nobody you knew. Each time you’d wake up, they would call for the nurse. And you’d be put to sleep again before you could argue. At first, you appreciated it. Being asleep was better than being awake. Your dreams were nostalgic and sweet, so sickeningly realistic that you almost thought they were reality. You’d dream of dinners with Apaati, eating all your favorite foods. Spending the day at your kismesis’ overpriced hive, pestering him as he worked. Being alone in your own hive. Watching movies with Sionah. But it became apparent that these were dreams. Things were just slightly off, as if you couldn’t quite remember it properly until you saw it.
The final time you wake, nothing is burning. You jolt upright. The absence of pain is almost worse than the pain itself. It’s jarring, so much so that you don’t hear the jadeblood speaking to you again. You blink as you glance around the room. It's less bright this time, but you’re finally able to confirm this as a medical setting. Your head jerks around as you hear your name again, just in time to see the nurse’s hand reaching for you again.
You grab their arm, holding it hostage in the space above your face. You’re just as shocked as they are, but the confusion melts in an instant, replaced by anger. You tighten your grip on their arm to watch their face twist in pain. They claw at your hand helplessly.
“Where the fuck am I?” The words come out as a growl. They start to buckle under your grip. You ignore your name being said. There is only anger, and olive blood seeping beneath your fingernails.
You only let go when someone grabs your face and forces you to break eye contact.
“That is enough.” Milky jade eyes bore into your own. You feel like a scolded wriggler, arm returning to your side. The jadeblood finally smiles and releases your face.
“I know you’re upset and confused, Jawska. I would be too.” There’s something about her tone that does make you feel better. She cups your cheek gently with a look of understanding, “You’ll be okay. I assure you of that.”
Finally, she lets you go and steps back. You’re able to take in the whole room better now. God, you’ve created quite the scene, haven’t you? There’s three jadebloods now, each looking at you with different expressions.
“My name is Sinopa. My moirail Storme brought you to Dr. Needle, who patched you up.” The milky-eyed jade, Sinopa, directs your attention to each troll as she calls their name.
You open your mouth to speak, but find yourself quiet. There’s too many questions. For a moment, it felt like you might cry. There was a comfort in their faces but they weren’t the faces you wanted to see. Sinopa must’ve noticed, because she shook her head.
“We’ll be having none of that, boy. Not when you’ve made it so far. You didn’t even notice your arms were working.”
Confused silence follows. You raise a hand into view. It isn’t your hand, but it’s moving, which is an improvement. Flecks of olive blood have already dried on the white metal fingertips. There’s no grey skin stained with ink, only clean white metal. You wiggle your fingers. The movement is choppy and delayed, but its movement. Not pain. Your head starts to feel dizzy and foggy once again.
“How are you feeling?” The man- Storme, you think it was- finally spoke up. You responded with a tired groan. That got a chuckle out of him. Sinopa stepped out of the way, allowing her moirail to come forward and take your hand. It felt strange. You couldn’t feel his grip, but you knew it was strong. And somehow still felt comforted.
“Does anything hurt? Are you hungry? What can we get for ya?” Storme lowered your hand into your lap but kept your fingers tangled in his own.
You look down at your hands. A moment of silence passes as you now realize you’re missing more than just your hands. A rather sick feeling starts to settle in your stomach. To everyone else in the room, it feels like eternity before you speak again.
“Uh…my kismesis. I..uh, I want my kismesis…” You meet Storme’s eyes for a split second, but look away quickly, “...Please.”
