SEEMS EVERYONE'S GONNA BE FINE | open ; sick-ish

[arrow]

"blood is like wine, unconscious all the time" ✭  ── Being a ghost was the worst.

It was cool when you weren't the ghost, that was for sure. Newkit thought she was pretty cool, and when she was much younger, Beck was the coolest kid she'd ever seen, due in part that she'd never even seen a ghost or anything similar until then. The black sludge was a little gross, but it's not like anyone denied that. There was always this sense of despair that hung over the fascinating undead exterior, and now she finally got it. While Beck had to deal with the glaring issue of having been, y'know, murdered, Arrow, on occasion, endured the painful replay of her violently ill ending.

And that didn't even begin to cover all the reasons being dead sucked major ass. This was her home, the only home she'd ever known, but it never felt the same, not like this. Everyone else was gone, save for Aurum and Moth, familiar faces to keep her feeling somewhat grounded here, but it wasn't the same. Aurum had become a dear friend since she'd returned, and she respected Moth greatly, but it didn't overturn or outweigh the weight on her shoulders. Her friends were dead, there was nothing left to remember them by and she'd been just fine resting six feet under before everyone was gone.

The initial taste of blood brought about a great deal of distress, thin tail bristled up as Arrow sat somewhat hunched over, coughing and spitting the metallic shit out like her insides had just decided to liquify. Metaphorical insides, of course. Naturally, she looked wrecked, like she was actually sick, but it was, to put it simply, fake. It wouldn't have any warmth to it, or leave a trace if anyone was brave or gross enough to touch it. it looked real enough, but it was ghost blood. It wasn't even real. Arrow groaned, a deep and agonized instinctual noise, because the pain was as real as it got.

She wished Tanglewood had a priest.

[ATBASH CIPHER.]

ATBASH CIPHER

you laugh and smile at me, but you don't see a thing !

Unlike her brothers, Atbash had yet to experience death. While she's definitely had some near-death experiences, she's never actually died - but despite that, she could relate to Arrow in a way. Being a dream demon meant she didn't really have a physical form and so, she had to possess creatures on Earth in order to, well. Be here. It wasn't very often that Atbash switched bodies though and she didn't have the ability to become a ghost at will, so that was where her similarities with Arrow ended. She hardly ever got sick, and truthfully had yet to really experience sickness, but there was no way of denying the signs of someone being ill. Atbash was, obviously, not a medic or anything of the sort, but her empathic side made her more aware of her surroundings.

Not that Arrow's coughing was easy to miss, of course. Hearing the sputtering sounds, Atbash's ears pricked and she searched around for the source, worried that it might be contagious. Some sort of illness spreading through camp wouldn't be good, especially with Tanglewood still recovering from the Coalition. "Arrow?" The savannah called out to her clanmate, worry in her voice as she edged closer to Arrow. She was wary, for good reason, and when she spotted the blood, she recoiled slightly. "O-oh geez, um... Do you need Sophiea? C-cause I can get her." Would a medic even be able to help a spirit like that? Honestly, Atbash wasn't entirely sure how to react to this situation. She didn't even think it was possible for spirits to contact sickness.

bio | female | member of tanglewood

© madi

[arrow]

"but you promised me this is love" ✭  ── "What? No, no that's not necessary." Somewhat shaken up by Atbash's appearance, Arrow shook her head perhaps a little too aggressively. Not that her reaction had anything to do with Sophiea, even if the very blunt Brit's commentary most likely wouldn't have been...kind, or so she assumed. No, she just didn't want the woman to waste her time and energy for a situation that wouldn't be able to be fixed by her particular set of skills. She clenched her jaw tightly when she thought she was going to start coughing up more, well, Atbash surely got the idea. What was ghost blood anyway?

The ghost covered up the bloodier half of her face with one of her front paws, noticeably lacking eye contact. The situation was more or less embarrassing when other people had to be subjected to it, especially considering she couldn't just die this time and make her escape. "It's nothing, I swear. Just...complicated. It goes away." The following attempt to scrub the shit off her face failed, and her eye twitched. Blood was fucking disgusting. "It's like, death instant replay. I didn't get anything glorious or nothin'." Arrow shuddered, but if it was from recalling the event or from the current state she was in was unknown. 

[trojan g.]

[align=left]there's a chip on my shoulder *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Moth remembered when Beck had gone through things similar, remembered when he replayed the memory of his death over and over again. It usually was kept in his head, flashbacks of the ordeal, but at times things trickled out into the outside world, and that was when things got really bad. Lashing out wasn't out of the question when times got tough, physically and mentally, and it usually lasted for a while, at times lasting for days where he would go into hiding in his boat house and not allow anyone to see him. She could only hope now that wherever he was he was doing better than he had been while he had been in Tanglewood, hoped that he and Selby were alright.

The sound of coughing is what brought the reaper over to the scene. If she had known that it was something that Arrow was embarrassed about, she would have left, would have gathered those there to leave Arrow to herself so that she could be as comfortable as possible. "Is there any way to make you more comfortable Arrow? I know going through it is hard." Moth had died a death that wasn't the prettiest, but she hadn't come back as a ghost, didn't know what it was like exactly, but she could only imagine, spending her time as a soul in the body of another had been an awful experience for her, especially with the fighting of the others that had been in the same body. "I know it might not be much that we can do, but I'd like to help in whatever way possible." She knew medicine couldn't solve this, but she could only wish that it was something as simple as that.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  and it's big as a boulder

[rhosmari]

Never once had she thought that Arrow would get sick. To her she continously forgot that the woman was dead. She just acted more alive than most of the animals here. Perhaps she should have thought of the possibility of sickness considering she thought she forgot about the dead thing. So when she wandered onto the scene and saw the blood on the ground her eyes widened. Worry pricked up along her spine and she didn't know what to do. Her claws pressed against the ground and she felt her maw part as if she was about to say something but she was confused. What did she say? She never felt this worried before and her tail wavered back and forth. "Arrow...?" She muttered softly as she made her way closer to the scene.

Moth was already on the scene which was good and her eyes flicked to the woman with a question before she looked back to the ghostly figure. "Does she need something from this one? She can try to help as much as possible but she doesn't know how..." There was nervous energy buzzing through her in watching the woman suffer, a pain that she couldn't begin to understand as she had to sit there and watch without any notion of how to help.

[wormwood.]

[arrow]

"but you promised me this is love" ✭  ── After all the inquiry about if anything at all would help, Arrow actually began to think about it. She wasn't actually sure, she'd never looked into it. She never had a reason to, after all, she was a ghost. Ghosts didn't make good patients for medical practices. The whole being able to pass through them thing made treating any of the strange and potentially otherworldly conditions rather difficult.

Her face contorted into a grimace of disgust and pain, leaning over and sputtering up a decent amount of blood in between her paws, doing her best not to let it get anywhere close to anyone nearby. She wheezed pitifully, shaking her head, hung low. It took her a minute, shoulders shaking, to regain the very thin sense of stability she was stubbornly hanging on to. Blood and bile be damned, it would take more than that before she gave in to the urge to lay down like roadkill. She yanked her head up suddenly, with a sharp exhale. "I'm a big girl, I can deal. Y'know, this is some bullshit. Survived gators, survived the Pitt, but I gotta get sniped by some fuckin' terminal illness, huh? That's what I gotta deal with for eternity?" As if to prove her point, Arrow violently heaved another wave of scarlet, splattering over a small patch of ground. Ew.

She shivered as if she was freezing to death, bloodstained teeth poking through a nervous smile. "I mean...sorry, class. Did not want to share. I wish y'all could help, I could use some of those dope ass medic skills, Moth, I really could." She didn't reveal her inner thoughts, but somewhere in her psyche was the cynical and frankly brutal inner voice that chanted that nothing could have saved her the first time, and the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. She hoped no one noticed the briefness of the reaction. "I'm good, Elsie, although...I could probably use some company tonight, at home, when I'm not...doin' all this. Death memories aren't all that great for mental states." She tapped her head gently, right on the noggin. She couldn't do much, but she'd rather not be alone.

Aurum's voice made her large ears perk up, mostly at the mention of alcohol. "I wish. Do you know how much I want a fuckin' drink?" Her smile increased a little bit, looking more like an expression she would carry rather than the one of an agonized sickly animal. "I feel worse. I'd like to speak to whoever is responsible for shaking souls awake, ask them why the fuck. If you figure any sort of ritual to bippity boppity me to the man upstairs so I can get a pair of wings and stop hacking up my insides, you run on in and tell me, boss." The tone was light, and the snarky snicker that followed indicated she was joking, as per usual. Although, somewhere in her green eyes was a unique spark of desperation.