verweiledoch | IC Inbox [Ryslig, Under Construction]

IC Inbox [Ryslig, Under Construction]

Hallo, you have reached Dr. Faust. If this is an emergency, go to the nearest clinic, but if it is not and I can still help you, please leave a message.

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Is it full of trash? My field is full of trash

It's very lonely

I may need to turn around. You don't mean an actual field, do you? You mean something more like a dump?

[There's a very long pause as he goes out to investigate.]

No, it's definitely not a dump

It's just a field with lots of trash in it

[Mostly very old carnie trash.]

It's alright. I know where you are, now. Give me just another ten minutes.

[And that's exactly as long as it takes him to finally show up. He peers around, looking for anyone resembling Rick and hoping that he's not stroking out or something.]

[Someone who looks exactly like Rick sees him approaching and excitedly waves him over. He's currently standing in front what does appear to be a strange, asymmetrical shack made of boxes and trash. It used to have a generator, a freestanding hammock structure, a TV, and a number of space heaters---but they've all been dismantled and arranged into lopsided piles.]

[Faust approaches apprehensively. Because while nothing about this is awesome, or reassuring... it's also not exactly completely out of the realm of possible for Rick.

Faust kneels, unpacking the medical kit he travels with.]

Would you mind if I just checked you over for a concussion, Rick? It will not take long.

I don't have a concussion!

[He averts his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out if he should know what a concussion is, but he keeps smiling and he doesn't pull away.]

But... but I guess you can check.

Mmhmm. Yes, I guess I can.

[Faust's tone is absentminded as he goes into his automatic checkup-mode, kneeling with his penlight to check Rick's pupils. Admittedly it's a little weird, considering he's a demon, and the skin on Faust's forearm's prickles unpleasantly at the proximity.]

Do you remember your name? What is the date, and what is your profession? If they seem like silly questions, just humor me and answer them.

[As it happens, Faust might not mind the proximity so much this time. It's almost as though there's nothing really demonic about him at all. His pupils seem fine and he doesn't resist or question the examination, but his skin might feel stiff and unyielding.]

No, I can answer them! I have all the answers. My name is Rick. It's winter. And... [He trails off for a moment, frowning thoughtfully.] I build things! I break them and then I make them different! That's my profession!

[That, alone, is actually some cause for alarm, if only because it's so unusual. Being close to Rick is one of those things that Faust bears because it's necessary to spend time with him, but certainly doesn't seek out because it feels so dang good. In fact, the only reason it probably doesn't bother him more is because he's usually so heavily medicated.

He frowns at the lack of give that Rick's skin seems to have.]

All of that's technically true, but... how does your face feel, Rick? Any different than usual?

[He prods at one of Rick's slightly sunken cheeks.]

[Yeah, there's no give there either. He takes half a step back, giving Faust a cheerfully bemused smile.]

No... I can feel my face. My face is normal!

[He pauses for a moment, then reaches out to prod Faust in the shoulder.]

Well... good, then!

[Faust tries really hard to sound optimistic about that, even though his fingertips are telling him something extremely different. The demon's face is not only not burning under Faust's nephilim touch, it's stiff, almost waxy, and it's weird.

I'm going to listen to your heart. Can you hold very still and not breathe for a moment?

[He's going to just... try to ignore that shoulder-prodding as he takes out his stethoscope.]

You want me to stop breathing?

[He frowns, recoiling a little and casting a quizzical glance at the stethoscope.]

Are... are you sure?

Ah... well, yes, just for a moment. So that I can better hear your heart. Do you believe that you can do that for me, Rick?

...Yes?

[He answers tentatively, staring at the stethoscope as if he were sizing it up.

Then he draws himself up, taking a deep breath to steel himself.

And then he stops breathing.]

[Faust is very diligent about his present task... until Rick just straight up stops breathing. He withdraws, looking both puzzled and concerned.]

Ehe... you know that you should continue to breathe as is comfortable.

[Don't hurt yourself, man.]

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IC Inbox [Ryslig, Under Construction]

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