News:

- Chubby Dwarves are low fat.
- Pippen accused of getting drunk and feeling Merry
- Mexican Hobbit corrupted by One Ring. Known as Smiegel

Main Menu

Kit's Life

Started by Dray, March 19, 2006, 12:33:09 AM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 2 Guests are viewing this topic.

Dray

Ashe knew that Kit was in a delicate state. Her mind was as fragile as a web. He had to convince her to live. She was waiting to see her parents and he knew that they were dead. Ashe understood that her soul was preparing her mind to pass into the next world. Her parents were the comforting vessel for that passing. He realized that he was now in a memory of hers.

He needed to make a gentle contact so that she wouldn't be frightened of him. So before he entered the house he said "Kit, It's not your Dad. It's Ashe. You remember me don't you? You helped me save Kyle and the others from their disease." He was hoping that asking her to remember the good that she had done before would be cause for her to want to live to do more.


Jarmok and Laren waited anxiously for anything to happen, not sure what exactly Ashe was doing. Kit?s condition remained dismal, her breathing was still quiet and shallow, her body far too cold. Ashe continued to stand above her, holding her face between his palms.

"I do not know an Ashe." Kit said, as if in conversation, startling the both of them.

"I do not know an Ashe," the small voice said. Ashe had to hold back a snicker of amusement. He wasn't sure how young she was, but she sure sounded adorable.

Although she sounded stand-offish, he heard her small footsteps approach the other side of the entry. 'Always a good sign', he thought.

Ashe knelt down so that he could see eye to eye with her when she opened the door. But as the door opened he was greeted by a beautiful child, not quite yet an adolescent, yet still taller than he expected. Instead of getting up to one knee, he merely talked up to her. "Well Kit, my name is Ashe. May I talk to you while you wait?" Ashe was being meticulous in his words and phrases. It was as if he was approaching a skiddish horse. If he said the wrong thing and scared her away he would then have to chase after her. That was time that she didn't have.

"Sure we can, but I don't understand Ashe, we have never met." She said, suddenly she had a thought and a big smile came quick to her.

"Did my parents hire you on as a new tutor for when we reach our new home?" Kit's eyes sparkled and she slightly bounced up and down with the question.

There was an innocence reflected in those eyes here that made Ashe's heart weep for the girl on the table. Here she was ignorant of all the pain of the past few years. Here, she was a bright and young girl who was just about to flower into womanhood, her whole future ahead of her.

'If only that were the reality of the situation,' Ashe solemnly thought.

Ashe thought that he would tell her the truth of his arrival but use it metaphorically. "What a great guess! You're a smart girl. I can see my work will cut out for me trying to teach you new things. Right now, your parents have asked me to look after you. They want me to make sure that you're safe."

Ashe sensed he needed to somehow anchor her spirit here in her mind before she realized what was really happening.

"Do you have anything that makes you feel safe? Something that you treasure? I have this."

Ashe pulls out his bronzewood symbol of his Order. It was two outward facing crescents linked by a circle.

"This always makes me safe. Like no matter what, Mahiya is watching over me."

Kit reached a small hand for the bronzewood symbol that Ashe held out. He let her sweep her fingers underneath it, so she could angle the face towards her, while he held the symbol by the leather throng that was wrapped around his neck. She gently stroked the symbol from right to left with her thumb.

At procuring the symbol, Ashe had sighed at the effort it took to create it within Kit's mind. It always took a bit of psionic strength to alter any projected image within the mind of another psion. He smiled inwardly at the success in concealing the effort from her.

Wildfire

Ashe was practically burning a hole into her closed eyes with his stare. He showed no signs of acknowledging the question. Continueing his stare at Kit he whispers, "I'm reaching her...she'll be ready shortly. Stay prepared."

Ashe wanted to explain more but he didn't want to lose his concentration.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Griznuq

Laren looked from Jarmok to Ashe. "Is she ready Ashe?"
=]V[=

Johan

Jarmok looked intently at Laren. "Kit?" He called quietly. "Have drink, Kit." He bobbed his head for Laren to pour his glass into the girl.
Avatar Courtesy of The Image Bank

Dray

Ashe made no indication he was going to move away from Kit or explain his intentions, he simply held onto her, staring intently.

Dray

[Coordinated Post Between Dray & Wildfire]

Ashe gently tapped her face to wake her up. He knew that there was little precious time before it would be too late. He looked at Jarmok and then at Laren. He pursed his lips in frustration and then dashed to his many shelves of jars. Reaching up on to higher shelf, he grabbed a glass jar full of what appeared to be white pebbles. Opening the jar, he quickly dumped a few of them into his hand, spilling some on the floor that either rolled away or got stuck in blood. Rushing back to Kit, he shifted the salt pebbles to his fingertips and waved them under her nose. With no hint of movement, he stopped waving and simply held them just over her chin.

"C,mon girl, wake up!" he shouted. She made no movement whatsoever, her breathing still shallow, still vague.

He had a nervous and desperate look on his face. Jarmok and Laren stood bye sharing his anxiety, sensing that Ashe was running out of answers, sensing that he was at the end of his abilities to save her.

They were mistaken.

Ashe looked at the two friends and made a decision. He quickly leaned in and spoke purposefully close to his patient. With a quiet but stern voice he said,  "Alright, you want to play it this way? You want to push me to the edge?! There's no way I'm going to let you take her!"

Jarmok was alarmed at the odd behavior and almost put an arm up in Kit's defense, then the words took hold in his mind "...let you take her."

"Who you? Who take her?!" he demanded, but he received no answer, for as the question was asked Ashe grabbed the sides of Kit's head and closed his eyes.

*** PSYCHIC SURGERY ***

Ashe had performed psychic surgery on others before. In all cases it was a matter of him entering the subjects mind and intervening between the patient's intellect and with patient's spirit. In all these cases the intellect was afraid of death, so the patient's spirit disguised death by projecting a world around it that was a collection of thoughts and ideas from the patient's past. It was Ashe's task to convince the intellect that it was being fooled by the spirit in preparation of death. This was tricky. To do this, he had to establish a psychic anchor, to keep the spirit from changing the projected landscape within the subjects mind and hampering his efforts to gain confidence with the intellect. For he needed to gain trust with the intellect, and as an invader within the patient's mind and persona, this trust wasn't always quick to come.

He found himself walking through dusky opaque gray mist of her surface thoughts, or in the case lack thereof due to her unconsciousness. Through this mist created by the void of thought, he could feel emanating from a point "ahead" of him, shockwaves of an incredible aura of despair and fear. Traveling through the surface void of her mind, he was deeply anxious in penetrating this subconscious. He knew what he would find there, all of the raw emotion that was the result of the tragedies in her life. This raw emotion was the source of her Wilder power.

He reached it, there was no physical barrier per se, only the surface source of the shockwaves that now barraged him. He knew that it was simply a matter of taking one "step" forward and he would pass into the subconscious. He had always thought this was an easy transfer in all the times he had performed a psychic surgery, but he had never performed this operation on a Wilder.
 
He "stepped". The power of the raw emotion he found surprised him regardless of his preparation for it. What he discovered confirmed all of his thoughts about the girl, she truly was a unique psion and most likely a powerful wilder. He had hoped he was wrong, had hoped that she merely had special informal training, but this was not so.  This girl was an innate prodigy, her power brought on and developed through sheer force of will and emotion summoned by a tragic life. The power churning within her here was almost unbearable for him. This young girl, if she lived and was able to continue on, would become a very dangerous psion if allowed to tap into this source.

He fought off these thoughts of the future and continued forward, swimming with the shifting colors that represented the energy of her emotions. Sporadically a blurred shape would form nearby which he avoided direct sight of. The visions of this sort would only serve to distract him and unsettle him in their content.

He sifted blindly, reaching towards what would be the next barrier, after many moments he "touched" what he was looking for, a tangible physical wall that was concealed by the blinding color. He pushed and penetrated through this membrane-like wall with a hard, forcible push. He broke through with ease, which was not surprising, for in her physical state she could not even hope to defend this barrier against a psion as powerful as he. Passing the membrane, he had thrust into the very core of her persona. Ashe was now inside the area of refuge within the inner mind of Kitalia Lightower.

After a moment in darkness he transformed from an ethereal entity in an undefined landscape of grayness, into a large human man he couldn't identify. Looking down he saw that he was wearing a Kazbourne uniform and on his head was a broad-rimmed leather hat. At least he was a capable entity Ashe thought. Remembering one surgery patient who projected him into the image of a frog, 'was that a tough operation', Ashe thought.  

The hazy landscape of a town quickly formed ahead of him. The trees and buildings had undefined edges. Kossuth was lighting the abstract land and it was shining bright through a haze of lazy summer air. In the distance there were dark grey clouds quickly approaching over the mountains and towards him. Soon Kossuth would be overshadowed.

Ashe walked down the street and was drawn to a house that was clear in it's definition, the edges were not blurred and hazy like the other buildings. Ashe could feel a great sense of hope coming from it, and because of the intimate definition of the farmhouse, he knew Kit's intellect was within.

He knew he had to be cautious, one wrong move and Kit's spirit, the controller of all things and in effect the God of the world of her Inner Mind, could do and change anything it wanted. His only hope was to verify her intellect's position, establish a psychic anchor which would hold her to the current landscape and befriend her intellect. The difficulty of his mission was two fold, first contact with the image that represented her intellect and then the establishment of the anchor. This was never easy due to the fact that her spirit, which was normally too busy maintaining the false landscape, would detect his presence if he stepped too far outside the fantasy of its creation. It would then instill fear in her intellect and the two combined would flee via a landscape change.


Ashe stood for many moments, as still as a statue he appeared to be concentrating very intently, even though he simply held the girls' head between his hands.

Jarmok held his unanswered question, enduring his trust of the man. Laren seemed flustered at the inaction, thinking this was not a time to depend on prayer. He was about to say something when Kit interrupted by speaking in a quiet but surprisingly clear voice, a voice that was no longer haggard from the condition she was in. A voice that was pitched higher, mimicking a time when the lass must have been a few years younger.

"Mommmy, Daddy? Is it time to go?" she asked, but yet she did not stir or open her eyes.

Ashe knocked on the door. He always hated this part, for this was the true unknown phase of the operation. He would soon know, possibly the hard way, whether Kit's inner mind thought him an intruder a visitor to her world.

"Mommmy, Daddy? Is it time to go?"

Griznuq

"Do you have anything to wake her? Some salts or anything?"
=]V[=

Dray

Laren tip-toed around the blood on the floor, making his way to the head of the bed. He would have to climb up onto the bed when the time came to administer the drink that Ashe had charged him with; he quickly surveyed those spots that would lend him purchase for that seemingly long climb. None were so badly bloodied as to give him concern regarding their value as hand or toe holds.

Ashe meanwhile moved to the side of Kit?s bed, opposite Jarmok, and rested his palms on Kit, one on her upper back and one across her buttocks.

"Slip your fingers underneath her and let's roll her over as gently as possible. I will support her back while you gently roll her from the front. We don't need to roll her all the way." He counciled. "Laren, keep her head steady and when her face is aimed at the ceiling, pour the drink in." Ashe said. Jarmok noted a slight fear in his ancient eyes, and - for the first time - a bit of desperation as well. That was when Jarmok knew.

Somewhere from the pit of his stomach came the realization that in the doing of this thing that Ashe was about to guide them through, they would either save or lose their fight for Kit's life. This was their turning point. Jarmok coughed with no small emotion, trying to open his throat to croak out, "Kit maybe go now? Kit will now die or live?" He trusted that the herbalist would understand his meaning; he didn't think that he would be able to rephrase the question if he were to be misunderstood.

Ashe met Jarmok's eyes, and it was clear to the outlander that the elder did indeed understand. Jarmok saw in Ashe's eyes the broiling mixture of hope and despair that plagued his own heart.

"Yes Jarmok, I will not lie to you, this is as bad as her body can get and still hold on." He paused a moment and diverted his gaze. Then he continued, his voice as choked as Jarmok's had felt. "But this drink will keep her alive as the crystal is made. It will keep her alive." He sounded to Jarmok as though he was trying to comfort himself.

Laren looked back and forth between the two men and with a clear voice said, "You know, if we get to her drinking sooner rather than later we can return to being charmed by her endless talking."

Ashe and Jarmok broke from their worry and both gave the Halfling a half smile. "Ung." Jarmok grunted.

In a more serious, tight voice he then said, "I am not ready for this girl to die Ashe."

Ashe looked at Laren in a manner of respect and nodded. Jarmok placed a spidery hand on Laren's shoulder and said, "Small man, big person."

Jarmok then gently slipped his hands under Kit's front, one arm under her upper chest, the other at her hips, below Ashe's hands. Laren climbed up around Jarmok and held her head steady.

With a nod from Ashe they proceeded to roll her up onto her side as slowly and gently as they could. Ashe watched the blister while Jarmok concerned himself with her upper body. Laren deftly tracked her head with her body, moving the two as though they were solidly joined, keeping her spine as motionless as possible. In concert, the three of them rolled her slight frame over until her face, which had lain upon the pillow thus far, was facing towards the ceiling.

Her naked form had splotches of caked blood all about it. Her lower undergarment was so drenched with blood that it clung tightly to her, concealed nothing of her femininity. Her breasts, lips, fingers, and toes were turning blue while her normally pale skin was positively whitened. She remained flaccid and lifeless, her muscles apparently spent. She no longer shivered, though she was cool to the touch. Jarmok thought that her burning fever had apparently succumbed to the chill of the linens that once kept her from overheating.

The three men watched as her breathing slowed and became alarmingly shallow. In a matter of a few moments Kit's soul had started its departure from this world.

"Laren wait!" Ashe said a little too loudly. "She should have wakened in reaction to the pain when we moved her. She needs to be awake to ingest the potion."

Johan

"Hurng." [nods vigerously]
Avatar Courtesy of The Image Bank

Wildfire

"True, plants don't bleed...well, not like this." Ashe takes the cup of milky liquid nods to Laren and says, "This will help her with her bleeding...like a spider's web on an open wound. To my knowledge it won't affect the formation of the crystal. What it'll do is thiken her blood a little. I pray that her heart can withstand the the extra effort that will be needed to keep it pumping."

Ashe moves to give the drink to Kit who is laying face down. Seeing the awkwardness of the positioning Ashe says, "Okay, here the messy trick of this. She has to take this in full swallows if it's to work. The cloth is good to keep her hydrated but for this, not so much. So we need to roll her over. This has to be done with great care to not casue any damage to the blister. So, Jarmok and I will roll her over. Jarmok, you and I will then prop her up into a sitting position. I'll hold onto one side, and you'll hold onto the other. We'll tilt her head back and Laren, you'll then pour the juice down her throat. Then we'll flip her back onto her belly. We have to do this quickly so that her body doesn't drain of any more blood. This medicine acts quickly so once its down her throat she'll begin to stabilize."

Ashe hands the cup to Laren and looks to Jarmok, "Are you ready?"
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Griznuq

Laren moves with a precise quickness, only slightly accented by his fatigue.
=]V[=

Johan

"Plants not bleed." Jarmok looked around the bed and the room. "More blood than small persons has." He observed.
Avatar Courtesy of The Image Bank

Wildfire

Ashe walks over to Kit and as he places his hands on her face he says, "Oh don't worry Jarmok. Kit isn't turning into crystal. Her body is making a crystal, like a jewel, from her blood. Think of a plant budding into a flower."

Ashe upon touching her face looks to the blood soaked cloths and says nervously, "She's losing blood and she's doing it in a hurry! Laren, There's that milky fluid on my table. Bring it here quickly."
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

Jarmok became confused when Ashe mentioned that the blood is actually needed to make what will become a crystal.

"Kit will be crystal?" He asked. "Is why Kit is so cold now?" He wondered whether Kit would be a living crystal, or would be a statue. Would they be willing to put her statue up in the town? If not, he would ask if she could be stood near his home, where Kossuth's light would shine upon her every day.
Avatar Courtesy of The Image Bank

Dray

As Jarmok held the slight girl in his arms he noted that her temperature had dropped, she no longer had the intense heat emanating from every part of her body. 'Good' he thought, 'might sleep'.

He looked about the room that suddenly seemed quiet with Kit asleep. The scene was a dismal one. The chill cloths were scattered about, having lost their battle to her heat and her convulsions. He was covered in almost as much blood as she was. Her thrashing had gotten it eveywhere. The blister was now covered in goo and some powder that Ashe had sprinkled over her.

Yet it was still bleeding.

Laren was doing his best to clean up the floor where they needed to stand as it had become very slippery with it. And even he had not escaped from being dotted with their dear friends' blood. Ashe stood glaring at the wound like it was an enemy hiding in the bushes.

Something instinctual went off inside Jarmok, she was becoming a bit cool to the touch in fact...