An evening like any else. Or perhaps it was better to call it a night. That was pretty much everything Twilight Town had these days, darkness with the light of a broken moon. Well, perhaps it was a bit cloudier and a bit windier than usual, something Marmadue noticed when he noticed adjusting his collar to better protect himself from the elements. A reminder that even though things looked the same, everything was still moving, changing? Alive, despite everything? Perhaps. But that was starting to get a bit more poetic than he had intended to go that day…
His mission had been simple. Fetch some supplies. Being the first stop for many newcomers to the town – especially the injured kind – and taking care of those who were hurt meant he needed food and water to give to those who needed them. And, well, he too needed those important things to keep living. All the Yuke really could hope for in regards to that was to depend on the kindness of others, making himself useful enough so others would want him to survive and stick around. Something that had worked this long – and perhaps it was working even better now that the giant Heartless' attack had happened. When even grave injuries could be mended with magic, it made the chances of living that much better.
With a small wooden box filled with various items and, most importantly, food, Marmadue was ready to depart and head back home. He was already bidding farewell to the people who had helped him, but a rather ominous rumble stopped him in his tracks, causing a chill to run up his spine and ruffle his neck feathers. That… Was never a good sign, in this town! Another attack? It could have been. Or perhaps something had been broken. Considering the ruined status of Twilight Town, many of the buildings that still stood tall wouldn't be able to continue in that state without repairs. Especially when there had just been a Heartless attack that caused even more destruction!
Marmadue took off. He couldn't drop his extra weight so it was hardly a peak performance, but whatever had happened, he knew he had to be close. He couldn't very well rush to the scene just like that, in case it was more Heartless. No, the Yuke would just get himself killed! But he was needed where people were hurt. He had to get nearby. Luckily, as far as he could tell, the sounds had been coming from Market Street. Perhaps he would have to get everything ready at his home? Perhaps he needed to hear from someone who had been at the scene? Oh, he never was good at this kinds of situations when he was supposed to make important decisions!
Where the Yuke eventually ended up was home. Well, at least something that had started to resemble a home, the little building he had taken refuge in. When he got inside, no one else was there. Some unmade bedrolls rested on the floor, from previous occupants – perhaps gone to look what had happened, or perhaps they had left even before that? It was hard to say, when Marmadue wasn't there to see. He dropped his box on the counter, turning with the intention of leaving. He had to go figure out what had happened, in case he was needed… Right?
Post by Maxwell Tendas on Sept 12, 2018 10:47:04 GMT -4
Max hobbled through the streets of Twilight Town, still dazed from what had happened just shortly before. He could still see the boy’s face as the small cavern inside the rubble began to collapse on them. Max had been lucky enough to make it out alive, even considering the large gash in his leg and the puncture wound in his shoulder. He was covered in all manner of dirt and grime that had been in the dust that rose up with the building’s collapse, and there was no telling how much had gotten into his wounds.
He wiped some of the sweat from his brow, leaving streaks in the dirt covering his face as he approached the hut of Marmadue. He was a Yuke, some sort of strange avian-like race from another world, or so Max had been told. He remembered seeing the strange feathered-and-armored Yuke when he had come back in a flash of light following the fight with the Chaos Hide, but he didn’t recall anything about him past that. But he had been told this was the place to go for healing, and so here he was.
He limped up to the door, right arm clutched to his chest as blood seeped out of his shoulder and down his arm, staining his shirt sleeve in the process, and the same happening with a large gash high up on his right thigh. He stood as straight as he could and knocked loudly with his left hand before opening the door and stepping in.
“Hello?” He called out after noticing the room he was in was empty, “Are you here Marmadue?”
A knock. With all his rushing and busywork, it was a prominent noise that almost went unnoticed by Marmadue as he prepared to leave. Almost. It registered in his mind, somewhat, but only made him stop as if he couldn't quite figure out what a person was supposed to do when someone knocked on his door. Luckily the person behind that action didn't dillydally and let themselves in, the creak of a door snapping the Yuke out of his confusion. And if that sound wouldn't have done the trick, the familiar voice of a man he hadn't expected to hear certainly would have!
"M-Mister Maxwell!" He called out as he rushed to see his visitor – and while his voice would have been colored with that of surprise to see the man in question, it took a very different tone when his gaze settled on Maxwell before the words made it out of his throat. The man was a mess! Not just in the sense that he was covered in dirt, but, but… Blood! Large gashes and punctures had ripped into the man's clothes and flesh, blood seeping out and staining the fabric before it couldn't absorb any more and just dribbled…
"G-Good heavens!" Marmadue exclaimed in shock, rushing over to the man who probably shouldn't be walking in that condition. Couldn't? Something like that. It definitely took him a moment to figure out what to even do, his motions panicky as he hovered over Maxwell with exclamations of oh dear and oh no. That was a lot of blood. Enough to make the Yuke feel so awfully cold all of a sudden, his breath feeling like it was getting stuck in his throat. Maybe it was? He wasn't entirely sure if he even was breathing anymore.
It was far from the quickest way to handle such a situation, but eventually Marmadue was offering Maxwell a shoulder to hold onto, if he needed it. "Dear me, ah… You should ah, sit down. Or lie down. Or, or," oh he didn't even know anymore, but he nodded towards the unmade bedrolls resting on the floor. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn't have time to get them out of the way just yet.
Post by Maxwell Tendas on Sept 19, 2018 6:52:35 GMT -4
Max wasn’t sure how it was possible to tell that someone went pale through a helmet, much less someone who was also covered in feathers, but Marmadue managed to somehow make it apparent that Max was not a pretty sight at the moment. Before the Yuke moved closer and began offering Max places to lie down, the Grendamite had already lowered himself to sit, painfully, in a nearby chair.
“Marmadue, stop,” he said forcefully, wincing at the pain in his thigh as he lowered himself into the chair slowly with a sigh, “I’ll be fine. I’m not bleeding anymore. The bleeding’s been taken care of.”
He sat there for a moment before reaching up with his good arm to pull his leather vest off to reveal more of his shoulder wound underneath. Broken rings of mail surrounded the wound, a couple of the broken ends stuck into the edges of the angry, red puncture wounds. He carefully reached over and pulled the few broken rings stuck into the wounds and pulled his mail shirt off, then his regular cloth shirt as well, revealing nearly a dozen bright, white scars criss-crossing his torso. The most noticeable was a large circular scar in the middle of his chest with jagged edges.
“I just need a little...idunno, magic or something to help the healing along. Cause if i’m being honest, it kinda hurts.”
Marmadue stopped. It was an order that had an immediate effect, even if he had a habit of being quite… Frantic, in situations like these. But Maxwell had always taken the position of something of a leader, someone who told others what to do. Despite everything that had happened and how the man had been on the run, seemingly quite confused and unsure of, well, most things, right now it felt as if none of that had happened. As if it was that Maxwell that had been there since the start, planning, protecting… Someone even the Yuke could trust to know better than him – unconsciously if nothing else – and react immediately.
He wasn't exactly calm, but he could manage. Marmadue took a deep breath. Maxwell wasn't the one who should be calming him down, he was the one who was injured and in pain! He couldn't help but wince as the man started to peel off his layers, revealing the wounds underneath. No wonder Maxwell was having a difficult time moving around…
"A-Ah yes. Of course. Forgive me," the Yuke stammered, bracing himself and doing his best to calm his nerves. He took a step closer, leaning over to bring his hands closer to the seated man, one large, feathered hand hovering over his shoulder, the other over the wound on the thigh. A gentle greenish glow started to envelope Marmadue's hands, steadily growing stronger. There was a… Warmth that could be felt, on Maxwell's skin, and… Inside. That's where the healing process started, from the deepest parts, the flesh knitting itself back together. Anything that might have been stuck inside was slowly but surely being pushed out, rejected by the body. The magic wasn't instantaneous, the size of the wounds affecting the time it took.
Any scars that already existed stayed. They weren't injuries, after all, just skin that had healed thicker. What was left behind the magic as it finally got all the way up to the skin wasn't scarred, however.