voidtreckerexpress | (no subject)

Who: Conan and Anyone
What: Concussion recovery time. Which means quiet and rest. And so much boredom.
Where: Cabin 1B, Possibly other places
When:Domino 13-15

Domino 13 and 14:
Conan had studied first aid and emergency medical care. He fully understood why he needed to rest his body and mind. Why he really shouldn't even read for the first two days after a concussion.

Unfortunately resting his brain meant that practically everything he liked to do was out of the question. No reading, no solving puzzles or playing strategy games or doing anything to occupy his mind. And the lingering headache and dizziness wasn't helping matters.

Leaning back against the pillow on his bunk, Conan stares up at the ceiling in mind-numbing boredom and wonders if he should try to make another attempt at sleeping.

Domino 15:
Two days in, and he was finally starting to feel more like himself. Picking his moment, Conan slides out of the bunk and slips out into the hallway. If he was quick about it maybe he could have a change of scenery for a short time before someone realized he was still supposed to be resting.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Conan settles in to listen.

"We tracked the Amal'jaa down to some old ruins only to be betrayed by a false priest who thought he could get a better deal from them than us." Dread's smirk said that 'justice', such as it was, had come for the man already. "So we all ended up taken by them and thrown into a cavern to await our fate. That fate turned out to be tempering by the primal Ifrit, as it happened."

"I'm not sure what that means."

He'd understood about half of that."

Dread acknowledged that with a nod. "I barely knew either at the time. Primals are beings created by the faith of worshippers and the power of crystals. The beast tribes each have their own primal, like Ifrit. And a primal has the ability to reshape a person's soul into utter devotion to them..."

"That is the tempering you mentioned?"

He was guessing here. All of this was completely different from everything Conan knew about the world.

Dread nodded. "There's no treatment, no cure. If it happens to someone, the only recourse is a merciful death. Otherwise their faith and devotion just empowers the primal further. It's a vicious cycle."