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Mortal Coil

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Mortal Coil

Post by Echidna on Fri Apr 06, 2018 12:23 am

The problem with the living: they had needs. Desires. Physical bodies and intangible emotions. Brains and bodies fueled by chemicals.

But some were more. Some had powers more intangible. Powers that actively changed their physiology.

Echidna was at Karakura Hospital, her left hand in a cast as she played in a bed biting her lip. Her right leg was in a cast as well and the doctors had kept her for observations based on her blood work rather than the broken limbs.

She was highly annoyed with herself. She had been in Karakura looking to find new members for the Church. There's been a minor book sale and she had been heading out for drinks after. She hadn't seen the car coming around the corner until it was too late.

But since she had awoken in the hospital bed, she'd felt... Disconnected and unreal. At first she thought it had been sedatives, but then she realized that she couldn't reach out with her supernatural senses.
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Re: Mortal Coil

Post by Shiroki on Wed Apr 11, 2018 5:40 am

Ironically enough, it would be disturbingly easy to assassinate somebody in a hospital.

All those machines. All those drugs and medications. Each and every one of them potential accidents just waiting to happen. Just one mistake, one slip up and a healer would just as easily become a murderer instead.

Sobering thought. He never liked hospitals, and hoped he never ever had to go to one. There would be no way to verify if the doctors were who they said they were, no way to guard against enterprising assassins trying to assign an overdose of morphine or try their hand at arranging some impromptu surgery. Whistleblowing would be no help whatsoever either, since most hospitals were used to dealing with delirious patients. They'd just strap down the crazy protestor and continue with whatever it was that the chart schedule listed, nevermind that any psycho with the right pen could simply stroll up and replace the instructions for fun and profit.

He visited them occasionally sometimes. Hospitals. Not to do konso or anything, most of them already had assigned teams there given the frequency of deaths to occur. But more as a reminder of the finality of death and its likelihood of happening to everyone.

Speaking of likelihoods...wasn't that somebody who looked vaguely familiar?

He ducked into the ward for a closer look.
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Re: Mortal Coil

Post by Echidna on Wed Apr 18, 2018 3:20 pm

Echidna loved being a Fullbringer, despite hating the burden it had put on her. The biggest drawback to her Fullbring powers was the severe limitation on herself. Any damage to her body was enough to weaken her powers, since her object of Affinity was her body itself. She had once compared it to a Quincy whose cross was broken. While they could still manipulate reishi, it wasn't as easily. But for her, she lost all her powers when she was injured enough.

Apparently, a broken leg constituted being injured enough. Without her Lust, she was deprived of her ability to sense and see spirits. Which, she thought with irony, is what she'd spent so long inducing via medication. But now that she actively desired her powers, a simple car accident robbed her of them.

So, as she lay in her bed on the second floor, she ate her hospital food in grumpy silence, hoping her injuries healed quickly before it released her Thralls from their mental coercion.
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Re: Mortal Coil

Post by Shiroki on Wed Apr 18, 2018 11:23 pm

She could not see him.

That much was clear, given the lack of glaring or shouting. The fact that she hadn't so much as blinked in response to having a paw waved repeatedly in front of her face was strong confirmation to that hypothesis.

Well. The sneaky approach had been a complete waste of time then. Probably had been a waste of time from the start--but it was always good to err on the side of prudence. Getting out of the hospital bed to chase innocent spirits down and infect them with fullbringer cooties wasn't something he would put past her, especially after their last encounter.

Visiting hours usually coincided with mealtimes in most medical institutions, being the most convenient period for relatives to visit. The shared ward was therefore abuzz with conversation, leaving the scary lady's bed a forlorn island of empty silence in a sea of commotion brightly adorned with cheery balloons and get well soon cards.

Pretty depressing, in short. Even to an assassin.

Not that there was much that could be done in any case. He supposed he could've gone to the outer districts and drag the entire pack out for a visit--except that rowdy kids in hospital settings weren't exactly the best idea. Nor would it accomplish much, if the person they were visiting remained unable to see her visitors. That made for some boring bedside conversation at best, unless they all came equipped with gigai or something. Unlikely, since usage of those were restricted to official business.

Looking around at the sea of flowers and cards inspired an idea. One of the beds was empty, recently vacated when its former occupant was discharged. Whoever it was hadn't bothered to take most of the flowers with them, and so there they would stay until some orderly came by to sweep up the remnants and dump them into the trash.

Such a waste. Many of the decorations were artificial plastic blooms that would retain their colour long after real flowers started to wither and fade. Long-term low-maintenance presents, in other words. Pondering over the selection, he chose one of the smaller assortment bouquets instead of the bigger ones that nurses would immediately notice go missing. He swiped a card to match, one of those blank store-bought ones without a name or anything written.

A moment's work in the staff lounge with an unidentified cup of spilled coffee would be more than enough to change that. Dab paw into puddle, press pad into card, and voila--instant personalization. She'd know who it was from, at least.

Or maybe she wouldn't--their encounter hadn't lasted all that long, come to think of it. Oh well. It was the thought that counts.

He set both flowers and card atop the bedside table while she was busy eating. One good thing about hospitals--they came with a continuous bustle of activity that made it easy to overlook small things like get-well-cards popping up where there had been none before.

In a way, this might be all for the best. With spiritual energy this bedridden lady would have been a Hollow magnet at best and a obstacle to the field shinigami at worst. Without it, she would no longer attract the wrong kinds of attention and might even enjoy a long; if possibly boring life.

Delivery made, it was probably time to open a Senkaimon and leave

--well, after the program on the hospital TV switched to commercials anyway.
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