• Solo • [Infirmiry]I Spy with my Fly Eyes

Slave thread 2, in which Nzi Experiments with his powers more.

Stronghold of education and learning, this fortress is in one of the coldest areas of Idalos and home to many knowledge seekers in a variety of disciplines. However, unknown to most, below the city are those who suffer for the sake of science. While all are welcome, not everyone will be treated as they expect

Moderator: Splinter

Post Reply
User avatar
Nzi'fuma
Approved Character
Posts: 69
Joined: Mon Mar 19, 2018 3:26 pm
Race: Sev'ryn
Profession: Slave
Renown: +35
Character Sheet
Secrets
Plot Notes
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

[Infirmiry]I Spy with my Fly Eyes

Mon Jan 14, 2019 3:30 pm

Image
53rd Zi'Da 718


As the days wore on, Nzi felt less bothered by the cold that pervaded the north. At first he attributed his newfound resistance to the temperature to time spent acclimating himself to his surroundings. Although he'd been sick with both whooping cough and whatever he'd contracted from that dirty hamper, he didn't feel the chill. After a while, his sickness progressed to a hacking cough, to where he had to bring up phlegm. That was the stage, he realized, the blessing of disease was leaving him. It almost made him sad.

The egg trembled inside him, as his sickness grew weaker with each passing trial. Perhaps that was the source of his newfound resistance. It reverberated throughout his being, perhaps taking the chill onto itself? He couldn't say. All he could tell was that he wasn't even bothered by the cold. Even so, as the cold sank into his bones, he could feel a different sensation. That of his movements becoming slower. He felt as if every arm and limb movement was moving through syrup when the cold got to its most oppressive lows.

Nevertheless, his tasks as a slave would not wait. He went about his laundry duties. Orderlies and nurses brought down hampers full of dirtied linens and clothes, filthy discarded bandages, and other assorted waste associated with the treatment of injury and disease. He entered a sort of trance as he went about these duties.

At times, he experimented with his torpor, to see how deep within the restful state he could go while still performing his tasks. Most of the duties they set him to were mind-numbing and simple. Dip this garment in such a fluid, splash this fluid on that bandage. Move and replace. Stitch the tear in this or that garment, weave a twine to repair another patient's robe. All very boring stuff.

He found it easier to maintain torpor during the most repetitive of tasks. His eyes half-lidded while he went through the motions, counting up from nothing, and resetting whenever a thought came unbidden to his mind.

If he intended to escape his fate as a slave, it would have to begin with evading the detection of the thought police. So he became the keeper of his own thoughts. Partitioning would wait for another day, when he was more advanced in his ability to segregate his thoughts from conscious to subconscious. In the meantime, he swatted those thoughts that occurred to him in the moment, going about his tasks on autopilot for the most part.

His hands worked quickly over the linens, cleaning them with a simple washboard. He focused on the sound as he counted up. Numbering the amount of strokes of wet and soapy linens against the washboard. Swish swash, drip drip and wring dry. He hung it on a line when he was done, and repeated the process. It would be enough to drive most men of more than average intelligence mad with boredom, but for Nzi there was something to be said of simple, peaceful tasks that could be done without much thought.

He looked at the diseased materials as they washed off each garment, lamenting their loss. There would be another day for experimentation. For now he had to keep his low profile, having managed to evade suspicion of his fellow slaves since the last instance where he'd ventured from their quarters of a night.

As he stared at the dying organic matter in the wash water, he was compelled to reach out to it. He stuck his hand in the warmish water, bringing the dirtied materials to his nose and sniffing once more of Lisirra's rotten essence. Ahhh... The sense of smell was returning to him presently. It was fascinating to Nzi how a cold could so drastically alter the smells and taste of things around him. It wouldn't be too long before it returned entirely, and he got a true sense of what the diseased matter smelled like. Perhaps Lisirra would bless him again before Cylus?

"Snap out of it!" Said a fellow slave from behind him. "Faster! We've got loads of more laundry items coming in and I don't want to catch you slacking."

Nzi bent forward, shielding his head with his arms in mock cowardice. "Yes yes!" He managed in heavily accented common. "I clean good!"

He continued his meditative state while exiting his state of torpor. Zero, one, two. He wondered, no that wasn't right. Must clip the thoughts in the bud. Zero, one, two, three, four, another trace of thought, a daydream of a time when he might be free of Viden. A momentary glimpse of the Plaguelands, before he stifled that dream with the oppressive march of numbers up from his thought process.

Within a few breaks the tasks were done, and the slaves were allowed to laze for a few bits of time.

Nzi went over to eat his meager porridge that they granted them for nourishment. To him, it was ambrosia. All it lacked was perhaps some cloying sweet honey. But he found he needed less in the way of food since taking on the blessing of Yithnai. It excited him, enough to break himself out of his meditative trance. But everytime he broke his trance, he reentered it, determined to improve his skill at controlling his own thoughts.

He finished the meal, and then looked to the other slaves gathered there. He let a small smirk cross his face, as an instinct occurred to him. His nose buzzed with the lingering remnants of the cold that was in the process of healing.

The couple of slaves he approached were chatting, "I heard one of the doctors talking about their patient... Said one of them were cured in the night all of a sudden."

The other slave merely shrugged, and then cast a glance toward Nzi as he swiftly approached. Before they could so much as move aside, he sneezed in her face, as forcefully as he could. And it was a real sneeze. As the diseased aspiration exited his nose and mouth, he willed the carried disease within him to take up residence within the slave woman.

Before she could react, he bowed to her, "Pardon." He said in common, and swiftly made his way out of the eating area before they could throw more than one bowl at his head.

word count: 1089
Nzi'Fuma is going by the name Zemos until further notice
User avatar
Nzi'fuma
Approved Character
Posts: 69
Joined: Mon Mar 19, 2018 3:26 pm
Race: Sev'ryn
Profession: Slave
Renown: +35
Character Sheet
Secrets
Plot Notes
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Re: [Infirmiry]I Spy with my Fly Eyes

Wed Jan 23, 2019 1:41 am

Image

About ten trials after the fact, Nzi'fuma found out that the woman he'd coughed at had been already sick. After infecting her, complications formed from her previous illness, and she died. He pondered that mistake for a while, all while trying to keep his thoughts quiet. It was not easy. Perhaps he was failing, and didn't even realize it. Perhaps the walls were closing in, Yvithia's agents would be coming for him in the night.

The twenty trials that followed from that instant, the illness spread, raging throughout the slave pens. He'd unwittingly loosed a disease that when in the wild, mutated and copulated with the sickness in that woman. It had been a harmless diseases, and then became something far worse. Something that could bring even the heartiest laborer to their knees.

But not Nzi. He sat, cross-legged in his cot of a night, having recovered well enough from his whooping cough he'd contracted all those seasons ago in Desnind. Not a moment too soon either. He almost suspeced he would be blessed until the arc turned over to Ashan once more, and he was back where he started.

He thought back to that time, when he'd indulged those poor sick children in a bit of storytelling, and evaded the suspicion of the nurse in charge of the sick house.

He would return there one day again, soon. But not before escaping Viden's thought police.

Yet those icey walls closed in around every day, seeming to melt and condensate with every contraction of his lungs. With every sick patient they dragged dead from that place.

A thought occurred to him then, and for once he didn't care of Yvithia's agents nearby heard it. He wanted to meet this goddess, who shared so much in common with his own Lisirra. They were both seekers of knowledge, poking and proding at mortal life like a child who'd discovered that bugs crawl under rocks.

He would meet her, he decided. And so his thoughts closed off as he entered another bout of meditation. He barely noticed the black haired woman casting glances at him as she paced the corridors outside the slave quarters. He had seen her about lately, and wondered if she wanted something from him. If she knew who and what he was, and if she could read his minds despite his best attempts to hide his thoughts.

He sighed in his torpor, and closed his eyes. When he awoke, he was in darkness, strapped to a table by leathery binds, buckled with cold iron.
word count: 444
Nzi'Fuma is going by the name Zemos until further notice
User avatar
Fridgar
Approved Character
Posts: 1120
Joined: Mon Jan 02, 2017 10:44 pm
Race: Lotharro
Profession: Jeger
Renown: +440
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Secrets
Plot Notes
Partner
Player Review
Templates
Letters
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 6
Medal count: 20

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

Re: [Infirmiry]I Spy with my Fly Eyes

Wed Jan 23, 2019 10:40 pm

Image
Rewards for the two-legs's

Points: 10

Knowledge:
Meditation: Meditation by the numbers.
Meditation: Eliminating thoughts as they occur.
Meditation: Being patient enough to start the meditation over again.
Meditation: Repetitive tasks help the meditative process.
Yithnai: Carrier: Spreading disease to others.
Yithnai: Egg: Growing accustomed and resistant to cold, though the chill weakens and slows his movements.

Loot: -1 Disease
Injuries: -1 whooping cough I guess
Fame: I guess if no one saw you get kidnapped, 0
Magic: Nope

Comment: The ending surprised me a bit, so did sneezing in that girls face. SO DID THE DISEASE MUTATING INTO SOMETHING LETHAL AND SPREADING. Overall this was quite surprising, even if you spent half the thread meditating and cleaning. I'll keep an eye out for the next thread, enjoy the rewards!

Code: Select all

[center][img]http://standingtrials.com/gallery/image.php?album_id=39&image_id=7914[/img][/center]
Image
Please paste my thingy here!
word count: 166
Image
"Who needa politics when you can eat the politics."
-Nightshade Eld 02/02/19
Post Reply

Return to “Viden”