Chris Freeman (
thelatechrisfreeman) wrote in
ph_logs2024-07-01 04:53 pm
[OPEN] She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before
Who: Chris Freeman (
thelatechrisfreeman) & you (or maybe you? perhaps you?)
What: the bitch is back, baby!
When: the month of July
Where: various places around the island
Warning(s): discussion of illness and death likely
I said 'I'm just tired', she said 'You're just high.' [Back to Work]
The reason that Chris hasn't been social, like... at all? For about two months now? Post-flood outbreak of pneumonia among patients of the Winterbottom Clinic. They took full responsibility, refusing much in the way of help, and thus their days have been full of treatment and sometimes palliative care for the most frail.
There were also concerns about not burning through the antibiotic supplies for this particular outbreak, which led to some difficult decisions and even more difficult days and nights...
But now, finally, things are looking up. There haven't been any re-infections for a whole week. Chris walks from their house to the clinic proper, looking forward to a shift filled with cases other than infectious disease.
Feel free to swing by the clinic to say hello, now that they've finally emerged from their self-imposed sequestration.
Oh, I make you cringe now; don't I make you cringe? [Something Life Balance]
Newer arrivals may not remember this or not have been present, but Chris was downright weird upon first coming to Marrow Isle. They've apparently reverted back to that, what with being found up a tree, or on a roof, or wandering along the surf's edge and chattering away to empty air.
Perhaps you feel like figuring out what's going on with them?
Lover come hold me, head's on the fritz [Breaking Bread]
Chris could probably cook for themself, sure. They've had enough practice with baking, and simple cooking. But sometimes meals are about more than getting fed. Sometimes meals are about community.
Perhaps you catch Chris at one of the meals after Wednesday service in the Temple of Sacred Roots. Or maybe you notice them sitting at a table at the Oak and Iron some other night. You'll be waved over to sit beside them once they notice you!
What: the bitch is back, baby!
When: the month of July
Where: various places around the island
Warning(s): discussion of illness and death likely
I said 'I'm just tired', she said 'You're just high.' [Back to Work]
The reason that Chris hasn't been social, like... at all? For about two months now? Post-flood outbreak of pneumonia among patients of the Winterbottom Clinic. They took full responsibility, refusing much in the way of help, and thus their days have been full of treatment and sometimes palliative care for the most frail.
There were also concerns about not burning through the antibiotic supplies for this particular outbreak, which led to some difficult decisions and even more difficult days and nights...
But now, finally, things are looking up. There haven't been any re-infections for a whole week. Chris walks from their house to the clinic proper, looking forward to a shift filled with cases other than infectious disease.
Feel free to swing by the clinic to say hello, now that they've finally emerged from their self-imposed sequestration.
Oh, I make you cringe now; don't I make you cringe? [Something Life Balance]
Newer arrivals may not remember this or not have been present, but Chris was downright weird upon first coming to Marrow Isle. They've apparently reverted back to that, what with being found up a tree, or on a roof, or wandering along the surf's edge and chattering away to empty air.
Perhaps you feel like figuring out what's going on with them?
Lover come hold me, head's on the fritz [Breaking Bread]
Chris could probably cook for themself, sure. They've had enough practice with baking, and simple cooking. But sometimes meals are about more than getting fed. Sometimes meals are about community.
Perhaps you catch Chris at one of the meals after Wednesday service in the Temple of Sacred Roots. Or maybe you notice them sitting at a table at the Oak and Iron some other night. You'll be waved over to sit beside them once they notice you!

no subject
"We can't help the ghosts move on yet. With the barrier still up, they are as trapped as the rest of us. Mortanne told me so in a message. What we can do is help them find... a measure of peace and happiness, even if they have to linger here." They give Lev/Lyubov a little smile. "Maybe that's why it's harder for you to see them? I don't think Mortanne wants anyone to hurt themselves trying to reach past the barrier to help ghosts move on."
With a sheepish look, Chris admits, "Once, I tried reaching out to a spirit native to my home universe, and my body went wandering out at night as well. Which isn't how that's supposed to work. I'm just lucky I ended up on a friend's porch."
no subject
"Good, good that ... that thou hast such friends, who'll object not but help thee," Lev/Lyubov says, very earnest. "I mean, like ... nu, by thee, such things are uncommon, but by me, by us back where I was born, any contact with those not yet moved on, even with those what died and died not fully, it requires some contact with the Silver. And, feh. For some of us, the Silver is like an intoxicant, or bright lights. Not always, but often enough. I don't wander, but I've had fits?"
Sie sighs, also a little sheepish.
"They've always said, I have one foot already in the Silver. Nyura, he can walk in and out like fetching jars from the pantry, nu? I have less control. So I'd suspect thou hast the right of it, and Mortanne's like ... protecting us as much as anyone could. Since I think the barrier would keep me out of the Silver, too, if it even reaches this far."
Sie refrains from specifying outright what or who sie thinks Mortanne is, figuring there's no need to get into the weeds of the angels appointed to watch over the nations.
"Whom hoped'st thou to contact? If like, that's not too private a matter. If it's like, private, then feel free to say not."
no subject
(While Chris isn't a convert, they've picked up on the devout vibe from many of their patients. If Lev started speaking of Mortanne being an angel rather than a goddess, with the two of them in public, Chris would counsel caution regardless of their own views. Perhaps in a more private setting, it would feel less risky for Lyubov and Chris to discuss. As it is, since sie refrained, that caution goes unvoiced.)
"It's not private. There was... I suppose you could call him an old sage. Lord Arion lived during what we call 'the Ninth Age of Magic', when there were many Lords of Order and Chaos. It is 'the Tenth Age of Magic' in the current day of my world, and I think there is only one of each now. I had hoped for some insight... but due to the barrier, I never even had a change to speak to Lord Arion."
no subject
Lev/Lyubov sighs.
"I never considered not, that the Silver is part of why I can do the things I do," sie says, a little glumly. "This place, it has always felt ... strange, but all places feel strange. But the longer I spend here, the more aware I become of it. Maybe it is merely the barrier, nu? Or ..."
Sie shrugs, shrugging off the thought. It's unknowable right now. And anyway, sie's much more interested in the details of Chris's world right now, and in the mysterious Sage they'd mentioned.
"Spoke'st thou to Lord Arion before, then? Or ... wert thou hoping thou would'st never have the need?"
no subject
Chris nods. "Just once. A descendant of his was killed... and I helped her get justice by figuring out clues to her killer and making sure the police were able to pursue the man. Lord Arion was happy to welcome her to what comes after, once she was at peace. And he said I might call on him for help should I need it."
no subject
"Trouble not walking through the door when it opened, nu?" Lev/Lyubov says, cryptically. "And like ... I do know some ... like, I suppose they're meditation techniques, but mine uncle never had to guard himself as much as I did, from the Silver. I think ... if thou'rt willing to teach me, I'd like to learn those techniques from thee. Please."
Lev/Lyubov considers what Chris said about Lord Arion, and then smiles, and looks at Chris with a little surprise, as if some matter has finally clarified itself to hir.
"So thou did'st the same work mine husband did, nu?" sie says. "At least like, in part? Making sure the dead linger not where they can only haunt."
no subject
no subject
Lev/Lyubov nods.
"Nu," they say, a little sadly — yes, true. But regrettable that such things are not a guarantee. "But like, I got the impression ... by thy world, such callings as thine, they're, like. Rare?"
no subject
Chris frowns a little, the upset rooted in what they will have to describe, not anything that Lev/Lyubov has said or done. "There's two reasons that my, uh, calling -- as you say -- is rare. First, I don't think that there are many who can do what I do... what Mr. Keeper and I do. Second... it isn't safe to advertise that you have powers in my world. You'll either get drawn into fights between the supervillains and the superheroes, or the government will snatch you up and make you work for them."
no subject
"Ah," says Lev/Lyubov, and winces, not least in sympathy.
"Nu. I mean, like. I suppose back home, such things are too common to receive such focused attention ... but. Feh. Nyura and his sister, they really had little choice of profession, as soon as it became clear they like, took after their grandfather and could talk to those what others see not."
"But ... there is little danger of ..." they gesture, a little vaguely. "I'm not like, sure what thou mean'st by superheroes, but like ... I get the gist it involves trouble of the kind most people prefer to never encounter. But Nyura, like. Nyura's had to go looking for such trouble. It would have found him not, if he sought it not."
no subject
"You mean government trouble?" Chris asks, rather more bluntly than before.
no subject
Lev/Lyubov winces, but not at Chris. It's the topic itself that's sensitive.
"Nu, I suppose?" they say. "Nyura, he. Well. He was a courtier?" They pause, looking down at the ground. It's best if they avoid scrutinising Chris's face just now. Best if they don't try to pre-empt any reaction. Chris, after all, is their friend and deserves their honesty.
"He was ... pretty high up, too. Like. Feh—"
They take a deep breath and look up, though they still avoid meeting Chris's eye — but not out of shame, nor shyness. Merely conserving energy. Even from the little Chris has said, Lev/Lyubov has heard enough to surmise this conversation is going to be a taxing one for both of them.
"I suspect thou ... know'st, nu?" they say. "They offer protection with the right hand, and throw one into peril with the left. They offer status, as long as thou'rt a credit to them and their plans. And if Nyura had like ... if sın Falk had not ... if Nyura had never been one of the Court Physicians, I doubt he would've been noticed."