006 → Wandering soul

[wrigurun]

Characters: Wriggle Nightbug, Open
Setting: Floor 48
Format: Post in action, tags in prose or action
Summary: If you venture up to the graveyard tonight there seems to be something lurking about.
Warnings: None

[It certainly had gotten colder all of a sudden. Though the graveyard might be dark a few scattered lights dance in the distance. Faint at first but they gave a distinct, warm glow. Getting a little closer it appears that they're surrounding a small figure draped in white. The folds of the fabric billowed ever so slightly in the breeze as they drifted through the collection of stones. Even though they haven't noticed you, you might have noticed their feet never once touched the floor. If they had feet. It was hard to tell.

Without a sound they stopped. A slight turn of the head, had they noticed you? Maybe not but there's a quiet sniffle and a few gasping breaths. Were they crying or...?]

Ah-ch!

[Probably not. Oddly enough it seems like there are more worms around than usual. Perhaps they have something to do with it]

Comments

[wrigurun]

Are you sure...

We can get some medicine for you too!

[vermicompost]

I think I can figure it out.

No, medicine won't help me. It's not the regular kind of sick.

[wrigurun]

I don't get it...

[He didn't seem like he was badly sick, in fact he didn't seem sick at all. Wriggle rubbed her face on the sheets again and sniffed loudly]

If medicine won't help then what will?

[vermicompost]

There's a healer here who makes me feel a little better, but there's nothing that can really cure me.

[He puts a hand to the left side of his face, which is slack, his left eye pale and sightless. And the forms of the worms are visible beneath his skin, like prominent veins.]

You see, there's something else living inside me. But like I said, I'll be all right. [Although he's lying. Back home, he'd had a few weeks left to live, at best.]

[wrigurun]

[Wriggle leans in to look closer and feels both a sense of wonder and uneasiness]

What is it?

[vermicompost]

They're called Crest Worms. They're my family's familiars.

[They almost sound harmless when he puts it like that, as if they're friendly residents, which is far from the case. Thinking of them so specifically causes him to tense, and the worms move slightly beneath his skin.]

[wrigurun]

[That uneasiness seems to fade once she knows what they are. Her face even brightens a little]

So the worms are making you sick...?

I can help then!

[Without even asking she tries to use her powers, the ability to control bugs. Wriggle's not even sure if they'll work since she's not used to dealing with worms that can live inside of people but she's eager to help where she can]

[vermicompost]

That's right. You can–?

[He had tried to make it seem less serious, so as not to alarm her, but he hadn't anticipated such a cheerful reaction. And then he breaks off and gives a start as the worms seem to respond to--something. It doesn't hurt as much as usual, but it feels strange.]

What– what are you doing, Nightbug?

[wrigurun]

The worms are making you sick, right? I can make them go away!

[Then a thought finally hits her and she stops trying to shift them]

Wait... do they need you to live?

[vermicompost]

No– they don't. But they're dangerous.

[He pauses before what he says next. He doesn't really want to say it.]

And I need them. For when I go back.

[What if he gets back home and he doesn't have them? He won't be able to win the war without the power they give him.]

[wrigurun]

It's no problem for me! I can keep them under control!

But... if they make you sick why do you need them?

[vermicompost]

You can? [The thought that he might be able to escape this constant pain is tempting, but at the same time, he's reluctant. It seems almost too good to be true, that it could be so simple.] I'm not sure. There's a man who controls them. He tells them what to do. He isn't here, but he made them, and they might not listen to you.

They help me fight. With magic.

[wrigurun]

[A man who controls them? A rival perhaps?]

Of course they'll listen to me! Just like the worms out here.

[As she promised, the worms from the graveyard started to burrow up and gather around her feet. They seem pretty content until Wriggle let out a rather loud sneeze, startling some of them and losing her control over others]

[vermicompost]

[He's still unsure about all this. Especially when she sneezes.]

That's impressive, and I believe you, but it's very important. They could hurt someone.

[wrigurun]

[Wriggle simply shrugs in response]

If they're going to hurt people it's probably for self-defense or survival. I bet they're really not so bad!

[vermicompost]

They feed on people's energy. They're not normal worms. They're magical, and... The person who made them is– not a nice person.

[wrigurun]

Magic, really?

That's kinda cool...

[vermicompost]

Yes, really, but they're not cool. [They're awful, in his opinion.] Like I said, they're dangerous. I don't want them to hurt anyone. [They can survive outside his body. What if somehow, they infested someone else?]

[wrigurun]

But they're hurting you, aren't they? You said they don't need to live in you to survive, right?

[vermicompost]

They are. [He won't deny it.] And they don't.

But I have to have them. I chose to have them. [He might be being a bit irrationally stubborn.] I can't fight without them.

[wrigurun]

Oh yeah, 'cause they're magic, right?

[Wriggle doesn't really understand why someone would deliberately make themselves sick to have magic but then again she doesn't understand a lot of things]