towerofanimus | The weather's annoying, isn't it?

Characters: Enoch and anyone!
Setting: Around the tower, forward-dated to the 12th.
Format: Either is fine!
Summary: Enoch made several cloaks last week and is handing them out....even if he's sick.
Warnings: None yet!

He'd been pressing his luck, going around and trying to give comfort or company to the sick. Though, one couldn't blame him, given that the most illness he's had in a century is a bit of an upset stomach. He's built up quite a resistance.

He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be truly sick, to have a headache behind his eyes and for his limbs to feel weighted. But he wasn't letting it stop him. He was going to give out these cloaks he made before it got even worse. So he wandered the tower, handing out a cloak to anyone who seemed as if they could need one, or anyone who asked.

There were ten of them in his arms, varying colors. All of them were hooded, and about medium-length. They would be large on a child and a little short on someone taller like him, but they would do either way. So even with the occasional cough and sniffle, or the stop to sneeze (not into the cloaks, thankfully) every now and then, perhaps it was worth the risk of being sick for a chance to get a little warmer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I can make basic things and mend...I can't do anything elaborate. My skills are... *Oh, there's that sneeze. He just barely turns his head to the side in time.* ...more trained for function than form.

Quite useful then. [ Hidetoshi decided to chance stepping away from the wall, since he could... swear he was hearing the faint rumbling noises of metal creaking and quaking behind it, a muffled threat of collapse. Almost immediately he stumbled and backed up to the wall again. Ugh, what was that unpleasantly unsteady sensation he kept feeling?

His head ached. ] Function is more important than strict correctness, I imagine, by now. [ He sneezed into the crook of his elbow. ]

*Enoch nodded, only slightly for his head's awkward-seeming weight.* By now it's best to stay covered...it doesn't matter what with.

[ He pressed the palm of one of his hands against the wall, to reassure himself it was still solid, wasn't crumpling. His ears had been affected by the headache perhaps? But... He inhaled, voice tired. ] Yeah, I must agree with that. I take it you've fallen ill as well?

[ It's more a sympathetic observation of the obvious than anything, considering Enoch is coughing and sneezing and displaying all the signs of being as sickened as Hidetoshi himself was, if not worse. ]

*Another almost-nod, before he realized it was probably better to just speak.* Yes. It's...been a very long time since I have.

[ He slid his fingers across the wall until he brought them into a loose fist, and exhaled. He pondered that for a moment before asking; ] Hm. Are... you another one of those with superhuman capabilities in this Tower? Or were you simply remarkably resistant to catching a sickness before this?

*There's a notable hesitance before he answers.*

...Yes. I'm not sure why failing to fall ill would come with immortality, but...it seems that's not the extend of my resilience anyway.

[It says a lot that Hidetoshi is less surprised by Enoch confirming he's been bestowed with supernatural powers e.i. immortality than the alternative by now.]

I... imagine it wouldn't 'count' as immortality if you were capable of dying from illness. [Given hat immortality was probably not invulnerability, he was capable of getting sick though. Of course, that could just the admins' hand at work again. His headache throbbed behind his temples again.] I see.

I can still die, I'm sure. *Or if he can't, he doesn't want to know. It's not like Lucifel wouldn't find a way to prevent him from committing suicide every time.* I wouldn't need a guardian if I couldn't...

*A slight attempt at forcing a cough out before it itches his throat too much. It's too weak and just ends up a huff.*

...I simply cannot age.

[ That's odd, the bit about the guardian and his surety of being still able to die, but it's really none of his business. He sniffs, and resists the urge to wipe his nose on his uniform's sleeve. ]

... Huh. In my world, you would be the focus of many peoples' greatest envy, to not age.

[ The commercials, the ads, the perfumes, the wigs, the make-up, the hair-dye, a thousand little ways people attempted to disguise the passage of time. One of society's more common fears; of growing old and ugly, of your body beginning the process of failing you, and your memories betraying you, and your hands start trembling. Something you couldn't outrun, no matter how successful or rich you were.

Hidetoshi sneezes, a harsh noise muffled into the crook of his elbow once again. ]

*Because he couldn't imagine being immortal that way. It was simply too unnatural. Not to mention, he'd be in no danger. It didn't make sense.*

I know. Mine too. They envy because they don't understand.

[ ... Yeah, a lot of fantasy novels ~~that he only read for literature classes and to get GOOD GRADES~~ often lamented the problems that came with something as seemingly glamorous as immortality and eternal youth. Whee, all those deconstruction tropes in modern fiction! ]

Understand... what, to be precise?

[ Still he's curious about the older man perceives his unaging state to be like, flu or no flu. ]

What it is, what hiding it entails. Inevitably leaving or being left...

Immortal life among mortals is nothing but pain, and what reprieve it grants is all too short, every time.

[ He considers that. Grimaces sadly; ]

Yes, that... does not sound to be a desirable lifestyle at all.

Have you grown tired of it then? Of your immortality?

*Tired of it...? There's another unthinking sniffle as he thinks. Is he tired of immortality? Tired of living? Does he want to die?

...No. Death would mean leaving behind the immortals in his life just like mortals left him. He couldn't bear to put someone else through that pain. It was really the loss that hurt, wasn't it?*

No. Only of living with mortals. ...But with this place, and Meridian before it, it seems I have my wish.

*A tired, strained little smile that doesn't look all that happy. A granted wish in a place like this...*

Indeed, in this place, death—

[—he can't agree that dying doesn't matter if you were revived afterward. Death was death. Suffocation is still suffocation even if his ribs were no longer crushed even if he wasn't trapped that bottomless pit of fear that dying had inspired in him, him who was nothing more than a mere human. He hacks out a short series of wet coughs, careful to not sneeze in Enoch's direction.]

—is temporary, right? So, I think... it's a rather twisted way of having that wish granted.

[He contemplates asking about "Meridian" before again deciding against it. He wouldn't pry. The older man seems to weighted down; no need to risk opening old sores.]

*Enoch certainly would agree. Dying was still incredibly unpleasant, and not something he wanted to experience - he'd only thrown his life away once in this place, for something he was desperate enough to try to learn.*

...Indeed. Some of us age, Ruana said, but...she never did answer when I asked if they would die from it.

*The place seemed odd, out of time and yet with aging going on...

...then again, would they have aged in Meridian either? He would have to ask Sola when he encountered her again.*

The weather's annoying, isn't it?

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