I was left to my own devices; many days fell away with nothing to show

[provenworth]

Characters: Elena and YOU
Setting: February 7th – Various Locations [See Prompts]
Format: Action but will match yours
Summary: Elena is running a few errands and meeting up with Dia to discuss a sensitive situation.
Warning: Possible language, who knows?

[Floor 19 | Research Library | Early morning]

[Despite the few bits and pieces of information that Elena has been able to understand and align to their current situation, she’s not been making much progress with the books she’s been working her way through. It was frustrating, the technical details of each of the books extensive and surpassing her own levels of education and training. But, despite the long hours reading and attempting to find something that could be utilized to better their situation, she wasn’t even close to giving up.

Down in the research library, Elena has started a new collection of various books, building a small pile at the end of an empty table. Standing between a pair of bookshelves, she’s holding one massively large book in her arms, head downturned to read through the finely printed text. The only sound that comes from where she’s standing is the shifting of paper as each page is slowly turned.]


[Floor 22 | Art Gallery | Closed to Diarmuid | Noon]

[It wasn’t easy finding Diarmuid’s room, taking her nearly half an hour scouring the numerous levels until she finally found it. The folded note she’d written him was tucked beneath the door for him to find later, the instructions easy enough to understand.

Dia, Need to talk to you. 22nd Floor @ noon - Elena

[And so, after completing her quick stop to the research library, Elena makes her way to the art gallery. It’d been some time since she’s been there, chased out by horrifying paintings of Gaia and Northern Cavern. So she’s not going too far into the gallery, instead staying close to the doorway in case she’d in need of a hasty retreat.]


[Floor 14 | Media Room | Dusk]

[Music can be heard coming from this floor, various melodies can be hear, the volume low to sooth the figure inside listening to it. Seated quietly in a chair to herself is Elena, her left hand resting in her lap and her right upright, elbow on the arm of her chair. Fingers curl into a loose fist and support her chin as she listens, looking almost as if she were asleep. Be careful in your approach, though, Elena is very much awake and beneath her recently acquired leather coat - carefully crafted by a particular red-head - is her firearm.]

Comments

14

[warriorscribe]

*He wakes at the touch, coughing on his next breath. He's awake, but not necessarily alert, looking up at Elena sluggishly as he tries to recall where he was before he slipped into nothingness.

A coughing fit prevents that, but at least he has the decency to turn away from her as he starts coughing into the back of his arm. When it subsides, he clears his throat and croaks out a response.*

I'm not used to being ill...sorry to worry you.

[provenworth]

[Now that was an expression she's seen before, just not in some time. Illness. Exhaustion. Fatigue. His coughing earns a concerned frown and a hand against his forehead to feel for a fever.]

I'm not used to seeing anybody physically ill here. [Mentally, though, she's seen plenty of.] How did you come to sneak in and fall asleep here so quietly?

[warriorscribe]

*It's his fault, really. Going to the beach level in weather like this without any extra clothes and no angelic constitution to help him? He's lucky it's just a very bad cold - no fever, but it's compounding the exhaustion from having his energy drained.*

I didn't. I was here before you, but the expanse we all visited...it sometimes takes us back.

*He might sound more concerned about that if he wasn't feeling so miserable anyway. He's really not used to being sick. And he's a little irritated as he realizes that he doesn't need to get sick in the first place, because there are no true natural processes in this tower! It's only as real as the weather.*

[provenworth]

....Damn Tower mechanics...

[At least, that's what she's assuming he meant. It didn't matter so much, but the part that did was his current state. On the upside, at least there isn't a fever. But he was still sick and needing immediate attention.

Which is why she's up on her feet before squatting down next to him, offering a hand.]

Lets get you up off that floor and onto something more comfortable. We need to get you healthier before the next incident happens.

[warriorscribe]

*Enoch takes the offered hand, trying to steady himself on the chair as he gets up, as well. All that muscle weighs a lot; he doesn't want to pull her down instead.*

I...don't mean to be trouble...

*He feels like he's really acting pathetic at the moment. All those centuries without illness have rendered him unprepared for experiencing it again, even with Jason's flu the previous year.*

[provenworth]

[Despite her small stature, Elena has enough strength to help pull him up, though the man is rather heavy. But that doesn't stop her from all but pulling one of his arms around her shoulders and guiding him to the couch.]

Its no trouble at all. [And here she's giving a little smile.] Besides, it lets me return the kindness you've shown me in the past.

[warriorscribe]

*Enoch sinks down onto the couch, looking as if he might fall asleep again but is trying to stay awake to remain polite. Also because he has no idea what time it is now.

Besides that, her words give him some pause, as he tries to think about it, in his muddled state. Did she mean catching her up when she returned?*

I was only doing what anyone ought.

[provenworth]

Perhaps. But you were one of the first who I came across in my first day and gave me important information.

[Contented that now the man was sitting, Elena stood over him, giving the man another once over.]

Besides, what sort of person would I be to leave a sick man alone without trying to help. Do you require anything specific or would hot tea help?

[warriorscribe]

*It was an odd feeling, being cared for. He was usually the one fussing over other people like this.*

...I think hot tea would be fine.

[provenworth]

[And Elena enjoys being able to actually fuss over people - if they would even allow it.]

Hot tea it is, then. You make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back.

[There's no fighting this, Enoch. She's already left to get the tea.]

[warriorscribe]

*He'll do his best to make himself comfortable, tired and sick as he is. He just hopes night doesn't catch up with them. He couldn't possibly handle monsters like this.*

[provenworth]

[Its only a matter of minutes before Elena returns with a steaming cup of tea in hand. The contents were still steeping, coloring the water. Finding him on the couch earns a little smile, extending the drink towards him.]

I didn't know how you liked your tea so.. [And she's pulling some packets of sugar from her jacket.] Sugar?

[warriorscribe]

*He takes the tea carefully, taking a moment to breathe in the vapors. The scent (or the feeling of the scent in the roof of his mouth; he was only able to actually smell a little bit at the moment) was so relaxing, soothing in his current state. It distracts him for a moment, so he doesn't immediately respond to the offer of sugar, looking up suddenly when he realizes she'd spoken.*

Ah...no, thank you. It's fine as it is. *He smiles a little.* Thank you for going to the trouble.

[provenworth]

Its no trouble at all. I rather like having the distraction, though I'm sorry it has to be at your misfortune.

[Pulling a nearby chair over, she motions for him to make himself comfortable on the couch, setting herself up as sentinel.]

You can relax, I will watch for any trouble. In the meantime, if you don't mind, I'd like to hear a little more about who you are. We've crossed paths, but not had the chance to have more formal introductions.

[warriorscribe]

More about me...

*He coughs, wets and soothes his throat with a sip of tea.*

...I've been alive for a long time. Where should I start?

[provenworth]

[There's nothing but a small, interested smile.]

The beginning is where most people start, though I'll leave it to you to start where you please.

[warriorscribe]

The beginning. *He closes his eyes to think. It's a struggle not to fall asleep again, between the sickness and the soul-drain. He doesn't think anything of sharing his story, in his state. Not that he wouldn't share if asked in this place, but there are far less reservations about it; he's far too tired to consider when or if he's talking too much or gone on a tangent.*

...I suppose I should begin by telling you I am older than any man has any right to be. Three hundred and thirty...six, I think. I've stopped counting, exactly. *His eyes crack open, and he takes another sip of tea.* Long ago, I was taken up to Heaven to serve as a scribe.

[provenworth]

[Elena is a quiet, curious statue in her seat, eyes going to the entryway every few moments to ensure that there was no monster lurking the halls. When he does begin to speak, her attention returns to him immediately, and then widen at the sudden revelation.]

.....You're....336 years old? [Sorry if she's got a big of a gaping mouth, Enoch, but that's hella old.] Would you be offended if I said you didn't look a day over 28?

What is this place called Heaven?

[warriorscribe]

*Enoch laughs weakly and shakes his head. He doesn't seem bothered by her reaction at all.* I'm not offended...that's the idea of it...I'm immortal, blessed by God. Heaven...is His kingdom, where He and His angels watch over Earth, and ensure humanity is safe from harm and interference.

*Another sip of tea before he continues.* Normally, the only way for a human to go to Heaven is to die. The souls of the dead ascend to keep them safe.