This would, of course, lead to exhaustion rising to claim its toll. Perhaps even fast enough to not be truly worried that an immediate response was not forthcoming.
Perhaps.
Recent events with the machinations of the Evergreen Circle have utterly taxed the caregivers, witches, and aides of the Coven. So when Elidibus, looking every bit the altruistic type of person who would volunteer and also has more than two brain cells to rub together, is not devastated by brainwashing, grief, guilt, remorse, or all of the above, he doesn't even have to try to convince someone to let him help. They practically fling a smock and a volunteer armband at him.
He does, however, have to do a little work to find out the location of his fellow Ascian and current bed partner and after that, it's just a matter of stopping another volunteer, readily convincing her that he can handle this particular room since the occupants are friends and he'd like a chance to check on them. She looks at him like he's her savior, which is something of a surprise until she explains what the cause for her relief is.
Ah. Yes, that puts matters into perspective. Nevertheless, he grins and chuckles and nods his understanding, accepts the tools she'd been carrying to the room, and lets her escape. Elidibus steps into the room and closes the door firmly and silently behind him before letting the act of emotions drain away from his features.
Mostly. There is something there. The uninitiated might have called the furrowed brow a mannerism brought on by 'disappointment'. But those who have dealt with the Emissary over countless millennia may be able to read deeper than that superficial assumption. Distant as it may appear to be, this is what concern might look like, were concern a creature newly born into the world and not yet sure of its purpose.
Never fear. It will be hiding deep in the recesses of Elidibus's psyche by the time Emet-Selch awakens and risks bringing it to the Emissary's attention, thus ending its short life.
Elidibus takes a moment to look over the patients which have been left in his care. One is his primary concern of course, but given they are likely to be tangled around each other by this point- it's what Bonded do, or so he learned- he'll have to deal with that matter.
What had sent the other volunteer scurrying was a concern over the Puca which, perhaps understandably so, was very protective of Emet-Selch currently. Doctors and aides had already gotten a few broken bones trying to get too close after Mettaton had gained some stamina back. While the volunteer had protection and been sent because she could be gentle and convincing and was going to back out of the room again if things went south quickly, she had definitely been glad it was Elidibus taking the risk, not her.
But it appears even machines run out of energy. Or... whatever the Puca is currently anyway. The entry did not stir Mettaton and drawing closer to Emet-Selch's side of the bed brought no ire. Hmm. Elidibus draws the smallest denomination of cune from his belt ouch and sends it into a nearby wall. He watches for any signs of motion, any twitch of a long ear.
Nothing. Excellent.
Carefully, since he really doesn't intend to awaken either one at first, Elidibus draws back the blankets to expose Emet-Selch's upper torso. Bandages are immediately noticed, as they cover a great deal of flesh. But so too is the smear of blood and gunk everywhere, thanks to Mettaton's presence; it seems the doctors were confused about whether they could use water around the machine? Or maybe the Puca had woken up about that point and made it a moot issue with his bad behavior. Elidibus sighs.
Which brings the matter around to the items he brought in. A basin, a pitcher of steaming water. Plenty of clean cloth. It's true, the Emissary wasn't sure at first if he was going to go so far as to use the tools he'd been given. He'd hoped to talk to his fellow Unsundered about the contents of the message. But if more sleep was needed to recover, then Elidibus wouldn't sit idle. He could begin with an examination of the condition Emet-Selch's host is in.
And to do that, he was going to have to wash away the grime. Maybe change those bandages. Untangle Mettaton. Wash... Mettaton? Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
Pulling over the room's only seat- a stool at a good height to examine (or bathe) patients- Elidibus leans over Emet-Selch. Though the warm, damp towel drops to rest on a patch of flesh around the neck and left shoulder area, the Emissary does take the time to try and carefully pry open the eyelid of what was, at least reckoning, the non-functioning eye. Still nonfunctioning? The right arm is... well, let's save that for later, as he would need to contend with moving Mettaton to get a better look at that.
The check is over quickly enough. Which leaves us with an opening that goes something like this.
When Emet-Selch wakes up, he finds Elidibus- one hopes it's Elidibus and not suddenly the real Ardbert- giving him a sponge bath.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Not a Text. Ominous.
Date: 18 Feb 2021 01:03 (UTC)This would, of course, lead to exhaustion rising to claim its toll. Perhaps even fast enough to not be truly worried that an immediate response was not forthcoming.
Perhaps.
Recent events with the machinations of the Evergreen Circle have utterly taxed the caregivers, witches, and aides of the Coven. So when Elidibus, looking every bit the altruistic type of person who would volunteer and also has more than two brain cells to rub together, is not devastated by brainwashing, grief, guilt, remorse, or all of the above, he doesn't even have to try to convince someone to let him help. They practically fling a smock and a volunteer armband at him.
He does, however, have to do a little work to find out the location of his fellow Ascian and current bed partner and after that, it's just a matter of stopping another volunteer, readily convincing her that he can handle this particular room since the occupants are friends and he'd like a chance to check on them. She looks at him like he's her savior, which is something of a surprise until she explains what the cause for her relief is.
Ah. Yes, that puts matters into perspective. Nevertheless, he grins and chuckles and nods his understanding, accepts the tools she'd been carrying to the room, and lets her escape. Elidibus steps into the room and closes the door firmly and silently behind him before letting the act of emotions drain away from his features.
Mostly. There is something there. The uninitiated might have called the furrowed brow a mannerism brought on by 'disappointment'. But those who have dealt with the Emissary over countless millennia may be able to read deeper than that superficial assumption. Distant as it may appear to be, this is what concern might look like, were concern a creature newly born into the world and not yet sure of its purpose.
Never fear. It will be hiding deep in the recesses of Elidibus's psyche by the time Emet-Selch awakens and risks bringing it to the Emissary's attention, thus ending its short life.
Elidibus takes a moment to look over the patients which have been left in his care. One is his primary concern of course, but given they are likely to be tangled around each other by this point- it's what Bonded do, or so he learned- he'll have to deal with that matter.
What had sent the other volunteer scurrying was a concern over the Puca which, perhaps understandably so, was very protective of Emet-Selch currently. Doctors and aides had already gotten a few broken bones trying to get too close after Mettaton had gained some stamina back. While the volunteer had protection and been sent because she could be gentle and convincing and was going to back out of the room again if things went south quickly, she had definitely been glad it was Elidibus taking the risk, not her.
But it appears even machines run out of energy. Or... whatever the Puca is currently anyway. The entry did not stir Mettaton and drawing closer to Emet-Selch's side of the bed brought no ire. Hmm. Elidibus draws the smallest denomination of cune from his belt ouch and sends it into a nearby wall. He watches for any signs of motion, any twitch of a long ear.
Nothing. Excellent.
Carefully, since he really doesn't intend to awaken either one at first, Elidibus draws back the blankets to expose Emet-Selch's upper torso. Bandages are immediately noticed, as they cover a great deal of flesh. But so too is the smear of blood and gunk everywhere, thanks to Mettaton's presence; it seems the doctors were confused about whether they could use water around the machine? Or maybe the Puca had woken up about that point and made it a moot issue with his bad behavior. Elidibus sighs.
Which brings the matter around to the items he brought in. A basin, a pitcher of steaming water. Plenty of clean cloth. It's true, the Emissary wasn't sure at first if he was going to go so far as to use the tools he'd been given. He'd hoped to talk to his fellow Unsundered about the contents of the message. But if more sleep was needed to recover, then Elidibus wouldn't sit idle. He could begin with an examination of the condition Emet-Selch's host is in.
And to do that, he was going to have to wash away the grime. Maybe change those bandages. Untangle Mettaton. Wash... Mettaton? Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
Pulling over the room's only seat- a stool at a good height to examine (or bathe) patients- Elidibus leans over Emet-Selch. Though the warm, damp towel drops to rest on a patch of flesh around the neck and left shoulder area, the Emissary does take the time to try and carefully pry open the eyelid of what was, at least reckoning, the non-functioning eye. Still nonfunctioning? The right arm is... well, let's save that for later, as he would need to contend with moving Mettaton to get a better look at that.
The check is over quickly enough. Which leaves us with an opening that goes something like this.
When Emet-Selch wakes up, he finds Elidibus- one hopes it's Elidibus and not suddenly the real Ardbert- giving him a sponge bath.