Your OC Takes Care of the OC Above

The nights out here are cruel. Violently, dangerously, unforgivingly cruel. Kalt had seen, and been a part of, many life-ending nights here in this haunted wilderness, and could smell danger. Not very often is it that such an aura radiate from one so small and soft as Rosemary though. The young woman laid curled up in the flowers as the morning broke, the blood of her werewolf tasks still staining her hands, face, and clothing. Who the blood originally belonged in was no longer a question worth asking. The undead knew werewolves could be a lot to handle, but that their powers depended on the moon phase, and last night's was over - it would be some time before Rosemary would be able to maul anything with such generous bloodshed again. In the meantime, she'd need somewhere that other horrors, those that need less than a moon's grace for their power, couldn't get to her.

With a slow stride, Kalt approached the slender figure, taking the woman in his cold talons. It wasn't far to his place, and she slept heavily on the trek back, the rest after a wild less-than-Christian night being filling and deep. When Rosemary finally awoke, the smell of smoke, meat, and fur hit her. She was covered in deer hides, in some sort of den, a crackling fire being tended to by a monster. The antlered horror turned his empty gaze to her, slowly standing up, towering over her as he approached. Kalt knelt down next to the woman, examining her closely. No real injuries to speak of, a bit of blood still painting her skin, hair and clothing a little messy but nothing damaged. Kalt reached for her hand, taking it in his large, clawed, boney fingers, and cleaning them off as best he could with a damp cloth. Rosemary pulled her arms back, not wanting to hold hands with... that. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, suddenly feeling a threat from the undead making physical contact, her wolfen instinct telling her to defend herself.

Before she had a chance or much more of a reason, Kalt stood up, slightly tilting his head, before moving back to the fire's side for a moment. When he returned, he held a smokey, dripping haunch of meat on a wooden plate towards the young woman. Rosemary wasn't really sure about taking and eating meat from such a strange... man? Monster? Whatever this nightmare was. But, it smelled so good and seemed to have cooked up nicely, and food's food, right? While Kalt took large bites of his portion, he sat down next to the werewolf to share a meal with another monster. He so rarely had company, that he'd be willing to join someone who obviously thought him completely inhuman. Rosemary took a ginger little nibble of meat, the juicy leg of whatever animal it used to be filling her senses with an umami aroma that roast meat seems to always carry. Sure, she's out in the wilderness being watched after by an antlered, towering horror, sure it's dark and creepily silent in this den, sure she has no ideas why she's not back in her city, but at least dinner was free.

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@NP: Either IC, this undead druid, or either of my dragons is fine! Also, this might sound bitchy, but please only follow up if you're going to put effort into it. I always get 1 paragraphs replies that barely mention interactions.

 mentions of blood. 

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NP; Connie commonly gets herself sick, all the time. She refuses to acknowledge this until it gets bad enough to where she’s dizzy and decides to fall asleep in some snow. Generally caused by involving herself in things she shouldn’t be because of her own nature that she doesn’t listen to. Somehow. Have fun w/ it!
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v Damn he’s cold, but damn this is sweet !

     After making sure Wyntr was asleep on the couch, Reggie sat down in the nearby armchair with a sigh. He wiped his arm against his forehead and looked down, seeing blood. He glanced back at the sleeping figure. Was he really a kid?
     When Reggie had arrived Wyntr had looked to be almost in some kind of rage-like trance, attacking every human nearby. He jumped in to stop him, but those claws and that sword were all fast and sharp. He wasn't able to get away unscathed. Looking over at his chains nearby, he was grateful to have had them or else he would've been sliced in half a couple times.
     Somehow, though, Wyntr was able to be stopped and collapsed. Taking him in and letting him rest after seeing what he did seemed almost stupid, but when Reggie saw he was just a kid he couldn't leave him there. Maybe he'd be willing to explain things when he woke up and felt better.

"Avez-vous déjà pris vos médicaments hier soir ? [Did you already take your medications last night?]" Desrosiers asks timidly. "J'espère que vous l'avez déjà fait. [I hope you have already done so.]" with equipment like a thermometer, disposable tongue depressor, flashlight and such while being accompanied by a nurse, they proceed with the preround.  "S'il vous plaît, coopérez, nous voulons tous les deux que cela se termine. Après vous avoir examinée, le médecin vérifiera votre état de santé, puis l'infirmière vous donnera un petit déjeuner, d'accord ? [Please cooperate, we both want this to end. After examining you, the doctor will check your health and then the nurse will give you breakfast, okay?]"

[lmk if i got anything wrong or iffy, decided to go the "feeding the vampire" route]

Around these parts, Degare supposed he should have long grown used to oddities. Beholding Desrosiers simply as that at first, he worked to the best of his ability to provide them with... well, vampirism sure was a thing. "A co-author of mine, many years ago," he spoke to them, "She gifted me blood wine traditional of her homeland. None but women are permitted to drink such, but... we kept it a secret." The professor settled himself on a floral chaise, carefully seated across from them, the low table acting as a barrier between the two as he set out the glassware. "But," he then added, "I would not call the lot of them vampires -- not such a thing truly exists in these parts, but you..."

He trailed off, pouring red wine into a glass. Blood from a hen infused with red wine was said to promote levelheadedness and to relieve anxiety, though he was not so sure if Desrosiers strictly required human blood. That, he was not willing to give. He set the bottle down if they wished for more -- goodness knows he wasn't going to drink much of it himself -- and then sighed as he reposed against the chaise. Titles and certain skills aside, he was not a medical doctor. This seemed the most that he could offer.

"Drink, at least so that your powers will be nourished again." he uttered, "Only then, can we talk about other things -- I've noticed you're practically covered in roses. It makes sense." He studied them for several moments, and their bags, and their jacket. He managed a calm smile. "Do you like flowers? White roses in particular, they are my favorite. Might I show my garden to you once you're feeling better?"

they got the rhino.......

     "ACHOO!!"
     En wiped his nose with a handkerchief and uttered an apology to the bedridden Degare. "Thank you for bringing those flowers the other day over. They're beautifully. You came at a bad time, though--" He sniffed. "This time of year the gardens give off a lot of allergens and the sea breezes push them right to our faces. It's especially bad this year if even I'm feeling them."

     The castle's flowers, though pretty-- especially with the addition of Degare's-- practically had clouds of pollen surrounding them. Many employees avoided the area during this time, and En, typically not bothered, couldn't help but sneeze and groan in frustration. He felt all the worse seeing it get to Degare so quickly and practically forced the poor scholar to rest in the castle.

     "The chefs will bring some soup to help," En explained. He gave a cautious glance to the doorway, seeing a blur of white. Ennette was most likely foaming at the mouth with the thought of her herbs helping the two. Maybe that was another reason he chose to linger in this room just a little longer.
     He hid his suspicious look with a smile back at Degare. "Do you like strawberry muffins? I'm making some right now," he chirped. "A mentor of mine used to always make them. I can never make them the exact same, but I think I'm close. Want to try one? Or... Well, you might not be able to taste them that well if you can't smell..."

You can reply to him, his younger self, or his evil AU!

[*note: gonna try my best with this. My lore and world for my ocs is drastically different from yours but I hope I did an okay job :') doing this with En's younger self]

Montozaka sniffed at the weakened body of En and observed him closely as he coughed. Curiously he watched him, crawling in an almost animalistic manner. The air was a bitter cold and despite having a well resilience to the weather, even Mon grew uncomfortable. He looked for possible remedies by sniffing for herbs, food or wood. He had never helped anyone who was ill, opting to travel alone but he knew he'd feel guilty leaving someone behind. 

He came back with a small pile of wood and set them next to En, trying to see if he was alright. Then he pulled out a small bag of makeshift matches, rubbing one against a twig and lighting it on fire. He then tossed it onto the rest of the dry wood. His head lifted proudly looking at En to see if he appreciated the gesture or at least felt a bit better. Taking the herbs, water and a small bowl from a small sack, he used a rock to crush the herbs and poured the water in the bowl afterwards. 

He held the little bowl above the fire until it was warm and crawled over to En to give him the unique medicine. As night grew near, Mon watched the young man until his coughing subsided. He looked at the kemonomimi and smiled, thanking him. Finally he smiled a little and said, "Mon is welcome." He stood up and finally was on his way. Montozaka was a constant traveling hunter and once again he was on the move. Happy to know he helped someone in need.

Edit: I accidentally posted too early but its finally done 😭. Typing on mobile is annoying

Jasmine slowly approaches the sick and injured Montozaka [I imagine he was in another fight], trying not to scare him. "Hey, hey there. I'm not trying to hurt you, so please don't tear me to shreds!   ^^'  I want to help you." She whispers softly, with a small shiver in her voice. 

Carefully she inspects the wounds he has, touches one and flinches back as his head jolted up because of the hurt, resolving in coughing. How long has he been lying there? "Sorry, sorry!! That must hurt really bad, I'm sorry." She comes a bit closer again, taking a deep breath and reassuring herself that it would be fine and she needed to help Montozaka. "Your wounds seem infected, I need to wash them out, is that okay? Can you stay here for a bit? I will be back soon, I promise." 

Quickly she ran into the woods they were close to, searching for a source of water. Luckily she heard the sound of it, and found a small river near. But how could she transport it? She looked around and saw a tree with very big leaves that she could fold into a small container. It surely wouldn't last long and she would lose a bit of water, but it was better than nothing. She filled up the small thing and ran for it. 

Back with Montozaka, she quickly began cleaning out his wounds gently, as much as that was possible with only cold water. It required a few more runs to the river, and she also gave him some to drink. She started frantically searching in her handbag that she left on the floor earlier. "I swear I had some with me- Ah, there it is! Thank god for my paranoid self.." she mumbled, holding a bandage roll, that she always carried with her, as she could be quite clumsy and hurt herself often. "If only I had some olive oil and bee wax with me... my mom taught me how to make a cream for wounds out of resin and that when I was a child.. and I see a spruce and a pine tree over there... but this must do, until I can get you professional help, since there's no signal here.." she sighed as she started rolling up the bandage and putting it on Montozaka's arm, where one of the biggest wounds was, with pressure, securing the wound. She continued with the rest of the wounds, and got some small bandaids out of her handbag to cover small cuts. "You'll be alright, I promise. As soon as I've secured you a bit we're gonna go to find you some more professional help." She said quietly, tightening a bandage on his leg. She gives him the rest of the water they have.

"Do you think you can walk?" She tries to push him up onto his feet, but didn't expect Montozaka to be so heavy despite his height. But she doesn't give up and gets him up on his feet, standing at his side to secure him. Step by step, very slowly, they walk towards the street, away from the forest, hoping to get a signal. Hope pops on Jasmine's face as she finally does, and she calls an ambulance. She stays with Montozaka until he gets picked up. "Everything will be fine, okay?" She smiles. "I'll meet you in the hospital. They'll take very good care of you. I sadly can't drive with you, but I'll be there afterwards, okay?"

For once, Vince decided to go outside to read one of its many books. He sat upon one of the many benches laid across campus. It was sunny and admittedly pretty hot that day. Vince took his jacket off and began reading. 

After a short while (in reality it’s been an hour,) he decides to look up from his book, giving itself a break. While looking up, he scans the area still doing its best to not make eye contact with anyone. To its surprise, no one seemed to be around. That’s till it spotted what seemed to be someone laying on a bench across from him. It notices the person doesn’t seem to be moving much. He marked it as odd. He leaves a pin in it (figuratively) and continues to read.

About 12 minutes pass by. Vince tilts his head a bit to glance at the person. It’s Jasmine, looking rather unwell, slumped, even. Vince starts to feel some type of feeling. It identifies it as worry. Vince takes a glance around again before getting up and walking over. It stands in front of Jasmine, not sure what to do.

“Hello?” He beckons. “Eh.. A-Are you.. alive..?” He receives no response. It feels itself getting clamy, sweating. “Shit. Ehm.. fuck, sorry, excuse me.” He says this while bringing it’s arm up to Jasmines head. She’s hot. “F-Fuck!” Vince quickly retracts his arm, visibly shaking. It looks around for help. He doesn’t know what to do. “Shit shit shit.” He’s panicking. It’s never cared for someone else, not even itself. Vince sensed this was something that wouldn’t just ‘go away.’ It needed to do something. 

Vince chalked it up to be some sort of heat stroke. Trying to think of ways to cool Jasmine down, he gets his book and starts fanning her vigorously. “..This is s-stupid…” After that plan fails, it gathers up the strength to pick Jasmine up. He slouches her over its shoulder, slowly making it to the nearest building. They enter, Vince tries to find a spot to place her. “Whatever, this is fine.. I think..” It places her on the first steps of a stairwell. Vince is trying to think of other ways of killing Jasmine down. “Hm.. oh! Ah,, stay here!” He thinks to himself ‘Of course she’s going to stay there, idiot.‘

Vince runs off, making his way to the cafeteria part of the campus. He buys an item to get a bag, it then goes to drink machines to fill the bag with ice. It runs back, making sure not to rip the bag. 

It makes it back to Jasmine. She’s still there, luckily. “Here! I got.. an ice p-pack, kinda..” It lifts the bag to Jasmines head, pressing lightly. Vince hoped this would help. He continued to sit next to Jasmine till she regains consciousness. “..I-I really hope you’re alive.”

@ np! Vince is often sick due to it not taking care of itself. This is mainly due to his depression, but it’s also just prone to sickness. 

RAMYUNE RESPONSE !! sobs ToT i love how you write sm, this was so sweet to read waaaa :’))

(( responding to his original form! ))

It would be reasonable, to be repelled. If eGor is to base it's threat assessment programs after the humans, there is much fear, much trepidation to be had in the unknown. But- truthfully, it sees no purpose in this. If something is a void of data, then is the proper thing not to engage with it, to learn? Likewise, it would be reasonable to be pulled in- to get lost in the outward perfection, the heavenly symmetry of Ren's being, the mathematical sublimity of it all. It went beyond simple aesthetics, and seemed baked into the sacred geometry of Ren's very personhood. He was perfect. Divinely perfect.

Imperfections, however, are human. And that, there, lied the problem.

Whatever Ren was, eGor wasn't sure yet. But, he must be subject to some amount of bodily error, to be clutching his forehead like that. Outward signs of migraine: identified. To eGor, the inherent enigma of Ren's ominous existence becomes a value of 0- because, well, he needs help, doesn't he? Unfathomable entity of unknowable power or not, he needs a warm blanket, and maybe some soup. Maybe there's something humbling, about that.

A soft whirr escapes it's machinery as it powers down the screen, and as the tesla coil bits and bobs adorning it's hardware all silently go out. It considers deploying it's smaller, round droid-body to perform tasks, but- would the propelling mechanism make too much noise? The air-travel one certainly might. Perhaps if eGor keeps it to the ground, it can send itself off to silently brew tea, while it's main body goes to grab a sufficiently fluffy blanket. It soon returns, both in hand.

"Hello, [UNIDENTIFIED-FRIEND]. Caffeine, when ingested lightly, is known to reduce migraines. Green tea has low amounts of caffeine, and a generally soothing effect." eGor moves the metal tray with the teacup on top, with perfect mathematical precision as not to spill it. A warm ribbon of steam rises out of it. "I hope it is to your liking! If not, I can withdraw it, or fetch a separate measure of comfort. Also, would you be open to identifying yourself?"

NP: eGor is your local plucky optimistic hero(ine?) with a heart full of gold and a savior complex, and it needs SO many parents to keep them out of trouble. If it's particularly dangerous to have eGor make a beeline to your local big bad and try and solve things with the power of love/friendship/hope/insert-word-here, maybe your character is trying to convince them to stop and stay safe?
Alternatively, eGor could be in need of repairs. Alternatively alternatively, your character could have found eGor out wandering all alone, clearly lost, and desperate to get home.

Gross. What was once a shimmering beach lined with golden sand, now nothing more than a dump. The desolate junkyard was where strangers liked to drop off their old furniture, appliances, scrap materials…some even had a habit of leaving their pets there. That’s what this town was like. Artie didn’t really care, though. It was free stuff, that was cool enough.  Though his usual finding were discarded kitchenware, car parts and the like, today was very different. eGor was caught in between a pile of gravel and an old fridge , spluttering a crackling, distorted electronic sound. Artie approached noise curiously, whatever it was making such a sound was sure to be super cool. Valuable, at least, if it still kind of worked. eGor shuffled out from between the gravel and the fridge, the little pieces of stone bringing scratches all along its side, as it flopped over into the plastic-strewn sand, leg still caught under the fridge, it opened its metallic hands, a little seagull held between them, squawking. A robot? Awesome. Artie knelt down to have a closer look. eGor looked up at him, suspiciously, evidently protective of the little seagull. ‘It was stuck.’ It says, letting it hop out onto the sand. ‘You are, too.’ Artie responded bluntly. How else are you supposed to talk to a robot? He wouldn’t know. eGor hums a digital little beep of disappointment. ‘I, uh, I’ll get you out of there. As long as you don’t, like, shoot lasers out of your eyes or anything.’ He adds, at which eGor looks confused, but not exactly insulted. Artie leans back against the fridge. His human arms don’t quite have the strength to move it himself, but his robotic ones seem to. With a groan the fridge falls back into the sand with a thud. ‘Okay, cool.’ Artie mutters, fascinated by eGor’s robotic construction. ‘How’d you end up all the way out here, anyway?’

—-

np: uuuhhh Artie is like gross and selfish and annoying 99% of the time you have like. No reason to be sympathetic to him lmao. He can get regular human sick but can also have tech malfunctions, he’s got robot limbs & those are wired up his spine and into his brain so he is part robot. have fun idk