***Dr. Arthur Fleming 💉October Post hype (First LoE Game)***
CW/TW: Alcohol, Themes of death, loss, guilt, blood
~The sun stung Arthur’s sleepless eyes as dawn rose on Sunday. Rubbing away the piercing light he stood and immediately fell face first onto the floor. Groaning he took stock of the bottles of wine that littered the ground near his bed. Two...four...eight...he gave up counting at that point, his stomach grumbling its distate for maths. As gently as he could Arthur moved the detritus of his grieving so that he could stand...or rather sit up.
~Having righted himself Arthur peered around the cabin to assess the extent of his potential embarrassment. Happily he had not woken any of the other occupants with his clumsiness. He had seen them all come in during the night, his candles burning to stubs as he threw himself in research and regret.
~His head spun slightly as he recalled the events from only a few hours prior. His stomach churned from guilt and wine and his hands ached from drunken theories written about blood and manticores and innoculation... Arthur looked at the black notebook and flipped through a few pages until he found what he had written in his haze of self hatred and distraction. The notes were long, rambling things that he had thiugbt about whilst sober but dared not think too hard on. However the ideas were sound.
~Arthur dragged himseld to his feet and with the haste if a slug gathered his toiletries and went about his morning ablutions. His mind slowly winding down from thoughts of transfusions and blood disease cures, Baph’s lifeless face flashed before his eyes.
~The tears finally burst from him silent and swift. Guilt ounched him straight in the gut and brought him to his needs, sobbing softly on the floor of the bathing room. Gods be damned the contest wasn’t meant to end that way. It was supposed to just be a fair duel, not a fight to the death. Baph wasn’t meant to be taken forever. Dammit, Arthur had been in this hellscape for less than a week and he had gotten a friend killed. His soul eaten by Alabaster. Arthur gritted his teeth as shame swung its blade across his forehead. He should have kept his mouth shut, his kid brother the bsrd was the one with the poor choices gene not him.
~Arthur allowed himself to cry until his eyes were empty of tears and his head went cloudy. Wiping his eyes he slowly stood and went back to his cabin. Glancing at his notebook he smiled sadly...Baph had loved his ideas and “blood science” as it was not so jokingly referred to. Perhaps to honor him he would continue his research. Find ways to make everyone their best self in every possible way. His smile grew wide as he lowered himself into bed. He already had a few samples from the townsfolk...only a few more and he could truly begin his experiments and begin making true medical progress.
~Drifting to sleep with these thoughts Arthur dreamt of potions, vials of blood and venom, and myriad other such things. Hours later around sunset, a joyful exclamation ranf across the main square of High Town. Arthur had awoken with a newfound vigor and had found a most promising fact in one of his medical books. Progress was about to be made and in great strides at that!