[ The encounter with Alucard had turned out decently, all things considered, to the point that Fern's feeling slightly stunned in the aftermath of it. He'd dismissed himself to go find some food (actual food, not the veins of some unsuspecting victim) and she had returned to her darkened room, left to sprawl on the motel bed in utter darkness thanks to the blackout.
It isn't long before she realizes she should warn Adrian. While it's unlikely that he would react that same way she did on seeing a pale-faced man with fangs, it still seems a good idea to inform him.
She tries to write out a message for a good fifteen seconds before she gives up and simply hits the "call" button, as instructed by the merchant who sold her this device.
Ring ring— hopefully the sudden jingle from Adrian's phone isn't too much of a shock. ]
[ He absolutely drops his phone on the pavement trying to fumble it out of his pocket as it plays some sort of dreadful melody. It bounces into the street and very nearly gets run over by a car, but Adrian manages to snatch it up, holding it a bit away from his face to avoid the grime. If the other person says anything first, he doesn't hear it. His own response is cut off as he finally steps under the awning of a closed storefront to take the call. ]
— forget something about my extended warranty? I'm glad you called again, actually, I was wondering —
[ When sound comes from Fern's phone, it's a confusing cacophony — she can't quite make out what's happening, but she hears enough bangs and whooshes and other unidentifiable noises for it to be a cause for concern. ]
Adrian? Adrian, are you there?
[ When he does eventually speak up, he sounds slightly harried. He also isn't making any sense. ]
— What are you saying? [ With a frustrated grunt, she pushes up into a sit on her creaky motel bed. ] It's Fern. Can you hear me?
Oh! Lady Fern, my apologies, just a moment! [ He casts prestidigitation over his phone to clean it of grime, the incantation likely familiar to Fern by now. When he presses it to his ear, his tone is mildly concerned. ] Is everything alright? I thought I would browse the market on my way back...
[ There's no set time that either of them are meant to check-in, but they still share the same living spaces and keep tabs on one another, for better or worse. If Fern is sending — er, calling him, then it's likely something important, if not dangerous. ]
[ While Fern can make out the incantation for prestidigitation even through the phone's tinny speaker, she doesn't know why Adrian would need to be casting it right now. She decides it's better off if she simply doesn't ask.
It's late to be wandering around the market, she thinks, but she's also observed that Panorama is a city that never sleeps. Adrian can take care of himself against the typical riffraff, so she doesn't chide him. But... ]
The power has gone out here. There are no lights, so be careful when you come back. I'm not sure when it will be... fixed. [ She still only has the most basic understanding of how electricity works here.
Adrian has the ability to see in darkness, same as her, so he'll be fine. That's not actually why she was calling. ]
hello again mr wriothesleyy it is kind of you to check on me i am doing perfectlyy well so rry for the late hour i work at the pavilion clinic now are you safe did you find other work adrian [ He's still learning how T9 works sorry Wrio. ]
and you finally get a reply 6 days later....crying
It's alright. Medicine is an all hours job. I hope you're still getting enough rest in between shifts. I'm still looking but I'm sure something will turn up. Nothing strange has happened to you lately?
it is okay i have a lot of mister energy drink and it works very well :) [ This is the Victorian child they give coffee and sugar to in all of the memes. ] do you need help looking.? i am okay. nothing worth speaking of. i have been tending to patients with unusual symptoms but my magic is not strong enough to help so i am looking into it you did not answer the question. are you safe?
Safe is a strong word to use when all manners of strange things are happening. But you don't need to worry. I'm safe right now. I've got someone helping me with the source of my problems.
[ 'helping' might also be a strong word but eh... ]
( when marc's marc again, he's aware he ought to reach out to people — friends — but he doesn't. the expectation of questions, the thought of having to pull together an explanation — honesty? maybe, it'd be simplest but that doesn't mean it's easiest, despite the fact that it's never backfired on him to date (well, not recently—), despite his expectations — is unwelcome and unpleasant.
it's that combined with lingering frustration (embarrassment by any other name) that means the delay is longer than strictly necessary. he'd wondered, briefly, if he could get away with ignoring the entire situation, the meteors and the feelings and the jake and the steven of it all, before reaching the conclusion that no, probably not—.
(or more specifically, he'd been reached out to, which amounts to the same thing when your name is marc spector.)
when he messages adrian, it's early enough in the morning that there's a chance that marc, if he were a reasonable human being, might have only recently woken up. as he's not, the likelier explanation is simply that he hasn't slept yet but, you know, moon knight. )
We should talk.
( that's it, that's the message. no elaboration. hope you have his number saved, adrian, and don't expect marc this side of taking a nap. )
[ Adrian is already at work, yawning his way through his second or third cup of coffee. The whole blood situation at the clinic has, at this point, become a matter of hurry up and wait so he's attempting to get back onto relatively normal person hours.
He was planning to sleep early tonight, all told.
He juggles the phone into his free hand and ducks into an empty exam room to text back. ] Marc? You're back?
[ He must be. Adrian doesn't expect that Steven particularly wants to talk to him, though he appreciates that the message was delivered. ]
( he wants to say that he didn't go anywhere, but that's not true and he's not a liar by habit. (or: marc doesn't consider omitting the truth to be lying, so.)
subsequently, he skips past the question entirely. )
No. I've got a few things to attend to. ( sleep. ) I'll find you after.
Okay, stay safe. :) I'll be off at 4:00 pm today. I was planning to stay in.
[ He'll also give Marc the motel address and room number. He suspects that Marc doesn't need it, but it will go over better with Fern if he has plausible deniability about people he knows just. Knowing where they live and showing up at the door unannounced.
Thankfully, she'll be out tonight, so everything should be just fine! ]
( adrian's suspicions are correct: marc doesn't need the address, but much as adrian's keen to lean into the plausible deniability of it all, so's marc. he's aware that, in many respects, it'll come across as better if he doesn't admit he's TAKEN AN INTEREST in where the people he considers friends stay and work. it'd been one of the things marlene had taken issue with, towards the end of the relationship (not the end end, perhaps, but the beginning of the end.)
something about being controlling, and something else about a lack of respect, all compounded by the way that marc had managed not to listen to what any of her issues were with him. (all he'd heard had been how much she preferred steven—.)
and yet, marc doesn't acknowledge adrian's reply. he doesn't turn up at the clinic at four on the dot. it's not even within an hour or two that he bothers to make an appearance at adrian's address, it's much later, closer to eleven at night. perhaps if marc took more than five minutes to think about it, he'd have bothered with the front door, but as it stands, usual methods of ingress don't occur to marc unless he suspects he's upset the person in question and, well, he's been working.
if "working" is also "avoiding".
but to his credit, he has slept. he'd managed a neat (interrupted) four to five hours, and then decided that moon knighting was an adequate use of his time instead of bothering with the conversation he'd (sort of) initiated. in lieu of the front door, he climbs the fire escape along the outside of the address adrian had given him, hesitating momentarily at the window before—
gently and carefully trying to slide the window open. )
I write to you this evening in the spirit of scientific research: your companion, Miss Fern, suggested I contact you with inquires regarding the recent Contamination of Blood at Solar Clinic.
I am curious to know if, in your esteemed opinion, there will be lasting side effects for the human patients who were prescribed this Tainted Blood; the introduction of Cosmic Residue into an unacclimatised vascular system is most intriguing, and moreover has import in regards to the safety of those who make continued efforts to venture into the Unknown beyond Panorama.
I beg your most generous pardon for the bold nature of this message and hope you will consent to indulge my curiosity even in the face of my most ill of manners.
Faithfully and respectfully yours, L. Cravensworth
I must thank you for reaching out to me in this regard. I was intrigued when you mentioned your areas of expertise on the forum, but I hesitated to press you for further details as we were not yet well acquainted. However, I believe we are in full agreement on this matter with regards to the questionable safety of those who venture into the Diffusion Zones.
I will gladly share what I know. Those who have returned to the clinic were treated promptly of course and, with the addition of magical intervention for some, seem to have made a full recovery with no lingering effects.
There remains still a handful of people we have regrettably been unable to contact. One, we reached too late, and found that he had succumbed. From my examination of the body, I believe his untimely death was caused by a rejection of the contaminated blood, and the critical nature of his need for a proper transfusion.
I cannot speak on those who we have been unable to find, but I suspect they will have suffered a similar fate.
If you are interested in the effects of the contamination in humans who have been corrupted by the Diffusion Zones more directly, I can speak on that as well.
I would be most interested in hearing of any insights your research has yielded, or might yield in the future.
Respectfully yours, A. Silverleaf
Edited 2025-11-02 16:43 (UTC)
from 737 – 9012; sometime at the beginning of dec
[ Since their first and only encounter, Cassian had not made a point to contact Adrian. His feelings about the non-con magic used to heal him aside, he knew that there was a likelihood that whatever had passed silently between them might only serve to make things uncomfortable.
So as much as he pretends that it hasn't happened the gold in his chest is a daily reminder of it. And it's the gold in his chest that makes his mind settle on Adrian as he gazes down at the ruined surface of his thigh. It's only with begrudging willingness that he texts the number that had been handed to him on a scrawled piece of paper when Adrian had dropped him off in the city several months ago. ]
What do you do if skin doesn't look like it's healing?
[ Considering how freely Adrian gives his number out, it's not unusual to receive this kind of message out of the blue. He is starting to think that he should have been a bit more discerning, however. It's extraordinarily difficult to assess a patient through message alone.
Half asleep, regardless of what time of day it is, he responds: ] I go and see the healer who gave me his number.
[ A pause, then: ] It's easier to know what's wrong if I can examine it.
[ Cassian isn't so inconsiderate that he'd make a doctor's call (or in this case a text) at an unreasonable hour - even if he had been woken up in the middle of the night himself due to the pain and had been unable to go back to sleep as a result.
It also hadn't helped that the heating is still wonky in the motel room so he wakes up freezing every other hour. But the cold feels like the least of his concerns as he stares at his thigh. ]
I didn't want to assume you were in town.
[ There's another pause. ]
Sure I'll owe you one.
[ Which is then followed by the motel's address and his room number. ]
[ It's not Cassian's fault. Adrian works every shift he can get, and often the hours are not ideal, in addition to the number of miscellaneous house calls he makes. This means that he might very well be found napping in the middle of the day. ]
You can contact me whenever you have need of my abilities. In fact, I would prefer if you do.
I know how expensive a trip to the clinic can be, believe me.
I'll be there shortly.
[ He does, in fact, gather his things and drive over to Cassian's motel. Once he gets up to the room, Adrian will knock on the door. ]
[He doesn’t even technically have to weasel Adrian’s number out of Lucina—he’d announced himself on the forums some weeks back for those who happen to pay attention.
He does, however, seem to decide to force Adrian to use context clues to figure out who the fuck is texting him. You can do it, champ.
So, one after another, in the wee hours of the morning—]
She had a daughter. HM Thought you’d like to know.
[ Adrian's answer comes after a few hours. His nights aren't quite as late as Jason's, which means that he sleeps right through the notifications.
When he sees the message, he does the most logical thing he can think of: he just asks Fern if she recognizes the number. It's probably one of their mutual friends, he reasons, though he doesn't immediately understand what they're trying to tell him.
[They keep similar company, but they're not friends, not really. They don’t exactly chat like this. So it’s a hindsight kind of thing if it occurs at all—that Jason’s a quick enough texter that he clearly takes a moment of thinking (or typing and erasing, re-drafting his answer) before following up. Since Adrian is clearly following, though—]
Wow. Give her a little credit, huh.
[It’s kind of deliberately mean. Doesn’t quite take into account the vagueness of the dying (dead) woman’s request, the kinds of complications in play. But it plays out. (Had a daughter via one of the Johns, who didn’t want her spreading it around town when he found out. Went to the proprietress to make sure it stayed quiet in a permanent sort of way. Typical, really.) But, well. Wouldn’t you think a mother would want to protect her child?
[ This time, he's a much more aware of Jason's general disposition towards him. He can't say that he expected it to change after a bout of necromancy... but he does appreciate the update. It's something.
Adrian is a slow texter regardless of the situation. It still takes him a while to respond. He's not really satisfied with what he comes up with by the time he pushes send, nearly certain that he'll ruin what tenuous peace there is between them... But he reasons that there's just no sense in trying to predict how Jason will respond to every iteration of what he wants to say.
He's not going to fix everything with the right text message, and he certainly can't make it that much worse. ]
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176 - 0273; call
It isn't long before she realizes she should warn Adrian. While it's unlikely that he would react that same way she did on seeing a pale-faced man with fangs, it still seems a good idea to inform him.
She tries to write out a message for a good fifteen seconds before she gives up and simply hits the "call" button, as instructed by the merchant who sold her this device.
Ring ring— hopefully the sudden jingle from Adrian's phone isn't too much of a shock. ]
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— forget something about my extended warranty? I'm glad you called again, actually, I was wondering —
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Adrian? Adrian, are you there?
[ When he does eventually speak up, he sounds slightly harried. He also isn't making any sense. ]
— What are you saying? [ With a frustrated grunt, she pushes up into a sit on her creaky motel bed. ] It's Fern. Can you hear me?
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[ There's no set time that either of them are meant to check-in, but they still share the same living spaces and keep tabs on one another, for better or worse. If Fern is sending — er, calling him, then it's likely something important, if not dangerous. ]
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It's late to be wandering around the market, she thinks, but she's also observed that Panorama is a city that never sleeps. Adrian can take care of himself against the typical riffraff, so she doesn't chide him. But... ]
The power has gone out here. There are no lights, so be careful when you come back. I'm not sure when it will be... fixed. [ She still only has the most basic understanding of how electricity works here.
Adrian has the ability to see in darkness, same as her, so he'll be fine. That's not actually why she was calling. ]
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🎀
text; emerges from my slumber
I wanted to check in and see how you've been doing, especially given the strange happenings of late.
he gets a response at 3am
it is kind of you to check on me i am doing perfectlyy well
so rry for the late hour
i work at the pavilion clinic now
are you safe
did you find other work
adrian
[ He's still learning how T9 works sorry Wrio. ]
and you finally get a reply 6 days later....crying
It's alright.
Medicine is an all hours job.
I hope you're still getting enough rest in between shifts.
I'm still looking but I'm sure something will turn up.
Nothing strange has happened to you lately?
shh timestamps aren't real
do you need help looking.?
i am okay. nothing worth speaking of.
i have been tending to patients with unusual symptoms but my magic is not strong enough to help so i am looking into it
you did not answer the question. are you safe?
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But you don't need to worry.
I'm safe right now.
I've got someone helping me with the source of my problems.
[ 'helping' might also be a strong word but eh... ]
Is there anything I can help with?
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213 - 7826, early october.
it's that combined with lingering frustration (embarrassment by any other name) that means the delay is longer than strictly necessary. he'd wondered, briefly, if he could get away with ignoring the entire situation, the meteors and the feelings and the jake and the steven of it all, before reaching the conclusion that no, probably not—.
(or more specifically, he'd been reached out to, which amounts to the same thing when your name is marc spector.)
when he messages adrian, it's early enough in the morning that there's a chance that marc, if he were a reasonable human being, might have only recently woken up. as he's not, the likelier explanation is simply that he hasn't slept yet but, you know, moon knight. )
We should talk.
( that's it, that's the message. no elaboration. hope you have his number saved, adrian, and don't expect marc this side of taking a nap. )
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He was planning to sleep early tonight, all told.
He juggles the phone into his free hand and ducks into an empty exam room to text back. ] Marc? You're back?
[ He must be. Adrian doesn't expect that Steven particularly wants to talk to him, though he appreciates that the message was delivered. ]
Yes, we should. Do you want to meet somewhere?
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subsequently, he skips past the question entirely. )
No. I've got a few things to attend to. ( sleep. ) I'll find you after.
( very normal of him. )
What time do you finish work?
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[ He'll also give Marc the motel address and room number. He suspects that Marc doesn't need it, but it will go over better with Fern if he has plausible deniability about people he knows just. Knowing where they live and showing up at the door unannounced.
Thankfully, she'll be out tonight, so everything should be just fine! ]
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something about being controlling, and something else about a lack of respect, all compounded by the way that marc had managed not to listen to what any of her issues were with him. (all he'd heard had been how much she preferred steven—.)
and yet, marc doesn't acknowledge adrian's reply. he doesn't turn up at the clinic at four on the dot. it's not even within an hour or two that he bothers to make an appearance at adrian's address, it's much later, closer to eleven at night. perhaps if marc took more than five minutes to think about it, he'd have bothered with the front door, but as it stands, usual methods of ingress don't occur to marc unless he suspects he's upset the person in question and, well, he's been working.
if "working" is also "avoiding".
but to his credit, he has slept. he'd managed a neat (interrupted) four to five hours, and then decided that moon knighting was an adequate use of his time instead of bothering with the conversation he'd (sort of) initiated. in lieu of the front door, he climbs the fire escape along the outside of the address adrian had given him, hesitating momentarily at the window before—
gently and carefully trying to slide the window open. )
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wow adrian he didn't know he was going to get hit in the face okay
it was just a fun bonus perk for him
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318 - 1888 ; around midnight
I write to you this evening in the spirit of scientific research: your companion, Miss Fern, suggested I contact you with inquires regarding the recent Contamination of Blood at Solar Clinic.
I am curious to know if, in your esteemed opinion, there will be lasting side effects for the human patients who were prescribed this Tainted Blood; the introduction of Cosmic Residue into an unacclimatised vascular system is most intriguing, and moreover has import in regards to the safety of those who make continued efforts to venture into the Unknown beyond Panorama.
I beg your most generous pardon for the bold nature of this message and hope you will consent to indulge my curiosity even in the face of my most ill of manners.
Faithfully and respectfully yours,
L. Cravensworth
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I must thank you for reaching out to me in this regard. I was intrigued when you mentioned your areas of expertise on the forum, but I hesitated to press you for further details as we were not yet well acquainted. However, I believe we are in full agreement on this matter with regards to the questionable safety of those who venture into the Diffusion Zones.
I will gladly share what I know. Those who have returned to the clinic were treated promptly of course and, with the addition of magical intervention for some, seem to have made a full recovery with no lingering effects.
There remains still a handful of people we have regrettably been unable to contact. One, we reached too late, and found that he had succumbed. From my examination of the body, I believe his untimely death was caused by a rejection of the contaminated blood, and the critical nature of his need for a proper transfusion.
I cannot speak on those who we have been unable to find, but I suspect they will have suffered a similar fate.
If you are interested in the effects of the contamination in humans who have been corrupted by the Diffusion Zones more directly, I can speak on that as well.
I would be most interested in hearing of any insights your research has yielded, or might yield in the future.
Respectfully yours,
A. Silverleaf
from 737 – 9012; sometime at the beginning of dec
non-conmagic used to heal him aside, he knew that there was a likelihood that whatever had passed silently between them might only serve to make things uncomfortable.So as much as he pretends that it hasn't happened the gold in his chest is a daily reminder of it. And it's the gold in his chest that makes his mind settle on Adrian as he gazes down at the ruined surface of his thigh. It's only with begrudging willingness that he texts the number that had been handed to him on a scrawled piece of paper when Adrian had dropped him off in the city several months ago. ]
What do you do if skin doesn't look like it's healing?
[ And then a beat later – ]
Normally. With medicine.
[ And then again another beat later – ]
It's Cassian
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Half asleep, regardless of what time of day it is, he responds: ] I go and see the healer who gave me his number.
[ A pause, then: ] It's easier to know what's wrong if I can examine it.
I can come to you, if you prefer.
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It also hadn't helped that the heating is still wonky in the motel room so he wakes up freezing every other hour. But the cold feels like the least of his concerns as he stares at his thigh. ]
I didn't want to assume you were in town.
[ There's another pause. ]
Sure
I'll owe you one.
[ Which is then followed by the motel's address and his room number. ]
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You can contact me whenever you have need of my abilities. In fact, I would prefer if you do.
I know how expensive a trip to the clinic can be, believe me.
I'll be there shortly.
[ He does, in fact, gather his things and drive over to Cassian's motel. Once he gets up to the room, Adrian will knock on the door. ]
Mr. Andor? It's Adrian.
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908 – 1741, a couple days after that speak w dead.
He does, however, seem to decide to force Adrian to use context clues to figure out who the fuck is texting him. You can do it, champ.
So, one after another, in the wee hours of the morning—]
She had a daughter.
HM
Thought you’d like to know.
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When he sees the message, he does the most logical thing he can think of: he just asks Fern if she recognizes the number. It's probably one of their mutual friends, he reasons, though he doesn't immediately understand what they're trying to tell him.
He really should have guessed. ]
Is that who she wanted you to save?
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Wow. Give her a little credit, huh.
[It’s kind of deliberately mean. Doesn’t quite take into account the vagueness of the dying (dead) woman’s request, the kinds of complications in play. But it plays out. (Had a daughter via one of the Johns, who didn’t want her spreading it around town when he found out. Went to the proprietress to make sure it stayed quiet in a permanent sort of way. Typical, really.) But, well. Wouldn’t you think a mother would want to protect her child?
Hah.
Anyway.]
I took care of it.
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Adrian is a slow texter regardless of the situation. It still takes him a while to respond. He's not really satisfied with what he comes up with by the time he pushes send, nearly certain that he'll ruin what tenuous peace there is between them... But he reasons that there's just no sense in trying to predict how Jason will respond to every iteration of what he wants to say.
He's not going to fix everything with the right text message, and he certainly can't make it that much worse. ]
Thank you. For her sake.
Are you alright?
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