|Ashur|| The clouds hang heavy and still as funeral shroud in a greybleak sky; when the sun hides, and the warmth grows chill, what is there to do but shuffle indoors and seek out creature comforts? Such is what brings Kurokumo and Ashur to one of the clinic's examination rooms. The lumbering brute is seated on the floor, as has become his wont; being an inhuman giant has sparked in him a certain consideration for things around him.
The mottled walls of scrap and clay brick are dark, dappled with shadow and light that smudge like inkstains. Beneath one of the cabinets, there's a pot filled with cool, semi-fresh water, next to a quenched fire used to heat it. Discarded near it is a clay flagon of half-empty rot-gut that one of the many destitute locals likely forgot about, sealed with cork.
The red mutant's chest has been healing well-- one can barely tell he was injured at all during the expedition! But there remain scrapes and bruises, and a check-up is always good..
Plus, he's gotten hurt since.
|Kurokumo Mibojin||Considering that the auditorium that houses the Church is the only real miracle of air conditioning, a bleak day like this is something everyone needs to cool off a bit. Kurokumo finds that she slips and flops, from being bundled in cloth against the cold and now uncomfortably warm as her hormones shift. While Ashur is seated, Kurokumo stands, the contrast in height allowing for such a vast difference in posing as she peers at the wounds lining his hulking form. "Looks like you're healing rather well, husband. What adventure did you get into lately?" She's no longer bothered by him going out and about, since he always seems to manage to come back home.|
|Ashur|| "Dunwich calls to me," he mentions. "The girl, Eden, keeps going there; she thinks there's a ghost car and she wishes to tame it. But every time she goes, she gets in trouble. The last time we found the bodies of the dead rising from their graves to attack us." His mouth sets in a firm line, eyes crinkled, brow furrowing as the lips tug down in scowl. "The dead who walk make me angry. They do not know their place; leave the world to the living!"
"The Horde is not dead, mine. We bombed many of them, but enough survived to be pests. In Arizona, the remnants of the Legion have been fighting them; I heard word in New Rome."
|Kurokumo Mibojin||"That is troublesome." The Doctor had to gather so many bundles of ingredients for her ointments and salves, the sheer expanse of crimson skin requiring more than just a dab here or there. She's shaking her head, gathering a hand-filled scoop of the fragrant mess before slathering it onto Ashur's broad chest. Kurokumo finds herself having to twist slightly, here and there, protruding stomach making it difficult to manage.|
|Ashur|| As the salves are worked into the myriad wounds he holds in preparation for dressing, the golden eyes of the brute linger on Kumo's swollen stomach. He reaches out with a hand-- and what a hand it is, damn near big enough to fully engulf the proof of her pregnancy, where his seed took root. The giant cracks a craggy smile. "Soon, little one, our first child. I will have us settled in New Rome in short order. Shantytown is no place for a family of mine!"
He drops his hand and leans back, fingers splayed, palms flat on the floor, to give his woman easier access to his massive, muscular torso. The chest she's currently stroking took a rocket head-on during the expedition.. a rocket! And he wasn't even this mutant behemoth then.
Yet here he is, alive and well. For values of well.
"I think I will offer my services to the Whitecloaks there; should the Broken Legion fall, the Horde will continue on, and New Rome will be in its path. I will not allow it."
|Kurokumo Mibojin||Kurokumo smiles shyly, affection warm as she's giving off waves of heat herself despite the chilled weather. "They won't know what hit them." On she goes, finding the cuts and scrapes and moving accordingly. She's not entirely sure if a surgical sweing needle will pierce Ashur's toughened flesh. "Where else does it hurt? Maybe there's a spot that doesn't move so well?" Kurokumo remembers that her husband mentioned feeling fantastic and pain free, which makes her profession as a Doctor more difficult to diagnose.|
|Ashur|| "Some men shot at me a week ago near Jack's Town," he observes, turning to the side and sliding onto his hip. The sprawling cords of his muscles strain beneath the skin; his spine is visible, the individual contours of the muscles, cutting deep grooves in the hairy skin that fails to conceal the striations. He's a work of art.. albeit not in the pretty sense most imagine.
That remarkable definition helps identify wounds: including a handful of bullets visibly lodged in his back muscles, having failed to fully penetrate. The hide of a super mutant can be defense all its own, sometimes.
"I can feel pain, sometimes.. but it's different now. What used to hurt a lot hurts a little. Bullets are like bug bites."
|Kurokumo Mibojin||Cursing under her breath, Kurokumo steps over a gargantuan thigh to clean off her hands and obtain the surgical pliers just for removing fragments of metal. "You've been walking around for over a week with shells in your back..." Metal pan in the other hand, she manages to slide down using the wall as a support before plopping on the ground to work on the hidden stretch of flesh. Kurokumo is clucking her mild dissapproval as the tool digs out the ineffective slugs.|
|Ashur|| "I was going to pull them out," he begins, rolling a shoulder back and reaching behind him-- but he can't quite get his arm over the massive hump of sinew and ligament and skin that constitutes his shoulder and upper back. "But.. didn't work. And I just forgot about it."
The old Ashur would have been concerned with infection and sought to remove them. He would have ignored the pain, but removed them. The new one? Whether from a more vigorous constitution or a duller mind, he thinks not of the health risks involved.
|Kurokumo Mibojin||"It's ok. It's...ok." He's given a sympathetic look, the awkward positioning of his new body preventing such self care. Do Supermutants get sick? "Maybe I should make sure I give you a check-up every time you get back." Another slug clangs within the metal surgical pan as Ashur's wife works.|
|Ashur|| The mutant hums and nods as the forceps go to work-- pushing aside his opened wounds, sliding into the wet, bloodied spots and squeezing, careful to draw out the bits of lead without breaking them and then getting whatever fragments are left behind. It is an uncomfortable process for most.. but his sensitivity is dulled, the skin thick and numb, the muscles without nerves. A mild irritant at best-- rather than pain, it itches.
"That's fine," he agrees. "I don't know how my body works anymore. I don't feel much pain, but can I get sick? Infected? Would I heal faster if I got hurt really bad?" A shrug.. as she tries to pry a bullet out, whoops.
"It feels strange to not be me anymore."
A pause. Work, work, work.
"With you, Celeste, and my Eden, the house will be bustling; my brides and my children gathered in one spot for me."
|Kurokumo Mibojin||Kurokumo's expression is hidden from Ashur's view. She frowns, cloth mopping up the blood oozing from the holes as she cleans up. When is Sparrow going to change him back? Can he be changed back? "Celeste and Eden will be moving with us? We will need to build shelters for the horses." It's a more casual conversation topic, veering away from the creeping dread that Ashur is stuck in this alien form.|
|Ashur||"I will make them come," the brute rumbles, his voice darkening with promise. "I will not have my wives a world away; you belong where I put you." He listens to the little clang as the bullets are dropped into the tin, relaxing beneath his woman's tender ministration. A toss of his head, a snort, the thick braids of his hair falling like water around his shoulders, and the bull leans his head down, chin to chest, eyes closed. "I want to see Celeste start a ranch in New Rome, too. She is a fine breeder, and they could no doubt use a cavalry."|
|Kurokumo Mibojin||"Most definitely." The Doctor finishes up, before attempting to move from her spot against the wall. She grunts, body straining before giving up on the attempt. Kurokumo is breathing is a bit strained, hand gingerly patting a patch of uninjured red flesh. "You're good for now." Is her reply, satifaction marred by irritation and exhaustion.|
|Ashur||So tended, the giant rises first to a knee and then stands with a great rush of air. He looms now, bowed, for at full height his head would brush the ceiling, and rests a heavy hand atop Kumo's head. First comes the pat-- a dull thumping touch that melts into a series of affectionate pets and scritches. "Thank you, mine. I'm the strongest one there is, and you keep me alive!"|