The Immortal Chat: Episode 5

In which we get hints of her backstory.
| CW: swearing, some violence, some mature humor |
| Disclaimer: This an old writing style from several years ago. I do not endorse nor approve of things characters may say or do. |

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"Stumbling into my place and shutting the window after another long day, I collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. The gunman from earlier had been a tough bastard, but thankfully I had kept the innocents safe… although not without some collateral damage..."

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Episode 5

Stumbling into my place and shutting the window after another long day, I collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. The gunman from earlier had been a tough bastard, but thankfully I had kept the innocents safe… although not without some collateral damage. I rolled over and scrabbled for some clean towels I kept in a basket nearby, and pressed it to my bloody side, wincing and biting off a curse. It’d heal, but I needed to get the bullet out quick. Otherwise I’d heal right over it… and that was never a pleasant experience.

*ow
*fuck that looks painful
*THAT PAIN IS JUST WEAKNESS LEAVING YOUR BODY, BUCK UP
*what are you a fucking drill sergeant?
*QUIET YOUR INSUBORDINATION! DROP AND GIVE ME 20!
*ngl, he’s getting annoying
*getting there? He’s been annoying since he got here
*hey hang in there, it hurts but better get over it now
*yeah last time… it wasn’t pretty
*wait what is she gonna do
*close your eyes pansy

Forcing myself up, I walked over to my bathroom - always kept religiously sanitary for this very reason - and dragged out my medical kit. Picking up the tools I needed, I took a breath and dug out the bullet, trying not to cry out in pain. Finally I heard the clink of the bullet hitting the floor, and I cleaned and packed the wound before letting myself sink back against the wall to catch my breath. Fuck that hurts. Taking deep breaths, I dropped my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, letting chat spin in the back of my mind without paying much attention. Breathe. Just breathe. In… out… in… out.

I exhaled slowly, not moving. I know that I should move, clean up the blood, but right now… I’m just too tired.

*yeah what are you going on about new guy
*this is pretty common
*hey I wasn’t expecting her to pull out a bullet ok?!?
*what were you expecting then? Didn’t you see her fight when she killed you?
*he was expecting rainbows and unicorns I presume
*unicorns are only acceptable if Deadpool is involved
*Agreed!
*she didn’t kill me what are you talking about

“Guys,” I sighed, not feeling like dealing with any of their crap after the day I had, “just play nice please. It’s been a long day.”

*these are important questions though
*yeah, I wanna know how this guy got in
*what are you all talking about
*new guy, how did you die?
*why are you asking?? Leave me alone ok!
*jeez what’s with you
*its a simple question
*wtf man, it’s not that big a deal leave him be
*idk, I think it’s an easy question
*so how did you die
*...
*I WILL TELL YOU HOW I DID! ‘Twas a day long, long ago
*noooo don’t I beg you, not again
*”in a galaxy far far away”
*here we go again…

The familiar chat scrolling past with the same collection of bickering voices became an almost soothing background as I sank into slumber...

Startling awake, I glanced around with my heart racing, only to realize that I was still sitting on the bathroom floor. I was at home. Safe. Moving to get up, I groaned as my aching muscles and bones protested the painful accommodations of the hard tile. After a quick check of my wound - already partially healed - I stumbled across and into my bed, sinking into the comfortable blankets yet wide awake. The nightmares did not help my sleep any… the repeating memories of tragedies and atrocities that I pushed out of my mind in the waking hours yet still haunt me at night.

“Hush little baby don’t say a word, and never mind that noise you heard…” I murmured to myself, the Metallica song coming to mind. I cast a thought to chat, taking a look to see what they were up to. It was a few hours later, but that one guy in chat was still telling his epic tale of battles and last stands and brave sacrifices that I was fairly certain were exaggerated. Chat was eating it up though, most of them seemingly spellbound by his lyrical words. It made sense, honestly, I’m pretty sure he had been a bard before he died.

*standing on the bridge, he cried with a mighty voice, the message resounding stronger with every rising word, “They shall not take our lands! They shall not take our wives, our families! They shall not take our pride! We will defend our homes, and not a single one of them shall set foot across this bridge until every man among us has laid down his life!”
*...
*(I can’t fucking wait to hear the rest)
*HYPE
*YEASS
*is that stupid story over finally?
*all of yiz shut up and let him tell the story. This is badass

Listening to the storyteller continue his epic, I considered how I measure up to the standards from all those long years ago. Oh Artagan, how you’d shake your head if you saw me now. The bard might be exaggerating some things… well, many things, but he is most certainly not doing your courage and resolve any injustice. I smiled for a moment at faint memories, both feeling so long ago and yet so recent at the same time.

I let the story continue without correcting him on any of the points. It was only a story, after all. Casting my mind to other things, I tried to relax and clear my thoughts. A few last words drifted across my mind before sleep claimed me once more, “It’s just the beasts under your bed, in your closet in your head…”

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