Leafiara Starts Collecting Blood Samples For The Cure

Leafiara collects blood samples to help try to find a cure to the Half-Elf affliction from Chaston.

http://bit.ly/2dfZWH9

Category: Towns
Topic: Wehnimer’s Landing

Date: 10/13/2016 11:14 AM CDT

From: LEAFIARA

Subj: Searching for a cure

OOC:

Might be less exciting than last time since this was all player-driven off-the-record stuff, but throughout Wednesday Leafiara was searching more fervently than ever for a cure and managed to get blood samples donated from nine people–five half-elves, three humans, and a half-krolvin. There’s something from Tuesday I’m leaving out for now that I might bring up in another post some time, but I’m waiting to see how things play out. For now I just thought I could use this time for a little character establishment and just me the player reflecting and getting into Leafi’s head a bit more.

Also thought it’d be fun to twist the timing of a merchant alter and fit it into the story (at least Leafi’s personal story)!

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[Late Tilamaires, at an inn in Ta’Illistim]

“Skippy.”

It seemed so long ago to remember, even though it had only been a couple of months, but Leafiara had earned that nickname twice–in Icemule and back home in the Landing, from two very different friends. Each time it had spread immediately to everyone in earshot and, though she’d rolled her eyes, she couldn’t rebuke it and in truth wouldn’t have wanted to. Her friends were welcome to call her anything they wanted and, before the black blood, it had been her second nature to skip through the streets as carefree as though she were a half_ling_ and not a half-sylvan. (If not for her height, who could tell the difference sometimes? She too had such a love of sweets that she still swooned at the mere touch of chocolate on her tongue.)

It had been too long since she skipped and Leafiara considered taking it up again to ease her mind… and others’. Since her recent capture, she had already recovered some of her usual boldness and energy thanks to her friends’ best efforts and affections, but some trauma still lingered, as it would, and she felt the deepest gratitude that they were so patient with her. She’d always been loving, always a hugger, but it had been because she wanted it that way, and even in her current emotional state she’d certainly noticed the difference within her: for the time she needed to snuggle with her friends, needed their warm touches to erase the memories of the cold touches when she was captive.

And she didn’t like it. Leafiara had trained and studied her whole life as a cleric, sworn and devoted to raising the fallen, and for her it was worse than any number of her own deaths that she who wanted to protect others now depended on them so.

Leafi had to skip through the streets again.

No, no, it wasn’t that specifically. Skipping around once more would be one way to do it, but all she needed was, without being fine, to present that she was fine–to give that little kindness back to her friends, to reward them for aiding her recovery.

More importantly, she needed to look her usual cheerful self in the name of her new mission.

She had to renew her efforts to convince others to donate their blood samples. She’d been asking around for samples since the affliction began, but she had a new sense of urgency, having smelled the burning bodies of her kin, having seen them in chains–and having been in chains, having her own blood taken.

In any case, she now believed that studying human blood would be helpful too, and to the best of her knowledge nobody else was looking into that. No, she couldn’t be content any longer with leaving the collection of blood to experts, figuring that House Sylvanfair or the dwarves or Cruxophim should work on it and not her.

Leafiara herself had to gather samples.

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[Morning of Leyan, at Meazernis Villa in Ta’Illistim]

Leafiara waited patiently in line, idly thumbing the bell-adorned layered silk skirt in her hand. It would be red instead of its current nearly-colorless state after the gardener Wilaby worked her tailoring hands over it, and that wasn’t the only thing about to change. Leafi always kept a list of outfit projects she’d like to have completed for her, and before a new twist had found its way into her plans the night before, she’d been half-ready to roll some dice or flip some coins to decide which bag or piece of clothing she’d have worked on next. Now? Now her decision was simple as could be.

Growing up as she had in the sylvan forests, surrounded mostly by ladies and completely by long-lived sylvans who still thought her scarcely older than a baby when she left the forests at eighteen, Leafi had never been offered the slightest hint of romantic attention–nor had she wanted it. Her early studies in clerical schools, before she became a quester in earnest, had been just as chaste.

Ever since moving to the Landing, though, she’d been surrounded by would-be suitors. Gentlemen and ladies alike flirted with her often–more numerous gentlemen than ladies, she’d found, but more persistent ladies than gentlemen.

For her part, Leafi showed no interest in romance; she was a busy girl and a social butterfly. At times it hurt her head trying to so much as imagine how anyone with even half as many friends as her could pick out only one to devote so much time and attention to instead of floating between them all as they needed her.

Still, she wasn’t oblivious to wandering eyes–she couldn’t possibly be, considering how many had turned her way in the frontier town. She’d picked up on what others liked to see. They liked her green eyes, they liked her red hair, they liked when she stretched her arms over her head, and they liked…

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I do have long legs, huh?

Leafiara had never thought about it, but she readily noticed now as she pulled her skirt up onto her waist, newly cut to end at her knees and newly slit up her thighs. She took some experimental steps, turns, and twirls, feeling out the skirt: she could move much more easily now, like she’d always planned since before Chaston’s campaign began in earnest. She’d wanted to brawl better and to dance more lightly–would Tilamaire be pleased?–and she was a stickler on function over form, so much that once upon a time her greatest peeve in the world had been seeing other ladies wearing high heels (though it now seemed quaint that her younger sylvan-sheltered self had made so much out of so little).

The only reason Leafi hadn’t pared down her skirt this way long ago was a lingering concern that she’d attract even more suitors who she’d have to turn down. Such a shame–she wanted to bring smiles to everyone’s faces and in this one respect so important to them, she had to disappoint every time.

…but it no longer mattered. Nothing mattered except the cure for the black blood and the end of Chaston–and ideally the end of Raznel. She couldn’t continue to live as Leafiara the cursed, so becoming Leafi the heartbreaker if she had to was now more perk than concern. If she attracted a wandering eye, so be it. Anything that might persuade a person to donate blood.

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[Late Leyan, at the Raging Thrak]

Leafi slipped her arms under her head and sunk back against her pillow, laying there in the quiet of night. Yet another barricade had been built… but the militia had a plan, she’d heard, and for the first time in a while she thought she could sleep easy this night–at least as easy as circumstances could allow. Her mission had already seen her collect nine new blood samples, with two more promised to her at a later time, and she’d been relieved to find that she’d only needed her smile after all and not her new skirt. She’d not yet seen hide nor hair of some particular faces she’d hoped to get samples from, but it was alright. She’d made good progress–and tomorrow she’d make more.

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[OOC: this last bit is an in-character summary of 8000 words of edited-down logs. Yes, I RPed Leafi asking for donors all day.]

Blood Collection Record

Zorst, a human – Collected without incident. The first human blood sample collected for the sake of finding a cure!

Retaxis, a half-krolvin – Collected without incident. Retaxis feels as I do: disappointed in the Mayor and the militia that anyone had thought taking back the outpost was a greater priority than destroying the barricades or that it should even be put to a vote. How can civilians not come first?!

Elande, an unafflicted half-elf – I withdrew my request because I had to, seeing him swigging down ale right before and after I asked.

Bravlyn, an unafflicted half-elf – Collected without incident.

Jezria, a human – Collected without incident thanks to Bravlyn bringing her in.

Elleanour, an unafflicted half-elf – Collected without incident.

Areigha, a human – Cautioned me afterward not to let Raznel get her sample somehow; my dear Areigha doesn’t want to become a possessed assassin. I’m happy she agrees with me on this: the Landing should have devoted every last resource to hunting down Raznel, the greatest threat we face, during less troubled times before Chaston’s campaign.

Eena, an unafflicted half-elf – Not collected yet; promised to donate later, but I was on duty raising the fallen when we were invaded.

Riixae, an unafflicted half-elf (and visiting from Icemule) – Mostly collected without incident. My poor friend Riixae needed a lot of love and tender touches because she was squeamish around the syringe. Even though she’s an empath, I can’t say one word against it. [In slightly shakier writing:] Lately I understand that need very well…

Elassa, a human – I left her alone since Crux already sampled her blood before I could, when he had healed her fallen corpse and taken a bite as he usually does. Seeing that in writing and thinking back now makes me wonder: has Crux already been collecting and studying human blood without my knowledge? I’ll have to ask and I hope he has. It wouldn’t surprise me. We could hardly be more different, but somehow it’s always him who I can count on most in any crisis. I’m so wary of the Lornon Arkati and of sorcerers and their demons, yet people like Cruxophim and Areigha are so very good to me.)

Wrichie, a half-elf – Collected without incident. He’s promised to ask his human half-brother Hawksterr to donate as well at a future date.

Jhenni, a half-elf – Collected without incident. I’m happy I ended my night speaking with her. After I explained that I wanted human blood since it’s a common connection between half-elves and half-krolvin and mentioned as well that Chaston’s forces are predominantly human, Jhenni proposed an idea I wish I’d thought of myself: “Maybe Chaston’s humans are carriers… infected, but not affected.” She’s right. It could have been under our noses this whole time–and who’s been studying any blood other than half-elven? It could even be that it’s worse than she believes, as well; many of our own human citizens could be unknowing carriers of the blight too. It’s of utmost importance to look into this…