The Necropolis [Conway]

[Vyn]

As the moon drapes curtains of moonlight over the Wastes, a solitary figure moves about a small necropolis. The Necropolis itself is set apart from the general population, granting it and its permanently sleeping guests the solitude and quiet peace the dead deserved.

For most, the eerie quiet could have been enough to drive you mad... For Javaid, it was 'home'.

His family was not as close as he would have liked, but his ancestors were all buried here and so this was where he would stay.

On most nights, Javaid would have devoted his time and energy to his research but the earlier part of the day had attended a funeral and the jackal was left cleaning and tending to the grave sites and tombs. So it was that he was standing out in the evening air, humming a funeral hymn beneath his breath as he went about his work.

To anyone who would approach the necropolis, as rare as that was at such a late hour, it would seem quite deserted. A temple took up the foremost part, suited for tending to passing travelers and creating the small space Javaid called home. Lit with warm yellow lanterns, the main entry was welcoming even in its emptiness.

[Kari Muffin]

Home. It was a term that Conway really couldn't use, but the region was close enough. However, there was something wrong with him. He hadn't been feeling normal, even for him, it was just weird.

This wasn't okay. He was wandering around, his eyes were simply failing him as he struggled to walk forward. Honestly. If he was going to die, he wanted to take his own life by a knife to the throat. He didn't want to die being miserable. Unfortunately he hadn't thought to replace the knife that he had thrown away so long ago. He should... he should try to see George again.

But he couldn't think about that right now. He didn't know where he was. Before Conway knew what was happening he found himself collapsed on the ground. He could feel the tears in his eyes, the pain of his head pounding. Damn. He really was going to die. He wasn't going to see June or George or Thyme ever again.

Talk about an epic failure.

[Vyn]

It would be a little while yet before Javaid withdrew from the tombs and returned to the temple proper, but when he did he'd be met with an awful surprise. A boy was sprawled out on the ground, unconcious or otherwise he couldn't really tell. The Jackal bristled a little with uncertainty, blue eyes sweeping rapidly over the surroundings. No one was with him and Javaid could see no ready harm in taking him in, dead or alive.

Crouching down he gently laid a soft, furred hand upon the boy's shoulder. "Are you awake, child?" Alive would have been a good question too, but there were tears in his eyes and his breathing was visible if not shallow.

A drug overdose, perhaps, or something else? Sickness?

His hand rose from the boy's shoulder, fell upon his forehead where he was met instantly with a wave of heat. Fever? His hand drifted downward, this time absently, as his eyes fell upon the scar on the boy's face. Even with the scar he was rather cute...but Javaid swiftly pushed that thought rather swiftly from his mind. If the boy was sick then, he would nurse him back to health.

[Kari Muffin]

He really didn't someone to appear while he was on the ground barely able to breathe. To the man's touch, Conway winced, he still didn't like it when people touched him without permission--sick or not. Apparently that didn't matter now.

With a voice like that, Conway had to be dead. There was no way that something that... he couldn't even come up with the word describe what the blurry figure with an amazing voice was. He just had to be dead. Nothing like that could exist in reality.

He whimpered. Hopefully he had concentrated enough that the man (if he was real) could hear it (if Conway was actually alive). It was hard to focus on anything when barely clinging to consciousness. He choked and coughed for a moment as he tried his hardest to move. No, that wasn't happening. Damn. There really was no way he was alive.

[Vyn]

The brief wince and that soft whimper was enough to reassure Javaid that his 'visitor' was indeed alive though perhaps not by much. He was also sure that the boy would not be getting up on his own. The lithe Jackal wasn't exactly built to be carrying people around and it was obvious that the human wasn't moving on his own.

Sighing softly, he concentrated on activating his Queen ability. What he needed was someone to lift the boy for him. After a few moments there came a sound of low footsteps and a third less-sightly figure made its way over to the Queen of Spades. He tapped his foot lightly, murmuring commands to the animated corpse. If the kid was as far gone as he seemed, he doubted he'd notice exactly what was carrying him.

Leading the way, he brought the boy to the basement of the temple that served as his personal quarters and had the corpse lay Conway onto the bed before dismissing it back to its tomb. Once the servant was gone, Javaid turned his full attention on the kid. This would be so much easier if he knew what was wrong with him! Forcing the frustration from his thoughts, Javaid focused on handling the situation at hand: first thing first was to break that fever. He stepped quickly out of the room, returning with a bowl of chilled water and a wet rag. Laying it lightly over his brow, Javaid took a seat nearby to keep an eye on him.

This was going to be a long night.

[Kari Muffin]

It was a damn good thing Conway was far too incoherent to notice anything besides the fact that he was being carried. The next thing he remembered was having something cold on his forehead. It felt nice. Really. It meant that he was alive, didn't it?

He tried to sleep. When he did though he was twitching and sweating uncontrollably. He woke himself up more than once, choking on his own mucus. Death would be nicer than dealing with this. After a while, he noticed that there was someone else in the room, but was far too bleary eyed and confused to know who or what it was.

Ultimately the boy ended up up flopping onto his stomach with his head tilted to face a wall. His breathing was still labored, but he was a spot more coherent. That would disappear in time, but it was probably enough for the other person to ask questions. The other person that Conway was too terrified to look at. He had to be hallucinating.

[Vyn]

Javaid remained the silent vigil. He checked the compress frequently, made sure it was cool and did not adjust to the boy's stubborn fever, and did his best to keep the boy as comfortable as absolutely possible. It was hard though, for he kept shifting and twitching and many times Javaid had to remain at the edge of the bed to keep the compress in place.

When Conway finally roused a little, Javaid would be just returning with a tray of tea and a fresh bowl of ice water. The warm scent of the brew filled the room as Javaid set the tray on the table beside the bed and settled lightly on the edge of the mattress. The boy seemed someone coherent now, at least more so than he had previously. "Is there anything I can do to make your more comfortable?" He asked lightly, a pale hand-paw hovering over the human's shoulder. Now that the kid seemed more coherent, Javaid didn't want to push boundaries and frighten him; he'd obviously been through enough.

"If you lay back, I've got another compress for you...and some Chammomile, if it suits you."

The Jackal's voice was old and hollow and carried a faint hint of disuse to it. He rarely kept company and his socializing skills suffered for it. When he spoke, he said only what he meant and only when it was necessary. It was, obviously, needed now in order to help care for the sickly young male.

[Kari Muffin]

Conway stared blankly at the man. "Is this for real?" he said as clearly as her could. He had to concentrate on making sure his voice was heard, and it was difficult on so many levels. When you could only breathe through you mouth things just became difficult.

The boy shifted to lay on his back He had a voice... an amazing voice that was enough to perk Conway's interest. "Who... are you... and where the hell am I?"

Guh. It hurt so much to breathe. He shuddered for a few moments when he tried to sit up. No that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to talk himself out of the pain. Being on his back was just a generally bad idea, and his spine wasn't exactly appreciating the extra weight. He whimpered before turning to his side. He wasn't dead if he was in this much pain.

[Vyn]

Javaid couldn't help but notice the way the boy whimpered as he laid on his back. Had he hurt himself? Having been too modest to remove the boy's clothing and too weak to carry him on his own, Javaid was quite unaware of his aching spine. He didn't insist on the boy laying on his back again though, he wasn't blind. Instead he lifted the chilled rag from the water and wrung it out until it was merely cold and damp before shifting to press it to the male's temples.

"As real as anything is." Javaid's voice remained low, laced with uncertain concern. When Conway attempted to sit up, Javaid pressed a hand lightly to the male's chest and urged him back down. "My name is Javaid and you're in a Necropolis, I live and work here. And you?"

He tried to answer everything cohesively, but his energy was waning and his concern for the boy was growing. What an awful fever! After a moment he pulled back, leaving the compress draped over his temple and returning to the tray on the bedside. He poured a cup of tea, chamomile infused with some pain relievers, and leaned back in. "Drink this, it should help with the pain." Gently he slid a hand beneath the male's head, lifting him just enough that he could drink without risk of choking on the warm liquid.

[Kari Muffin]

Well. Conway wasn't quite sure how to take that. "I'm Conway," was all he could manage from all the bleariness. He shouldn't be talking to the man. Oh god, what if he found out the truth? This not thinking clearly was dangerous. He took a deep breath through his mouth as he struggled to remain in a state of coherency.

He would have protested having the tea pressed to his mouth if he could properly lift his arms. Fine. Fine he would drink the damn tea until the Javaid person took it away. When he did, Conway slumped down once again.

In all honesty this wouldn't have been so bad if he had taken better care of himself. Stress, not eating, all of it had whittled away at his immune system, until it crashed spectacularly in a blaze of glory. Whatever he had, it was probably a combination of several things that had been waiting to pounce. It would take a long time for him to get better.