Lt. Col. John Sheppard [Stargate: Atlantis] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ferriswheelsandfootball) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
apocalypsehowcomm2023-09-04 07:00 pm
ferriswheelsandfootball) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2023-09-04 07:00 pm
ferriswheelsandfootball) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2023-09-04 07:00 pm
Finally, Therapy - For Elidibus
He’s been through it long enough to know that he needs to talk to someone. A professional, in this case.
He can practically hear Elizabeth’s voice. Took you long enough.
So here he is, after arranging it, waiting in the apartment, waiting on his couch, then standing, then sitting on a chair, then getting up, then getting snack, then turning on the TV, but none of it is enough to distract him.
Him, nervous? Never. What can he say, anyway?
Hey, so I fell into another world and can’t get back home, and I also explored a cursed forest way too much and went insane one night when the stars wouldn’t stop screaming, dealt with spiders and pants-spiders, fought a zombie and died—
—because if dying wasn’t enough I came back to life and never dealt with the absolute existential horror of either, and came back wrong because now I’m an Avatar of the Hunt and keep turning into a giant cat thing and that’s fine too and not also existentially horrifying and feeling like I’m losing myself…
Also I keep succumbing to my instincts and hurting Rodney, and that’s terrifying, but what’s also just as terrifying as any of this is that I love Rodney McKay and keep messing things up, and I can’t lose him and we keep fighting and I can’t lose this…
I can’t lose him and he’s the one good thing that’s happened to me here and I finally admitted I like him and that was a whole thing and he was the first guy I let myself like in like 20 years because there’s a whole horrible story behind that and it’s also the first time I won’t lose my career because of it—
And oh yeah, I have a giant crab arm after getting turned into a crab weasel.
And the Stars are back.
The problem is deciding what to talk about first…
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Arranging an at-home visit is certainly easy. Unlike most professionals, Elidibus isn't limited to therapy over secure video software or a static office. Glad you consider him a legitimate professional though, Shep.
There's a knock on the door and when he's let in, Elidibus politely greets his new patient.
"It is good to speak with you again."
You know, in person. And not over an issue of electronics brought to life. At least this visit Elidibus is not holding a knife.
"Where would you like to conduct our meeting?" His glance around the immediate room of the apartment is most casual and one could easily believe very natural. But it's honestly a means to glean any information about Sheppard's personality and current mental state as anything.
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His eyes dart down to make sure that there’s no knives.
Just in case.
He moves so they Elidibus can enter the room, closing the door behind them. And the state of the apartment is…not great. It’s not overly a disaster, but it’s just…neglected. Takeout boxes are stacked up in a corner.
It’s probably fine.
“Couch or chairs would be good. Isn’t that a thing, I lie down on the couch and tell you about my life?”
The sideways smirk and joke don’t seem to hide the anxiety in his eyes. He plops down on the couch anyway. There’s a small coffee table and a set of chairs next to the couch, and a TV set that isn’t on. Video games litter the table and it’s obvious John has spent his meager salary on an XBox and PS5.
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"If that is what would make you comfortable, then I will oblige." So probably not his normal method. Elidibus gives a polite nod and simply follows the flow of the joke and John's actions, claiming a seat nearest enough to the corporal's head to suggest he at least knows the reference that was being made. The backpack is placed nearby.
"Pray begin where you wish to. You have my undivided attention."
And this is true. There's going to be no laptop, if he has one, no notepad and pen. He simply settles in, folds his hands together and waits for John to speak.
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Sheppard nestles on the couch, noting that there's no recording device (that he can see), nothing to take notes with. Interesting. It kinda makes him more comfortable, honestly, and maybe he'll open up a little more.
"Uh."
He blinks, staring up at ceiling.
"Where to begin..."
...where can he begin? There is so much.
...so maybe he begins with all of it.
"Okay, so just a heads up, I'm not good at this...thing, I don't see therapists and talking about emotions and all that stuff isn't easy for me? So..."
So yeah. This is gonna be great. Maybe he should just start with the most recent stuff.
"Recently a faerie stole my name so I can only go by Sheppard now, which is kind of existentially horrifying and feels like they stole a piece of me, so there's that."
A beat.
"And then of course me and Rodney are still exploring Dogtown and it's still awful--the Stars keep coming back and I don't know when they'll stop, if they'll ever stop, and they don't shut up--sometimes I hear the whistles of that zombie Hunter that chased us and I think Hickey's going to turn around the corner every time we go in there...not to mention all the awful stuff that's happened to us in there already. Me and Rodney just keep going through it and...but we can't stop exploring Dogtown, that's what we do. That was our job back home, that's our job here, and if there's a way we can find something, anything that can help us get back home..."
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"Few find it easy. You need not be concerned. Speak as you will and I will ask questions if the need arises." He offers a tilt of his head while allowing. "Of course, you need not elaborate further than you are comfortable sharing."
And so he falls quiet again, allowing the man to do just that. Elidibus appears more intrigued than shocked that his patient mentions the fae or having a named stolen. One just... expects that possibility from the species, right? And it's not as if there isn't a prime culprit that's made their presence known of late.
So... Sheppard. Sheppard, Sheppard. Lieutenant Colonel .. Sheppard. How curious, that tiny beat of missing name. Uniquely different from the familiar emptiness of lost and faded memories. Though Elidibus finds it bothers him anyway to have lost even the tiniest bit of knowledge. So tempting it is to peek into the ribbon of aether which shapes the couch-ridden man past and present and memory and look and see if it's there...
No. There's more Sheppard says and Elidibus forces himself to focus on the stream of consciousness being verbally offered. For now.
The Stars are back? He most certainly remembers the warning posted about the zombie Hunter and remembers someone named Hickey... ahem, exchanging words with Emet-Selch on the nuances of how to play camp ball at the spring festival when he had first arrived. And... well, Hickey fell victim to the dangers of this world. That too was reported. And so surely were the stars before. Though Elidibus is interest that Sheppard has had close personal experience with the phenomenon that started to appear again at the beginning of the prior month.
Still he holds himself back for now. This is not about interrogating Sheppard for what knowledge he holds. Not so directly. It is about aiding him in working through the building anxiety and fear such knowledge has burdened the man with. Right?
"There is certainly comfort to be had in the familiar routine of one's duty." Elidibus knows that well. He allows a sympathetic smile show faintly. "But such dedication is not without its hazards. It may lead to obsession. Or... something so near as to be mistaken for it."
There seems to be a private joke there. But Elidibus is quick to shift his thoughts to contemplation before continuing.
"I am not unfamiliar with the concept of Fae. Inasmuch as their nature allows. A name may be regained though it is not without risk."
And it could have turned out far worse for Sheppard, though the silver-haired man is aware that saying that will hardly make things better.
"How long has it been since you have truly stopped to rest?"
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And it cost him his life. But he's not ready to reveal that to Elidibus just yet, or the fact that he's an Avatar.
"I'm gonna try to track the faerie down, see if I can't get it back."
Except.
Except what Elidibus says next stops him cold.
How long has it been since you have truly stopped to rest?
He doesn't answer for awhile.
"...I don't..." He takes a second, a breath catching in his throat. "I don't rest, here."
Even in Atlantis, he'd had leisure time--he'd gone surfing, golfing on his days off, playing RC cars with Rodney. Here, he'd been so single-mindedly obsessed that he doesn't know the last time he'd allowed himself 'a day off.' He watched movies and played video games, sure, and quite a bit, but they were mostly to recover from whatever daily horror he'd dealt with and not truly rest.
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Not comforting to hear. But sometimes good advice is best served with clarity.
Elidibus seems to instinctively know that treating the loss of identity is something that could be pragmatically solved. But the emotional baggage, while hauntingly familiar, is far from the priority here.
The way Sheppard pauses, chokes up and somewhat brokenly admits to not having any rest? That is what must be addressed first. Should be addressed first, anyway.
Elidibus may be expected to offer admonishment, gentle as it can be delivered. Or that the stricken man should do this or that. Someone might expect Elidibus's expression to indicate surprise or lack thereof. Even assumption would be reasonable. Like assuming Sheppard's reason for not resting is because of a desperation to return home. Certainly a suitable assumption. Reasonable even.
But Elidibus does not.
"Why?" he instead prompts without any judgement. There is only the suggestion of interest.
Interest in how Sheppard would further explain that drive to not rest. Its reasons. His feelings on the matter.
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Will he take that advice, well.
There's a long pause before he answers.
Why is a very good question.
He opens his mouth, then pauses, then closes it again.
Why?
"I don't know. I can't afford to, I guess. With the way things are going here, it's just gonna get worse before it gets better. Or maybe I just can't sit still."
The Hunt prods him, urges him, never lets him stop being obsessed, never lets him give up the chase.
The chase is all there is. If all his problems were solved now, he'd just find new ones.
"I'm not saying I don't want to, I do, I just..."
The Hunt has its claws into him and will never, ever let go.
"I'll rest when all this is over."
It will never be over.
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It's not as if there isn't already a small collection of information he has on Sheppard. The man is pretty vocal on the networks and it's easy enough to piece together small bits of context. Does that mean Elidibus knows more than he's letting on?
Not exactly. But it does mean he's pleased to have an opportunity to add more pieces to the picture slowly forming. The nuance, the subtle implications of how Sheppard goes from 'can't afford to', 'can't stand still' to 'wanting to, but...' and just what was the emotional intonation behind when he says he will rest?
Don't think he missed how much of a lie such 'belief' was for Sheppard. And Elidibus knows well it is absolutely vital to believe there is an end to the seemingly endless task. Or at least a point to it all.
"Far be it for me to judge your sense of duty." It doesn't sound like there's any 'but' attached. He truly has no intention to judge it, provided he is not requested to do so.
Honestly if anything else, it's a commendable thing to find someone passionate about their duty. Elidibus tilts his head a moment.
"You may take the time you need to focus on why. Why can you not afford to rest? Why do you find yourself compelled to always be on the move?" The gentle, deep voice may lack the intimacy or compassion of friendship or close associates. But it is certainly made up for with a seemingly infinite store the patience his assurance promises.
"Even if you cannot find the answers today, you are welcome to call for me again when you finally find the truth of the matter."
Truly the man seems to be in no rush. Though Elidibus also knows that mortals tend to rush themselves so it is to his advantage to let them speak in their own time rather than push at the wrong one.
"You do wish to rest?" he then asks of Sheppard. "Does this mean you feel you cannot?" Subtly the emphasis seems to address that 'cannot' and 'will not' are two different matters without Elidibus needing to spell it out.
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His voice is wry, with his familiar, sarcastic drawl.
But he trails off, because those are really good questions.
"Because I can't afford not to. People are in danger. My friends are in danger. Every moment we stay in this world is another moment where things can get exponentially worse, plus my universe needs me..."
Maybe this will take a long time to work through.
Does he wish to rest?
Does he feel like he can't?
"I...don't know what I would do if everything just stopped," he admits. "If I could just...I don't know. Retire and run off with Rodney to a tropical island or something. I feel like I'd get bored with nothing to fight for but that also sounds...pretty nice." There's a long pause. "I want to go back to Atlantis with Rodney most of all. That's our home, that's where I want to spend time with him. Exploring the galaxy, being there in the city, that's the goal in all of this."
And if they can't go back home...he doesn't know what he will do. Even if people say that they can't, that the cost would be too great...plus he wouldn't dare risk bringing the Hunt or any other Entity over.
And yet a selfish part of him wonders how great the cost would be, anyway, to get home...
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"Would you have agreed to speak with me were the answers so easily unknotted?" If nothing else, Elidibus probably has the man's type pegged when it comes to therapy sharing. That is to say what's brewing underneath the surface is an iceberg metaphor waiting to dwarf the one thought to sink the Titanic.
If everything just stopped? Was that part of the question? Elidibus reflects on this, as well as the rest of Sheppard's answer. If it is all to be taken at face value then with the man's notions of rest focusing solely on what comes at duty's end, it would seem Sheppard may be moving beyond simply feeling like he can't rest (whether goaded by compulsion or not).
And is tipping dangerously near the edge of losing even the concept of it.
Elidibus next begins with a nod.
"I would be surprised if there were few of us who do not wish to return to their homes. Whether to be with the ones we cherish and the familiar routines of that life or 'retirement' as you put it. That point which we lay down the burden of duty or passed it to another and spend the time left to us in peaceful reflection."
Expecting him to offer hollow comfort, like 'at least Rodney's here'? Well he won't. He knows better. And besides, this is not about making Shep feel good about his predicament at the expense of another. It is about unearthing fears and weaknesses so they can be realized and buffered against what is out there waiting to exploit those cracks.
Mostly. Elidibus has a few ulterior motives here and there.
"Rather than dwell on the end of the path you have chosen for your journey, I'd like to address matters of the present with another question. If there were means and time to bring some sense of your home's 'normalcy' to this star and your current life, on what would you first focus these efforts?"
There is a moment's pause before he decides to add.
"For the moment, if you'll indulge me, I would like to hear of more personal choices than ones which would directly benefit another over your own needs and desires."
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The wry sarcasm is back, even for a moment.
But Elidibus’s question is…uncomfortable. He doesn’t know what to say at first, and lapses into silence.
“I don’t know, I think a lot of it can’t be brought here. I don’t feel at home on earth anymore, this earth counts as that. I wanna be out there, exploring.”
He goes silent a moment again.
“I guess the only thing that could make this place a little more bearable is maybe, somehow, the people. Teyla, Ronon, Carson…” he thinks of Elizabeth and it hurts. “Even people that we’ve lost. And while we’re at it, Atlantis itself for good measure. And a Puddle Jumper—the small ships we flew.”
A faint, longing smile on his face. Then it’s gone.
“Personal choices? What are those?” A weak laugh. “Flying again, mostly. Those Puddle Jumpers, a helicopter…surfing, dragging Rodney to play golf with me…”
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A faint excitement stirs in his chest and he wants to ask questions. He'd love to ask more... while his features don't show signs of the discord, one of his hands curl into a fist and tightens. He is not one to allow tells of his emotion to slip past unless he wishes to. This time is a rare exception and while he's quick to relax his fingers on noticing it, there's still a chance this was seen.
Elidibus continues as though nothing were amiss. "We both long for the familiar which is not here. Or what has been taken beyond our reach. I know little of these Puddle Jumpers. But helicopters, surfing, golf." He's done some reading up on the culture since his arrival. "These exist in some form or another. And your companion Rodney as well."
Of course this is obvious and the silver-haired man is not bringing it up to sound redundant.
"Of course some are easier to obtain than others," he begins. Of course flying a helicopter would probably not be easy to get permission to do with all the regulations this government has. Surfing? Requires adequate conditions for all they're on an ocean. Golfing with Rodney though, that one is certainly possible.
"A personal choice in this matter would be something that would be considered... selfish by most. At the very least would benefit you as much as it would anyone else who derived enjoyment from what you proposed." Elidibus shakes his head. "Forgive me. I've strayed too far from my query." Again with the faint smile.
"What runs through your mind if I were to suggest you take Rodney to spend a day at the nearest golf course?" Not 'you should do this'. Rather, what does Sheppard feel at the suggestion he can just... go do this.
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The fondness on Sheppard's face is evident, there in the way he talks about Rodney, in imagining some perfectly ordinary activities that don't involve horrible Entity-related disasters or arguing because of said horrible Entity-related disasters. The kind of all-encompassing fondness that's borne from someone who loves another very much.
John goes quiet a moment, staring at something that wasn't there, either forgetting Elidibus was in the room for a moment or just...drifting off.
Maybe he had forgotten how to have fun.
When was the last time he had any fun like this?
Could he even allow himself to? Could he even afford to 'take a day off' right now, as it were? This was war, wasn't it? In its own way, and if he let his guard down even once...
"This world sucks," he mutters, quite suddenly, brought back to the present.
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"Hmm." It is a noncommittal, accepting the opinion of the world without weighing his own.
"Yet it would seem then there is a possible outing the two of you could venture upon regardless of this star's difficulties." Golf might be easy to 'let' Rodney talk Sheppard into not bothering with. But RC cars seem to provide less reasons to delay the matter until 'after all this is done'.
"I have studied the history of this world. And even in its darkest moments of war and strife, there were moments of respite for mortal man. As this Earth is similar enough to the one you once dwelled on, I would hazard it was not absent there." Not when toy cars and golf were duly mentioned as favored pastimes.
"As once my colleagues would take the occasion to remind me, even the most important of work needs be balanced with a moment's rest. To recover one's fortitude and remember that which we strive so hard to achieve." Every word rings true. One might even daresay with a touch of sad fondness for times long gone.
"The future is unknowable, for each path taken leads to a myriad of possibility. The choice is ultimately yours whether to continue as you are or find another way. Yet I will offer a warning. The path you seem to have chosen comes with great cost. When the time comes, you must be ready to accept that those you had hoped to see again may have left. Or that you may not be able to follow."
If Sheppard declines the chance to rest and spend time with his loved ones now, he may well never be able to do so. And perhaps that is known. Elidibus is simply voicing the stark reality of it.
Farewell to Crab Arm Start! - Closed to Elidibus and Emet-Selch
So he can't believe he's going through with this.
But he's going through with this.
It's about time, he thinks, despite his misgivings about the possible...fallout from all this, since he knows all too-well what the consequences of magic is here in this world, but he also thinks that it will be worth it. And he's so used to causing fear at this point, what's a little more fear out in the general populace?
And it's becoming dangerous having a distinctly non-human part of himself, not when the glamour was so volatile, not when the being generating the glamour was so volatile.
Still, despite everything he's not entirely sure what to expect when it comes down to it. He's certainly never done this before, and this is beyond even the technology of the Ancients from his universe...actually no, this was probably exactly something they could do, they just never found the right lab for it. Or they could just, like, regrow his whole arm from scratch...
...either way having a crab arm in the first place in his original universe was an unlikely event anyway.
Unlikely, but not impossible.
Sheppard knocks on the door of Elidibus' and Emet-Selch's apartment, taking a deep breath, his body language suggesting that he was, in fact, quite nervous.
It's fine.
He's sure everything will be fine.
"It's me, Sheppard," he calls out, the loss of his first name still stinging every time he means to use it and just...can't.
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He knows that too well. He's lost too many people, knows exactly what it means when you put off that one last activity with them, that one last moment...
"You're right," he says quietly, something shining in his eyes. Unshed tears, maybe? He's thinking of the people's he's lost, like Elizabeth...if he had one more moment with her, with Ford...
"No, you're absolutely right. I need...I need a break. I've been fighting so hard, for so long, I almost forgot that those little moments are worth fighting for, too."
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But after a time they should move on. And there is a matter which has been dwelling in the back of Elidibus's mind, growing stronger in the various pauses given where Sheppard took a while to think of responses or choices in his life. Yet this session is about what the military man wishes to speak of. Or at least, making sure he isn't overwhelmed too much when it comes down to unpacking it all in one session.
"As for our meeting, were there any other matters you wished to address today?" Sheppard's desires on where conversation goes should be given priority. Even if, as far as the session is concerned, he decides to stop here.
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(Loosed properly, anyway, rather than the brief and fleeting attempts they'd made while feeling out what their combined powers could manage.)
That said, if Sheppard is hoping for the more familiar face of Elidibus answering the door, he will be disappointed, given that it is in fact Emet-Selch answering the door. On the other hand, today he looks quite entirely normal, apart from the almost perennially grumpy expression on his face. There's no glow of faintly eldritch magic about him, nor anything to suggest that he is ready to remove Sheppard's altered limb in full view of any passers-by.
Instead, there's a nod, as he holds the door open.
"Well, come on in, then."
Admittedly, he is not making any attempt to lessen any potential nervousness. But he can pick up on it all the same.
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Besides that, it looks so ordinary a task one would wonder if the feat that had been promised was... well, supposed to be done here. The cups are tucked onto a drying rack and hands wiped before the silver haired man joins the other two in the living space.
A glance around would earn a first impression of a well-kept apartment. Clean but not so perfect as to seem staged or unnatural. They definitely live here and there's a number of books (history, the supernatural myths, geography and occultism are foremost on shelves or resting on a side table). But if Sheppard happens to look more deeply into it, he might notice something nags. At least here in the common areas, it almost looks a little too normal, if one considers the two come from a world that certainly has some alien concepts they've let slip over the last few months.
As if the two men were frighteningly good at looking like they fit into and are willing to be part of the society they found themselves a part of.
"You have come at a good time. I trust you remember my colleague, Emet-Selch?" Elidibus has a soothing presence at least and does begin with introductions to smooth over his companion's more abrasive demeanor.
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"Thanks," he says idly as he passes by the first, moving into the living area and seeing the familiar face of Elidibus.
"Hey, yeah, I do." He finger-guns with his remaining human hand at them both, mostly out of the universally awkward feeling of entering someone else's home for the first time and just sort of taking in the place, while you're not sure what to do with your hands. The place seemed well-kept and aggressively normal, and he's not sure what to make of it. Maybe he doesn't need to make anything of it. Also maybe he's just really nervous because he's about to lose the crab arm, so...
"So..." he trails off, just as awkwardly. He swears he does have social skills. "Nice place. So is this where...it's gonna happen? I just kind of expected maybe a magic circle or some incense..."
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"Gotta keep some secrets for the next session, right?"
At least he hasn't been scared off to stop going all together...
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"Quite so." Ever the faint smile and a nod of acknowledgement, but no signs of getting up immediately. There's still something else.
"At the risk of ill manners, there is something I would like to propose. It is on the matter of your arm. That which must needs be hidden behind illusion in this society."
There will be a short pause, as though acknowledging that bringing this up is probably unsettling. Not really because Elidibus seems to ever so casually know it's there. After all it's not exactly the best kept secret. But because it would easily fall under 'something that needs intensive therapy sessions to probe'.
Yet what if...
"If you are willing, I have a means to provide you with a replacement. Something which, while not your original human arm, will be far more recognizable and capable of acting as such."
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Still, he's content enough to let Elidibus see to the actual pleasantries. Not that he wouldn't have been able to, if he had to. But he far prefers to not have to bother, when given the option. As such, he doesn't actually speak up again until Sheppard mentions magic circles and incense, at which point a scowl crosses his face.
"As if either of us would need to resort to such crude implements."
Their magic may be much reduced, yes. But that hardly means they need to resort to what Emet-Selch, at least, sees either as means by which to artificially boost their power or (less charitably) unnecessary pieces of stage dressing.
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"While sigils and ritual motions sometimes play a part in the magic we are accustomed to, the particular magicks we are availing ourselves of today have little need for them."
Perhaps when working in concert in some greater work to coordinate the effort. But for them, this level of creation needs no fanfare.
"Creation magicks are part of our birthright. They are a product of our will and ability to manipulate aether. Ordinarily, the concept of this arm and syncing it to you would be a trivial matter for one of us." Ah yes, trivial. Like people were he's from pop fully functional arms out of nowhere before breakfast.
"...Yet this star limits the power we may bring to bear alone. Thus one reason why I have asked my colleague to aid me in this endeavor. As well, Emet-Selch is more familiar with the fundamental principles of the concept itself."
Doesn't that explain so much? Elidibus will leave a moment for Sheppard to process what he said before continuing.
"As for the matter of medical procedures common to Earth, there will be no need for it. You may experience some disorientation, but there will be no pain, nor concern for contamination brought on by non-sterile conditions."
Elidibus then inclines his head.
"Though we discussed matters briefly before," a time in which without a doubt ELidibus would have warned of the known cons brought on by the Fears that serve as the patrons of the two (three), "you are welcome to voice any concerns and questions you may have.
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"Well, either way, I'll be glad to see this thing go," John says, steeling himself a little, letting his nerves be buried under his usual flippant attitude. Screaming on the inside is much better than the reverse.
"Trivial. Well, I hope I never get on either of you two's bad side."
...he means that in all seriousness. That's kind of terrifying.
"Okay...good. That's...pretty much all the questions I had, cause you know...the whole arm removal thing was...kind of a worry." He actually has like a thousand more questions but if he actually gets answers to them he'll probably second-guess his decision, so better to just go ahead and do it.
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"It is unlikely that you will."
Grumpy though Emet-Selch often is, he does at least try to be patient. Nor is he likely to aim his ire at those who have also been caught up in ADI's machinations, when he knows that they are (mostly) not to blame for the mayhem that is so commonplace, here. Nor do they have anything to do with the forces that have drawn both him and Elidibus into the mess.
"Assuming you have no inclination to try."
Which is, for good or for ill, the one thing Emet-Selch cannot easily account for.
"You may wish to close your eyes. The sight of what is to occur will doubtless prove unsettling."
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"It is as Emet-Selch says," he agrees. There's no need to worry about something unlikely to happen barring an intentional act to do it. Nor to dwell on it. The important warnings were given before, such as the curse of the Fears, and that this would be a permanent removal of Sheppard's true arm. Matters like that were brought up so he could truly think about his decision.
He may not appear eager, yet Elidibus does so want to move smoothly on to obtaining Sheppard's arm. Disorienting and unsettling may not calming words used to describe an upcoming procedure, but maybe it's better than 6 months recovery and physical therapy?
Also Shep's therapist is recommending it. That has to count for something.
A hand is raised and swept. It is not the start of what passes for an 'operation' itself, but the casting of an array of wards that will hinder if not completely block outside influence and interference. It would not do to be interrupted at an inopportune time with the ring of a phone, the honk of a horn or the passing wings of a bird.
There is a beauty to lines and crystalline colors laced together in the air about them before these images fade from physical view. The change in the environment- now bereft of sounds other than those made by the three inside- which settles after is not claustrophobic, but one of a peaceful sanctum.
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That gets a brief, wide-eyed look of mild, suspicious fear from John at the first part-he makes a mental note to never, ever get on their bad side-and the second, well.
“I know I probably shouldn’t look, but I kinda also wanna know what you’re doing to my arm, so. I’ll just deal with the nightmares later.”
A pleasant, tight smile.
He really hopes he’s not going to regret this.
The light display from Elidibus is pretty, however brief, and the quiet that falls after is both peaceful and unsettling.
Nice. So now when this all goes horribly, horribly wrong, no one can hear him scream. Fantastic.
“Magic operating room?” Sheppard raised his eyebrows, but mostly as a joke, mostly because if he doesn’t joke he might just scream quietly to himself. If anyone wants to fear-feed off of John, he’s a buffet right now.
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John shifts, feeling the usual weight and annoyance of his crab arm suddenly now that it’s mentioned.
“What?”
It’s like a thought plucked from his mind. It had been getting more and more dangerous to have anything visibly non-human about him, and while he had been lucky with his hunt abilities—his feline traits and abilities were happily and easily hidden when he was well and could concentrate, he could do nothing for the crab arm except get a really big coat if and when the glamour was glitching out.
“You can…you can do that? How?”
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"I'll understand if the concept is unfamiliar to you. My people are very proficient in magic. In addition we can manipulate aether, a rich energy abundant in all living stars, to will our desires into creation."
He offers this gently, quite aware of how it is probably something... alarming to the average person of this world. It wasn't even normal for mortals back home.
"Lest you misunderstand," Elidibus then adds as if this is going to make it better. "We possess a mere fraction of this birthright on Earth. Both by the limits of power we can draw from and our captors' shackles. But an arm, made with the concept of the technologies which have existed on our star, would be possible."
Especially now that it's a bit easier to openly use magic, thanks to the ADI's edict on generating fear from... well, bad people who apparently deserve it.
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It's just, that sounds like magic to him. But he's intrigued. And not even all that bothered. He's so used to feeding at this point, the necessary fear that needed to be generated doesn't bother him. It's fine.
"Wait, technologies? You use magic and technology?"
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Elidibus won't trouble Sheppard with the details unless asked. Because they are complicated even when you don't throw in the curve ball of having lived through the rise and fall of ten to twelve thousand years of mortal civilization. Though he does seem to pause and perhaps compare the two briefly before speaking again.
"While there are many advantages to the blend of magic and technology not achieved or possible here, I would not claim it isn't to be admired nor particularly lacking. Circumstances aside, I have enjoyed having the opportunity to learn about it. But I digress."
Yes, back to the matter at hand before they go down a rabbit hole of comparing tech and magic and magitek.
"Regardless, there will be benefits. But also problems I must warn you of so you may make the choice cognizant of the price that will be paid."
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Instead, there's simply a nod at Sheppard's decision to keep his eyes up.
"As you will."
It's hardly any concern of Emet-Selch's after all, and he will not be the one to deal with anything that might result from the decision. And though there is the briefest of nods to Elidibus as the feeling of the wards settled around them he offers little else, save, perhaps, to stop and answer Sheppard's question about them.
"In a manner of speaking. It will serve to minimize distractions while we work."
The fear gently wafting off of Sheppard is ignored for the time being as Emet-Selch instead turns to Elidibus.
"If you are capable of seeing to the matter of removal on your own, I shall see to beginning the creation of the replacement."
And indeed, Sheppard may be able to pick up on a background hum of power rising, as Emet-Selch begins to call on his own magic - magic that is, for now, unfocused until such time as he knows whether or not Elidibus will require it for this step. Though if he should, Emet-Selch will be more than glad to give it.
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If either were to be lessened by being able to watch in the man's mind, then who are either of them to protest. He adds what might be taken as a reassurance about the wards he had just cast.
"It will prevent accidental intrusion and interruption. Yet it does not entrap us within. You are free to leave when or should you wish." Indeed if there's any instinct among Sheppard's Hunt instincts, both the words and the sense to the surroundings ring true. There is no sense that the spells prevent escape.
As for the fear? All is welcome, particularly as it can be harnessed however slight, however pale to fuel what they are about to achieve. Elidibus won't miss the opportunity, even if he has to resist the temptation to further it.
He must remember the true goal. Thus briskly and with Emet-Selch's query a perfectly timed distraction to turn to, the silver haired man focuses on Sheppard. His head tilts in thought.
"Nothing has changed from my original estimation," Elidibus finally answers. He lifts his hand again and begins to gather his own magic. Two quite similar forms of magic, yet patroned by two very different Fears. It may add a soft hum of discordance at first.
"I will take the afflicted arm, then I will join the rest of my magicks to your efforts," he assures his colleague. To Sheppard, Elidibus offers a word of advice.
"Brace yourself. You will likely experience some vertigo and discomfort." Apparently aside from the mental shock of literally seeing your arm chopped off with magic. An act which seems to only need a casually outstretched hand to gather his magic into a defined spell.
This time it seems a simple light that coalesces into visual representation of the magic and much more opaque than the transulcent wards of earlier. Predominately white, someone looking closely with the dubious privilege of being able to see what's about to happen might notice traces of a green like spring grass and a blue closer to tropical waters as the shallows give way to depths.
Elidibus, who carries himself with the demeanor of someone doing nothing more than making a vague gesture with his hand, does give Sheppard a bit of time to brace as suggested... or flee the room if all's to be honest. But should he stay then the globe of light makes the journey from its starting point to the precise location where the transformation of the man's arm halted and humanity remained. It forms a band and settles in place. It cannot be... felt, exactly. Not like a pressure or something that triggers a sense of touch. But there is something akin to stillness, coupled by just a hint of sharp and finally soothing ever so fleeting.
There won't be any sense of constriction. Not even that numb tug one might expect from nerve-numbed flesh being severed. A strange sense of... unravelling (to be sure there is no trace of the transformed flesh at its very root left to corrupt and hinder) at the area between human and crab. The glowing light flows town to encompass the arm like a shell. And then, as abruptly as a light switch, the weight and balance of it being simply gone is thrust upon Sheppard not unlike a sense vertigo.
With just a brief flick from Elidibus, the crab appendage is then surrounded by what appears to be purplish chains constructed of energy - one must be careful to seal away such dubious curses- before disappearing. Stored away for... later.
"All is in order," Elidibus says to Emet-Selch. He is ready to join his remaining power with his colleague's for the creation magicks.
Earlier, the two powers, two different Fears, seemed at first discordant. Such would make sense, no? The Eye and its hunger for knowledge. The Dark, which might well manifest as fearing what knowledge may lie within it. But whether some practice, the familiarity the two have for one another or a mixture of both the two powers have blended together. Now?
As if never at odds, it hums in the background, a subtle siren's song of the dark Abyss which holds rich and tantalizing knowledge to be claimed at its darkest and most terrifying depths.
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Other than a slight nod at both Emet-Selch and Elidibus, he’s silent from the beginning, his eyes wide, his breathing just this side of rapid, evidence of the fear that burns within. But he’s a soldier through and through and he knows how to handle being afraid, knows how to deal with it.
Though there’s nothing in his training or experience that can prepare him for this.
Despite everything that’s happened to him, despite magic being, well, normal now, despite being a Hunt Avatar, seeing magic used like this is fascinating. Shocking. Scary.
Kinda cool.
His eyes are wide as the glowing globe of light forms a band and…there’s a sensation.
It’s weird.
It’s not pain exactly, but he gasps a little anyway, the sensation so strange it’s like he doesn’t know how to react to it. A stillness, a sharpness, a soothing, and then an unraveling.
And then the weight of it is quite suddenly gone.
He does feel a weird sort of sudden vertigo, almost making him sway but he doesn’t dare move in case he messes something up and loses a shoulder, too.
The crab arm is wrapped in a magical ribbon and then…it’s gone.
John looks down in numb horror as he sees…nothing, where his arm should be. He thought he was prepared for seeing it, feeling it…despite knowing that a new arm is being readied, but when faced with the reality, well.
There’s a visceral, instinctive repulsion at the sight of it not being there, and the numbness of it not being there—
If anyone is snacking on his fear right now, they probably just got the all you can eat buffet.
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Instead, he turns to his own, the background hum of his own Dark-fueled powers rising as he turns his thoughts to the creations of centuries ago. Reaches back past memories of the flawed echoes he had seen recreated in the technology of Garlemald to long-forgotten Allag, and their miracles of technology melded to flesh.
It looks like nothing, at first. Merely a sense of power coming from Emet-Selch's direction as he pulls holds the concept firm in his mind. (Metal, wrought thin, to serve as skin. A network of cables, to serve as muscles and to carry the signal that would otherwise have animated a natural arm. Joints, at both elbow and each of the fingers, mechanical in nature though otherwise the equal of any flesh-and-bone hand.) One that - as described - might well sound almost impossible to manage, and yet there is no outward sign of difficulty or strain in Emet-Selch's expression. Instead, he merely glances over at Sheppard before adjusting the concept he holds in his mind such that it is more in keeping with the man's natural arm.
And there he holds it, power and concept both held in readiness until Elidibus' signal.
It's only after the crab arm falls away and Elidibus seals it that anything happens. There's a brief nod at Elidibus' words and then Emet-Selch reaches out to join their power together. It's a sudden thing, too, the Eye and the Dark harmonizing into one eerily single note of the knowledge in the darkness depths, of the knowledge that surely must be waiting in those fathomless depths and then barely as soon as Sheppard has had time to react to the sudden loss of his arm than something else is there.
An arm, real and solid, for all that it is very clearly not one of flesh and blood. An impossible arm, and yet one that is, the fact only barely given enough time to be recognized before the magic brushes against where the crab arm has only recently been.
It is not a comfortable feeling, as a chill like unto the darkest depths of the void brush against Sheppard's shoulder. And yet there is no pain. Only that crawling chill, as the magic seeks out the nerves it is to connect to. The sharp almost-sting of nerves being relit, pricking across flesh as the arm anchors itself, tendrils of metal sinking into his skin as painlessly as everything else.
And then... it is done, and with one last dramatic flourish (and a quick tug on the fear Sheppard has so kindly offered) Emet-Selch covers the attachment point and the tendrils both with one last covering of the same metal 'skin' as the rest. No sense in not at least making some after to keep it aesthetically clean.
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Well there is the matter of seeking to coax the Fear that empowers his gifts here into something... hmm, harmonious? Useful to an end? But there's really only so much of that he could hope to influence. Particularly with two other patron Fears at play.
Think of it more like purposefully suggesting a way to manifest that the Fear itself would find agreeable as well. Nothing at all sinister here. And certainly not within Elidibus's control as to whether he'd ultimately succeed.
In the end, the arm is certainly not one of flesh and blood. It is definitely metal, with a light tracing lines as if there were some power source deep within. Yet it doesn't seem cold by any means. Nor does it weigh too heavily. Perhaps some of this is because of the presence of sensation that seems communicated as well as Sheppard's other human arm.
Sure, one might notice a difference if one were to focus but it's not extreme.
And it is possible that the weight of the crab arm that was there for months is throwing off estimation of what this new artificial arm should feel like in comparison but....
Metal - and yes touching it with human fingers would definitely indicate it's metal of some kind - shouldn't be this light.
Nor should it illicit a sensation of feeling any fingers Sheppard tries to poke at it, if such is his inclination. But it is light. It feels very nearly natural. And it will provide sensation.
Elidibus is looking at the newly constructed limb as though stepping back to inspect the overall look of a newly finished craft, rather than a fully working appendage literally conjured into existence with a thought. It may also be worth noting that the whole process, from removal of the former limb to conjuration and attachment of the new, may have taken about five minutes, tops.
He nods and there's a moment of satisfaction.
"Given our restrictions, I'm inclined to believe we could not expect a more favorable outcome," he says to Emet-Selch. Almost cheerfully -and really he's pleased enough with the results- Elidibus then asks a question of Sheppard.
"Does aught seem amiss with it?" There's even a tiny smile permitted.
...
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It takes all his training and experience not to jolt when it happens, when he scarcely has time to process that he’s missing an arm when there is another arm there, but nothing like his original arm nor his crab arm.
It’s the strangest sensation, coupled with what it looks like—it looks cool, honestly, like if he had to choose what a techno-magical arm would look like, this would be it, but the sensations, the chill that drains all heat from him, the prickles, the…tendrils sinking into his skin.
It should hurt. It feels impossible that it doesn’t, like it’s breaking the rules of reality and nature. A gasp escapes him, involuntarily, as much as he wants to squirm away he doesn’t and instead grips his other hand into his leg.
And then it’s done.
And there’s sensation.
John just stares at it, his brain feeling strange, trying to grasp the transition from crab arm to no arm to metal arm all in one go.
“That was…really fast,” he finally says, finding his voice, after licking his lips.
“No, it…it’s perfect. It’s…light.”
He tries to move it upwards a couple of inches and it does, and while expected, it still feels kind of shocking, like his brain is still adjusting to the nerve input, to the lack of the heavy crab arm, to the humanoid shape. He flexes the fingers, and they move just fine.
“This is…” his voice goes dry again. “Wow.”
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Still, it is an arm, and with the spellcraft done, Emet-Selch allows himself to relax slightly. The wards he will leave to Elidibus to take down, though, given that they were his to begin with.
"As it should have been. That is what creation magics are. Creating something using little more than the power of one's mind to shape the aether into the desired form."
It requires rather a lot of aether, of course. But that is something that Emet-Selch feels is rather less important to dwell on.
"And of course it is light. The Allagans who first pioneered the technology would have demanded naught less, and it is from their designs this springs."
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Well maybe 'normal' is a strong word. But still.
"It is meant to function as an arm should," he says, backing up Emet-Selch's comments. "There will be some small differences as the technology is not of this star. It will recover from small cuts and injuries, much as a flesh and blood arm would." That is to say something you could put a bandaid over or maybe a few stitches in? It'll repair over time.
"And to a degree, it will spare you pain and discomfort. As for more considerable damage, it is likely you would have to turn to us for proper repair. Or at least to procure the materials needed to keep it in the condition it is now."
Sure, what's not being said is that it's going to be much harder to get to that level (honestly supernaturally so by this world's standards) but that's a good thing considering any 'need to be created' materials, if their magics can't 'heal' it, would probably make it even more cursed.
Surely though other than that and its appearance, it'll be a perfectly normal arm! Right?
[ By Etheirys standards. ]
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Now that the more...disconcerting, and dare he say, possibly scary part is over, he's finally allowed himself to relax and actually enjoy what he's been given.
Like, he kind of hated magic before? But this right here? This is cool magic.
"I can't believe that it can just repair itself like that." Sheppard taps on the surface with his other hand, running up and down the side, marveling at it.
This is so much better than his crab arm.
And will probably be a perfectly normal arm with no problems.
Except this is this world and nothing comes without strings here.
His jubilant attitude falters a moment.
"You think there'll be a price? I mean, besides the fear you obviously used to create this." He hopes that's all it'll be. The arm seems innocuous enough, what kind of trouble could he get from the arm? Pain, maybe? He can deal with that. Needing to feed on fear more? Annoying, but he can do that, too.