Offtopic: Continued, loosely, from Die Andenken aus Uns, Reprise.

When they awoke, the Memories found themselves the subject of sudden pains and absolute disorientation. and the feeling of urgency hadn't been blanketed by the night-- wait, night?

Attis could recall little of what happened. All he knew was that he was in pain, but he wasn't wounded. Nothing on his body was torn or tattered, but he felt like it should have been. He felt like he should be there, in pieces, with everyone else just as bad off. His head ached, and every muscle in his body was screaming at him. Worst of all, he couldn't recall it being nighttime. The last time he checked, it was morning. Somehow, they lost almost an entire day of their life.

Recheov, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered by it at all. He had simply sat up from the ground and stretched his arms out, yawning like he did any other day. Seemingly random aches and pains, on top of disorienting broken memories, were probably a day in the life of that man.

Much of it was confounding. The pains and the loss of time, and why they were laid out just beyond town, was just the beginning, though. For some reason, Dyss had a sword. Attis couldn't remember him ever owning a weapon of any sort, but he did. It was upon the ground next to him, and by the way his arm was laid out, it looked like he had been holding it before he collapsed face first into the ground.

Yet that didn't feel as important as it should have. Attis dragged himself up to his feet and didn't both dusting himself off. His white suit was dirty, as expected, but that didn't matter, either.

Milos wasn't there; he'd gone out earlier that day to a town just north of Galaens, a little village called Hillcrest. Upon a shorthanded glance back, it looked like others were in a similar condition, leaving their houses with limps and odd looks. Milos was fortunate to be absent, but then again . . .

"Is . . . everyone okay . . .?" Attis asked as he, too, got his bearings back.

Dyss moved his arms slightly, an indication that he was awake, though he didn't pull himself up to look around. He had sight again, but it was of the sort that he had always known: the sourceless perception of light all around him that gradually faded off into noise on all sides. Without even thinking about it, he would reach forward and hold the sword, gradually pushing himself up before pausing as huge amounts of pain seemed to wash over him...

"Attis? What happened...?"

Dyss would extend his senses outward, trying to sense if there was anyone or anything nearby, but was unsure what to expect. What had happened? He really had no idea...

Dyss was up. That was good. So was Recheov. Recheov wasn't saying anything; it was like a morning routine to him. He was checking his teeth to make sure none had been mysteriously knocked out. Stranger things had actually happened. One morning, here in Galaens, he had woke up to find a knife still lodged in his side. Apparently he had gotten into a brawl in a bar the night prior and one of the people had been carrying a knife--and throughout the whole thing, Recheov just didn't notice. He likewise had no recollection of the fight--but since this was frequent with him, this moment didn't seem all that strange. In fact, the only thing that seemed strange to him was the very fact that, despite hurting all over, he hadn't lost a tooth or anything.

Attis knelt by Illorex's side. First and foremost, Attis checked his pulse. All was well there. He turned Illorex from his side to his back. The man was breathing, and all his vitals seemed perfectly fine, but he wasn't waking up. More than likely, he had suffered a concussion of some sort . . .

But why?

"I-- I'm not sure," Attis replied.

For once, he didn't have the slightest hint of an answer. The only clue he had, really, was that the citizens of Galaens were all waking up from what seemed like a horrible dream, too.

"But it seems it happened to everyone . . ."

Dyss was glad the others were allright, and he pushed himself up slowly, using the sword for balance as he stood. He could still walk, he just didn't particularly want to... Milos was out. He wasn't in the city. But Izumi was...

"Attis? I want to go check on Izumi..."

Attis was still the leader of the group, if unofficially, and Dyss wasn't going to go running off for no reason. If Attis could use his help, he would stay until the first possible moment. The way they were so beaten up, though... And they were somewhat tougher than the normal people of the city...

"Soon, if possible..."

Attis could understand the sentiment. If Milos were in trouble, he'd want to go check on him just the same. Vested emotional interests were always the most important in times of crisis.

Speaking of . . .

Attis had it in mind that they should go to Hillcrest sometime soon, too. Like Dyss was worried about Izumi, Attis was worried about Milos. Unlike Izumi, though, Milos was tough. Nigh destructible, in the most literal of senses. At worst, he might be hurt, but that was still a cause for concern. Milos didn't feel pain enough to take it well.

"All right--lead the way, Dyss," Attis replied with a stern nod, before shifting his attention to Recheov, "Recheov, can you help me with Illorex? We can't leave him out here."

Recheov rubbed his eyes again. "Oi? Wot?"

"Recheov, please . . ."

Tiredly, Recheov pulled himself up. The aches and pains didn't seem to be effecting him at all. He didn't even walk with the slightest hint of a lip. "Foine, wotever. oI'll take 'is legs."

Attis nodded, and put his arms under Illorex's armpits, and lifted him up from there, while Recheov took his legs and lifted him just the same. Attis glanced back to Dyss, expecting him to lead the way back to Izumi's now that they had Illorex.

Dyss nodded, picking up a short scrap of cloth and wrapping it around the sword, carrying it across his arms in a somewhat disguised way. Weapons weren't extremely common, especially to carry without a scabbard or anything like his... And he didn't truly expect to fight. The handle was wrapped loosely, though, and he could use it fairly quickly, even if still wrapped...

"Sure. It's this way..."

Dyss was quick to pick up directions, now that he had his sight back. After all, when you could effectively see the entire city, including your position, from above, it was easy to find your way around. In fact, once they got a little closer, Dyss would be able to check on Izumi likely without even having to enter her home...

"Y'know, 'e really don't look that 'eavy," Recheov remarked with the slightest hint of a groan, "Fuckin' twiggy motherfucker-- but wot the 'ell? Fucker feels loike 'e weighs more'an any of us . . ."

Which was true to an extent. Illorex was a fairly skinny individual. He didn't have much muscle on him, nor much fat content, but just trying to pick him up entailed trying to live multiple hundreds of pounds--at least, that's how it felt. Even more contradictory was that the thin body fell as lightly as someone who was underweight for his height.

Attis didn't say anything about it. He and Recheov both knew why Recheov, who should have weighed one-hundred-forty pounds had the effect of almost ten of himself, when one tried to lift him. The reason didn't need to be stated. Now wasn't the time.

Izumi was just waking up. She was within her apartment, huddled up in the corner of her room, hugging her knees to her chest. Izumi was still in her work clothes, though they seemed a little dirtier than usual. She was just lifting her forehead from where she had it practically implanted into her forearms. She was almost stiff as a board. As Dyss couldn't hear what she was saying at such a distance, he wouldn't understand what she was calling out when she pulled herself up. There was no one else in the house, and it seemed that's what had the girl frightened the most.

"Izumi! It's Dyss!"

Dyss would pound on the door, yelling to the girl, trying to make sure he could be heard despite the stairs between them. That in itself was a new experience; this was the first time he'd ever been at the home and she didn't know he was there, after all...

"Are you okay!?"

Dyss could see her huddled when he focused, but of course couldn't say how she felt... None of them seemed to have any appreciable wounds, after all, though from the way his head and body pulsed in unison with his pounding on the door, somethign had happened to him, along with everyone else...

At first, Izumi recoiled. A banging on the door frightened her, and while standing, she thrust herself back into the corner once again. Once she recognized the voice, though . . .

Izumi slowly stepped away from the corner. Not four steps in, she nearly fell over, and though Dyss wouldn't hear it, he would certainly see her wince in pain. But despite this, she reached for her dresser and pulled herself up. She simply couldn't walk fast. If she did, she was bound to fall. It seemed she was in as bad of shape as everyone else. More than likely, it was universal. No one seemed injured at all, but they all certainly felt as if they had been.

She leaned hard against the wall of the staircase and took it one step at a time. As she came closer, sound would catch up with sight, and on the other side of the door, Dyss would be able to hear the creeks of the stairs as she walked.

And inevitably, she reached the door. Gently, it swung open, but only because she felt weakness throughout her body. Had she been in tip-top shape, she'd have slammed the door open, but the end result was the same. A trembling, pained Izumi stood in the door, barely able to stand on her own.

"Dyss . . ." she whispered--

--and both leaned and fell into him, throwing her arms around his shoulders in a relieved embrace that, if Izumi had her way, would have lasted a lifetime.

Dyss would drop the sword onto his feet, still wrapped, and put both arms around Izumi as she fell forward. Dyss wasn't particularly large, but of course, neither was Izumi...

"Good... I'm glad you're okay..."

Dyss would hold Izumi in the doorway, not really concerned with anything else that was going on, glad that she was okay. There was... Well, not much they could do, apparently. Nothing about the situation made sense. One thing was sure, though: Dyss wanted Izumi with him for the foreseeable future. Even just standing in the doorway holding her felt good...

"Let's all sit down, though..."

The next worry was finding Milos and making sure he was okay. They certainly couldn't carry Illorex to the next town, though...

"I-- I'm glad . . . too-- that-- that you're okay," Izumi whispered, so thankful that Dyss was alive and well.

For some reason, when she opened her eyes just moments ago, she had an overwhelming sense of dread-- fear not for her own life, but for Dyss's. It was unexplainable, irrational even, to feel it, but she had genuinely felt that Dyss was dead. Now, she knew he wasn't. It was perhaps the greatest relief of her life.

When Dyss released her, it was all right. She pulled back a little from him, too, but still held onto his shirt. Really, it was just comforting to be standing in front of him--and doubly so to have her hands on him. That meant he was real, and that this wasn't a dream. But it seemed Dyss had his own fair share of problems, one of which was behind him, in the form of an unconscious companion. Recheov and Attis were still carrying Illorex, and by this point, the both of them were far too fatigued to do it for much longer.

"U-um, y-yes-- um! Please, please-- come in!" Izumi moved to stand with her back flat against the wall, so everyone could get through without her being in the way.

"Thank you..."

Dyss would step inside slightly, his feet pushing the sword away, then lean forward as Izumi held his shirt, instinctively even if not pulled. Dyss would throw his hands forward to brace himself on the wall behind Izumi, but would still wind up mere inches from Izumi with both his face and body, his wrists touching her hips as his hands were pressed against the wall...

"...And now we're together..."

Dyss wouldn't move as the others presumably moved behind him to enter the room. Everyone was tired, and not moving particularly fast, and honestly... Dyss didn't want to move...

When Dyss leaned in, Izumi was noticeably surprised--for a brief moment. She had tensed up for a fraction of a second, but completely relaxed almost immediately thereafter. Dyss was . . . he was . . . holding her. It wasn't like a hug--no, he had his hands on her hips, and was standing in close to her, and using this relieved and affectionate voice and-- and-- and--

Izumi's heart skipped a couple of beats as she stared up at Dyss's face. She couldn't see his eyes with his blindfold on, but he still knew when she was staring at him. He had a gift for that. He could see anything, if he really wanted to. It was a power-- a power, like everyone he knew seemed to have. At first, when she finally learned of it, she should have been scared, but she wasn't. Rather, she was curious-- but Izumi never did learn exactly what Attis and Illorex could do. Illorex was kept a well guarded secret, and Attis . . . well, not even any of his closest friends knew what he could do.

She lifted her hand up, trailing up from his chest, and setting upon his cheek. It was almost like . . . it was almost like he-- like he wanted to lean in-- and-- and maybe she wanted to lean in, too, and maybe she started to, unconsciously, without even realizing it . . .

"oI, lovebirds!" Recheov called to Dyss and Izumi to get them out of the momentary trance they'd found themselves in, "Moind puttin' the show off for a tic?"

Attis agreed, although he was much more respectful about it than Recheov, "Yes-- please, we-- we really need t-to . . . get Illorex to a bed or-- or something."

"You 'ave no bloody oidea jus' 'ow 'eavy this sonofabitch is."

Izumi pulled away from Dyss just a few inches, and peered around him. Indeed, they were carrying Illorex, and she and Dyss were pretty much standing in the doorway. Likely, Dyss would at least need to go upstairs before Recheov and Attis could get through. Izumi could remain standing flat against the wall and not be in the way, and then she'd be able to close the door behind everyone.

"O-oh! I-- I-- um, I'm terribly sorry!" Izumi explained upon coming to that realization, before looking up to Dyss's face with an embarrassed smile across her lips.

"Oh..."

Dyss's voice was one of disappointment, though it was difficult to say exactly why. It was a strange feeling, to be sure... And one he wanted to experience again. Planned to experience again. Without Recheov around. Definitely when Recheov was not around...

He didn't say anything further, but his smile would mirror Izumi's as he broke away as well, trailing his hand along her waist reflexively as he started to walk up the stairs. He didn't need help any more, which was definitely a good change. Upstairs, he would reflexively go to the room he had spent so much time in, waiting for the others to proceed up as well, his mind wandering to good things, for a change...

Once Dyss was upstairs, Attis and Recheov started carrying Illorex forward, past Izumi, and then up the stairs. Slowly. Very, very slowly. Both men grunted with each step, and it took seconds sometimes just to get as far as one step.

"Is-- um . . . is . . . . is he going to be okay?" Izumi asked as she watched Attis and Recheov carry Illorex up the stairs.

She was genuinely confused about it, too. She saw Illorex as someone who made her look chunky. Izumi wasn't stick thin, but she was in no way overweight, or even close to it. Illorex, though-- the man made her self conscious. He was stick thin. She'd seen him without a[n awkward] shirt on, and he looked decidedly underweight, enough to make her feel a little bad about her own appearance. He should've been a good twenty or thirty pounds underweight, even! Yet, Attis and Recheov were having such trouble carrying him up the stairs.

"Y-yes . . ." Attis strained to reply, "H-he'll . . . he'll be . . ." one . . . more . . . step . . . He got to the final step, cleared it, and stammered in relief: "fine."

"Whew!" Recheov howled as they stood at the top of the staircase, "All roigh', where we droppin' 'im off?"

"Y-you, um-- you-- you can put him in Dyss's bed!" Izumi cried up to them from the bottom of the stairs. She hoped Dyss wouldn't mind, but it was an impromptu decision, and if they were all going to sit around somewhere, they were better off to do it in her room, where there was enough space--and Illorex laying in her bed, unconscious, would've reduced the space they could have.

"Okay-- just . . . just ten feet left. Are-- are-- you . . . are you still with me, Recheov?" Really, Attis was just talking to give himself a boost. It wouldn't have even mattered if Recheov replied.

"Buddy, oI'm loike ten toimes better off'an you," Recheov replied with a grunt. He was exasperated, too, but not nearly as bad.

They took it slow, and eventually got Illorex to a position where they could dump him on Dyss's bed--and they did in a heartbeat. The bed didn't collapse or cave in. It didn't react the same as if it were a person carrying Illorex. It seemed as if it were only carrying one-hundred-forty pounds.

Without a word, the two men moved on, simultaneously deciding it was best to adjourn to Izumi's room, where there were a couple of a chairs and a bed. Neither took the bed. Recheov sat calmly and let out a sigh, while Attis damn near collapsed into the chair next to him. His face was red and breathing heavy. His red hair was matted with sweat, and he leaned his head, and his whole body, back in the chair. He didn't have nearly the amount of stamina that Recheov had.

Izumi had waited for everyone else to go upstairs first, before she closed the door and limped her way up as well. The sight in her room was of two physically exhausted men that looked like they were going to have a heat stroke at any minute.

"A-are . . . are you, um-- are you going to be okay, Attis . . .?" Izumi whispered as she stood in her doorway.

Attis slowly nodded, before requesting breathlessly, "Miss-- Miss Izumi-- could . . . you bring me a glass of water, please?"

"Y-yes! Of course!" Izumi replied promptly as she turned hastily and limped to her kitchen.