A Camp in Northern Glacia, Friday Night Fandom Time

[apocalipped]

To say that Jonothon felt like hell would have been a gross understatement. He'd been to plenty of places that could very well be described as 'hell,' and the way he'd been feeling since he came to after Karla's sleep spell was something well and truly beyond all of that

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[heromaniac]

"Psst, Jono?" That voice coming from under the bed? Totally Momoko.

Don't ask how she got there, okay?

"Is the coast clear?" She poked her head out to look, too, just in case he was asleep or something. "No healers, no medics?"

[apocalipped]

"Until th'next time I so much as roll over and they dogpile on top of me again," Jono murmured, glancing downward, an eyebrow raised.

... No, it was best if he didn't ask how she got there. It really was.

"They taking to cutting down on my visitors until I agree not to move around so bloody much?"

[heromaniac]

"I think it's just me? Maybe any of your men?" She crawled out, then reached back under the bed to pull out a small bag. Standing finally, she gave him a V-sign and a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. "They caught me trying to sneak stuff in to you! Three times!"

She reached into the bag, "I brought you more of my dad's books on war tactics from the old days, copies of my reports from the southern campaign, my police notebook and pencil (they're small so you can probably hide them, right?)..."

She pulled the items out of the bag to show him. "And some other handwavy fun stuff you can probably use... At least until they get confiscated." She made a face in the direction the Healers had gone. "I know how boring it is being wounded."

[apocalipped]

Momoko was officially Jonothon's most favourite person in the camp right now. Hands-down. He almost managed a smile.

"It's not even just th'boredom," he admitted, sitting up and leaning forward a little to get a better look at what she'd brought. "It's... being useless. It's not being able to help anyone, or anything."

He wrinkled his nose.

"I think one Healer burned my map."

[heromaniac]

"No way!" Momoko frowned as she set the bag beside him. "I didn't put any in here, but in my reports I describe some of the areas we walked through?"

She took a seat, pulling close to him. "The uselessness I can't help with either, sorry. I can give you a report of what's happening out there, but you won't like it."

[apocalipped]

"I'm not expecting to like it," Jono pointed out. "I didn't come here to enjoy myself. If you can tell me what's going on out there, I'd appreciate it."

[heromaniac]

Momoko's smile became a bit weaker as she leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. "Lots of the Blood who survived were injured. Psychically. In fights with each other... self inflicted. They basically went crazy? So even though we've moved away from contaminated land, there's lots of people trying to come back from that."

"Most of the work is still being done by Landens. They're even handling the, uh, clean up and funeral work? A few of the better Blood helping, of course."

"Regular drills and sparring are back on the menu, just in case, too." She shrugged lightly. "I am thinking of asking if I can send runners out to your posts to check on everyone."

To make sure this wasn't happening elsewhere as well as to get a fresh headcount...

[apocalipped]

"Please do," Jono murmured. "What happened here was clearly an attempt to lure us in and take us down. With other posts doing th'same thing across the North... There's no telling how many more fields of witchblood there are out there, is there?"

[heromaniac]

"Exactly! I'll send Landen runners, then. Just to be safe. They can at least pass on the warning to look twice at anything that seems too easy."

Momoko took a moment. "Apparently witchblood only grows where murdered witches are buried in secret. That means there was a mass murder here. Or at least a mass burial."

[apocalipped]

"Probably one of many across the territory," Jonothon sighed, nodding. It was horrifying to hear, but at the same time, he didn't seem terribly surprised. "Those who raised their voices against Hobart, I'd wager. Anyone who didn't swear fealty or escape to Haven."

[heromaniac]

"Boo." She reached out to give him a soft nudge. "You were supposed to say something encouraging, Admiral. Like, 'oh, Momoko, that sort of thing could never happen!'"

What? A girl could dream.

"So should I send pictures of the flowers with the runners or something?"

[apocalipped]

"If you can find any that didn't burn, that might be for the best," Jono replied, frowning thoughtfully. "Not everybody might know what witchblood looks like, even if they know what it is."

There was a pause, and then he took another stab at giving her a smile. It fell short too, but it was better than nothing.

"You know, my troops call me General, you call me Admiral... It's getting difficult to remember which unwanted rank I'm holding now." There was a moment's pause, and then, completely because he was a terrible person, he added, "If I'm an Admiral, though, I'm going to need an appropriate hat."

[heromaniac]

"Someone said something about a book that mentioned them, too. I can write up a small warning poster or something."

"Bringing so many home like you did, you're lucky I don't give you another promotion." Momoko sat back a little, feeling better for seeing that smile on him. "You want me to tell my dad? He's totally a military otaku. I bet he's already designed a full uniform for you."

She wasn't giggling, not at all. You must be delirious, Jono.

[apocalipped]

"Good." Jonothon nodded. "A poster is at least something."

There was something about that delirium-fuelled giggle that had him relaxing a little bit more.

"If I keep getting promotions at this rate, I'll be Prime Minister soon enough," he noted. "Good. I've always wondered what it would be like if people actually listened to me."

Dream on, Jon.

[heromaniac]

"I always listen to you," Momoko stuck her tongue out at him, still giggling. "I just don't always obey. And you'd better not complain or I'll point to the bag of work I snuck in here against orders and totally give you the big sad wibbly eyes."

[apocalipped]

"My one true weakness?" Jono actually took a moment to strike a pose, putting the back of one hand against his forehead. Because sometimes, you just had to be melodramatic. "You wouldn't."

It was sad, really, that the big sad wibbly eyes really were his greatest weakness.