(no subject)

[herr_bookman]

[OOM: "We made it to the church that night, and were quickly loaded onto a horse-drawn cart to trek the rest of the eight mile journey to the field hospital."

Warnings for blood, medical details, death. ]

Autor draws a rasping breath as he enters the bar, less a gasp than a whimper.

He’s too tall for his uniform, having shot up a couple of inches since he last saw the bar. His hair is fuzzy under his helmet--and in need of a trim. His face is much thinner, and though he’s gained both height and muscle, he’s wiry, half-starved.

The trench foot-stricken soldier clings to his wounded left shoulder with the hand that's not wrapped up in a sling. He checks the top of the stairs for snipers. Then Autor carefully shuts the door behind him. He swings at it with his right hand, bruising his knuckles with the force of his punch.

Autor leans against the door. The boy cradles his head in his hand and laughs softly, close to tears and still half-convinced that this is another fever dream.

Comments

[is_the_motion]

"Autor!"

Bonnie moves over to him with a speed that ought not to be possible with the size of the bump. Her instinct is to fling her arms around him, but instead just touches his shoulder gently.

"It's okay honey, it's okay, you're safe now."

[herr_bookman]

"Bonnie?" Autor says, startled by her sudden presence. He glances from her face to her bump, and blurts out the first thought that comes to mind: "You're pregnant?"

[is_the_motion]

She nods, trying not to cry with relief.

"Six months gone." she says. "You're hurt, come and sit down."

[sunbaked_baker]

At at nearby table, Rae has to hurriedly set her pile of books down before they tumble from her suddenly nerveless hands.

"Autor!" Her voice cracks on the word, hands and voice shaking as a wave of relief engulfs her, making her knees weak beneath her. "Oh gods, you're alive."

[herr_bookman]

"Rae," Autor croaks, and takes off almost at a run to get to her. He wraps his good arm around her neck and buries his face into her shoulder, dissolving into tears. "I thought I'd n-never see you again."

[sunbaked_baker]

Autor has gotten taller while he's been away. He's taller than her, now.

Rae doesn't know why that realization is what breaks the dam inside her and lets the tears flow, but it is. She catches him in both arms, holding him, clinging to him, unable to speak for a long moment.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she rasps into his shoulder, voice choked with tears. Her hands rest warm against his back, feeling the solidity of him. The realness of him. He's here. He's alive. "Autor. I'm... so glad we were both wrong."

[fluffiest_archadian]

Sherral - possibly looks a tiny bit worse for wear, tired and with a day or two's worth of stubble, but only a tiny bit.

As Autor enters, he watches him for a moment, expression carefully neutral and assessing. Then he approaches, inclining his head a little.

"We should get you some water, Autor," he says gently. "And a comfortable place to sit."

He has questions, but there are practical concerns to approach first.

[herr_bookman]

"Sherral," Autor says breathily, a little surprised to see actual, breathing people in the bar again. "Water's a good idea. As is sitting somewhere."

He looks up at him, offering his overly-tall friend a blink-and-you'll-miss-it smile. "How are you?" Autor croaks, leading them to a booth which will give him a good view of the stairs.

[fluffiest_archadian]

He gets a very faint smile in response. For a moment, at least.

"I'm well, thank you. Glad to see you've returned, there was some - concern," Sherral replies lightly. This is probably the closest he'll get to admitting he was worried sick. "If you feel like you can eat, I'd see you fed as well."

Once they reach the booth, he waits, standing, for Autor to sit, ready to render help if necessary.

[cook_the_rude]

This is probably the least welcome sight in all of Milliways for Autor: Dr. Hannibal Lecter, cheerfully exiting the kitchen door with a plate of delicate food in his hand.

[herr_bookman]

It wouldn't be Milliways without Dr. Lecter. Autor sighs, resting his back against the door. He'll wait for the good doctor to approach before hailing him.

[cook_the_rude]

"Hello, Autor!" Lecter says, cheerfully. "You look awful. World War One?"

[crabbycustomer]

"OH FUCK, IT'S YOU."

"AND IT LOOKS LIKE SOME REAL SHIT HAS BEEN HAPPENING."

Karkat is still the same; a little taller if he's changed at all, but not enough to change the essential fireplug nature of his build. "THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU EQUIP BOOKS TO YOUR STRIFE SPECIBUS, GODDAMNIT."

[herr_bookman]

Autor raises a brow at him, straightening his good shoulder. "Nice to see you, too," he says, all vestiges of tears disappeared. "The sylladex didn't help me much out there, books or no books. I couldn't let anyone see me using it. Ancient technological times and all of that."

[crabbycustomer]

Karkat assesses him. "WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? YOU LOOK REMARKABLY FUCKED UP, THIS WASN'T JUST SOME SCRAPE OR MILLIWAYS SHENANIGANS, WAS IT?"

[runningred]

Jay's hasn't been seen in the bar for a couple of days. But his eyes have.

One of the Drones spots Autor and comes floating over, buzzing excitedly. He scans Autor and chirps a greeting before darting away.

A few moments later, Jay drags himself down the stairs, looking, well, like shit. But the smile he greets Autor with his genuine, if pained. "Autor?"

[herr_bookman]

"Jay?" Autor says, and pushes himself off the door. "You look awful." He doesn't waste anymore words, simply wraps himself around the mechanic, clinging to his neck with his good hand.

[souffle_girlek]

Oswin doesn't spend a lot of time in the main bar. It's too big, too undefended.

That doesn't mean she doesn't watch.

Within minutes, she's in the bar, stumbling in her speed. She... looks like she's spotted a ghost.

[herr_bookman]

"Oswin?" Autor says, startled by her sudden presence. He steps forward, holding out his good hand to her. "It's me, Autor. I'm back."

[student_of_impossibility]

Tavi knows a soldier in the middle of a battle when he sees one. He's seen worse in his time, certainly--he's had worse, to be honest--but the young man is obviously doing remarkably poorly.

Tavi's leaned against the door in his time, too. He knows how that feels.

So he walks over, offering a hand as support. "Will you let me help you?" he asks directly.

This is not a time to be wasting words, and he's done it before."

[herr_bookman]

Autor blinks at him, startled by his sudden presence. He flicks his gaze over his hand, and grasps it firmly, the grip of a soldier to his gun. "What help can you offer?"

[katyafeline]

"You reek, бой ученый." The observation is accompanied by a wave of frosty air and the clear ringing of silver bangles.

And by Katya flicking his ear, because honestly, such a mess.

[herr_bookman]

"Ow," Autor says, rubbing his ear. He surreptitiously sniffs his shirt. "I don't smell that bad, do I? And hello to you, too, Katya."

[merryeccentricities]

" --Autor!"

Joly had come down for lunch to get himself out of the lab--an idle distraction, a lazy day-- but that idea is totally forgotten now as he runs over, smiling and worried, to greet his friend.

[herr_bookman]

"Joly? Joly! Is it really you?" Autor says, wrapping his good arm around his friend's neck. "I thought I'd never see you again."