#head trauma
Trephination, or trepanning, is the oldest surgical procedure in the history of humankind. It’s so old that our earliest archeological evidence of the practice dates back to the Neolithic age. Cave paintings depict the procedure as an effort to relieve a type of demonic possession that we would now label epilepsy or a variety of other mental maladies. It was also used to removed broken bits of skull after trauma, and drain blood pooling between the skull and dura matter. The crazy thing about the prehistoric use of puncturing-a-hole-in-your-freaking-skull was that most of the wounds show signs of healing, indicating that these people most often survived the procedure. Other archeological evidence suggests that these people would wear the fragment of skull removed as a charm.
We still trephinate people today, typically to relieve the effects of severe head trauma and for craniectomy (unfortunately if you have this done today they won’t give you the bone to wear as a charm. I figure if I’m letting them crack open my skull the least they could do is give me a souvenir).
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Continued from here
CW: Drugging, implied sex trafficking/prostitution, head trauma mention, poor self image, discussion of past trauma, passing out, implied suicide attempt
“Where… where am I..?”
Atlas turned from the window to look at Val. “You’re awake.” Relief swept over them.
“Wh-who… what’s going on?” Val struggled to sit up, their tone rapidly becoming more upset.
“It’s okay— you’re okay. We’re back at my house.”
Val grasped the edge of the blankets near their chest, their eyes flickering over the interior of the room. “D-don't— You don’t have to dru-drug me again— I can— I’ll be good— I won't— I won’t try to get away anym-more— I’m sor-sorry—”
Atlas sat at the end of the bed, mentally kicking themself as Val flinched. “I’m not going to drug you. I won’t hurt you.”
“I don’t believe you—” Val whimpered, shrinking back against the pillows.
Atlas took a steadying breath. “Val— listen, you might not believe me, but it is true. I swear on the soul of my father that I will not hurt you and that I only want to help you.” Atlas extended a hand, open and palm up, to Val. “I can see that you don’t trust me. I know I’ve made mistakes with you already and for that I am deeply sorry. Can you forgive me?”
Val’s eyes fixed on Atlas’s hand, their muscles tense. “I-I… I f-forgive you…” And they reluctantly and gingerly placed their small hand atop Atlas’s.
Atlas didn’t really think Val had forgiven them, but they found the gesture of trust— however small— reassuring. There was hope that things could change. One day, Val would be okay.
“Can you get up? Are you strong enough?”
Val struggled and managed to get their feet on the ground from the bed, but when they tried to stand, they had to sit back down.
“May I help you?” Atlas stood and Val flinched again.
“I don't— d-don’t want to be carried…”
“Then I won’t carry you. If you lean on me, do you think you can walk a short ways?”
“I-I… I-I can try…”
Atlas helped Val to stand and led them out of the room into the hallway. Val was slow, but Atlas didn’t try to pick them up. “Right in here. Come on. Sit down.” Atlas helped Val to the table and to a chair.
Val sat down, taking a shaky breath as they looked around the dining hall.
“I’m going to bring you something to eat. And I want you to meet the rest of the household if that’s alright.”
Val nodded lightly and Atlas disappeared into the kitchen. “Six? Would you find Seven and Emery and join me in the dining room please?”
Six, a short werewolf with bangs obscuring most of their face, nodded and left the kitchen.
Atlas made something for Val to eat and came back to the dining room just in time to see Six, Seven, and Emery come in through a side door.
Val started to tremble a little bit as the three new arrivals sat at the table.
“Val? I’d like to introduce the rest of the house. This is Six—” Atlas motioned to the werewolf with bangs covering their eyes. “They don’t really talk much. This is Seven, Six’s litter mate—” Another werewolf, who looked identical to Six aside from the fact that their hair was brushed out of their face, gave a curt nod. “They have an… interesting attitude, but they’re sweet at heart. And this is Emery—” A tall lanky vampire with red hair and brown eyes waved at Val. “They’re a social butterfly. Six, Seven, Emery— this is Val. They’re a shapeshifter.”
A chorus of hellos resounded from the trio. Even Six chimed in, albeit quietly.
Val whispered a hello in response.
“Val, you don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to, but I’ll let you alone with them now if you’re okay with it.”
—
Val nodded weakly, unsure if it was a proper response, but then Atlas was gone and they couldn’t change their mind. They didn’t trust Atlas, but… well… they didn’t really want them to leave, either…
“So I’m Seven.” Seven kicked back in their chair. “Me and Six were born at a mill. There were so many litters that they just named us by number. That’s why we’re Six and Seven. There used to be One, Two, Three, Four, Five, and Eight too. Then Two died when we were born. The rest didn’t make it out with me and Six. Last I saw them, Three was still alive, though.”
Val didn’t know what to do with this information, so they just stared. Why was Seven sharing this with them?
“Atlas is a good human— one of the only good humans. You seem like you don’t trust him, but you can. And you should.”
The vampire— Emery cut in. “Don’t be weird, Seven. They haven’t even been here for twenty-four hours yet. Talking about trust and shit… Anyway, my name’s Emery! I’m a vampire— obviously. When I got turned, I thought I was a monster. I tried… well… long story short, things weren’t good for me— y'know— mentally. But Atlas helped me take control of my life again.”
Val looked at Six, almost expecting a story from them too, but they didn’t speak.
“Six… suffered a traumatic brain injury.” Seven said, following Val’s gaze. “They can understand everything, but… they can’t really put together more than three or sometimes four words at a time…”
“I-I’m sorry…”
“It is… okay” Six said, haltingly.
Seven gave a reluctant nod. “It’s good to have a new addition to the house. Your name’s Val, right?”
Val nodded. “I-I’m a shapeshifter. I’ve li-lived with a human called Knox all my life… they… they helped me learn how to u-use my magic to make people ha-happy…”
No one said anything then for a long minute.
“How so?” Seven asked, finally.
“We-well… I… People… I become different things to suit different people’s t-tastes…” Val stopped, uncomfortable and uncertain. They didn’t dare meet anyone’s eyes. “I… I-I’m sorry— I—” Val stood to leave the room, but suddenly their vision blurred. They collapsed.
Taglist:@villainsvictim@wolfeyedwitch@dragyouthroughthewhump@someoneelsebolg
Anvivia chokes on her laughter. She couldn’t keep it contained and nearly doubled over onto him. “You already have the best skateboard tricks! I can’t hold you up on a board!” She managed to calm herself down, tears in her eyes from laughter as she tones it down to a smile.
If any of the other Turks were around, it would be the first time in 2 years that they would hear that laugh come from their colleague. She had laughed, of course, when the mood of the others called for it, but it held no true emotion to it.
She had changed, just as everyone else had. The biggest difference between herself and the others was that she felt like not even a day had passed now that they were awake. With Ossis around, she felt like this had never happened. She still felt the guilt, but having them awake made it manageable.
She grins with Ossis. “I can sneak you some lobster.. If I can find some.. You know they are very shellfish around here.” She pauses to think for a moment. “Sunshine, how much did you lose?” She doesn’t want to ask, but she needs to know how much he remembers of her. How close she can be to them without making them uncomfortable.
Hearing her laughter and seeing her smile warms up Ossis’ thin frame from within. The sight distracted them from Anvivia words. However, they doubt it really matters, what matters is her happiness, and that they were the one who provided it.
Ossis’ own charming smile hasn’t left them, and they give another friendly squeeze to her gloved hand. Neither of them had let go of the other.
“That would be lovely.” Ossis purr in a hopeful tone - with an added chuckle at the pun. Pausing just a moment too long -as they begin to gather their thoughts on how to deliver the next follow-up suggestion- because that precise moment gave room for Anvivia’s question. A question which robs the bliss and invites the darkness back. Ossis could naturally, easily turn it back. All Ossis needs to do is to play oblivious and innocent and throw in a jest. It would be easy and comfortable, but if this is something that has pained Anvivia for some time then it’s better to give her some real reassurance.
“How much did I lose?…” Ossis tastes the question, weighting it on their tongue, while their head sinks into the pillows and the blue eyes moves to focus on something beyond the roof over them. Beyond the present. “Memory wise, let’s see… It is hard to tell, I woke up rather addled, though I believe I can now recall everything that I am supposed to remember.” Looking back at Anvivia with a small smile. “I recall who I am. What we Turks do. Our mission. And you.”
