Chat log of Healing
Who: Maedhros, Finrod, Galadriel
What: Finrod and Galie help out the undesirable cousin.
When: Immediately after said undesirable cousin got attacked by the Minions of Morgoth. Bwa ha ha.
*so, yes, there's a bloodied cousin falling inside and slumping against the door, breathing harshly, and outside perhaps the sound of many padded canine feet. Rock*
*might be a little more wide-eyed and slightly pale than normal from the sound of the howls and growling, but he rushes forward with a curse when he sees the bloody cousin* Maitimo!
*raises his head to him, trying to focus* --You have wolves here, you know that?
I didn't before now. *grimly, offering Mae a hand up*
*takes it, and it's a good thing he's instinctively lefthanded now, because pulling on the right would /hurt/* *and winces, standing, and has to lean on him quite a bit* --Thank you.
*casts another wary look at the door as he helps Mae up, wraps an arm around him for support* Do you need me to find Artanis? *cause 'are you alright' would be a dumb question right now*
*grimaces -- Artanis has her hands full with wounded people these days, doesn't she, and he doesn't like adding to it* That might-- yes.
*nods* Lets get you to your room, first.
*nods back, rather than waste energy talking, and will just be limping along with him. stairs will be fun*
*yeah, they probably will be. Finrod is strong though and will support Mae as well as he can as they go up*
*because Finrod is an awesome cousin. srsly appreciates this* *and after a good deal of pain and far too many steps, let's approach the room*
*well, cousins don't let cousins lie bleeding on the floor when they can help it. He's relieved though when the approach the room and opens the door for Mae*
*some cousins do! in spirit, at least* *anyway, makes his way in, and let`s deposit him on the bed with no regard for getting blood all over the sheets*
*yes, well, Finrod is not Curufin fortunately. And sheets can be replaced, limbs can't. He still looks concerned* Need anything?
*for which everyone is very thankful* *shakes his head, but not too much, because face-wound* Just your sister's good graces. *reaches up to wipe the blood from his face, but only really succeeds in spreading it around* Thank you, Findaráto.
*puts a comforting hand on the shoulder of Mae's good arm for a moment* I'll be back as soon as I can.
*nods* *and is just going to lie on some area that isn't too cut up and try not to bleed too much in the meantime*
*nods and goes, quickly going to try to find his sister*
*is looking for Galadriel then, probably has a bit of blood on him but it should hopefully be obvious that it isn't his*
*is in her room, reading a volume of human magic and frowning a lot.*
*that's where he'll look for her, then, and knocks on her door*
*opens the door, beams to see her big brother until she notices the blood* Ingoldo. *hello, and a mute question*
*grimly* Maitimo needs your help. There are wolves in the woods here.
*frowns.* I will come. *sets about gathering herbs, waters, needle and thread.* How bad is it?
Bad. I didn't take the time to examine the wounds but he was bleeding badly and could barely walk enough with my help to get to his room.
*winces, picks more threads.* Take the bedsheets, please. I will not have enough bandages, likely.* She used most of them on Kvothe.*
*nods and goes to gather up the sheets*
*finishes to gather the equipment in a satchel, and stands by the door, waiting.*
Is there anything else you need? *joins her at the door, sheets bundled under his arm*
*Nenya is on her hand, and she takes a moment to ponder.* I only hope there is enough Athelas for him.
If there isn't, there isn't. It would not be wise to go out to look for more right now.
*somberly* I know. *and as there is nothing more to do but go, closes the door*
*nods and starts toward Mae's room again, then*
*will be walking in silence, getting ready for the task*
*if they're going to be continuing like that, will reach Mae's door in silence and he opens the door to let them in* We're here, Maitimo.
*sits up as they enter, looking pale, possibly because of all that blood wandering off from where it's supposed to be* Come in. *fairly weak-sounding, bah* Hello, Artanis.
*comes in, then, and nods in salutation.* Maitimo. *more gentle than he expects, but she's very focused and less emotional than if it were, oh, let's say, Angamaite. She moves to his side and starts inspecting the wounds immediately.*
*quietly closes the door behind them and leans against the wall*
*no one wants a bloodied up Angrod, good god. except maybe typists* *aaanyway, she'll find a tattered shirt, and underneath wide, deep gashes in his right arm, a badly bitten-up right hand, long clawings going down the back of his shoulder and side, bites on one leg, a deep scratch on his cheek and various other minor scratchings elsewhere. \o/*
*that includes Ingoldo, of course. And we are not suggesting anything.* *Galadriel's mouth sets to a thin line of resolve, and she gets to work, cleaning the wounds.* *And what is with with destroying people's hands, and getting Galie to fix them? We sense a pattern, here.*
*it was the same typist's idea both times, ask her* *anyway is stoic -- stoic! -- against the sting, sitting nice and still for her while she goes to all the trouble*
*she cleans the wounds very delicately, and takes notes of the places where stitches will be needed.* I will set the waters of sleep for you, Maitimo. *it is both soft and stern, soothing and uncompromising.*
That's not-- *no, never mind, we don't argue with Galadriels and he knows it, and nods*
*so she sets them, but the herb reserve is low, for puppet torturing purposes, and so he'll be groggy, but not unconscious. She's sorry, but not as much as she should be.*
*he doesn't need, or want, her to be sorry, it's bad enough that she has to waste her time on him in the first place* *while she sets them, before they take effect, he leans back* They-- these were not just wolves. *and looks at both of them* Gaurhoth.
*nods, very grim* I thought I recognized the sound.
*a pause, and fear flickers in her eyes just a moment before it's gone - not for her, but her brothers.* *she nods glumly, and prepares the needle - her hand is not trembling. Of course not.*
*looks at her somberly, then closes his eyes as the herbs begin to do their work* ...You did not have to do this. *quiet* Thank you.
*yes, she did. They need him in the fight for Morgoth. and well. Better him than her brothers. So.* You are welcome. Never refuse my healing, cousin. *almost soothingly.*
*well, that he can agree with, at least* *nods, not unconscious but not wholly awake either*
*so she starts to stitch him, slowly and carefully, using the waters of healing to contain possible infection. As she works she sings, softly, to ward off illness.*
*and since Elves can't get sick, it'll probably work* *the pain cuts into the grogginess, but only enough to be aware of it, not to do anything about it*
*typist fail*
*well, isn't that convenient? Galadriel can torture him under the guise of healing. But she's not that way - she continues to work, steadily so.*
*pity, she could be having a lot more fun if she were* *and the only signs of pain are a mouth pressed into a thin line, and a fist clenched tight around some sheet; is a good patient that way*
*So she's done stitching what she can, and she gets to tending to his hand. This feels much too familiar.*
*sorry! If it helps it's not nearly as decimated as Kvothe's was, just gnawed on a bit*
*so no broken bones?*
*let's go with dislocation, if fingers can be dislocated. but no, not broken, definitely not shattered like the one before*
*that's good, because dislocation can be fixed by placing the bones back. It's going to be remarkably painful, though. There is a stick nearby for him to bite if he needs it.*
*he's barely conscious, we doubt he has even the presence of mind for that. just go ahead*
*so ahead she goes, setting the fingers back into their joints delicately, painstakingly, her hands skilled and bent on their work. Her breath might even be held for the focus it takes.*
*his isn't -- he breathes in sharp and his hand spasms reflexively at first -- you woke him up a bit, at least -- then stills, deliberate*
*she will pause, look at him, then shrug. If he wants to suffer, she cannot deny it to him. Still fixing those fingers.* Ingoldo? Can you tear the sheets?
Of course. *starts tearing the sheet into narrow strips for bandages*
*is that even a question? anyone who's jumped into a lava-filled chasm within the last month, yes, probably wants to suffer at least a little bit. But look, he's being good and /not/ moving the hand, even he knows that was a bad idea*
*a smile for her brother. He's a blessing.* *And yes, she figures. She's done mending the articulations, and she sets to tending to the lesser wounds in the meantime that bandages are made ready.*
*now that that particular pain is over -- and we find it hard to believe he's never disloacted something before; at the very least the cliffhanging would play hell with your shoulder -- he relaxes some, opens his eyes. Otherwise, isn't contributing much here*
*sets the pile of make shift bandages next to his sister for her to use*
*gives a gentle smile of thanks.* *As she bandages Maitimo...* Cousin?
*the best he can do is a quiet, groggy* Mm?
*that's good enough.* You will need much sleep. *she's done, almost.* I will come in the morning.
*nods as best one can while lying down* ...My thanks. *barely a whisper, but*
*she nods* will you take the tea of sleep?
*nods -- not that he needs it, really, at this point, but a) that would take too much artculation to explain, and b) we still don't argue with Galadriels*
*so she gives it to him, holding the bowl for him, supporting him if he needs it.*
*does, probably* *but yay tea, and will sink back down as soon as she stops holding him up*
*so she will pick up the equipment, and we're assuming her brother and her leave him to his rest?"
*sounds like a plan* *will watch them go, and then lie back and let the sleepy-tea take over*
What: Finrod and Galie help out the undesirable cousin.
When: Immediately after said undesirable cousin got attacked by the Minions of Morgoth. Bwa ha ha.
*so, yes, there's a bloodied cousin falling inside and slumping against the door, breathing harshly, and outside perhaps the sound of many padded canine feet. Rock*
*might be a little more wide-eyed and slightly pale than normal from the sound of the howls and growling, but he rushes forward with a curse when he sees the bloody cousin* Maitimo!
*raises his head to him, trying to focus* --You have wolves here, you know that?
I didn't before now. *grimly, offering Mae a hand up*
*takes it, and it's a good thing he's instinctively lefthanded now, because pulling on the right would /hurt/* *and winces, standing, and has to lean on him quite a bit* --Thank you.
*casts another wary look at the door as he helps Mae up, wraps an arm around him for support* Do you need me to find Artanis? *cause 'are you alright' would be a dumb question right now*
*grimaces -- Artanis has her hands full with wounded people these days, doesn't she, and he doesn't like adding to it* That might-- yes.
*nods* Lets get you to your room, first.
*nods back, rather than waste energy talking, and will just be limping along with him. stairs will be fun*
*yeah, they probably will be. Finrod is strong though and will support Mae as well as he can as they go up*
*because Finrod is an awesome cousin. srsly appreciates this* *and after a good deal of pain and far too many steps, let's approach the room*
*well, cousins don't let cousins lie bleeding on the floor when they can help it. He's relieved though when the approach the room and opens the door for Mae*
*some cousins do! in spirit, at least* *anyway, makes his way in, and let`s deposit him on the bed with no regard for getting blood all over the sheets*
*yes, well, Finrod is not Curufin fortunately. And sheets can be replaced, limbs can't. He still looks concerned* Need anything?
*for which everyone is very thankful* *shakes his head, but not too much, because face-wound* Just your sister's good graces. *reaches up to wipe the blood from his face, but only really succeeds in spreading it around* Thank you, Findaráto.
*puts a comforting hand on the shoulder of Mae's good arm for a moment* I'll be back as soon as I can.
*nods* *and is just going to lie on some area that isn't too cut up and try not to bleed too much in the meantime*
*nods and goes, quickly going to try to find his sister*
*is looking for Galadriel then, probably has a bit of blood on him but it should hopefully be obvious that it isn't his*
*is in her room, reading a volume of human magic and frowning a lot.*
*that's where he'll look for her, then, and knocks on her door*
*opens the door, beams to see her big brother until she notices the blood* Ingoldo. *hello, and a mute question*
*grimly* Maitimo needs your help. There are wolves in the woods here.
*frowns.* I will come. *sets about gathering herbs, waters, needle and thread.* How bad is it?
Bad. I didn't take the time to examine the wounds but he was bleeding badly and could barely walk enough with my help to get to his room.
*winces, picks more threads.* Take the bedsheets, please. I will not have enough bandages, likely.* She used most of them on Kvothe.*
*nods and goes to gather up the sheets*
*finishes to gather the equipment in a satchel, and stands by the door, waiting.*
Is there anything else you need? *joins her at the door, sheets bundled under his arm*
*Nenya is on her hand, and she takes a moment to ponder.* I only hope there is enough Athelas for him.
If there isn't, there isn't. It would not be wise to go out to look for more right now.
*somberly* I know. *and as there is nothing more to do but go, closes the door*
*nods and starts toward Mae's room again, then*
*will be walking in silence, getting ready for the task*
*if they're going to be continuing like that, will reach Mae's door in silence and he opens the door to let them in* We're here, Maitimo.
*sits up as they enter, looking pale, possibly because of all that blood wandering off from where it's supposed to be* Come in. *fairly weak-sounding, bah* Hello, Artanis.
*comes in, then, and nods in salutation.* Maitimo. *more gentle than he expects, but she's very focused and less emotional than if it were, oh, let's say, Angamaite. She moves to his side and starts inspecting the wounds immediately.*
*quietly closes the door behind them and leans against the wall*
*no one wants a bloodied up Angrod, good god. except maybe typists* *aaanyway, she'll find a tattered shirt, and underneath wide, deep gashes in his right arm, a badly bitten-up right hand, long clawings going down the back of his shoulder and side, bites on one leg, a deep scratch on his cheek and various other minor scratchings elsewhere. \o/*
*that includes Ingoldo, of course. And we are not suggesting anything.* *Galadriel's mouth sets to a thin line of resolve, and she gets to work, cleaning the wounds.* *And what is with with destroying people's hands, and getting Galie to fix them? We sense a pattern, here.*
*it was the same typist's idea both times, ask her* *anyway is stoic -- stoic! -- against the sting, sitting nice and still for her while she goes to all the trouble*
*she cleans the wounds very delicately, and takes notes of the places where stitches will be needed.* I will set the waters of sleep for you, Maitimo. *it is both soft and stern, soothing and uncompromising.*
That's not-- *no, never mind, we don't argue with Galadriels and he knows it, and nods*
*so she sets them, but the herb reserve is low, for puppet torturing purposes, and so he'll be groggy, but not unconscious. She's sorry, but not as much as she should be.*
*he doesn't need, or want, her to be sorry, it's bad enough that she has to waste her time on him in the first place* *while she sets them, before they take effect, he leans back* They-- these were not just wolves. *and looks at both of them* Gaurhoth.
*nods, very grim* I thought I recognized the sound.
*a pause, and fear flickers in her eyes just a moment before it's gone - not for her, but her brothers.* *she nods glumly, and prepares the needle - her hand is not trembling. Of course not.*
*looks at her somberly, then closes his eyes as the herbs begin to do their work* ...You did not have to do this. *quiet* Thank you.
*yes, she did. They need him in the fight for Morgoth. and well. Better him than her brothers. So.* You are welcome. Never refuse my healing, cousin. *almost soothingly.*
*well, that he can agree with, at least* *nods, not unconscious but not wholly awake either*
*so she starts to stitch him, slowly and carefully, using the waters of healing to contain possible infection. As she works she sings, softly, to ward off illness.*
*and since Elves can't get sick, it'll probably work* *the pain cuts into the grogginess, but only enough to be aware of it, not to do anything about it*
*typist fail*
*well, isn't that convenient? Galadriel can torture him under the guise of healing. But she's not that way - she continues to work, steadily so.*
*pity, she could be having a lot more fun if she were* *and the only signs of pain are a mouth pressed into a thin line, and a fist clenched tight around some sheet; is a good patient that way*
*So she's done stitching what she can, and she gets to tending to his hand. This feels much too familiar.*
*sorry! If it helps it's not nearly as decimated as Kvothe's was, just gnawed on a bit*
*so no broken bones?*
*let's go with dislocation, if fingers can be dislocated. but no, not broken, definitely not shattered like the one before*
*that's good, because dislocation can be fixed by placing the bones back. It's going to be remarkably painful, though. There is a stick nearby for him to bite if he needs it.*
*he's barely conscious, we doubt he has even the presence of mind for that. just go ahead*
*so ahead she goes, setting the fingers back into their joints delicately, painstakingly, her hands skilled and bent on their work. Her breath might even be held for the focus it takes.*
*his isn't -- he breathes in sharp and his hand spasms reflexively at first -- you woke him up a bit, at least -- then stills, deliberate*
*she will pause, look at him, then shrug. If he wants to suffer, she cannot deny it to him. Still fixing those fingers.* Ingoldo? Can you tear the sheets?
Of course. *starts tearing the sheet into narrow strips for bandages*
*is that even a question? anyone who's jumped into a lava-filled chasm within the last month, yes, probably wants to suffer at least a little bit. But look, he's being good and /not/ moving the hand, even he knows that was a bad idea*
*a smile for her brother. He's a blessing.* *And yes, she figures. She's done mending the articulations, and she sets to tending to the lesser wounds in the meantime that bandages are made ready.*
*now that that particular pain is over -- and we find it hard to believe he's never disloacted something before; at the very least the cliffhanging would play hell with your shoulder -- he relaxes some, opens his eyes. Otherwise, isn't contributing much here*
*sets the pile of make shift bandages next to his sister for her to use*
*gives a gentle smile of thanks.* *As she bandages Maitimo...* Cousin?
*the best he can do is a quiet, groggy* Mm?
*that's good enough.* You will need much sleep. *she's done, almost.* I will come in the morning.
*nods as best one can while lying down* ...My thanks. *barely a whisper, but*
*she nods* will you take the tea of sleep?
*nods -- not that he needs it, really, at this point, but a) that would take too much artculation to explain, and b) we still don't argue with Galadriels*
*so she gives it to him, holding the bowl for him, supporting him if he needs it.*
*does, probably* *but yay tea, and will sink back down as soon as she stops holding him up*
*so she will pick up the equipment, and we're assuming her brother and her leave him to his rest?"
*sounds like a plan* *will watch them go, and then lie back and let the sleepy-tea take over*