009

[lionpassant]

Work is repetitive, but not without its interests. Restoring a ship takes its time. Though the foundation of it takes due effort

Comments

Bandages are for wimps.

[treadingdawn]

[Caspian flexes his hand, the cuts at his knuckles dry but still sore. Maybe it'd hurt less if he stopped flexing his hand, duh.]

At least it didn't talk.

Says the bandaged wimp.

[lionpassant]

[Edmund's already sheathed his blade. He's wary of spit now. It might have done something odd to the floor. A burning sort of sensation to the ground? He doesn't even want to ask. Edmund uncurls a roll of white, motions for Caspian to stop flexing, now.]

That would be disturbing.

WHAT.

[treadingdawn]

I am sure it wouldn't have many good things to say.

[Ceasing the flex.]

WHOT WHAT? BANDAGED WIMP.

[lionpassant]

I doubt it liked the blade to its neck, very.

[Unrolls the bandage to the half, applies some salve (alcohol is what they call it?) to the wound. Edmund begins to wrap the roll around Caspian's wrist. He's done this for Peter a lot.]

SAVE IT FOR LATER.

[treadingdawn]

I don't--

[Need it, he meant to finish, but the sting from the salve cuts him off. Everyone knows one drop of basilisk poison kills full grown men, but come on a punch to its face? Well, better safe than sorry.]

Thanks.

[Remarking to Edmund, oh the faucet looks interesting.]

*WAS TTLY JUST GONNA USE YOUR LINE*

[lionpassant]

[Edmund almost rolls his eyes, but he's stubborn at the half-protest. So, he doesn't.]

I do this for Peter a lot.

[He says because it's no big deal. It isn't. He continues to wrap.]

QUICK ON THE DRAW IS ME.

[treadingdawn]

So I imagine.

[Not that he's remarking on Edmund or Peter's knack for getting into fights right? Caspian doesn't pull away at least, letting Ed do what he wants with his hand.]

AHAHAHA. NO. *POINTS* YOU ARE FAIL.

[lionpassant]

[More like sparring that went a bit far, rather. Edmund makes no comment, just finishes wrapping, keeps it tight and snug. He takes Caspian's hand, turns it over for a check.]

SANTA SAYS NO YOU.

[treadingdawn]

That is more than enough, Edmund.

[Caspian insists though not without appreciation. He gives it a much more manageable flex, to keep the bandage from being too tight.]

SANTA. BITCHPLS.

[lionpassant]

[Edmund lets Caspian's hand go, re-curls the rest lest someone else wish to use it.]

Welcome.

[He says, places it away.

NO GIFTS FOR YOU.

[treadingdawn]

[Standing again.]

Perhaps we should see the attic again.

[It's a joke really, but who wants killer bats or worse yet, a vengeful Japanese spectre up there.]

;askjlsa WILLKEELYOU.

[lionpassant]

[Edmund agrees. He places the bandages to a side as they make their way upstairs.]

Best to double-check.

[It's better than not checking at all.]

HAH.

[treadingdawn]

[Caspian's taking the sword this time, but it's only warm and dusty upstairs, not much else. Certainly it's the basilisk downstairs that kept the rest of the house completely empty.]

Well this explains its abandoned state.

BITEME. D:

[lionpassant]

[Nothing satisfying here. Ed keeps his hand from his blade.]

Or maybe lived in. Just, eaten.

[He makes a face at the thought. It's entirely possible. That's what makes it so disturbing.]

ED YOU'RE MORBID.

[treadingdawn]

[He gives Edmund a look because THAT is a likely possibility.]

I hope that you'll never say that to Lucy.

JUSTABITS?

[lionpassant]

[Checks a window to make sure nothing's hiding.]

I won't.

[Face deepens at that. That's not a good idea. Lucy wouldn't appreciate it. So Edmund refrains.]