Through the din, smoke and wreckage of the most recent battle to baptize Milliways in flame, the small tinny sound of a classical piece can be heard. The tell-tale door of the Loompas opens in the front of the bar, and from which a cleaning crew of 9 in HazMat suits emerge.
Oompa loompa doom pa de do
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It appears that you took injury during the battle. May I offer you Healing?
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Remain still, then, Joe. *It is a formality; he knows, having seen her work before and having experienced Healing himself in the past. Moiraine reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder.*
*Bright white light streaks from her hand down his right arm and enshrouds it in a mist, shot through with blue and a band of golden-red firelight as well. It sinks into the broken arm, and the bone is mended, bruised flesh soothed and Healed. Silver threads appear out of nothingness, racing over him, searching; they coalesce in a band around his ribcage, as green and more red-gold light swirl together in a blend that sinks through as well, reinforcing and drawing the cracked ribs back into position, then melding them properly together once more.
Small contusions and bruises fall prey to flashes of silver-blue, and then the light around Moiraine fades. The Aes Sedai releases Joe and smiles serenely at him.*
There.
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Right now? She's trying to get up. One can no properly do a victory dance while sitting flat on one's rump.
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"That? Was wonderful. Most effective. Simply.... Wow." She laughs quietly.
"Are you alright, then? In one piece, but anything broken?"
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"Didja see that? Didja see that?" She stares at the door for a moment, then looks at Svava again. The grin on her face could light up Milliways all on it's own. "It was BRILLIANT!"
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Svava looks at the door, and the crater. And idlely wonders damages. Oh well. They won, they were all in relatively one piece....
She keeps grining.
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But she cheers them on anyways.*
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He can't quite believe it.
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And quite possibly appreciates her eyes more than she ever has before.*
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And then one word, from across the bar, low but pitched to carry --
"Well?"
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"So."
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"So."
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Eventually he takes the cigar that Joe gave him and lights it. It takes him two tries to get the match to flare.
Eyes closed. Exhale. Smoke.
Steady.
"You all right?"
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Are you well, Meg? *She looks carefully at her.* Were you hurt?
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