Somewhere in Neopia, on a cloud floating over the land, is a shimmering, candy-floss castle, where all sorts of winged ladies hold court
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He's swaying on his feet again. "Fuh...Yeah, get me outta here. Now. I gotta-...GadZOOKS, I'm hungry. An' I just wanna lie down. For a little while." He holds up his forefinger and thumb a tiny ways apart, demonstrating for how little. "Just a little while."
He's rambling and mumbling out of exhaustion, so it's a good idea that he get home quick. And it seems both parties here trust that Lumindra will be able to get him out of Faerieland and into his Space Station unnoticed. Because the last thing Sloth needs is his minions or various other Neopets and faeries seeing him on his sworn enemy's arm wearing nothing by a purple towel.
Indeed. Fortunately, the same magic that allows her to jump vast reaches of space with hardly a blip makes this quick work. She casts one last grateful look back at Fyora, with a silent promise to make up for this help, loops an arm under Sloth's shoulders, and they're gone.
The interesting thing about the magic that sends her whooshing from one point to another is what it feels like when it's going on. It's probably not going to help his headache at all, certainly. It's a little bit like the first drop in a certain indoor roller coaster at a certain theme park that's big on mice. Dark, spotted with light, fast, disorienting...and weirdly fun.
They're now in his inner sanctum, the holiest of holies, where no minion dare tread. His bedroom.
Ugh, yes, the lurching sense of movement with the disorienting slashes of light around them doesn't help matters. Sloth simply lets his head hang and shuts his eyes for the duration of this particular jaunt.
When the sense of motion stops and he can feel cold steel under his bare feet, the doctor finally lifts his head and looks around blearily. Oh thank God. Or whatever passes for a deity around this horrible place.
He's already stumbling in the direction of his bed and simply flops facefirst onto the mattress without a word. He doesn't move or bother to get under the sheets; he just lies there, completely drained from his little adventure in paint brush mishaps.
Though there is eventually a long, weary groan made into the covers his face is buried in.
And while he's doing that, she quietly tiptoes over to his personal refrigerator. When she opens the door, she realizes that all the food has gone off. But she's not a faerie for nothing. When the door closes, she's carrying a plate with a sandwich, a pre-peeled banana, and her other hand is holding a Neocola.
Yeah, somebody doesn't know the wonders of alcohol. Otherwise she'd probably be getting him some of that booze he's got squirreled away.
She perches herself on the bed next to him, holding out the food near his head.
There's another groan, followed by muffled, unintelligible words muttered still into the blankets.
It's ages before he finally looks up at the offered food, then at the woman doing the offering.
"...I'ma wait until I'm sick first, okay?" Then he buries his face again. Hey, at least he didn't snarl at her or refuse it flat, right?
And it's only a few minutes later before he slumps off of the mattress and starts shuffling towards the bathroom. "Yup. Just a moment." Once he's in there and the door slides shut, there is the sound of retching and wet splattering. Lovely.
It's another long stretch of minutes before the door is open again. Sloth is now tying shut a black bathrobe with the familiar Virtupets logo embroidered on the left side of the chest, and the purple cloth Fyora had given him is in one hand. He actually looks a little better now that he's done that whole throwing up thing.
"So...Do I have to, like, return this to her or anything? Because I wiped my mouth on it."
Awwwww. The more organic part of him being sick makes her feel very sad for him. Although, she will admit, she's blocking out the more unpleasant sounds by putting her fingers in her ears, closing her eyes...and seeing him without his robe on again.
Yeesh.
When he returns, she just shakes her head. "It was a gift. Besides, I think it's temporary until you get some real clothes on. I don't think the bathrobe counts, or it would have vanished."
The food is now resting on his bedside table, and she stands up off his bed. "Rest and eat. You'll feel better soon, I promise."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." The purple cloth is dropped carelessly onto the floor of his bedroom as he shuffles back to sit on his bed. He looks at the food in squint-eyed consideration, eventually deciding he's not ready just yet to start wolfing anything down.
Instead, he's just going to stare at nothing in particular as he slouches on the side of his bed. "So...Was I a cute baby?" And he looks at Lumindra with a raised eyebrow as he waits for her response.
"You were adorable," she answers immediately, the amusement in her tone opposite of the flatness of her expression. "And, yes, you were lacking legs. But that didn't seem to stop you at all. You could crawl quite well, from what I heard."
She's not in any rush to leave, so she flutters on over to a black leather arm-chair and perches herself on the edge of the seat.
"You were very serious, as well. A very serious baby."
"...Cool." That's all he says in response right off. He's not going to be humbled even in the tiniest by this entire episode. Heck, he was just told that he was cute! He's okay with that. See, people like him even when he's a baby! He's irresistible all the time!
That sandwich is finally starting to look tempting, so one green hand soon snatches it up and Sloth takes a huge bite out of it. And doing so snaps a few more memories back into focus. Oh yeah. Sandwich. That's what he was eating last he can recall. Hips' sammiches, to be precise.
"How long's it been?" He asks this sort of offhandedly at first, but then his chewing slows and his eyes go blank. And he asks it again, but in a more hushed, serious tone. "...How long has it been."
"Two and a half weeks," she answers honestly, looking at him closely.
"I'm sorry, I had no idea anything was wrong at all. I'd not had any...calls. Since you vanished. I will admit to not paying as close attention as I could have, and I'm sorry. But..."
She trails off, looks away for a moment, before looking back at him, her eyes shining.
"I was having so much fun. I never had any headaches! Not one! It was amazing, Frank."
A lot of what Lumindra said after stating how much time has lapsed is nothing but distant, pointless droning. Sloth's mouth has dropped open and he stares at her as his mind obviously is racing about something frantically behind his suddenly still features.
Then he's up and moving quickly, dropping the sandwich back onto its plate and hurrying out of the bedroom, making a beeline instead for his office. Going straight for his desk and pulling open drawers and rifling through papers, booting up his computer and tapping in passwords and file access rapidly.
To Lumindra, he only says sternly, "You need to leave. Now."
She's not hurt by this order, nor did she expect any thanks for helping him, but her face does lose that imperceptible quality that passes for joy with her. Her eyes cloud over and her heart sinks.
But then, she's used to this. To think it would ever be different for very long is an exercise in futility.
He's rambling and mumbling out of exhaustion, so it's a good idea that he get home quick. And it seems both parties here trust that Lumindra will be able to get him out of Faerieland and into his Space Station unnoticed. Because the last thing Sloth needs is his minions or various other Neopets and faeries seeing him on his sworn enemy's arm wearing nothing by a purple towel.
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The interesting thing about the magic that sends her whooshing from one point to another is what it feels like when it's going on. It's probably not going to help his headache at all, certainly. It's a little bit like the first drop in a certain indoor roller coaster at a certain theme park that's big on mice. Dark, spotted with light, fast, disorienting...and weirdly fun.
They're now in his inner sanctum, the holiest of holies, where no minion dare tread. His bedroom.
"Here we are."
Reply
When the sense of motion stops and he can feel cold steel under his bare feet, the doctor finally lifts his head and looks around blearily. Oh thank God. Or whatever passes for a deity around this horrible place.
He's already stumbling in the direction of his bed and simply flops facefirst onto the mattress without a word. He doesn't move or bother to get under the sheets; he just lies there, completely drained from his little adventure in paint brush mishaps.
Though there is eventually a long, weary groan made into the covers his face is buried in.
Reply
Yeah, somebody doesn't know the wonders of alcohol. Otherwise she'd probably be getting him some of that booze he's got squirreled away.
She perches herself on the bed next to him, holding out the food near his head.
"You said you were hungry?"
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It's ages before he finally looks up at the offered food, then at the woman doing the offering.
"...I'ma wait until I'm sick first, okay?" Then he buries his face again. Hey, at least he didn't snarl at her or refuse it flat, right?
And it's only a few minutes later before he slumps off of the mattress and starts shuffling towards the bathroom. "Yup. Just a moment." Once he's in there and the door slides shut, there is the sound of retching and wet splattering. Lovely.
It's another long stretch of minutes before the door is open again. Sloth is now tying shut a black bathrobe with the familiar Virtupets logo embroidered on the left side of the chest, and the purple cloth Fyora had given him is in one hand. He actually looks a little better now that he's done that whole throwing up thing.
"So...Do I have to, like, return this to her or anything? Because I wiped my mouth on it."
Reply
Yeesh.
When he returns, she just shakes her head. "It was a gift. Besides, I think it's temporary until you get some real clothes on. I don't think the bathrobe counts, or it would have vanished."
The food is now resting on his bedside table, and she stands up off his bed. "Rest and eat. You'll feel better soon, I promise."
Reply
Instead, he's just going to stare at nothing in particular as he slouches on the side of his bed. "So...Was I a cute baby?" And he looks at Lumindra with a raised eyebrow as he waits for her response.
Reply
She's not in any rush to leave, so she flutters on over to a black leather arm-chair and perches herself on the edge of the seat.
"You were very serious, as well. A very serious baby."
Reply
That sandwich is finally starting to look tempting, so one green hand soon snatches it up and Sloth takes a huge bite out of it. And doing so snaps a few more memories back into focus. Oh yeah. Sandwich. That's what he was eating last he can recall. Hips' sammiches, to be precise.
"How long's it been?" He asks this sort of offhandedly at first, but then his chewing slows and his eyes go blank. And he asks it again, but in a more hushed, serious tone. "...How long has it been."
Reply
"I'm sorry, I had no idea anything was wrong at all. I'd not had any...calls. Since you vanished. I will admit to not paying as close attention as I could have, and I'm sorry. But..."
She trails off, looks away for a moment, before looking back at him, her eyes shining.
"I was having so much fun. I never had any headaches! Not one! It was amazing, Frank."
Reply
Then he's up and moving quickly, dropping the sandwich back onto its plate and hurrying out of the bedroom, making a beeline instead for his office. Going straight for his desk and pulling open drawers and rifling through papers, booting up his computer and tapping in passwords and file access rapidly.
To Lumindra, he only says sternly, "You need to leave. Now."
Reply
But then, she's used to this. To think it would ever be different for very long is an exercise in futility.
"Very well. Good bye."
She sighs, and vanishes.
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