Thread: Schuldich, Mahaado, and a Thousand-Year-Old Curative
Who: Schuldich, Mahaado [others...?]
What: Mahaado, hearing of Schuldich's headache, comes to bring him a cure of his own.
When: Post lunar massacre and this
Where: Schuldich's room.
Rating: Mmm..PG?
It had been a long day.
Between cleaning up the leftover blood, engaging in verbal skirmishes with a man who called himself the Ace of Spades, and worrying about those who had been injured and those who might, in the future, become injured, Mahaado found himself mentally exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that for the first time since his adolescence, he found himself wanting to either crawl into someone's lap or have someone else crawl into his. Of course, he would never allow that longing to reach any level of his thoughts but the lowest--he was, after all, a grown man with priorities--so he interpreted the pangs as simply wanting to do something.
That something came in Schuldich's request for headache medicine. It had been quite a long time since the mage had been granted the opportunity to excersize his healing skills, and he was never more grateful for it now. The techniques he used were ancient, but, he hoped, effective.
A reed basket filled with ingredients clutched to his side, Mahaado now stood outside Schuldich's door. He mustered his courage and knocked. "Pardon me." he called. "I believe you requested medicine?"
What: Mahaado, hearing of Schuldich's headache, comes to bring him a cure of his own.
When: Post lunar massacre and this
Where: Schuldich's room.
Rating: Mmm..PG?
It had been a long day.
Between cleaning up the leftover blood, engaging in verbal skirmishes with a man who called himself the Ace of Spades, and worrying about those who had been injured and those who might, in the future, become injured, Mahaado found himself mentally exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that for the first time since his adolescence, he found himself wanting to either crawl into someone's lap or have someone else crawl into his. Of course, he would never allow that longing to reach any level of his thoughts but the lowest--he was, after all, a grown man with priorities--so he interpreted the pangs as simply wanting to do something.
That something came in Schuldich's request for headache medicine. It had been quite a long time since the mage had been granted the opportunity to excersize his healing skills, and he was never more grateful for it now. The techniques he used were ancient, but, he hoped, effective.
A reed basket filled with ingredients clutched to his side, Mahaado now stood outside Schuldich's door. He mustered his courage and knocked. "Pardon me." he called. "I believe you requested medicine?"