Who: everyone and their hopefully still living mothers...
When: June 1st and onward
Where: EVERYWHERE
Format: action or prose, whichever works!
What: The war is over, and everyone can relax. Or cry. Whichever.
Warnings: n/a?
PATROL HEADQUARTERS THE DOJO THE CLINIC ( ooc | did the major locations! but add others, and i will update the entry with
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she considers dematerializing, but then, she would just feel the pain deeper - no point to waste her magic, either. it's nothing serious, and others will need it, as survivors push through the wreckage. it's familiar, anyway, and in a way that is satisfying. she was meant for this.
if shirley had it in her, if the weight of others' suffering were not upon her, she would laugh. because this is what belzac had meant, and the realization burns a cool shame through her. how had she forgotten?
(she can't say she really minds, though. it's purpose and one so much better than the idleness of her shrine.)
but for now, she rests. really rests as she brings her knees to her chest, her head against a corner wall, and her white cloak - grimy at the bottom and vaguely bloodied but with the hints of the bright fading into cream - wrapped around her. a bed or chair would be nicer, but patients need those; besides, the choice was sudden, as she slid down the wall to sit. the sleep that is coming? that is sudden, too.]
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The first reason on his list goes unchecked (to his dismay), but he quickly completes one when he finds Shirley sleeping in a corner. Her work must have been extremely tiring if she was in such a condition, and he's not surprised. Kneeling down by the wall, Roxas watches her for a moment before conjuring up a Curaga circle beneath them with a bit of effort. He's not sure if it would help her tiredness, but he can already feel the aches and pains from the battlefield seeping away. It's the least he could do.]
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There are others who need it more.
[but some of the tension in her back and feet is seeping away, and her headaches dulls a little. his magic can't fix the cause: noise.]
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[More than what he could give with the amount of energy he has left to conjure up a few more Curaga spells.]
Sorry if I woke you up. [He pauses awkwardly before putting on an apologetic smile.]
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Quite alright.
[and she smiles, slightly.]
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Ummm, that girl I brought in-- is she still in the same room? And...is she doing better?
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Her leg is healed. She should be across the street with uninjured survivors.
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Alright, I'll check up on her later. But thank you... [Another awkward pause.] Sorry, I don't think I caught your name.
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[and she tips her head, slightly. her smile grows, polite but controlled; it is nice to see a smile after the chaos, though.]
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[A native rushing by and Roxas presses his shoulder against the wall as his expression grows a little more serious.]
After all this...when things start to really calm done, I need to talk to you.
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shirley nods.]
Then, you will know where to find me.
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I'm going to head out. Gotta keep looking for my friend.
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[not many of the scorched died, and the news would travel fast. so. it's a matter of time.]
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(part of him wonders what it would have been like if the papal army had not followed him from rome.)
it's a long day, shoulder rides and questions, but it ends with the babby asleep, something he needs himself. so, he carries her back to the clinic, in hopes of finding a parent, or a guardian. shirley had said that he'd be tired eventually; he'd been preoccupied at the time, but it sounds like a good idea now.
hi, shirley, are you done sleeping yet...? ]
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she wonders how long she has been asleep since roxas found her. tips her head to look at them and only moves enough to stretch her legs, suede boots peeking from under her cloak.]
Was she much trouble?
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