A much quieter day...

[vicioussweetie]

I'm sorry to everyone I worried yesterday. As should now be clear, I really don't handle panic well.

Can we never speak of it again? I'd appreciate that.

We've decided on Delaine, I think. We both like it and it sounds nice...

Samus has learned one of the basic rules of magic.

Maxim and the other Jaegers are learning the problems with being

Comments

((after Styphon's post resolves itself))

[god_of_the_gun]

((cause time has no meaning... :P))

worried doesn't quite begin to cover it...
*his sunglasses are back--and pushed all the way back to cover his eyes--his hands are wrapped in bloody strips of cloth, his shirt is a little singed, and there's a certain cold edge in his voice that she's probably never heard before*

Re: ((after Styphon's post resolves itself))

[vicioussweetie]

"...Styphon...what happened to you?"

[god_of_the_gun]

mostly training...

also Merlin...

*he does his best to remain aloof, leaving his sunglasses exactly where they are for the moment*

[vicioussweetie]

"Your son?" She looks down a bit, holding out her hands. "Let me see."

[god_of_the_gun]

*he resists the urge to make some snide comment along the lines of "yes, that very Merlin" and instead turns around, wincing as he tries to extend his rather painful left wing*
it's mostly just the burns...

[vicioussweetie]

"Oh darling..." She studies the burns, then rests a hand very lightly against his back where she doesn't think he's been hurt. "Would you like me to heal you?"

[god_of_the_gun]

*that edge in his voice softens considerably--things must not be quite as bad as he thought for her to call him that*

that... would be great, thank you.

*if you listen very carefully, you can hear the sound of some pride being swallowed*

[vicioussweetie]

Seeing as his back is to her, he wouldn't see any change, but a moment later he'd smell lavender and feel something cool, then something warm on the burn. And maybe she turned a light on to work...? It'd explain the shift in where the shadows are cast.

[god_of_the_gun]

*he quirks an eyebrow... he may not be able to see a change, but those ambiguous Chi senses of his sure feel something going on back there... and whatever it is, it certainly smells nice*

[vicioussweetie]

There's no fanfare to her work. He just starts feeling better after a little while, though he's still sensitive in those spots. When she speaks, though...her voice is richer, velvety, like something being brushed against every nerve in his body. "Let me see your hands."

[god_of_the_gun]

*he starts to mutter an objection but is suddenly cut off by a great swell of common sense*
alright...
*he starts unwrapping his hands as he turns around... and then suddenly stops, his sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose in surprise*

[vicioussweetie]

She smiles softly, taking his hands and unwrapping them carefully. The colors of her hair shift like flames, though her hair does not itself move, and poking through it are long and tapered ears. Her gown appears to be red mists wrapped around her form, red clouds with silver linings.

Letting the bandages fall away, she pours a few drops of lavender oil onto them, using her fingertips to brush it across his skin.

[god_of_the_gun]

*his hands are arguably worse than his wing--covered in assorted cuts and bruises, quite clearly of a self-inflicted (in the sense that you can hardly blame a wall for you punching it) sort... careful inspection might even reveal that there are small slivers of metal embedded in most of the cuts*

*he offers no explanation, however, electing instead to gawk at compliment her... or try to think of an appropriate compliment, anyway... mostly he just gives her an oddly nervous grin*

[vicioussweetie]

"What did you do to yourself?" She glances up at him, then focuses on working the slivers of metal out of the cuts.

[god_of_the_gun]

I... may have gone slightly overboard with my penance training...
*sweatdrop*

[vicioussweetie]

She glances up again, and though she doesn't say anything, she clearly doesn't believe it was anything so simple. Instead, she lowers her gaze again, healing all the cuts and wounds she can be certain are clean.