FTEC, Monday [11/28]

[hotceltogoth]

"Hey, Neets," Ronan said, when his call connected. He was at the front desk -- a little late, maybe, but he was distracted enough that he'd half-forgotten what day it was -- with coffee, worry in his voice.

The number of wizards back home kept going down; he was afraid to check for names of people he knew, at this point, but between the problems

Comments

[icecoldfrost]

In the end, Emma had needed to walk over the Causeway herself, dammit, because the gnome was incompetent.

"Mexico ended early in a shoot-out, and they cancelled my portal," she announced abruptly as she marched in and opted to sit on the front desk. "It turns out my handsome mariachi player doesn't just brood handsomely and play like an angel, he also gets in gunfights with people and the whole place got shot up. Including my phone. Tell me you have antiseptic here, and band-aids, because I'm rather sure I got tetanus."

Hello, Ronan. Emma would say she missed you - which would be true - but she's missed running water more at this point.

"...tell me I can still sleep on your couch or I might cry, darling."

[hotceltogoth]

"Emma, love, remember who you're talking to," Ronan said, torn between laughing and banging his head against the desk at her... predicament. "There's a whole room set aside for you, and I can do far better than antiseptic and plasters. Wizard, remember?" He grinned and nodded towards the exam rooms. "Although I'd be happy to treat you mundane if you'd like; I'm more than capable."

[So LJ is being dumb about my comments today -- I keep getting a blank talkpost_do.bml page -- so I may be a little slow. But I shall persevere!]

[icecoldfrost]

"If you can wizard-ly wash my hair, go for it," she sighed, giving him a pout. "I feel utterly filthy, and not in the fun way. I never want to see that much dirt ever again."

[no worries, doing the same to me. that comment took six tries.]

[hotceltogoth]

Okay, that one startled a laugh out of Ronan. "Let's leave that for the actual shower, shall we?" he suggested. "Not that I blame you for the suggestion, but it's honestly far more trouble than it's actually worth.

"Want to come back and I can take a look at the injuries? Anything small enough I probably should save power and just use a bandage on, but if it's large enough to need stitches or anything, I'll heal it up for you."

[izzyalienqueen]

After a therapeutic visit at Dite's, Isabel made her way to the clinic. Thanks to a little alien-fu, the plate of cookies she carried was still warm and smelling delicious.

"It came down to either cleaning or cooking," she said as she came through the door. "Today I picked cooking. Well, baking. Here. For you."

[hotceltogoth]

Ronan grinned. "Thanks, love, those smell delicious."

He set his phone aside, wondering if he should hold off, or... No, probably not. "So I think I've found a way to get home safely," Ronan explained. "For a quick trip. The biggest problem is potentially changing coordinates, right? On the other end -- nothing here is changing, so far as we can tell. But I talked to Nita, and she believed me about what's going on; she's agreed to feed coordinates for me so I can pop over and check on a few people."

[izzyalienqueen]

Isabel's first thought was to argue against Ronan leaving the island. That it wasn't safe. That she didn't want to lose another person. But then she thought about how she'd feel if her family was still back in Roswell.

"That's good." Just ignore the distinct lack of enthusiasm in her voice. "When do you think you're going to go?"

[hotceltogoth]

"I was planning for after my shift," Ronan said, "but Emma's made it into town, so I'm going to make sure she gets settled. Probably tomorrow, now."

The extra time made him worry -- but what were the chances that anything was going to go wrong in, what, an extra twelve hours?