Post by Sayvahn on Mar 13, 2017 1:10:46 GMT
Open to the ever Fabulous, Edelweiss Fjäril
No one had told him it was going to be easy. Though no one told him he was going to throw out his back either. First, it was humiliating. He wasn’t that old. Thirty Eight more or less (after all, he never truly knew when his birthday was, or how old he was when he was adopted) but that was beside the point. He was not that old. Though, apparently it wasn’t that too uncommon. But the worst thing is that he threw his back out while he was dancing, and when he fell, he did something bad. Did something very bad.
“You sprained it, alright,” one of the more experienced dancers spoke, putting an arm on his hips. Yes, smile away, Brad or Clarence or whatever your name was. Didn’t matter though. Sayvahn found himself limping to the dressing room, cursing as he tried to use a light healing spell to cure it but, well, it wasn’t strong enough. “For the love of—“ The feline cursed, struggling to put on pants, contemplating whether he should just go as Aida. Sadly, though, that would take more effort, even though the dress would have been a blessing— the corset, not so much.
Once pantsed and raring (as much as an ill man could be) to go, Sayvahn headed toward the only place he figured he could get a quick fix. And that was in a reasonable walking distance. Mainly the later. After all, MI had enough magic in it that he was bound to find someone (aside from Lasair) to heal him, but that was one, a walk, and two, awkward.
Thus, stepping into the CAEsAL headquarters was fairly easy. Finding his way to the infirmary, even more so. He had come to visit every now and then, but generally on “quiet” days, meaning when no one was really dying. Sighing, he hated relying on the gem children (or Edelweiss, for that matter) but he had a show tomorrow. Healing naturally was not really an option, and only Brad (Clarence?) had seen, so no one would know, and Brad, although a pain, was an Ander- and “different” as well. That’s why they trained together, even though they hated each other, but, at least they could complain together.
Limping into the infirmary, Sayvahn peeked his head into the thrall, trying to see if well, this was a good time to whine, “Edel, fix me.”
Was it? Only time, and a good pair of eyes (which he doubted he had, at this point) could tell.
No one had told him it was going to be easy. Though no one told him he was going to throw out his back either. First, it was humiliating. He wasn’t that old. Thirty Eight more or less (after all, he never truly knew when his birthday was, or how old he was when he was adopted) but that was beside the point. He was not that old. Though, apparently it wasn’t that too uncommon. But the worst thing is that he threw his back out while he was dancing, and when he fell, he did something bad. Did something very bad.
“You sprained it, alright,” one of the more experienced dancers spoke, putting an arm on his hips. Yes, smile away, Brad or Clarence or whatever your name was. Didn’t matter though. Sayvahn found himself limping to the dressing room, cursing as he tried to use a light healing spell to cure it but, well, it wasn’t strong enough. “For the love of—“ The feline cursed, struggling to put on pants, contemplating whether he should just go as Aida. Sadly, though, that would take more effort, even though the dress would have been a blessing— the corset, not so much.
Once pantsed and raring (as much as an ill man could be) to go, Sayvahn headed toward the only place he figured he could get a quick fix. And that was in a reasonable walking distance. Mainly the later. After all, MI had enough magic in it that he was bound to find someone (aside from Lasair) to heal him, but that was one, a walk, and two, awkward.
Thus, stepping into the CAEsAL headquarters was fairly easy. Finding his way to the infirmary, even more so. He had come to visit every now and then, but generally on “quiet” days, meaning when no one was really dying. Sighing, he hated relying on the gem children (or Edelweiss, for that matter) but he had a show tomorrow. Healing naturally was not really an option, and only Brad (Clarence?) had seen, so no one would know, and Brad, although a pain, was an Ander- and “different” as well. That’s why they trained together, even though they hated each other, but, at least they could complain together.
Limping into the infirmary, Sayvahn peeked his head into the thrall, trying to see if well, this was a good time to whine, “Edel, fix me.”
Was it? Only time, and a good pair of eyes (which he doubted he had, at this point) could tell.