[Catholicon] What Goes Up, Must Come Down (Ollic)

by **Arysana** on January 5th, 2014, 10:09 am

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | oocHaha - how did I know that something like this was going to happen? XD Now Sana gets to have some emotional turmoil of her own! It took me a little while to reply because I really had no idea how I was going to approach the issue. Scream? Scream and cry?The 'My lady' bit killed me.

Sana didn't like how things were developing. Ollic, a certain bravery he had, there was no doubt (Well, it was either bravery or stupidity that got him up there in the first place - and Sana was more inclined to think the former), but he seemed to be faltering slightly. "Careful," she murmured, keeping her voice quite and to herself, as though the faintest whisper could harm or hinder him as he climbed.

She bided her own heart to slow, and breath to even, as Ollic neared the same little section that fell her. It wasn't quite the same, given she'd taken a path had had her lower set, with more boughs and branches to hit, the ground rather clear. Ollic? Oh, no, he'd gotten himself a little wayward from where she'd expected him to go. "You're ok, you're doing-" her breathing hitched as Ollic hazarded a glance downwards, shyke." She felt her stomach give way as she saw the tell tale signs of panic, her fear going to regret, then shortly shifting to anger then worry. 'Ollic, you idiot.'

"Don't-" By the time she'd managed to force sound from her mouth there was little she could do but watch. A silent scream left her, her body tensed and froze, eyes widened and mouth agape. 'No.' The next few scenes that played out before her didn't seem real. Her entire form went rigid, the weight of the air bore down on chest, her words wouldn't take form on her lips. It wasn't even the sound of Ollic hitting the ground that brought her back. That god awful sound, the snap and the crunch and the impact of her gear, every little break ringing in her ears.

It was too fast. She still hadn't caught up. He gave a slight movement, and it was as though the earth had shifted below Sana's feet. He said something, so quiet it was almost drowned in the white noise that had shortly stolen her hearing, the relief that hit her had almost bawled her over. She opened her mouth speak, to ask if he was alright and if there was anything she could do, but they caught in her throat at the sight of that stupid little smile of his. If he didn't die, she'd kill him herself later.

It was the screams that truly ripped her back to reality. That sweet, lovely voice of his turned wretched, the coarseness and tone so wrought with pain that it almost enticed a similar one from her own lips. Her knees nearly buckled beneath her, but she managed with jolt and stumble to fall by Ollic's side. She didn't know what in Gods' names needed to be done, forced upon herself calm. She'd had her moment of turmoil, of upheaval and fear. She needed to shut it down, and do what had to be done. "Ollic," she began, not quite sure where else there was to go.

She sat higher on her knees as she bent over him, the tips of her fingers brushing his cheek as she tried to get a good look at him. "Ollic, are you alr-" 'Does he look alright?' "What do you want me to do?" Her breathing steadied, then, her offer of aid setting a piece of mind, enough to steel her mind such that she could bear the sight of his arm. She bite her lip as her gaze swept over it. 'Gods, he must be in pain.' She threw a look in the direction of The Catholicon, before bringing her gaze back to Ollic.

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Arysana Elthorne

Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on January 5th, 2014, 7:42 pm

Opening his eyes from a moment of sheer terror, Ollic noticed that Arysana was kneeling beside her, her face a mask of too many unnecessary emotions. He wished he would never have to see her like that again. He had done something stupid, and she had had to watch him accomplish a dire defeat.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked him, her own voice stumbling upon the realms of coarse and filled with sorrow, a whispery accent as if she were about to cry. However, as soon as it was there, she had regained her composure just as Ollic had hoped she would, for he was in no state of mind to think rationally and had hoped that she could pull through and decipher the problems at hand.

At first, Ollic didn’t know what she should do. He was in far too much pain to think, let alone move or guide her through what needed to be done to guarantee his safety. Right now, through clenched teeth and watery eyes, Ollic started to repress important thoughts and facts. What needed to be done when someone had a broken arm? What needed to be done to dull the pain? His mind was awhirl and the corners of his eyes were beginning to become fuzzy and dark. He fought to stay conscious, however as he tried with all his might to sit himself up.

“I need,” he huffed, “to get up.”

He saw that Arysana was in distress, distracted and continuously looking over her shoulder at the Catholicon. Ollic silently agreed with her that that is where they must go, but would he be able to make it? Was there time to send for help to put him out of his misery?

Shaking his head of negative thoughts, something he wished he could have done before he began climbing that mountain of pain, he stabilized his left hand on the ground and used it as support to help push him up into a sitting position. Stabs of searing pain greeted him, and although everything in his right arm was numb, he continued to ward off all things.

Suddenly a warm liquid filled his mouth and before he knew it, he was spitting out blood. Feeling around his mouth for the source, he wished to the gods that he wasn’t dying from the inside out. As if being graced in response, he noticed that he had bitten through the outer edges of his tongue as a result from all his teeth clenching.

Staring into the sunlight, Ollic managed to get his knee underneath him, resembling a similar position as the frightened woman beside him.

Grunting and whimpering like a child, and absentmindedly cursing at him from being to careless and weak, he called out to Arysana, his vision going in and out of focus.

“I need for you to… go underneath my-“ he kept taking large breathes of air as his eyelids got slightly heavy- “my arm. I need for you to… support me. I can’t walk on my… on my own.” A smile, to reassure her that everything was going to be okay.

He was still terrified to look at the damage he had put upon himself, so to avoid making contact with that side, Ollic kept his eyes on Arysana the entire time.

He was going to get through this, but there better be some pain killers they will give him right away or else this will be a hell of a ride. And just to make his point clear, Ollic stuttered out a weak, “I feel like shyke,” before regaining focus.

by **Arysana** on January 8th, 2014, 8:07 am

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

Nodding quickly to herself, Sana shoved the few things that threatened to spill from her back pack and scrambled them together, before slinging a strap over her shoulder as she set her gaze hard on Ollic. Right, up. He needed to get up. She cringed as she watched him pull himself together, constantly smothering thoughts of worry and working her jaw, knuckles whitening as she clenched her right fist so tight her nails dug into her flesh.

There were reasons why she never even considered to work with medicine; the pain that contorted Ollic's kind features, the sight of the blood that left his mouth, and the worry that was incited within her being core reasons of such. She couldn't handle the cough of a child without giving a short, aimless, prayer. She couldn't speak to one injured without wishing them a speedy recovery, or fervently hope that their pain quickly receded. Any pain that was not her own was one she could not handle too well (save for those whose character left her with no reason care).

Another steady breath left her, and she released her fist as she pressed herself to remain useful, her own splinted wrist and it's restrictions bearing down on her. She rose slightly, movement matching Ollic's unsteady sways as she ensured that she was always in a position or movement to act however needed. Was he alright standing on his own? Would trying to offer aid unasked be more of a hindrance than aid? She kept herself on guard, almost speaking her desire to be made of help when such was requested. She wasn't sure how to take the smile that he threw her, and gave a tired giggle as he gave a short note on how he felt.

"You don't look all that much better," she managed, dragging herself up from her odd kneeling position, almost openly admitting her joy in Ollic's height falling closer to the 'average' side, as apposed to 'ridiculously tall'. Great, she was already falling to cheap humour.

She didn't take joy in trying to take the position that Ollic asked of her, not for the strain - she was stronger than she looked - but for the pain that she knew would before the one she aimed to help. She wasn't nearly as gentle as she wished to be, and when she ducked under his left arm and held him in the most secure manner she could manage, she was bitterly aware about how she had to trade tenderness for support. "I'm sorry," She said, a cringe taking form on her face, and her words said through gritted teeth as she worked around her own injury. "I'm sorry-You're alright, You're ok. Ok?" A short intake of air. "Ready?"

She held her breath as she eased him upwards, biting her tongue as she drowned out the sounds of agony she was sure left the man. She tasted iron and felt a shudder shoot down her spine, and she couldn't help the riveting flinch that soon followed, another short, pained and clipped "Sorry" leaving her lips. She adjusted herself again under Ollic's weight, neither sure how to hold herself or where to rest her right hand, with her left remaining awkward and held close.

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Arysana Elthorne

Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on January 10th, 2014, 11:56 pm

As if she had provoked someone to put their weapon to her back, Arysana jumped into duty and slung her backpack over her shoulder, moving toward Ollic and his pained face, his nose all scrunched up, a small trickle of blood dripping down the side of his face and his eyes full of self-hatred.

She did as she was asked to do and helped Ollic up so that he was leaning against her better side. Sure he wasn’t the strongest guy out there and was often picked on as a child for being short and lean, but in comparison to Arysana he felt tall and muscular.

She swayed as if by an act of unbalanced, worrying Ollic into helping her out a little. She was an aid, she wasn’t doing everything for him and he needed to make sure of that.

Mumbling something that was too quiet for her to hear, he assured her that he was okay, for she was thinking out loud, reassuring Ollic as well as herself that he was going to be okay.

He nodded. He was going to be fine. He just hoped the blood he felt running down his cheek didn’t frighten her into thinking that he was bleeding internally. Something that severe would devastate anyone.

She kept telling him that she was sorry, the words barely audible from underneath her breath as if she was trying to mask them. She shouldn’t be sorry and Ollic wanted her to know it. It wasn’t her fault. It was a simple task she had offered and asked him to do for her. He didn’t have to accept it, but he did. And although she had given him valid assistance in climbing that cliff, he had ignored it and had thrown himself into a sizzling pot of idiocy. It wasn’t her fault and frankly if it weren’t for her he wouldn’t have taken another risk for a few more seasons if that.

However, he needed to let her know, not just think about it. She couldn’t read his mind and although it would be impossible, he wished he couldn’t either.

“Sana,” he said, striking him strange that he had called her by the nickname she had requested. “This isn’t your fault,” he whimped through continuous grit teeth.

“I was the stupid one.”

He looked down at her, or more like looked directly into her eyes, being only a few inches taller than she was. He despised how short he had grown to be and wished he could grow a few more inches, but doubted the possibility.

He caught a glimpse of her irises and felt more guilt welling up inside of him as he struggled to maintain his own balance but felt woozy and wobbly as if he was far too drunk to be alive.

As if by miracle, he kept his balance as they took their first few steps, Ollic moaning and grunting the entire way they had come. It was a longer trek than he had remembered, but due to the pain he had no logic on the brain.

A few unfamiliar tree branches passed and although the silence was awkward and Ollic didn’t do well during awkward times, he couldn’t come to making small talk. His mind was elsewhere whether it was due to the shock of falling and hurting his arm or for the fact that the pain had subdued him into another dimension.

His eyelids felt heavy as if large weights were pressing down on them, and they were winning.

“Arysana,” he mumbled drowsily, “I think we should take a break.” But he knew that was unwise and made no attempt to stop although he wanted to so desperately. He needed to stay strong. They were already more than halfway back to the Catholicon. And then Ollic remembered something and just that simple thoughts sent his eyelids snapping open in repulse.

“Petch!” he shouted, his furious voice vibrating off the forests rocks and trees. He wouldn’t be surprised if residents in the city had heard him.

“I forgot about those damn stairs.”

Squeezing his eyes closed and willing the throbbing ache he had in his temples, he tried to think of an alternative to get to the building, however, all that came to him were questions and frantic and frustrated ones at that.

Why had they even made so many stairs? What about the patients whom were immobile to reach the top? Why was Lhavit such a magnificent and tall city? Why was it so big? Why was that rock over there covered in so much moss? Why was the ground rotating?

But it wasn’t rotating, it was tilting because Ollic hadn’t kept his fair share of the weight he was possessing upon Arysana. His right leg gave out from underneath him and he not-so-gracefully kneeled to the forest floor.

“Meh,” he muttered, looking up and seeing the apparent physical attributes of a tower, presumably the Catholicon, or so he hoped. He was almost there. Everything was going to be okay. Okay.

“I’m okay,” he said to his assisting hand, getting back to his feet and sighing loudly. His tongue was numb, and his words sounded funny, but he never laughed.

He grumbled and once returning back to his random thinking he happened to spill some of his opinions out loud.

“Why’s the hospital so far away?” he whined, sounding much like a child, and although the situation surely didn’t call for any laughter, he couldn’t help himself.

He let out a small chuckle almost as silent as light rain hitting against leaves and started to pant like a dog. This was so stressful for him in such a condition, and as sweat started to drip off his face and onto Arysana’s shoulder, he let his emotions get the best of him.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, “I’m getting sweat all over you.” This time his words were a little bit more enunciated, but still not regular and to anyone else, it might even be hard to decipher.

And then the whining came back.

“Why does there have to be so many stairs?” and then some muddled thinking, “Why is the sky that colour?” with an added, “My feet hurt.”

And again he apologized for his whining before continuing it again, limping slightly as his right leg was getting heavy like his eyelids were once more.

No breaks, he told himself. We’re almost there. But he couldn’t help it. He dropped to the floor again and stayed down there, smelling the moss and feeling the grass with his good hand.

“I’m so sorry.”

by **Arysana** on January 12th, 2014, 4:22 am

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

When Ollic hit the ground the first time, a keen fear and worry washed over Arysana in a solid wave, almost falling herself beside him, with the small smile that had taken form at the Vantha's own complaints of the Catholicon's damn stairs falling from her lips. She could scarcely complain, however, the woman taking the short moment to stretch her arms and roll her shoulders, a burning ache and tightness already inflaming her shoulder. When her favourite words as of late were spilled of Ollic's lips - 'I'm Okay' -she gave a light breath of relief and took a short glance to The Catholicon.

They were getting closer, but she still had little hope without Ollic's compliance. Another awkward pull and shove, and she was back in her supportive position, very well giving up on trying to find a position that was comfortable for herself.

If it wasn't the sheer expression of agony that contorted his features, or the slump and stumble to his valiant attempts at walking that shattered her, it was the babble that soon left him. Muddled, complaining, childish and wrecked. She wanted to giggle and poke the conversion further, cry and scream and slap him all at once. "Don't you dare worry about me," she shortly said, her words soft and clipped. She was fine. She couldn't care less for blood or sweat or dirt, nor dwell too long on her own pain. What mattered was Ollic.

How could she even consider the state of her shirt or skin when he could barely make a coherent word? If she hadn't been living with common for so long, and understood it from a foreigner's perspective, she doubted she'd have been able to piece together the attempts at sounds and conclude what it was he was trying to say. Gods, he was worse than her younger brother. 'Why does there have to be so many stairs?' 'Gods, didn't I ask you the same thing? I wouldn't be surprised if the idea was to deter people from injuring themselves.' 'Why is the sky that colour?' She shot a short glance upwards, then, 'I... I have no idea.' 'My feet hurt.' 'Now you're just being a sweet little boy, Ollic.'

More apologies came, along with further chatter, and Arysana's breath was beyond too quick to bother entertaining an answer, though she did try. Then next time he went down, the thud was louder, his breath heavier and slump lower. She heard an attempt at an apology, and knelt down by him, resting her own good hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Ollic," she said, words light but stern. "You're almost there, we can do this - you'll be fine."

She let her gaze dwell on the Catholicon, 'Petching stairs... how are we going to do this?' "You get a short rest so long you promise you'll get up again." She continued, bringing in a certain 'motherly' voice as she spoke. At least, as much of an authoritative voice she could manage with a heaving chest and breathless words.

She let another dozen ticks move by, before she decided that she was going to make the last press for the stairs. "Alright, you've had your break. One step at a time - look how close we are. We'll get to the stairs and see how you are, understood?" She figured he wasn't in any position to fight her words or decisions, and was already hauling him up and to his feet before she finished her words.

She forced herself to keep her grip firmer, denying any slump downwards and nipping any fall or collapse to the ground before it truly began. Her entire right side was on fire, even her splinted left as she made use of herself in any way necessary, pushing her own apparently not-so-tough body to pick up every ounce of Ollic's slack. There was an awkward speed to her movements, slightly jerky as she found herself trying to make haste only to stop and slow to catch her breath.

She felt horrid for decidedly ignoring Ollic, tuning in and out of the world as she pushed her mind off the pain and ensured that there was nothing of importance said, adjusting her hold on his as her own sweat had her begin to slip. By the time they'd made it to the base of the stair, and she allowed Ollic the choice of rest or to continue, she'd already vowed to find the nearest bath and boil in its waters for a bell, at least.

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Arysana Elthorne

Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on January 25th, 2014, 4:54 pm

His legs were burning, probably from the incorrect way he was walking on them. His ankles were complaining as well, sending sharp pains up the sides of Ollic’s lower legs. His shins were on fire and even his thighs were pulsing rampantly.

Sweat drenched his forehead and his eyes were slowly drooping, giving no sense of accomplishment. They were still so far from the Catholicon and from a desperate individual’s point of view, Ollic wasn’t interested in how much progress they had made- he was interested in how much he still had to go.

Tasting the blood in his mouth from the time he had bitten his tongue made Ollic’s stomach churn. He quickly spit out what was left inside his mouth and wished for a glass of water. His head pounded and instinctively he bit his tongue again to keep from complaining again. This made him cringe, his tongue swelling more than it already was.

As if he was the athlete and she was the coach, Arysana kept cheering him on, telling him that they were almost there and that he could do it and that he was doing well and making progress. As much as he liked the empathy and comfort of Sana’s words, all he wished for right now was silence. Pure silence. Actually, he wished he could take a short nap…

…but it was abruptly interrupted when Arysana slashed through the silence with authority in her voice telling him that his rest was over. She helped him up and they were at it again.

Trying to keep his mind off of what was going on right now since its boring attributes made time go by slower, he found the base of the stairs at his feet a lot quicker than he had anticipated.

He thought a cheer was in order, but his mouth was too dry to form any words, so instead of saying anything, he took the first step and nearly fell backwards. His knee ached and popped in resistance, but Ollic continued, summoning strength he didn’t think he could.

They had made a few steps and a few more and a few more after that and before they knew it, whether it felt like bells, they had made it to the top and had entered the front doors, the elaborate doors that led into the hands of medical professionals, someone of which Ollic was needing at that very moment.

He was dehydrated, sore and in pain due to his broken arm and bitten tongue, a tongue of which couldn’t formulate words because it was so swollen. When he called for someone, jibberish exited his mouth instead of basic common.

A young man wearing all the official doctoral wear rushed over at the sight of Ollic, his arm twisted into a strange position, his forehead covered with beads of sweat, his balance tempting the line of having none and his eyes too droopy to open all the way.

The orderly took over for Arysana, grabbing Ollic from under his arm and began to lead him down the hallway toward a personal room to which he would be taken care of.

He turned to Arysana quickly before the two had gotten far and with eyes the colour of raindrops, he asked her if she would continue to stay with him when they treated his arm.

“Will you come?” he mumbled although it sounded foreign and hardly audible. He tried again, louder this time and with more enunciation. He only hoped she understood him. He couldn’t bear to be alone right now.

Secret :

by **Arysana** on January 28th, 2014, 12:51 am

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

The stairs, unlike Sana had first assumed, proved to not be as great a burden as the trip itself. Perhaps Ollic's pain had reached a point where it was numb? Or he simply no longer carried the will to continue voicing his worries and complaints? The thought left a sickness to her gut, and has she not been busying herself in the act of giving Ollic aid, she felt that she'd surely ruin herself with over thought.

She'd barely noticed the distance they'd walked by the time they neared the top, mind a whirl with sickening thought and wrought with worry, the ruckus of her mind drowning out the world and leaving her blind.

She almost tripped and fell them both when the final step was taken, a surge of relief hitting her too soon, and form swaying ever so slightly before she managed to catch herself and press forwards.

Sana pressed herself to speak, a shudder shooting through her when she heard Ollic struggle for words before she could muster a single syllable on her own lips. It was a horrible feeling, twisted and sick and it stole her breath. There he was, battered and bruised and pained, speech a struggle and chest heaving, and he was doing inherently better than she.

Comfort and dealing with another's pain was something she'd never been able to deal with. This time was no different. She could never find the right words nor actions, she didn't no which sentence would soothe and which would enrage, and when the doctor took her place and hauled Ollic towards Gods-knew-where, she was mildly content to stand frozen still in place, gaze hard on their backs. Would he be alright? He was in care, now, so surely he'd be fine?

When Sana took note of the Vantha's turn, she rose her hand in caution as her body threw her a step closer, her heart rate taking yet another rapid increase before she quite realised that he wasn't about to fall or give out. His words, what was he saying? She took several steps forwards, as though shortening the distance would bring the words back louder, before sense came to her and her stomach dropped. "Yes," her words came out with a rigid breath, gaze shortly flitting to the doctor, who seemed to pay no mind to the development, urging further movement down the hall.

They passed room after room, Sana keeping her pace as she through short glances within those with open doors, mind not in sorts to care for the route they look, which turns and which halls, the time it took for the doctor to find the room best suited excruciatingly long, though the length itself paled in comparison to that which they'd walked in the first place.

The next hurdle was placed before her, stand or sit? A short survey of the room had her decide on the later, offering her assistance to the doctor and Ollic both, before planning on taking an unused chair by the injured Vantha. Right. She could do this. She did it for Kana and Kade half a dozen times over when they were children, she could do this for Ollic now.

OOC :

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Arysana Elthorne

Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on January 28th, 2014, 1:51 am

His body slackened immensely at the way Arysana accepted to be with him when he went through with the entire ‘putting the bone back into place’ and ‘stabilizing the wounded ailment’ and ‘being given pain medication if needed or asked for among procedure’. He was just overall glad that he wasn’t going to be alone.

Taking a few steps forward at a tentative pace, Arysana soon found stride with Ollic and the doctor. Ollic tried to motion for her to join him up at the front, but he never gave any sign, his free arm that wasn’t being used by the doctor to hold him up was far too fatigued to accomplish any motion.

Walking down the hallway was another journey all in itself. The stairs were one thing, the hallway was another. The two were separable difficulty levels, but the feeling in walking in a straight line messed with Ollic’s perception.

The walls seemed to close around him and the doctor felt like water ripping throughout his arm. The sounds were soon extremely loud and pierce his ear drum. The busy-bodies that briskly bustled by were like ghosts- a figment of his imagination. He knew he was probably beyond dehydrated, not having anything to drink since last night and having perspired so much he wasn’t amazed at why.

Shortly after closing and opening his eyes about a dozen times, a room seemed to manifest in front of him, the doctor ushering Ollic inside and having him sit down in the patient’s sit that stood in the middle of the room. Arysana helped here as he plummeted into the chair, as if realising that it was nap time.

The wall’s pallid colours helped calm Ollic’s sense of claustrophobia as the doctor closed the door behind him and walked up to Ollic to get a closer inspection of the issue that was at hand.

“Ma erm,” Ollic mumbled as he head lolled to the side, willing himself to take a look at his injury. He almost vomited, and actually gagged for a few seconds at the sight of what had occurred to him out by the cliff he had so boldly, yet immaturely tried to concur.

His right arm was cocked backwards, his elbow facing the wrong direction. Luckily no bones protruded out from within his skin and no blood was anywhere on the wound. The only internal liquid that came from Ollic was his severed tongue which he had bitten from the pain he had been in.

Everything was throbbing- his head, his legs, his arm and his tongue, yet he somehow felt numb. He claimed to himself that nothing had happened, that everything that had just occurred had been a dream- a nightmare, but it wasn’t that easy.

He looked at his arm again and ended up screaming at the sight, this time becoming fully aware that he had messed up his arm pretty well due to the fact that he had never climbed before. A wonderful job on his part.

Ollic couldn’t help but laugh at his inner hint at sarcasm. The doctor probably thought he was going into a state of hysteria, something that usually occurred upon or after injury.

A trauma, that was the word. Ollic now had suffered through a trauma and now had a story to tell anyone who was willing to lend an ear to hear him out. A broken arm, the angle disarranged as it was, was something interesting to listen about.

Almost directly after Ollic had sat down, the doctor gave him something saying that it was to take the pain away. Ollic took it as fast as he was able to and waited.

“Alright sir,” began the doctor as he rummaged around the cabinetry and the counter top for all the necessary equipment he needed to perform his magic. “I need for you to remain calm and as still as you possibly can.”

Ollic didn’t like the sound of that. The doctor’s tone of voice was all off and he sounded too stern. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

“This might hurt,” and under his breath he added, “a lot.”

And that is why Ollic had a bad feeling about the doctor’s body language and tone of voice. For that particular reason he hated being a patient. He was completely fine in being a doctor for a patient, but when it came to being the one that is either sick or injured, he hated everything there was to it.

“Awright,” Ollic started to say but the doctor was way ahead of him.

The gloves were already on and as Ollic wasn’t expecting anything for at least a few seconds, the impact was almost immediate. It felt like he was being thrown into an avalanche, the pain was excruciating. A shrill cry escaped Ollic’s lips, his teeth no longer clenched together from the discomfort he had engaged in on the way here. It was that bad.

“What the petch?” he shouted as a few stray tears slid down his cheeks. He tried to brush them away but the doctor kept him still. He was going to have to deal with crying in front of a woman- how embarrassing. His dignity had been lost once more- once at the cliff when he had made a possibly fatal mistake and another right at this very moment.

“I’m sorry about that,” the doctor told him as he pulled out a sling and slid it onto Ollic’s arm, wrapping the end pieces over his shoulder and tying it into a knot so that it wouldn’t move or slide off.

Breathing heavily now, his chest rising and falling rapidly, Ollic managed to catch a glimpse of Arysana out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head slightly to see her more accurately he noticed her pallid face.

Ollic wanted nothing more than to make Arysana content again, to give her reassurance that everything was fine. Sure, the whole entire putting the bone back into its original place was pretty gruesome, and Ollic had proven himself weak by his little gag episode a few chimes back.

Resting his head back on the chair, he closed his eyes and exhaled.

The doctor was accomplishing a few other small things, tweaking with Ollic’s arm and checking out the rest of his body to make sure nothing else seemed to be damaged. A few scrapes and a few new bruises were all that was visible until the doctor noticed the blood that had dried to the corners of Ollic’s mouth and onto his chin.

“My is that what I think-“

“I bit ma tonf,” Ollic told him, opening his eyes to see the doctor’s initial reaction. No internal bleeding here. He was not going to be put under surveillance, for he would die of both embarrassment and anxiety due to being the centre of attention.

“Let me wipe that up for you then,” said the doctor as he rushed over to grab a wet rag. Returning he stated to dab at the crusty blood until his face was as clean as it had been before the incident.

“Open up.”

And Ollic opened his mouth obligingly.

“Just as I thought,” said the man in the white coat, “from that amount of bleeding I’d have said you had bitten through your tongue and I was correct. You’ll need some stitches.”

Rolling his eyes, Ollic lolled his head to the side again, glancing at Arysana to make sure she was still there. She was there all right, her eyes holding a look of concern. It felt good to be cared about whether the two were still complete strangers.

There was a pregnant pause before the doctor found the needed utensils to give Ollic the necessary stitches. The thread, the sewing needle and a few pads of gauze for the saliva and the potential blood, he began to carry out with his job.

Ollic soon found himself grabbing for Arysana’s hand, hoping that she would take it. Sure they were complete strangers, but the only thing left was the stitches and something that took so long to do was deliberately torturing Ollic with anticipation.

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by **Arysana** on January 31st, 2014, 5:31 am

Speech | Thoughts

A horrified intrigue took Sana over, face ashen and eyes narrowed, caught between watching in a daze and averting her gaze.

The doctor seemed to look and act with little faltering, no worries or remarks save for those that she thought to be technical. Was he unflappable by nature, or had he simply seen such sights time enough that there was little to them?

She wasn't sure which thought she liked better, both flaring some upturning of her stomach as she dwelt on them. To be not easily unnerved by nature was one thing, and understandable enough, but the thought of what one could do when things such as bloody and gruesome stirred little emotion sent a shiver up her spine.

Equally sickening, she found, was the thought of one such as Ollic eventually finding himself so steel faced. What sights would need to be seen? How many lives lost or limbs removed? She was getting ahead of herself, then, and she had to shortly remind herself of where she was and why.

Sana could feel the colour drain from her face, constantly glancing among Ollic's wound, his contorted expression, and the motions and actions of the doctor at hand. Should there be a nurse? Or an aid? Were they understaffed, or perhaps the Vantha not injured enough to warrant one's presence? Gods, he was going to be alright, wasn’t he? She backwheeled as she sorted through the words that were thrown, trying to find something of relevance in layman’s terms enough for her frantic mind to easily grasp.

The clamour inside her mind had drowned the world something shocking, against her own wishes, and it wasn't until Ollic once more gave that god awful scream that she gathered her bearings, the curses and tears that followed sliding ice through her veins.

Her mouth went dry, and it slowly fell slack as she watched the scene unfold. Why was she even there? She was in someone’s presence when they were at such a gut wrenching low, the mere fact that the number of bells they’d known one another were small enough to be counted on a single hand of no benefit to the situation. There were people she knew for years that she wouldn’t let see her in such a moment.

A look to the door invoked a feeling of unrivalled guilt, welling heavy in her stomach as it anchored her to the floor. She couldn’t leave him, not after he’d gone to such; she assumed them to have been painful, lengths to call her in after in the first place. Her stomach wasn’t one to handle the unwarranted agony of others well, but neither could it deal with the mere thought of abandoning someone.

Every action, every motion, every turn and twist and movement was drawn out and painful, made all the more worse by Sana’s utter uselessness.

When Ollic reached for her hand, a shudder ripped through her, before she took it firmly and swallowed hard. He'd made it through the work done with his arm, was what was to come really so horrid that he felt taking her hand was needed insurance?

The thought of needle through flesh had her bite her lip, inching herself closer towards Ollic as she dropped her gaze and calmed herself. Several mental slaps and the bidding of her heart and breath to slow, the pain and discomfort of her own injury left in what felt like the distant past, and she’d recovered enough for a solid exhale and a small, encouraging smile.

OOC :

Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on January 31st, 2014, 9:43 pm

There was slight hesitation in Arysana’s reaction to Ollic’s gesture. Had he pushed too far in the act of being friendly? Did she see his motion as a sign of more than just friendship and basic moral support? Was she as horrified and at the same time numb and expressionless as he felt at that exact moment?

All of these ideas kept popping like bubbles in his brain, but she took his hand in hers anyways, her hands cold to the touch, but soon warming up as he held on tightly.

It wasn’t that stitches were terribly painful or anything, but Ollic couldn’t handle needles. It was one thing to be sewing the stitches into the skin, but it was a completely different idea when the stitches being sewn in where being sewn into him.

“Thank you,” Ollic whispered as he weakly gave her a wink.

“Alright sir, I want you to open your mouth and try to stick out your tongue as far as you possibly can. This will hurt a little bit, but I assure you that it will go by quickly.”

Like he hadn’t heard that one before. Ollic always said that to the patients whose anticipating skills weren’t their strong points. He always promised that it wouldn’t hurt, when it did, and that it would be over before they knew it. Sometimes it went by quickly, true to his word, but other times, it was a lie seethed through his teeth.

Forcing his tongue out of his mouth, the massive size it had expanded to (yet not too severely to have clogged up his airway) was a gruesome sight to see. There was blood still in liquid form slowly leaking from a minor gash set in the middle of the tip of his tongue.

The doctor’s stoic expression gave no hint to Ollic at how terrible it was, but from the pain he had experienced, he was sure that it was a miracle he hadn’t bitten it completely off. That might have been overenthusiastic, but he knew medical scenarios well.

“Are we ready?” the doctor asked.

Ollic was about to spit out a negative response, but the doctor already had his equipment in. The sickening sound of needle going through tissue erupted inside his mouth, echoing up to his ears.

Wriggling, Ollic clenched his hand, and then realising he was still holding Arysana’s hand, he quickly let go. He didn’t want to ruin her other hand, now did he?

A few more punctures and a tightening sensation as the thread went through his tongue and it was all over. True to his word, which was bewildering as many doctors aren’t, the whole stitching procedure went by in a flash. There even wasn’t that much pain.

The doctor, putting his equipment to the side, went to dab the blood and saliva from Ollic’s chin before sitting back as if to admire his accomplished work.

“Isn’t it amazing what places you can get stitches?” he asked rhetorically before excusing himself to sanitize his gear.

Releasing a giant lungful of air Ollic didn’t recall he was holding, he turned to his friend with a half sad, half embarrassed smile dressing his lips in covert colours. Was he going to apologise? For what exactly did he have to apologise for? It was his mistake and it was he who paid for his foolery. However, he said it anyways.

“I’m sorry.”

And to elaborate as to why he was sorry, through words that were still mumbled, yet more audible and verbally enunciated, he continued, “I don’t know why I made you sit through all of that. I guess I just needed someone here for me. I don’t have any family or friends here, really. I also would like to apologise for having you help me walk all the way here after my-“ and it was here that he chuckled as a small blush crawled its way up and settled on his cheeks- “little fall.”

Motioning to start twitting his thumbs in anxiety, he realised he wasn’t able to, given that his arm was in a sling. It was probably going to be a season at least until his arm was better and even then he was sure to have a few minor aches and pains until it had fully recovered, and he wasn’t patient.

He ended up shrugging instead and looked down at the floor before returning his gaze to Arysana. Trying to clear the air, he insisted on saying, “I guess I could just thank you rather than constantly apologising.”

Sending another brief little-boy grin her way, he slowly stood up and stuck out his hand in terms to shake hers. He hoped everything would be okay between them undergoing the circumstances that had befallen the two today.

Shyke, today was a tough day.

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Closed [Catholicon] What Goes Up, Must Come Down (Ollic)