[Catholicon]Treatment required (Ollic & Arysana)

Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on March 14th, 2014, 12:21 am

It was strange to see that both of his patients hadn’t ensconced themselves in the semi-comfortable chairs that were strewn about the room. One had been placed in the centre, another off to the side meant for a family member or close friend. Ollic has his own designated chair, one that rolled to his liking whenever he needed to be somewhere else. It was better than walking, but often caused back pain, the seat was so hard.

He was about to pipe up and offer the two their seats when his request was accepted. The man explained his situation first. Ollic listened avidly, trying to stifle a laugh at his story. He had fallen from a roof? Who runs across roofs in this city anyways?

Bemusement quickly replaced the hilarity of the tale. Instead of breaking down in a fit of giggles like he would have done any other time if the two were friends, he straightened up a little more and raised an eyebrow.

“It sounds like you’re a dare devil,” he assumed, smiling lightheartedly. He meant no disrespect to him. He wished he could have withheld his envious emotions he had let slip a while back. He didn’t like making enemies and hoped he hadn’t with him.

Next it was Arysana’s turn. The Vantha tilted his head to the left side so that it was hardly noticeable, yet obvious to him.

He let a grin slide, as he moistened his lips with his tongue. They had been relatively chapped the past few days, but he didn’t know why.

The same old Arysana, experimenting, being reckless, having fun and doing what she pleased whenever she felt the need to. It surprised him when she hadn’t mentioned climbing. Perhaps she had taken a break, went off to try something new. Perhaps she had grown up, finding climbing childish and replaced it with what? Cartwheeling? Did that even count as mature, something an adult would find themselves doing?

Ollic made his point know by asking her with a boyish grin smothering all hint of professionalism, “What, no rock climbing anymore?”

It made his heart stutter, his lip quiver in the slightest way when she dismissed the thought. She thought her injury was a simple bump? This was the worst thing he could hear from the various patients that were admitted to him. A mere brush off the shoulder, denial bubbling up inside the injured individual’s minds. They hadn’t a clue how severe some things could be, especially when it came to what one would assume a cold to be.

He had met a little girl once, her name he could not recall. She had ravishing red hair and eyes like silver that glimmered in the dimmest moonlight. She had pale skin and pallid lips, all natural, handed down to her by her parents. She had walked into the Catholicon with a minor cold, a cough and a bit of a fever. Ollic had accompanied a doctor, working beside him as he learnt a thing or two. He watched with increasing intent. In the end of the appointment, the doctor sent her on her way after giving her some herbal medication to soothe her cough. He also made sure to give her something to relieve her fever.

It wasn’t until a few days later that the news came blundering through the door like a tsunami. The girl had died. It was difficult to grasp and even more so to accept, for he had just seen the girl not more than a few days ago. Apparently the day after she had gone to the Catholicon for treatment she had started to cough up blood. Her fever rose dramatically until she withered away like a dying fruit or a dehydrated flower.

Ollic took a few days off after that incident, trying to rid his memory of everything he had heard, seen and felt. His emotions were a turmoil, a battle raging on inside him. His stomach hurt, his throat burned, his eyes strung with tears he could have sworn manifested all on their own.

This was when he started drinking, more so than he had before. He didn’t just drink to calm his nerves. He drank in hopes to forget everything, his past, the girl, his future. He blamed it upon himself. He could have saved her, he kept telling himself. He could have saved her and told his superior, the one he was shadowing, something better for her, but how could he? There were no signs, no obvious things that could tell him her fate was to pass on to join the gods and goddesses.

It followed him like a plague, festering inside his body, feeding off the vital fluids that filled his heart and ran through his veins. It made his feel queasy just remembering the details, or even the girl’s name, to which he could not remember.

Suddenly he felt a pinch. His eyes were burning from staring off into space. His line of sight was eagerly staring into Arysana’s eyes, those enchanting and enticing eyes that reminded him so much of the girl’s for whatever reason.

He had been nodding, his mind absent from his physical body. He must have looked weird, his eyes never blinking, his head moving up and down as if being forced to by a puppet master. He glanced up to see if he was indeed attached to any strings.

He found none and sighed, returning his attention back to the woman and the man.

Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on March 14th, 2014, 12:23 am

"Doctor’s orders? Mind if I take a seat?" Her voice made him nearly jump out of his skin. He was startled so badly that he made a hasty step backwards, trying to regain that balance that had been stolen from him. His breath too had been taken.

“Sorry,” he muttered as if he had just broken his mother’s favourite vase. “Go ahead… both of you. There is another chair against the wall for you to take,” he said, directing his voice toward the male.

Ollic watched as Sana took a few small steps toward the middle chair. Content with her actions, he felt he was allowed to go ahead and patch up her damaged body.

He went over to the counter to wash his hands. He made sure to scrub adamantly, scratching his nails over the surface of his palms. He watched as the soap ran off his skin, nail scraping underneath nail. Finally after he was satisfied with the result, he dried them. They were flush red when he had completed.

He then returned to look back at his patients only to find that Arysana had started talking again. She had not made it to the seat in the middle of the room.

"… believe you- Why were you trying to jump roofs?"

He had wanted to ask the very same question, yet couldn’t. He was being held against his will by hands of anti-sociality. They squeezed his neck and toyed with his mind. They had even triggered something inside his brain, his eyes reverting back to uncanny events from his past.

He shook his head and breathed deeply, bestowing a false smile onto his face as he waited for what the man had to say. He would like to know why he had been running on top of roofs in the first place.

After the words had rolled off her tongue, Sana stumbled over to the seat and made herself comfortable. She adjusted herself, a giggle escaping her lips, in turn causing Ollic’s heart to skip a beat.

What a beautiful laugh she has, he thought. When compared to his moronic chuckle, it was no doubt women were much more seductive and charming than men. At least, to his perceptions.

He didn’t have time to wait for a reply, however, so he proceeded to do what he did best. He leant down to observe the woman’s injured leg.

He prodded with her fingers, often taking a moment to look up through his long eyelashes to see the reaction she gave him. He wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt her too badly, but he also needed to see whether or not she had broken or fractured anything.

He continued to prod, pressing his fingers in various areas. He subconsciously went to take off her shoe, and set his palm on top of her foot. There were no bones that weren’t improperly aligned. Everything seemed in the right place, so he put her shoe back on.

He didn’t want to assume it was just a simple sprain. Her face, contorted in an abnormal way like it was told him otherwise. It was either a minor fracture or a major sprain or strain. He decided what he would do and walked over to the counter.

He started to pull on some cabinet doors, opening them to reveal many different medical tools and equipment. His eyes wavered over things he had seen before and some he hadn’t. Finally they landed on what he needed.

He withdrew some bandages, a sturdier form of gauze that he used to wrap wounds. He opened another drawer and another one until his eyes landed on a pair of medical sticks used to straightened breaks in bones or held support various athletic or accidental injuries.

He traipsed back over to Sana and bent down again, a smile creeping into his cheeks again. He blushed, his irises turning a lustful rose. He inwardly smacked his forehead.

The man took off the woman’s shoe again, setting it to the side as he went on with his doctoral duties. He tried to refrain from blushing as his eyes shifted colours once more.

The man pulled out the beginning of the bandage and placed a stick on one side of her ankle. He then started to wrap the bandages around her lower leg, placing another stick on the opposite side. He wound the fabric around and around her leg and ankle until it was thick enough that it made him feel satisfied.

Content with his work, he backed up and eventually stood up to observe how he had done. He would have given himself a passing mark, maybe somewhere higher up on the scale. It wasn’t his best work, but it certainly was better than he had done when he had first started to work as a healer’s assistant.

He hadn’t even been aware that the strange man had been talking until Ollic was brought back to the horrendous aspects of reality. Reality, he mused to himself. Got to love it, no?

Secret :

by **Brandon Blackwing** on March 14th, 2014, 11:09 pm

His story earned him a nearly concealed laugh from Ollic, small and brief, which seemed to have the purpose of mocking the bat, laughing at him because of his failed attempt to cross the street. Yet, the thief didn’t let it get to him, the doctor could laugh if he wanted, it indeed sounded quite like an act of idiocy. However, the bat thought with a certain malice, I’d like to see this guy try to do what I attempted. A grin crept up his mouth, drawing the corners up in a mean-looking way. Oh, he could imagine, he could almost see the scene unfold in his mind’s eye, though that was only one of the possible outcomes, the one the bat desired most. The one that would be laughing in the end would be him and no one else, so he held on to his plain, neutral expression.

Doctor Weirdo shot the bat a smile, an entirely different one that the others he’d given him, one of genuine … friendliness, most likely. A daredevil huh? Heh, true, though not everyone might agree with his status as one, as a proper one that is. Once he had been told that proper daredevils break bones and stuff, and that he was a wimp. Of course he had denied that statement, commenting that proper daredevils were the ones that didn’t break their bones, or not as often anyways. Most of the time. However, daredevils were notorious for trying to do what others could not, or deemed impossible, which didn’t always ended well. Maybe she’d been right after all… So, did that make him a true daredevil now? Or had he always been? The bat decided on the latter, since he found that brinkmen achieved their name because of their guts, and not because of the success or the fractures.

The grin on his face changed into a friendlier version of it -smiling was out of the question, since that was something he was almost incapable of doing, though he managed on occasion. “Perhaps.” was all his reply to the doctor’s assumption contained, being vague was always fun, a bad habit of his too. Of those he had many, far too many, but that was how he was and he didn’t think it was a bad thing actually. The bat wasn’t a Narcissist, but he liked himself enough to be able to accept his flaws, well, most of them. But well, he was who he was, and that still is how things are supposed to be. And you wouldn’t hear Brandon complain about that.

Sana started to speak, yet after the first few words she seemed unable to formulate her thoughts, was she by any chance afraid of sharing her possibly embarrassing accident? She searched for his gaze and found it, awkwardness on display before she spoke again. Turned out that the whole story was even more a tribute to stupidity than he had thought when he’d heard the partial version. A chuckle escaped his throat, and for a tick the bat didn’t realise, but then he covered it up with the pretence of a cough, his fist held in front of his lips. Ollic made a comment about rock climbing, possibly a hobby of hers. How he could know about such matters was unknown, since that word too described the current information he had on the relationship of the two of them, none.

On the contrary of his first impression, the healer indeed seemed to be competent, listening avidly to the words flowing out of Sana’s mouth, nodding as a sign of understanding the situation and her problem, maybe even having figured out what could be wrong and the necessary treatment already. However, as Sana’s voice trailed off and faded into silence, he was still nodding, his eyes still fixed on hers. Hm, so much for not judging a book by its cover, this guy really was a charlatan, though since the copper haired girl knew him and hadn’t mentioned anything about that, the bat had to give up on that thought. However, he knew nothing about the depth of their relationship, so it was very possible that Ollic was a quack. However, since the bat himself wasn’t the most normal person around either, he decided to give him the benefit of doubt.
An awkward silence hung in the room, no words were spoken, since the thief didn’t really know how to deal with this situation, refraining from speech. Then, Brandon snapped his fingers all of a sudden, his hand pointing in the direction of the healer who was zoning out, seeing things that weren’t visible for anyone but himself, eyes wide and never blinking. No reaction whatsoever, though two chimes or so later –it could have been less, but it felt that way- his eyelids came down and went up in quick succession, his mind pulled away from the land of the hallucinations –no way he wasn’t insane!- and back to the present. The bat shook his head, hand on his forehead and eyes closed. Gods help him! But he still said nothing.

At last, the quiet was shattered by the girl’s voice, asking permission to sit down on the chair she was standing the closest to. Doctor Daydreamer’s reaction? He nearly jumped out of his skin and stumbling backwards, the bat could hear the breath getting stuck in his trachea loud and clear, as if he himself was choking. Just when he’d stopped the shaking of his head, the bat started again, his hand now covering the upper part of his face, his vision limited to the gaps between his fingers. “Gods… I think I’m going to sit down…” he muttered, letting his body fall down on the floor with his legs crossed, just before Ollic mentioned the chair the thief was refusing to sit in. With his vision blurred by his hand, Bran could only hear what was going on, but it was enough, he didn’t want to see any more stupid actions of the doctor. If his opinion mattered, then the healer was even more of an idiot than Bran and Sana were together.

Footsteps echoed through the room, followed by splashing noised that had to be water and some kind of scraping. A barely audible fluttering and then some more footsteps, just before they stopped the woman posed a question, one he hadn’t seen coming. Well, he hadn’t seen any of all the weird things that had happened today coming either. Why? Hmm, he had to think about how to formulate his answer, since he didn’t know how to put it into words, or rather since he didn’t think he’d had a reason, and started to search for one while scratching his chin. Still musing, the thief hauled himself up and dragged his body towards the other chair, the unoccupied one, hoping that it would be more comfortable than the floor. When seated, a little slumped and staring at the ceiling –white marble, apparently-, he replied.

“No reason really. I needed to kill time and thought it would be a good idea to run over rooftops again. You know, I was having a great time when I couldn’t go further, I wasn’t sure how much of a distance there was between the house I was standing on and the one at the other side. I deemed it reachable, took a few steps back, dashed and jumped. A bit too soon it seems, I could have made it. But you already knew that. But why? No idea. I felt like it, I guess?” A brief pause to catch his breath and admire a nice wave pattern he’d discovered in the marble. “I think that when I started doing it I was looking for something thrilling to do… No, that is the reason. Besides, the city isn’t limited to the streets, you know. Or rather, the streets aren’t just limited to the ones on the ground. There are more paths to take than those everyone walks on. Walls, roofs, fences, trees … all form a road, you only have to see it.”

Another pause, this time to set his thoughts in order, so he could share what wisdoms he held inside his scalp by putting the thoughts that contained them into words. That wasn’t always easy to do. Brandon bit his lip and closed his eyes, letting his eyelids drop down and stroked his goatee. “Also, they contain shortcuts. A lot of them. The fastest route is a straight line, yes? Well, if you have to stick to the ground, you have to take detours. I do not. A dead end? Nope, it doesn’t exist for me. Just climb it and continue your way. Let me tell you, the city, how big it might be, it’s a lot smaller when you can take the roofs… However, sometimes things go wrong, and you end up with an injury of sorts.” A shrug, what had happened couldn’t be made undone. These were things you had to accept, you had no other option if you wanted to be happy in life. Always looking back with grief was not how one should review their past. Reviewing it was fine, you could always learn from past mistakes, but sobbing and pouting about them all the time? No. It was helpful, now he knew, for example, that he had to time his jumps better, and could pay some more attention to it in the future, resulting in an improvement of his acrobatic roof jumping stunts. “Does that answer your question?” he asked after a while.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Arysana** on March 16th, 2014, 2:36 pm

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | oocMidnight post. 5 o'clock morning rise. I'll be dead tomorrow. Gah. Don't expect much. *Falls* I'll see if I can thicken it up tomorrow! Otherwise, it will be the same content. I'll just make it look... fuller.

Arysana had scarce enough time to detail her own injuries when Ollic moved into action, the limp caused by her foot apparently no where near as well hidden as the reimancer had have liked, pressing her lips as the doctor poked and prodded. "Oww," she grumbled, near biting her lips as tender spots were hit, the woman smothering complaints before they could gain any coherence. Ivak, she was right. There was something off about the Vantha. "And of course I'm still climbing, just... less falling going on," she gave a laugh at the thought, a bubble of memories of a lighter note springing to mind.

Sana did her best at not squirming in her place as she watched her friend - he was indeed her friend, right? - went about his work, almost slipping and shifting as she sought to gain a better look at the work being done and the countenance of the man doing it, her gaze constantly slipping and falling to the arm that was broken those two seasons before, a shudder riveting her spine as she tore herself away from her such chilling thoughts.

"Ollic, your arm, how is-" she managed, her words a soft lull as she still roused herself from thoughts, her own words dissolving into the sound of Brandon's, and her gaze was only harsh for the moment it took her to consider that the man was, in all honesty, merely responding to a question that she'd prior asked. If anyone was cutting off another, it was she to him with her mumbled worries.

Arysana divided her attention as well she could, constantly leaning to one side or the other as she missed an action as she was caught on a word, or missed a sentence due to a sudden touch or action. "It explains a lot, actually." She mused, happy enough to lend her mind to the dazzling heights and sights that Brandon must have been privy to. Trees were one thing, and the view from them enough to leave her awestruck, but to see the splendour of the city from one of the hulking towers or buildings? Without a single branch to obstruct the view, and a remarkable few points to press and scratch her skin? Her chest tightened at the thought.

It was strange when Ollic made quick of removing and fitting her shoe, taken aback with such a flurry of confusion that objection could not form, her look when the work was so swiftly done that she was almost in a daze. From what she could tell, it was done far better than the last bandage that she'd earned, and she gave a grin broad and beaming as she noted Ollic looking as exacting as his work as she was. "Thank you - you've improved, or at least as far as I can tell," her tone was light and playful, a compliment coming with a press to go further, ensuring not to allow the Vantha to become complacent with 'not the best.'

"Climbing, you mentioned climbing," she said, after her own little pause, the words catching in her throat.

"You any good?" it was a fair question, she thought, given that jumping roofs and scaling tall objects were not one in the same. "I'm decide myself..." she trailed her words and left them hang with a grin. "Ollic's not too good," She gaze once again dove to him arm, flitting from the Vantha's features to his form, and going back once more. Good, good. He looked good.

Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on March 16th, 2014, 11:28 pm

It was undeniable, the entire time Ollic was bustling about the room. It was undeniable how the man only spoke to Arysana, never keeping eye contact with the Vantha for more than a few moments before faltering to the woman with incredible speed.

When he had been accomplishing his duties with a relatively hasty, yet formidable gait, he had listened to the conversation, the words frolicking around the room, hitting walls and bouncing back so that they hurdled to their designated individual.

He had let out a small, hardly audible chuckle when she had mentioned the rare occasion she had fallen since they had met, if she had at all. If it wasn’t the sprained arm, it was the sprained ankle, and he was grateful for seeing her again.

To confess with dignity, he admitted dreaming about her before. Of course, the images of the woman and the memories he had tried to lodge in the back of his cranium were dwindling as the days passed, but he would never forget her face, her scowl, her laugh and the way she stayed with him through the pain like he had with her.

He didn’t mean to sound creepy, dreaming about someone he had only met one another time. He was the awkward guy like that, but he held logic and reasoning behind that meaning.

He had always been one to hold even the smallest events or words close to his heart. He tucked them away so that they resided next to his soul until he would need to have further use of them in the possible future.

He was granted with his inwardly gesture, the wish that had surfaced for so long. He had finally been able to see her again, and emanated gratitude to himself for not frightening her off the day of the incident.

He was a rather peculiar fellow, indeed and he knew that. He would bite his lip, wring his hands, even blink rapidly, his line of sight travelling frantically around any room he was in, any situation he had been thrust into be it voluntarily or involuntarily.

He was the nervous kind, the one susceptible to all sorts of emotional trauma. He was a naturally trepid man, though he didn’t have knowledge as to where he could have been handed such traits.

His mother was a skilled nurse, his father was a virtuoso with the craft of medicine, often travelling for seasons before returning home. Sometimes he even travelled across the world, coming home to spend only mere days before running off again.

Ollic had sometimes called his superman, for his vigilante attempts at trying to save people’s lives. He truly looked up to the man, ever since he was a child. He had been raised by his mother, however, and she was a rather cruel and unholy woman.

He supposed it was obvious to assume he has built up all that anxiety from the time he was a child until know, given to him by the verbal and sometimes physical beatings from his early life.

He found himself wringing his hands now, listening to the man talk to Arysana. His eyes weren’t as dark now as they had been the first time the Vantha had seen them. They held less secrets and displayed more interest in what the woman had to say.

He had given up one of the embarrassing tales, the one of falling from a roof, allowing room inside those hollow orbs his irises and pupils occupied.

He had been asked not moments ago how his arm had been, yet he had completely ignored her without the conscious awareness that she had spoken.

After the other male had finished speaking, he quickly slid in, filling the small void of empty silence. “My arm?” he asked rhetorically. “I still feel pains every now and again, but overall, it is much better than that day.”

He felt bad for interrupting, but he didn’t feel bad for allowing himself to speak. Rarely did he give himself the right to speak. He simply went about his day with invisible wire sewn in terms of keeping his mouth stitched shut.

"Ollic's not too good," she said. This caused his cheeks to ripen as he mustered up enough strength to feign a smile, his eyes never meeting either individual.

He tried to find something, anything else in the room to stare at, but to no avail. He remained connected to the vast expanse of socialization that would forever haunt him in the depths of such reality.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

He had started to take a few steps forward, over to where the man sat prominently, his face no longer as pained as it had been a bell ago. He had relaxed and allowed himself to be ensconced in a chair, whether it deemed itself worthy of comfort or not. Ollic knew well enough that these chairs were rubbish.

“Your turn?” he mentioned, gesturing toward the middle seat, the one Arysana had just escaped from. She was somewhat standing straight, putting more pressure on her dominant foot than the wounded one.

He solemn smiled, a sullen expression tainting the edges of his mouth. His eyes spoke of no happiness, dark thoughts still caressing his mind with tender claws of devious plots and twists.

“Dare devil,” he added, with more or less a jubilant and playful tone.

OOC :

by **Brandon Blackwing** on March 17th, 2014, 7:01 pm

OOCOllic … I (and Bran too) suspect that you’re going to chop off Bran’s leg, so even if you’re just reaching for a surgeon’s tools, Bran’s going to freak out and clobber you. Just so you know.

Sometime during his somewhat long explanation of his reasons for doing what he enjoyed, namely taking the roof route instead of the solid ground one, he aborted his study of the ceiling by closing his eyes. It felt good, warm and cozy, isolated in his little space. The eyelids felt as if they were meant to be closed, persuading him not to open them ever again, which in fact worked since the bat really didn’t want to open them. Not now, not ever. He’d just sit in the chair and listen, he didn’t need his eyes for that, right? Yet, somewhere deep inside a silent voice screamed a warning, one that was barely audible and hardly understandable. It had something to do with this situation … but it couldn’t be that important, they’d speak louder if it was.

“My arm? I still feel pains every now and again, but overall, it is much better than that day,” the voice of the doctor sounded, coming from somewhere in the room. The thief knew he had to be near Sana, but the walls made all sounds bounce off them, creating echoes all the time, confusing the hearing organs of the bat. Confirming his prior observation with his orbs wasn’t something he felt like doing right now, maybe another time. He sat comfortable, though the chair itself didn’t do anything to make it even more comfy, and it was warm. Is breathing had steadied during the brief period of rest his voice had been given.

Then, entirely unexpected, the Kelvic’s head moved as the muscles in his neck relaxed, falling limp to the side, almost touching his shoulder. Feeling as if he was tumbling out of his chair, Brandon flung open his eyes, wide and alert, body back upright, and the pores under his armpits itching, as if warning him there might be some small amount of salty liquid released soon. Had he fallen asleep? But that wasn’t possible, he hadn’t even closed his eyes- Oh wait, he had, hadn’t he? He’d let his conscious being lulled to sleep by the nice temperature and comfortable position he was sitting in. However, he’d been paying attention to the conversation the two others had been having, that could prove his semi-awareness! Yet, for one or other reason he couldn’t recall what was said, what the topic had been or if a question for him to answer had been posed. The only thing he knew for sure was that it had been Ollic that had done the talking. Brandon frowned, where was the guy anyway? And the red-head?

The onyx orbs focused, his vision sharpened, allowing him to make out the two forms in the middle of the room, one male and the other of the opposite gender. Apparently the healer was done with his work, seeing as Sana’s foot was now bandaged in white cloth, professionally wrapped around it, a few sticks bulking out from underneath. Hm, seemed like a job well done. Maybe he should revise his opinion on the doctor, for the most part that is. He still was a weirdo, but one that knew how to handle his work. Good, at least his injury was in safe hands. Brandon let out a sigh, emptying his lungs before filling them again, realizing the woman had fired another inquiry at him. The doc himself managed a smile when she commented his not-so-skillfulness in the art, the bat grinned. Climbing was it? Good at it? Hmmmm …. he wondered.

“I don’t suppose I am. I mean, sure I get where I want to be most of the time, but I’m not a pro. Every climb is a challenge”, the bat confessed “But I like a Challenge. The harder the better.” The dark jewels his eyes were filled with sparkles and excited gleams. “The city is a great place to climb, you have all kinds of things that are climbable and there are a lot of varying difficulties. There are houses, which have four different walls to climb, some with more footholds than others. Well, there are all kinds of building-ish things to try to get on to. In fact, the getting on the roofs is harder than the staying on them.” He grinned, shrugging briefly when he thought of failing at the latter.

Ollic had started to cross the distance between the bat and himself, stopping in front of him, albeit a little to the side, allowing Brandon to pass. “Sure,” he mumbled in response, hauling himself out of the chair and on to his feet. One stiff and crushing his nerves when he put his weight on it without thinking, out of habit. Hissing in scarcely concealed pain, he shifted his stance and placed his mass on his other leg. Sana had left the seat she’d taken and was standing aside of it, she’d stood up after her foot had been treated, and she looked better already. For confirmation that he should take place there, the thief turned his gaze to the healer’s features, and the gesture he made in the direction of the chair. But under the Kelvic’s gaze the doctor’s expression twisted, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes spreading out over his face, the edges also appearing … odd. That combined with the cold, malevolent emotion in the man’s eyes made the hairs along the nape of the thief’s neck rise. That never was a good omen.

The tone with which the three syllables were spoken added to the creepy sensation the bat felt nibbling at the edges of his mind, his overly active doom thinking machine being kick started. They held each other’s glare for a couple of ticks, the bat’s frightened one shifting into an unspoken threat. The message was clear; ‘don’t try anything funny or you’ll regret it.’ Then, he broke the lock of eyes, fixing his stare on the chair and limping towards it, lowering his body onto the pseudo-comfortable seat. He sighed once more, he might have overreacted a bit. The memory of the doctor’s gaze however, erased all doubts. It was better to be safe than to leave without foot. With black orbs fixed on the healer’s every move, the bat refused to relax, any reach for a cutting or chopping tool, be it a knife or hand axe, it would be punished by whatever means necessary. If one thought a sitting person was harmless, they’d be in for a rather unpleasant and painful surprise.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Arysana** on March 19th, 2014, 9:31 am

Arysana | NPC 1 |NPC 2 | Thoughts | oocSo sorry for the delay! D: I realised how little I could write and wound up changing templates to make it look longer XD

Arysana's mouth ran dry, shooting a tired look towards Ollic as she worked to gauge his reaction through heavy eyes. 'Did he take it the wrong-Ivak.' Her mind flurried and a scowl rose and fell, the world slipping out of focus for a chime or two, the reimancer quite unwilling to speak and make an accidental slight more, and shortly found herself in a pattern of silent musing and little more movement than simple reaction.

She'd pulled herself to her feet and shifted awkwardly to the side la short while before, all memory of the action void as she stood stiffly a few meters from the chair, her angle retaining its dull ache and her stance rather lop sided. 'I still have to get down to the ground, damn it.'

She licked her lips and shook her head slightly, banishing all thoughts that were not the utmost of priority, and allowing her attentions to befall the way that Brandon held himself in the newly vacated chair. It was such an odd hold, she thought, gaze raking over the tightness of the man's expression, and the way his hair and clothing left him looking as though he issued a challenge.

Arysana continued to gape at him for a moment, her nose crinkling as she shot Ollic a look, giving her dear friend a solid once over as she attempted to connect the dots and make whatever link that she'd obviously missed, once more finding herself set unease by the look that was etched onto the Vantha' features. She could only spend so long staring before common courtesy told her it was best to stop, her utter lack of shame in the ways of social interaction - something that is completely and utterly separate from her pride in skills and talents - causing slip ups on countless occasions.

"You like a challenge, do you?" she said, managing a light tone and a playful grin, her head tilting as she tried in earnest to convey every bit of foolhardy pride that seemed to be greatest selling point for challenges. Sometimes confidence in ones own abilities was enough to have them accept a wager, she found, but sometimes you needed to play more on pride and satisfaction. "Well, then. It seems like we have yet another thing in common." She weighed her words with practiced caution, practically jumping at the establishment of a diversion as Ollic went about his work. "Care to make a wager?"

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Character sheet · by **Ollic Rimesage** on March 25th, 2014, 11:27 pm

Secret :

Ollic looked to the ground, trying to focus his gaze elsewhere. The man in front of him seemed to glare at him with those eyes of shadows. They were intimidating and could send shivers down any individual’s back. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in protest, crying for solitude.

Ollic ignored them and motioned for the man to the chair once more. After he was all situated with his eyes still locked onto the healer’s, Ollic’s mind reeled with possibilities. He outcomes were conflicting and he was sure things were not going to have an ending such as the way he wished it would.

He was a born pessimist, something he must have inherited from his mother and not his father. Damn, he thought to himself before turning his back to the man. Am I always like this?

He made sure to make small movements, as to not set off his patient. He brushed his dark hair backwards with the palm of his hand. Realising that he had just contaminated his hands, he went to wash them once more.

You had to wash your hands after each patient anyway, though, and he knew this. It wasn’t a total loss. He loved hygiene and cleanly habits anyways. He tended to gag when around barbaric people who ate with their fingers or picked their noses, shaking someone’s hand right after.

He was very vigilant, always aware of the people around him for anything suspicious. One time he had caught sight of someone licking their fingers after eating. A few moment later he walked up to Ollic and introduced himself, sticking his hand out in formal greeting.

Ollic, being the germ freak he always is, retracted, falling back into his shell that isn’t visible, yet there all the same. He said a quick hello before retreating back to one of the rooms that held a patient he had left to rest.

It was a catastrophe, or at least he thought so.

He shook his head, scrubbing his hands with loads of soap he had found on the corner of the sink. After he was satisfied with the feeling of bubbles, he rinsed his hands and dried them, before returning to the man in the chair.

He bent down slowly, one of his knees popping in defiance against his actions. He lifted his hands in a surrendering fashion before proceeding to feel around the man’s ankle. There was something that wasn’t right about what he felt.

It wasn’t that there was something missing or something completely out of place, but that the man had an extra bone or two. That, or it was something Ollic feared for the worst. This man possibly had a fracture, potentially a broken ankle.

He bit his lip and rose from his squatted position. He was about to say something when Arysana’s harmonious voice flittered into one ear and out the other.

"You like a challenge, do you?"

Now they were gambling? On or for what? Immediately, Ollic’s self-conscious depleted as thoughts trampled over logic and reasoning. They were talking about him, weren’t they? Were they going to bet on whether he was going to mess up or put the man in more pain that he already was?

He blinked ferociously as the woman continued to speak, adding, “Care to make a wager?"

A part of the man wanted to sit back and relax, watch the show, but another part of him needed to figure out what he was to do. He wasn’t sure if simply putting the foot in a sling between two sticks would cut it.

He racked his brain, using Sana’s distraction to his advantage as he tried to figure out how we was to go about doing this.

by **Brandon Blackwing** on March 26th, 2014, 8:14 pm

Being seated, with his forearms finding support in the form of the armrests attached to the chair, the bat’s hands, fingers mostly, clawed around the ends of said rests. Tense he was certainly, and it was impossible not to notice from any position but the backside of his person. In all honesty, he didn’t like this one bit. Sure, he’d probably get treated, but the form of treatment was yet to be determined, and being fond of all parts of his body as he was, he’d like to keep all of them. Not with his consent would there be a loss of limbs on his side, oh hell no.

It was no surprise that his eyes never left the hands of the short doctor, every action was suspicious, or could become a possible threatening one. Oh, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that, he hoped the healer was smarter than ignoring the unspoken warning he’d exchanged. The mental state of the guy bothered him, the man was undoubtedly insane, how had they ever approved of a wacko giving treatment to patients? He was the one who required treatment. His brains needed fixing, and a lot of it too. Probably a couple of days work. Wait, days? No no, years, if it wasn’t more. By the way, why had he accepted that his foot would be treated by this guy? He must have lost his mind, it was highly probably it was still lying about in the hallways or so. Maybe someone had found it already and had brought it to the ‘lost items’ counter, put in a basket where it had the company of Ollic’s. It was a possibility.

A grin spread over his features, slowly at first while he mused about it, but gradually it turned into a chuckle, a brief, relaxing chuckle. His eyelids closed and for a moment it seemed as if all was fine, as if his worries had been cast aside and didn’t matter anymore. Until he realised what was happening, that is. At that very moment, he froze, muscles tensing up once more, eyes popping open and wide, flying across the room, scanning it for the mad doctor’s figure. Footsteps, he’d heard footsteps, that was what had made him snap out of the relaxation. Where was he? Not at the desk, not near the girl, then where..? Running water? Splashing noises and brushing sounds? Immediately his gaze fixed on the sink. Yes, there he was, the stature of the healer, bended over slightly, the muscles of his back rippling while his hands moved franticly, visible through his clothes. Relief was what he felt, no missing foot. Close call, he had to keep it together, pay attention, no more distractions. One moment of inattentiveness and slash! he could forget about it.

After a while, the doc returned. Hands clean, they should be, he’d taken enough time to wash them, the maniac! In the meanwhile, Brandon had freed his foot from the cage his boot formed, wrinkling his nose at the smell, somewhat cheesy and leatherish. Ugh, amplified smell was a curse all of a sudden, damn. Even though they provided a lot of benefits, shoes were also a hotbed for all kinds of stinky smells, especially so if the person wearing them didn’t really care about personal hygiene. A bath for the bat was a dip in a river, and due to the cold temperatures he hadn’t gone recently, his body odor more prominent than usual. Not that it smelled bad mind you, it just smelled like him, that’s all. His feet however, even disgusted their owner, who decided that it would be time for a bath somewhere in the near future. Next time he visited the peaks or so.

The healer was examining the ankle now, his cold fingers touching softly and with care, prodding slightly and stroking elsewhere. Stabs of pain shot through the bat’s body, his fingers wanted to dig into the armrests, and the muscles running over his arms were as tense as they could ever be. The forehead of the thief was lined by wrinkles at the start of the bridge of his nose, teeth wrestling and pushing against their counterparts from the other side of his mouth. Yet, no sound escaped his throat, no moan, no breath. He’d been called a wimp once, even though both him and her had been fooling around, but indeed maybe it had truth in it, he wasn’t very fond of pain. No-one was though, well all sane people weren’t. The doctor’s fingers then reached the source of the injury, the center of the swollen ankle and the pain. The ache seemed to multiply and submerge his very being in torment. Lungs too burned, lack of air. Keep calm, think of something else, think of how soothing the coldness of the fingers were, forget about the hurting of the joint. Deep breath in and out, in and out. Though it helped to ease the pain a little, he needed more than that, distraction was in order, and preferably immediately.

Gods be blessed, it came when he wished for it and the shape it took was that of Sana and her voice of harmonic clear sounds, a waterfall of pleasant, welcome distraction. She spoke of a challenge, and all his attention was drawn towards her as by magic. That was the plan, but he’d never guessed it would work this well, no thoughts were left for injuries, only for the reply he formulated, flowing from his tongue without thinking much. Thinking was bad right now. “I do indeed,” he spoke, surprised by her observation “How did you know? Intuition? A keen eye? Or just a lucky guess? Well, not that that actually matters. The answer is yes.”

“So you do too? Hm, interesting. What are the other similarities you speak of? Climbing? But that too is of little importance, where are you getting at?” She’d picked his interest, this Inartan, while his mind had been too occupied with keeping an eye on Ollic, she’d escaped his gaze, and as such he hadn’t really paid her much attention. Not to her actions anyways, or her attitude, her demeanour. Strange how the potentially dangerous individual in this room had take priority on such an interesting figure. Well, survival instinct at work perhaps? “A wager hmm? You sure know how to catch my attention, what did you have in mind? What will we bet? Pride? Kina? Something else? I’d accept at once, but only a fool would before he knew what the bet is about, no? Yet, a fool I have been called before.” A self-deprecating snicker and a glance down, the healer seeming to muse about what to do, eyes staring off into the void once more.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Arysana** on March 30th, 2014, 1:02 am

Arysana | NPC 1 |NPC 2 | Thoughts | oocDamn short replies!

Arysana shot Brandon a harsh look, her mouth slightly agape as she weighed his words against his disposition, gaze trailing from his brow to eyes, before slipping to his jaw and posture. ‘He literally just said that he likes a challenge. What is he-‘ She pressed her lips and nodded slowly, mulling over the thoughts and terms in her mind, the dull ache of her angle something she kept in keen mind. She’d not issue a challenge she didn’t think she could match.

Perhaps that was what it was?

He was of the belief that he would surely win, regardless of the terms set, and he wished her to be the one to pose the challenge, such that she looked all the more worse when she lost?

She felt her nose crinkle and lips twitch, sending a short look to Ollic as though seeking guidance in how to proceed. "Kina can be made easy enough, but a wound to pride may never heal," she let the words fall from her lips with a small grin and playful look, the amount of weight set on her leg by then a touch on the more painful side, but she couldn't leave with a bet only just struck. If anything, she was true to her word.

"As for the bet itself..." a soft hum escaped her as she mediated among a dozen possibilities. "Climbing... acrobatics... which are you best at? Perhaps perform a feat in the skill less competent?"

As she spoke she gave a dozen odd looks to Ollic, muscles already aching as she though about the pain and suffering yet to come, the bumps and bruises, the welling sores and the thumping headaches. He was the one to witness the deal, so it was - in all likelihood - he who she'd be seeking out a dozen times yet. "As for time - a season perhaps? Time enough to heal?"

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Closed [Catholicon]Treatment required (Ollic & Arysana)