Closed [Catholicon]Treatment required (Ollic & Arysana)

[Brandon Blackwing]

The third of Spring 514 AV

The bat cursed as he was nearly blown off the narrow steps spiralling up the peak by a gust of wind pulling his clothes and pushing his body. Instinctively he leaned towards the other side, after a short stumble, and struggled to keep his footing. When the flurry had suddenly passed, unpredictable like they always were, he stumbled again but to the side he was leaning to this time. He cursed again, but carried himself further up the stairs, limping heavily. Why the hell had they decided to build the medical facility on the second highest point of the peak again? One would certainly think that for the sake of being easily accessible they would have built it somewhere closer to the base levels of the Diamond of Kalea, but no. People with injured legs could just put some extra stain on it, the hell?! What was this, some kind of punishment for injuring yourself? And those people called themselves healers, ha!

Well, he couldn’t deny that they were good in their craft, despite all his insulting thoughts and curses he threw at them during the various climbs he’d taken to get to the marble building. But still, they should do something about this problem, it wasn’t easy to drag oneself up the narrow staircase with a limp, a foot that wouldn’t cooperate. Of course he knew that it had been his own fault, he’d known it all along, but he needed someone, or something to vent his frustration. And anything was suitable, even if they were the solution to his problem.

Another gust, but the bat kept himself stubbornly on his feet, a little bit of wind wouldn’t get him floored, not when he felt pretty angry and determined to show himself his mental fortitude and willpower. He’d show that foot, he could get anywhere if he wanted to, even if it would choose to limp and anguish him. He looked up from the step he was placing his feet on, the catholicon seemed to be closer than last time he checked, he was almost there. Albeit slowly, he was getting there. Maybe five more chimes. Still five more, the thief was getting tired. Stairs were exhausting.

How he ended up like this? A simple question, one his mind still mulled about, something he had done and wished he hadn’t. He should have known the distance was to great for him to cross…. He sighed. It had happened earlier today, actually, it had happened right before he’d decided to visit the catholicon, as his decision had been influenced by the state his body was in. He’d been freerunning to kill time, just because he felt like it. He hadn’t really had anything to do, so he found this to be a good opportunity. However, in his foolishness he’d overestimated his abilities once more, it happened more than he’d like, but just noticing didn’t help. Thief had deemed a canyon between two houses crossable, suitable for a jump, challenging too. That had driven him to do it in the first place. He should do something about that, it was a bad habit.

Though he could have crossed it, though it would have been without much of a butter zone. His timing had been wrong however, and as such his leap to the other side came short a few centimetres. His body had started its descent too soon, and he had not been able to even touch the building he wanted to reach. Arms and legs swinging wildly, he had landed badly, his foot seeking support on a loose part of the street, a sharp pain and twisted ankle were the result. His brain had deemed this to be an appropriate time to pay the doctors a visit. He could ask them about his headaches and insomnia too while he was there. Two, no three birds with one stone.

Boots padded on the floor of the central room, the waiting chamber, the bat knew from his previous visits that there weren’t many patient here, as the inhabitants of Lhavit, the natives at least, were kind of people with a certain resistance to illness, and they usually didn’t do stupid things to hurt themselves either, he reproached himself. Now what? Catch his breath first, those darned stairs were as tiring as they were annoying. He stood there a couple of chimes, until the beating of his heart had gone back to normal and his breaths weren’t pants anymore. Some more people came in and passed by the exhausted bat. Despite the slightly cold temperature, side effect from the recent passing of winter, he felt really hot, probably from the climb. Again he cursed the people who founded the catholicon, under his breath this time while he limped towards the receptionist.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Arysana]

"NPC Speech" | 'Thoughts' | "Sana's Speech" | oocSpoiler for Sana's character! Enjoy the snippets of Kana's life and times while it lasts >:)

"I told-"
"You did not."
"I'm pretty sure I did- I said 'Ary, you probably won't be abl-"

Arysana lightly elbowed the blonde and dissolved into an irritable silence, a wicked smile and girlish giggle leaving her victim's lips. Sana would have prevented Kana from accompanying her all together had she realised that her little sister was planning to run her mouth off as she did. Kade probably would have been much more sympathetic company. Probably. Ok, maybe not. "I'm pretty sure you can't do cartwheels anymore, either." Her own little snap was quick and clipped, cradling her head in her left hand, and waking with a pathetic limp. 'Not as bad as last time, I don't think. I should be fine. Just see Ollic to satisfy mother dearest, then go home to the respite. Make sure Kana tells our parents that I saw the doctor.'

"Oh, I know that," she grinned, shifting half a meter away from Sana, her elder sister's gaze sharp and shrewd. "That's why I wasn't stupid enough to try." With her ankle as it was and her thundering headache, the best that the geomancer could manage was a half hearted swat in Kana's general direction, the deepening of her little sister's laugh only increasing.

Arysana listened with grinding teeth as her 'sweet baby sister' choked on her laughter. "You can breathe any time, now." Her words had Kana suddenly drop, her hands dig into the earth as she gripped her chest. "You're not that funny, you know."

Should she continue? Or wait? Her own pain was dull and pulsating, though not weak enough to be straight up ignored, she could hold herself in a way that it was mostly bearable. That still didn't mean she wished to remain in such a way, however. "No, no, no." She laughed, beginning to pull herself to her feel, her torn and blackened smith apprentice's clothes then boasting stains of greens and browns. "You. Your face. When you fell. I just-" More laughter, throaty and full and loud.

That was the point when Arysana decided it was time to leave her sister behind. At least, in theory. A hobbling teen with aches and pains all over trying to out walk a giggly girl several years younger and a dozen times fitter was an uphill battle. Even more so since they were, by then, quite literally on their way up to the Catholicon.

Kana didn't quiet down for the entirety of the remaining walk, throwing comments and giggles of all sizes as she remarked on Sana's funny attempts at walking, and then the strange method that she took when climbing the petching stairs. She walked with an awkward hobble, taking everything by a single set at a time, decidedly ignoring Kana's loud and vocal existence as she ascended to the waiting room, the 'uhms' and 'ahs' that left the blonde trailing close by reminding her that the girl hadn't visited the Catholicon in years.

'She's sightseeing. Are you petching kidding me?'

When the two broke into the central room, Kana peeled off, giving a wave and a last bewildered look before darting back through the door, disappearing around a corner with an awkward rigidity. She had elsewhere to go, it seemed, she never usually seemed so keen to return home.

The exercise had only made Sana's head thump harder, the trek in addition causing her chest to heave and her heart to drum, some man with a kind of injury to his own at the receptionist's desk, and she almost let her desire to be rid of her own pain and in pleasant company hindering her own manners. 'Nice and steady,' she coaxed, bidding her heart to slow and breaths to ease.

The spark of recognition on the receptionists face didn't do all that much, either, the look that she threw to herself and the man in line before her one of tired amusement. Or at least, that was what Sana thought. With a head pounding so hard it was hard to think, and body almost quaking with pain, she wasn't one whose word could be taken.[i] 'I'm going to have to choose a place with a softer place to land, next time. Perhaps outside? That'd be a good start. Gods, I'm such an idiot.'

[Brandon Blackwing]

The woman sitting behind the receptionist’s desk threw him a tired smile as he dragged his leg and the rest of his body closer, and used the support the counter gave him to keep himself on his feet. It was a little unstable to place all of his weight on his healthy foot, but if he didn’t his ankle would torture him with worsening pain, and that was not something he wanted. He looked at the receptionist and cleared his throat. “I’m here for my ankle. I think I twisted it, though I’m not sure… “ The woman smiled again and told him someone would come to take a look soon. The bat gave a nod in appreciation and stepped aside, clearing the way for the next person in line.

That person seemed to be an Inartan female, well, she had the fiery hair colour of those people anyway, but that was about all he knew about them. He watched with interest and empathy as she too limped towards the counter. He grinned slightly and spoke up when she had stopped talking to the receptionist. “So, what kind of stupid thing did you do to have to drag yourself up that petching staircase?” He continued to keep his grin on his lips, which faded however as he realized he would get the same question returned from her.

“Me? I fell … from a roof … Kind of.” Bran paused a moment to gather his thoughts and decide if he’d tell what actually happened or would just stick with this. Then he shrugged, he’d tell her, it wouldn’t hurt, only maybe his pride, but just ‘falling from a roof’ was even more stupid than what he’d actually done. Made him sound clumsy. “Okay, I tried to jump from roof to roof, but I didn’t quite get to the other side. I jumped too early I think… resulted in this.” He pointed at his foot and laughed nervously.

He had no idea why he’d started a conversation with her, maybe he’d just felt like it, socializing with someone with similar injuries. Maybe he’d hoped that they’d share similar interest because of that, even though one could get a limp from many causes, be it just a walk with a poorly placed foot or a door slamming shut with your foot in between the door and the doorpost. But, maybe, just maybe…

“Ah, I’m Brandon,” he introduced himself with a light bow when he spoke his name. “And you, you must be of Inartan blood, am I right? Your hair colour is a dead giveaway. Yet, that’s all I know about the Inartan folk, that and that they are very outspoken. At last, that’s what a dog told me once… Gods know where she is now.” He wouldn’t admit it easily, but he actually missed her. He hadn’t seen her often, only two times actually but he’d grown fond of her. She was -had been a fun person to be with, just like Enggy was, yet entirely different. He shook his head unnoticeably and banned the bittersweet memory of his first friend in Lhavit to the back of his mind.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Arysana]

"NPC Speech" | 'Thoughts' | "Sana's Speech" | oocI left it in mid conversation so it looks like Bran and Sana are in deep conversation. Ollie, I hope it is enough to work with!

Sana spoke with quick breaths and an awkward slowness, at one point turning away from the receptionist as she let herself take in a heavy breath, almost taking a short hobble around the room to get over the pain and get on with the treatment. 'In, and out. In, and out.' The progression of conversation was the typical, or at least it was as far as she could tell. Name. Injury. Gist of the tale should she be fine enough to tell it. Urgency of the situation. Was there a doctor that she preferred, or one that she usually saw. Ollic. Is there any mind in waiting.

It was difficult to hear with her head beating so loudly, but there was a small string of words that she could always hear as clear as day. 'Those petching stairs.' "Gods, don't start me on those petching stairs-" she was quick in speaking and exaggerated in body language, immediately shifting to the use of no gestures as her usual motions sent a fire through her veins. "And I-uh-I tripped. And ran into... things. At my parent's house. There is a slight stair between rooms, and I... forgot to factor it in. Ok, I was trying to cartwheel and it didn't work. Yourself?" her tone in her last word was perhaps too keen, trying to press and move onwards with the conversion, and to not dwell on her stupidity.

Her worries of embarrassment were dashed as the man shared his own ventures, a tired laugh escaping her lips as she pictured the thought. He seemed fit in form enough, at least many times more so than herself. She opened her mouth to ask how in Gods Names he'd made it to a roof in the first place, slamming her mouth shut as she considered the myriad of possibilities.

A jolt shot through her, her pain flaring up the moment she acknowledged it, and thoughts of stone walls and looming heights seeping back into the crevices of her mind. "I'm Sana, by the way," she gushed, as though speaking the words as quick as she could manage would excuse the lateness of her own introduction.

Brandon, he said his name was. A short look up and down the man had her decide that the name fitted him well enough, the words of her mothers people, soon followed after by a remark of a lost friend setting her in a strange place. "Yes," she sad, rather awkwardly, "My mother is Inarta," she pressed her lips as she sought a direction to move. "And your friend?" Sana could scarcely hide the frown she wore, the word 'Dog' ringing in her ears. "Would be pretty damn right."

She gave as much of an encouraging look as she could muster, her own place being a rather awkward one. Friends were a thing she had few of, and she was yet to see any of them leave, the look taken to Bran's features having her wish she'd never have the displeasure of such a thing happening. "She's one who was brought up in Wind Reach?"

Just as she was managing to put her mind to thought and away from her aches, it seemed that the slightest breeze was enough to plunge her back into feeling, every little point of pressure alive once more. 'Busying thought takes much of the pain away, or at least has me forget. Something like mediation? In the constant throwing in and out of awareness?'

[Ollic Rimesage]

Time was set short, and the Vantha knew this. He had woken up later than usual today. His memory was foggy, his vision undoubtedly blurred. He could feel the little contents there was in his stomach churning in infallible ways. He tried to keep down whatever it was that was threatening to come up.

He had no recollection of the night before, neither did he have any ideas of a ‘wild night’. His imagination conjured up irrational and inappropriate things as he frantically searched his person. From what he could see, he was still wearing all his clothes; all his personal belongings accompanied him. Then what was it that felt strange?

With a headache pulsing and daring to explode, Ollic slowly sat up in his bed. His mouth tasted acidic and his tongue felt numb. His lips were buzzing, a humming sound coming from somewhere behind him. However, when he turned, there was nothing to see.

What was that ungodly noise and why wasn’t it ceasing? He slowly started to panic, rage bubbling up inside him. It was overwhelming the emotions that were bottled up inside of him. It was as if he was a teenage child going through the age of maturity. He was not only emotional, but nauseous as well.

“Petch this,” he muttered as he threw off the covers that had suddenly manifested over his legs. He turned so that his feet hit the floor and slowly reached down to scrounge for his shoes.

“Where are you?” he said to himself before spotting one shoe from out of the corner of his eye. He strained his pupils to see in the dim light the room supplied him with. The drapes had been pulled shut, for reasons he didn’t understand.

Before he had gotten much farther in his attempt to locate his other shoe, a moan sounded from beside him. Ollic whirled around, startled half to death by the sudden sound. A woman, her blond hair strewn in luscious locks about her face was lying next to him. She wore no clothing besides a scarf tied around her neck in a loose knot.

“Wha-?”

With his heart pounding furiously and his emotions blistering his internal organs, Ollic rose. Confusion swarmed him from the inside out. He didn’t know what was going on and was willing to beg to have such knowledge.

There were no signs of Hokato or Spirit, but he wasn’t overly concerned with their presence. He was more concerned about why there was an unwelcomed person in his apartment.

But what could he do? Wake her up and kick her out? What if they had something the night before, where would that leave him? He couldn’t risk smothering the potential romance they had possibly shared?

With his mind reeling rampantly, thoughts striking him from all angles, Ollic adjusted his pants and re-buttoned his vest before walking over to the front door.

What he was going to do right now was get the hell out of there. He didn’t really want to be here when the woman woke up. The pessimistic thoughts that he conjured in his mind were of the woman realising who he truly was and rejecting him for it. He couldn’t bear to go through such a thing.

His heart was quenched in misery, his mind obligingly accompanying it in such feelings. For now, he was just going to forget about everything that had happened and proceed with his daily duties. This included attending work at the Catholicon.

He quietly shut the door behind him, remembering not to lock it. As he was walking down the stairs and exiting the building he couldn’t help but feel dirty. I’m a perversion of a man, he thought as he traipsed in the direction of the healing centre.

“How stupid could you be?”

With one foot replacing the position of the other, he found himself gradually climbing the vast amount of stairs to the Catholicon. All the while complaints flew out of his mouth in subtle murmurs. Questions engaged the conversation with their own mutual opinions. Why was this created like it was? Why so large and tall and remotely impossible to climb when injured in such a matter that posed difficulty? He thought such a place was meant to be easy to get to.

Finally he had defeated the evil entity the stairs possessed, walking through the doors that were already partially open. He continued to walk through the building, not minding where he was going. It was all habitual instinct, something he had subconsciously gotten used to. Now, his physical body directed him to where he needed to be whilst his mental state remained unaware, lying in a recliner in the back row.

I wonder what there is for me today, he thought to himself once he had arrived at the receptionist desk.

The man didn’t even pay attention to the couple already standing there. He simply rushed past them and went to talk to the receptionist. He had no current knowledge of her name, for he had never asked the entire time he had worked here. He simply said, ‘hey you’ if there was ever a time he needed her to acknowledge him.

“Has there been anyone for me today?” he asked her.

The woman looked up from the various paperwork she had been working on and gave him cold eyes. One of the things ladies like her despised was being interrupted time and time again. This often resulted in inquiries on Ollic’s part. For why would someone with distaste in something such as that become a receptionist?

Either way, he kept eye contact with her until her irises flittered to the side. Ollic followed her gaze, turning around to peer over his shoulder.

A man that appeared to be as short as the Vantha stood next to a woman. His eyes were dark as night. It was almost as if there were secrets held captive behind the pupils, deeming them necessary to dig up no matter how hard it would be. His hair was stark black as well, giving the man a dangerous look.

As for the woman, her crimson hair was fallen loosely behind her back. Her eyes were beautiful, enchanting, enticing and oddly familiar. Her facial structure and button nose resembled someone he must have dreamt in a memory or had met in another life.

Finally the gears in his brain clicked into place, locking images and connecting them into their proper places. He knew who she was and had bonded with her through injuries, pain and those unholy stairs. She was Arysana!

A boyish grin crept up and onto his lips. The smirk formed into an avid smile, glossy white teeth visible and all. The corners of his eyes crinkled in recognition as he dismissed the lady behind the desk and went over to greet her.

Whether the two were still conversing or not, Ollic didn’t care, he simply strutted up to her quietly and feigned a cough, sticking out his right hand in a gesture for attention. He was offering a handshake to both and whether or not they accepted his motion was their problem.

“Sana,” he breathed, the letters rolling off his tongue in thick waves of amber honey. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

Suddenly he factored in what he was doing. His smile dropped instantaneously and the genuine happiness in his eyes faltered into nothing.
Socialization wasn’t his strong suite no matter who he knew or who he had previously met. Before anyone could accept his gesture, he dropped his hand. He took a large gulp of air and felt the melancholy seep into his veins.

The floor started to raise, Ollic slowly being pulled under as if a weight was dragging him down underneath sand. The air turned stagnant and his heart beat increasingly fast. He saw the man out of the corner of his eye and immediately felt intimidated. He could sense all forms of hostility in the air between the two whether it was imagined or real.

He was often stuck in between the two worlds. Reality played morbid and gruesome tricks with his mind, often resulting with dire consequences. Take for instance, the man waking up to find a woman in his bed, his head pounding as if it were a symptom from a hangover.

“Sorry,” he finally muttered. He needed to change the subject, for the man was staring at him now. Those dark eyes, soulless mysteries like shadows risen from the graves of the undead. They sent shivers up and down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in displeasure.

Abruptly, he snapped out of the illusions that had been portrayed before him. He was no longer in the land of false and untrue. He was back in reality with people and tangible objects.

“Hello,” he said, and just to get things moving along, he added, “What can I help both of you with today?”

He was given no commemoration for trying. The demons always sprung back up from their dormant state held in in the back of his mind. They broke from their rusty chains and fled from the dusty corners into the spotlight of his life.

Let the games of another day begin wholeheartedly, he thought as he presented himself in the way he would any other patient.

Secret :

I had to write more than I would originally have given that you both have two posts on me! Wonderful introduction, wouldn't you agree? Either way, let the adventure begin!

[Brandon Blackwing]

It seemed his observations were spot on, she indeed had Inartan blood flowing through her veins, even mentioning that it came from her mother. Yet, it occurred to the bat that she didn’t want to have a conversation revolting around herself, and changed subject quickly, skilfully using the comment that had escaped his mouth. This Sana was pretty keen herself, whether it was just a wild guess or not, she seemed to feel where the red-head Kelvic’s place of origins lied. Well, she’d never really told him, but just the statement of ‘outspokenness being an Inarta thing’ and ‘we’ when she’d given him that information had been enough to figure that one out.

“I do think so, she’s never told me. Only mentioning being a ‘fake’ Inarta and the tendency of being outspoken.” Ah, he wondered how she was doing, what she was doing and where she was doing those things. The dog Kelvic had mentioned leaving Lhavit, and apparently she had, since he’d never seen her again after that unpleasant meeting. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms either, a sigh. Becoming aware of the question lingering in the air, outspoken or not –he hadn’t heard- he made use of his voice to answer it. “I mean, she looked like a true Inarta, fair skin, hair like fire, but she was –is- a Kelvic, you see. Though I’m not sure if that’s all she meant with it. Like I said before, I hardly know a thing about the Inarta really.” A shrug moved his shoulders up and down, and Brandon shifted his weight, trying to find a better position to stand.

“By the way, why were you trying to do a cartwheel inside a house? You should have done it outside, then maybe you wouldn’t have needed to climb those cursed stairs…” The last part was said with a voice marbled with mocking intent. He’d heard the annoyance within her words as she’d reacted to his mention of the steps earlier, and being one that didn’t always want to be serious, which he felt this conversation had been –way too serious and heavy- he too had changed the subject. Masterfully of course, all thanks to Sana for his initiation in that art. He gave a cheeky grin, eyes narrowing due to having fun. “But you know-“

What he had been meaning to say was stuck in his throat as someone approached, a man as tall as the thief was, thus fairly short, with brown hair parted on the side of his head, a hairstyle Bran wouldn’t want to wear, he was content with his long mane. The man’s skin was toned, although lightly and his body looked quite fit. Broad shoulders, but otherwise lean, lean but fit, just like the bat was. The jaw caught his eye immediately when he started studying the man’s facial structure. It was quite squared, more than any jaw he’d ever seen, not even one of the broad, tough sailors in the port possessed such line. Small eyes, a very light, skyglass blue colour in them. This guy coughed once, obviously to draw the attention towards him. Bran did not have a clue who this man was, but a hand was offered, whether it was directed at the thief or his coppery haired companion was unknown. Maybe both.

As it became apparent that Sana knew him, and he her, Bran assumed the hand hovering in between the trio was intended for her to shake. His acceptation of the gesture was not needed it seemed, though, it would probably be more polite… All of a sudden, when the thief was about to reach out and grab the hand, it was dropped, as was the smile the guy had worn. Confused by the sudden change, the Kelvic gazed at the man’s face, noticing the deep blue hue his orbs were painted with now. Eh? Changing eyes, hadn’t he seen them before? Not his, but someone else’s…

By now, the man looked as if he was about to pass out, his knees shaking and body swaying, his eyes too seemed … unfocussed somehow. A little worried, Brandon took a step forward, a hobble rather, closing in to catch him when he should fall. However, when he did the orbs of the man changed again, now resembling a flame. That couldn’t be good now, could it? But he kept staring -he admitted it, they were fascinating- even when the man recovered from his brief state of whatever it was. An apology was muttered and the thief turned away his gaze when he realized what he was doing. The man sent him a glance, one he didn’t return and posed a question. Wait, what? This guy was the one who would treat them? This was a doctor? Somehow he felt things would turn out badly… a weirdo doctor, great. One who looked at him strangely, and barely managed not to pass out, which had been caused by reasons unknown.

Somewhat hesitantly, after having sent Sana a glance of ‘Do you know this guy? Is he dependable as a healer?’ and a last one of ‘I think he might be insane, are you sure this is a doctor?’ he responded. “I- we both seem to have injured one of our feet… plain old stupidity was the cause I’m afraid.” He chuckled but quit as soon as he unconsciously placed some weight on his foot, his features twisting in pain. “Well, in my case anyway.” Ah, he sure hoped they wouldn’t have to walk –correction, limp- far before they’d reach the treatment room this guy used. But it was better than receiving no healing at all, he supposed. “Lead the way, Doc” the bat spoke, wanting some relief from this aching part of his body already.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Arysana]

"NPC Speech" | 'Thoughts' | "Sana's Speech" | oocPfft, you two. Get a room! XD

Arysana shifted the weight of her body as Bran spoke, trying to take care to observe and take notes of his face and form as the thundering in her skull raged on, she'd already been caught running into someone whose name and face she couldn't recall, and she had no desire to have such happen again. It was headaches like those that she tended only to gain from use of magic, and although it was true enough that she'd perform a parlor trick or two after Kana's excessive prodding, giving in to transmute her sweet little sister a paper weight before she attempted the near fatal acrobatics, she didn't think it would have been enough to warrant such over giving.

Or perhaps it was? What material had she transmuted, again?

With her mind drifting back to what was said and done before the fall and trek, her back struck rigid as the man dove into a short silence, so quickly having grown used to sounds that shifted from words to white noise and back again. She could scarcely help herself but lapsing and tearing apart her own thoughts and actions from the bells prior, not quite content to merely blame herself. It was never so simple, she found, it was a misplaced flow or awkward stance, it was a distraction she had yet learnt how to overcome, or a material that she wasn't quite as competent in as she'd thought.

Then, a single word fell loud on her ears. Kelvic, kelvic, kelvic. She'd only met one before, and the experience was more harrowing in the twists of guilt that were riled within her than anything enjoyable of the sort. She banished the thoughts after the merest of moments, and focused on the other nuances spoken, thoughts of her mothers peoples far more favorable than any other in that instant.

By the time she remembered that she could speak, Brandon once more pushed the conversation further, a shudder jolting through her as she recognized the look that seeped into his features. It was too quick a change to sit well with her, a flustered look on the way to taking her as the core of her stupidity was called into question.

She was too caught up in herself to quite register the short exchange that saved her from embarrassment, the dullness of her mind leaving her blissfully content in caring about little, almost denying its existence as the sound of the voice, and the face and form of the man who spoke, finally clicked into place. Her mind reeled as she went back over the scene, from the words to the gestures and the impish look, managing to miss several splices of conversation as it played out in consequence, catching, at most, the tail end of what was said.

"Uh, right, Ollic - More so of a check up on my part, mother dear's orders, Brandon here should be dealt with first." Her words were coarse, and she made no attempt at clearing her throat until she finished speaking, a frown setting hard on her features as she took in the details of Ollic's, a knot of worry working in her gut.

She found it within her to muster an impish look, mind blundering once more as she tried to figure something to add, to do or say to turn the tension lighter, her grin turning wicked as ideas hit and set, and she prepared for the trip.

She could walk well enough, and decidedly refused to acknowledge her slight limp's existence as she drew closer to Ollic, almost chuckling before she spoke and winding up looking like a cackling fool. She spoke loud enough for Bran to hear perfectly, even throwing him a glance both sideways and mischievous, before inclining upwards slightly as she made do with the height difference, and add to the over all affect she was hoping to gain. "After all, he is the one who managed to fall from a roof," she continued on as though it was nothing more than a passing thought, giving a girlish giggle as she found herself taking lead towards the corridor, before pausing and turning to examine the fallout.

She gave herself a satisfied smirk, before a fun little thought hit her. When did she agree to be treated with a stranger? Would she have to explain what stupid string of occurrences happened in front of anoth- petch.

[Ollic Rimesage]

It first struck him with dismay. The look on the woman’s face portrayed confusion, bewilderment even skepticism. Had she not remembered him? Had they not shared such a horrendous day of climbing both cliff and stair?

Ollic took a few more large gulps of harsh, arid air before succumbing to one of his greatest fears. With the man’s eyes still locked onto his, shadows swarming through his irises, Ollic shifted on his feet in discomfort.

Arysana, her voice quick and dry spoke, “"Uh, right, Ollic - More so of a check up on my part, mother dear's orders, Brandon here should be dealt with first."

The way she said his name made his heart sink. He fathomed meeting her again, and now that he had, he had anticipated a wondrous reunion, his imagination conjuring up vast attempts at parties and celebrations.

However, he was at work, and professionalism played a large role as soon as he stepped through those large doors into the building. He was a different person now, his personality switching into overdrive as he battled his inner emotions and plastered on a stern and stoic expression.

The Vantha continued to listen avidly, trying to decipher each and every one of her words as they slid off her tongue and sliced the silence that had fallen onto the air like a silhouette or dark shroud. He thrashed at it as well, clucking his tongue to the roof of his mouth so that only he could hear it.

As the woman continued to talk, his mind swayed to different thoughts. Some of those thoughts had come up for breath, touching the sun’s rays from having been underwater down in the depths of the cold darkness near the sea floor.

He noticed the way the strange man was applying more pressure on one foot than the other. He was almost using an invisible object in terms of support on one side, his arm resting slightly on his waist line. The woman, too was shifted on one foot more than the other, her face contorted as if she was being tortured, but had the courage to maintain a brave composure.

It looked like the two had been in a battle, yet had tried to recover to the best of their ability. Arysana’s hair might have been let down over her shoulders, but it was ratty and tangled in knots. The man’s was messy as well, the raven hues taunting him as he inspected the two with wary eyes.

What had gotten into him? Why was he feeling as though anyone who looked at him wrong was the enemy? Why was he even think such dastardly things about one of his so called friends?

Ollic’s eyes lingered toward the hallway. He tried to connect the dots that were floating around in his head, hitting one another with incredulous speeds. Was he allowed to take in two patients at once? Did he even want to do such a thing?

What he really wanted was to take in Arysana alone, patch her up and engage in an inviting conversation with her. He wanted to discuss what had happened over the past couple seasons and what she was planning to do. He wanted to know how she had gotten hurt in the first place and share his own adventures since they had last met.

He most certainly didn’t want to take in the man with her. Fear grew in his stomach like a plant threatening to sprout, one that would lead to creating a plague that would fester in the minds and bodies of locals throughout the city.

What if these two were together? What if they were a couple? What if Ollic’s dreams, his fantasies, his wildest manifestation were nothing but childish ideas and hopes? He was soon dejected, thrown under a stampede of horses.

He felt strange. He had never thought of someone like he had of Arysana, for he had only met her one day! Even then, they had hardly exchanged more than a few words at a time. So why did he feel so attached to the woman? Why did he crave her enticing features and her personality?

He recalled back to the time when he had made a fool out of himself. He had been climbing a cliff, the very one the woman had been before she fell and sprained her ankle, earning cuts and bruises to accompany said injury.

He was hoping to retrieve he lost equipment when he too, slipped and fell. It was as if he was flying, downwards rather than upwards. His life flashed before his eyes, truth be told through the veil that cliché signified. He made contact with the ground, his arm twisted into a revolting position.

The two had trekked up the hills and through the forest and over various pathways until they had managed to come face to face with the menacing stairs everyone despised with their entire being. With both their hearts set on mastering the steps, they finally reached the top.

Arysana accompanied him into a room where a middle aged man helped him with his arm. He was given a sling, his tongue was stitched up and the scrapes and bruises he had been awarded with were merely latent reminders of the time the two had shared.

What happened to that?

Suddenly the woman’s voice cut into his memories like a knife through butter. “After all, he is the one who managed to fall from a roof," she said through a subtle giggle.

She started to move toward the hallway, her eyes straining as if trying to telepathically speak to both men, wanting them to follow her. Ollic obliged, following in step behind the young maiden.

He tentatively stuck out his arm, before drawing it back to his side. Was he just about to wrap his arm around her waist? Thoughts blurred together, the lines becoming inconceivable to separate from one another. It probably would have looked like he was simply helping her walk, but to him, it was different, it was more than that.

He quickly turned on his heel to face the other man. A malevolent smirk dared to burst to the top and string itself upon his lips, but he refrained from showing such hostility, such ‘in your face-ness’.

“I can take you in as well if you’d like. From the looks of it, you two have the same injury. It will be quicker that way.”

He gesture with her hand, motioning for the man to follow. He wasn’t going to help him walk, for he could do it himself. Actually, Ollic was doubtful he wanted to help Arysana walk if she needed it as well. Something was off about him today, but he couldn’t put his finger on it exactly.

As if he had been deemed worthy of becoming a leader, he took a step in front of the other and started to walk down the hallway, hearing footsteps following him. He smiled.

“This room right here shall suffice,” he said, pointing toward a room just to the right of him. It was only a few yards away, something he would have wanted if he had sprained his ankle or broken his foot.

He walked through the room first, heading straight towards the wall, a counter pushed up against it, bearing all the doctoral tools and medicines. He was in his area of expertise now. Socialization was out of the question, but when it came to healing others, he was on top of it as if it was his life in the balance.

“So tell me,” he started, weening in to hearing his voice echoing through the room. The floor seemed to quake with his presence, but again, that could just have been his imagination. His eyes drifted to one of the herbs, a tonic said to help hangovers.

His head was still pounding, although he had tried to will it to subside, to at least weaken in strength. What had he done wrong that he deserved such torment? With his eyes widening he began to overthink a multitude of scenarios.

What if he had gotten so wasted and had sex with that woman he had found in his bed? What if he had gone out at night and partied, breaking things and vandalizing buildings? The next thoughts were lodged in his throat, threatening to strangle him to death.

What if he had killed someone?

Dismissing the idea as if it was a playful game, he shook his head from side to side, diverting his attention to the topic at hand.

“So tell me,” he said again, this time louder, with more authority held in the depth of his throat. “How did you two come by injuring yourself?

[Brandon Blackwing]

Well, at least the weirdo of a doctor listened to what Sana was telling him, but maybe not as attentively to him, the same thing was up with the glances he gave the both of the patients. The woman received his full attention, his stare lingered around her longer, and mostly hasty ones were sent in his direction, though the bat too received an observation, albeit a whole lot briefer than the girl. Not surprising really, since the both of them seemed to know each other already, he was just an appendix clinging to them, mostly ignored by most but causing horrible pains to others. He just hoped that he was wrong. Painful appendixes were to be removed, which he didn’t want to happen to him.

Sana stated he should be taken care of first, a gesture of gallantry that a gentleman should make, claiming she’d only come for a check-up. Yeah right, he’d seen the limp she walked with, he’d heard her explaining what happened, this wasn’t for an ordinary check-up. No no, he should be the one offering to let the other be treated first. But then a glare was sent his way, and their eyes locked briefly, the message was understood instantly. He’d seen that gleam in her eyes countless times already when staring into a mirror. Something was coming, some jape that would prod him, something teasing perhaps? Though something he might laugh about, some kind of mockery of him. And he was right!

Though her statement was said while facing the healer, it was skyglass clear that it was direct at the thief. Oh, burn! Oh, oh, vengeance would be his, and he wouldn’t waste too much time, he’d pay her back even before her words had grown cold. However, he could laugh about it, a chuckle left his lips before he’d noticed, brief but audible for anyone in the vicinity. He shrugged casually, as if throwing it off his shoulders, but his eyes flared with the same glister she had shown. A shark-ish grin shaped his mouth, words flowed out of it with deadly aim. “True, but at least I did it outside.” A random statement for anyone who hadn’t been included in their previous conversation, but Brandon was sure Sana would get the message. There, an eye for an eye, how’s that? He didn’t even smile with faked innocence, but kept his grin painted on his face, laying his intentions out for all to see.

They’d begun to move towards the hallway, Sana leading, and not Ollic –which was how the insane doctor had been called by the partly Inartan girl. Though Doctor Strange followed suit, taking place next to her, or almost anyway, the bat hobbled a bit behind, his foot giving him more trouble that before. This was bad … probably. If Ollic knew his job as good as Brandon did his, than he needn’t worry, but things didn’t look that way. Oh well, he’d soon find out. However, it would be just his luck to have this guy pass out on him while treating his foot. Or that he’d go insane –even more than he already was- and attacked him with those small medical tools. Such fantasies wouldn’t become reality though. Hopefully. You never knew with these types of people.

And at the exact moment those thoughts rushed through his brain, the probably insane weirdo doctor spun around on his heels and faced him, a smirk appearing on his features for just a tick before disappearing, and pretending that never happened. Shivers ran over the bat’s spine, were his fears about to come true? Had that been a smirk saying ‘You have no idea what is going to happen to you’? No way! The Doctor continued his pretence with the comment that he’d treat both of them at once, an excuse? Would he murder the both of them? Or was there no meaning to that smug expression at all? You never knew with these types of people.

A motion of his hand, gesturing the thief to follow him, and they entered a room on the right of the hallway, which smelled medicine-like and clean, like only rooms in medical facilities can. They hadn’t have to walk far, a gift of fortune that had blessed him, or misfortune? Was this just to avoid people from noticing the two patients and the man that was actually no doctor here, so Doctor Psychopath could get away before the rest of the Catholicon would come across their dead bodies? Or was it just what it seemed to be, a doctor being considerate towards his patients? No idea, you never knew with- ah, you get the point. Ollic spoke up, his voice bounced of the walls multiple times, fading a bit more each time. He was standing near a counter littered with medical tools and bottles and pots, even a herb of sorts. Further than ‘tell me’ the man didn’t proceed, thoughts grappling his collar and dragging him into the depths of his mind for a couple of moments, or so it seemed. He freed himself instantly, while Bran’s eyes wandered through the chamber, and started over again. The thief nodded, happy with the authority and professionalism sounding through his words. Maybe he was a competent doctor after all, when he wasn’t losing his mind that is.

“Alright, I’ll tell you the tale of my fate, but let me start with saying this,” he casted a glance sideways, to Sana who he was standing next to before continuing. “On the contrary of popular believe and of what Sana here seems to find very amusing and told you, I did not fall from a roof. I jumped and just happened not to reach the other side, thus resulting in a rather rough landing, which injured my foot.” He realized he already had told what happened, so he needn’t speak anymore. “That’s it I guess. I came here right after.” He shrugged, so much for trying to make it into a heroic tale, but it would have been rather hard to do. And now he could only hope that the façade of the ‘doctor’ wasn’t one, but true professionalism, and that he would know what to do. Preferably not bringing amputation up as the only solution, though he could see that happening. But hey, you never knew with weirdo’s like him.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

The smell of sterile cleanliness tingled at the reimancer's nose, holding her face in an awkward screw as she attempted to make the violating feeling leave with minimal effort, the sensation taking longer to pass than she'd have liked, goose flesh rippling her arms as she watched Ollic move and prepare himself for the tasks at hand.

It was always a point of interest to see the change that came when one focused on work. How the careless smiles and chatter dissolved to those far tighter and more practiced, to see how one's movements no longer took any greater expense than was necessary, and how their work ethic so greatly impacted the demeanour that took to them. Ollic was different than he was the first time, she decided, her gaze falling from head to toe as she tried to place her thoughts, a certain stiffness to the man that set her at unease. Was he more experienced? Had he learned a great deal? Or was it stress? Perhaps he was upset?

Her goosebumps remained running rampant across her skin, and she tucked herself in tighter as she tried to figure their cause, a chill splitting down her spine as she dwelt on the last time she was in such a room a moment too long. The blood, the screams, that blighted look. Had his arm set right? Could he still use it as well as he had before? Or was such damage permanent? Guilt was wretched in her gut once more, and she almost let an apology slip as Ollic chose to speak.

It was time to spill their secrets, and Sana was more than happy to allow Brandon to go first, a tired giggle leaving her as she noted her own honourable mention, a complacent little look taking to her features. “As for myself,” she began to muse, the carefree nature of Brandon’s own admission almost freeing her of her own humiliation. “I…” she quickly found herself trailing, mouth poised as she stopped her words mid formation, and awkward glare towards Brandon as she tried to seek a manner of speech that would lend a similar kind of normalcy to her own blunder.

“At my little sister’s behest, I tried to do a cartwheel. Inside. Forgetting that there is stair in between the rooms. I hit the ground strangely… bumped my head.” She pressed her lips bade away the scarlet flourishing of embarrassment that was creeping onto her features. “I, I should be fine. Just a bump.” She felt herself stressing her words, brushing her fringe from her face as she rubbed her left temple, rolling her shoulders and dropping her hand as she recalled which of her loveliest features she’d just put on display.

She gave a painfully slow nod of her head, thoughts once more shooting back to that day in Autumn. It was worse, then - right? She was fine then, she'll be fine now. Gods, Ollic was worse then.

She set a glance towards Brandon, taking in how his own clothes were scuffed and dirtied, his black hair wild and windblown. "Doctor’s orders?- Mind if I take a seat?" She strained for a lighter tone of voice, as though the question of who was the lucky one who got their pain relieved was so simple a question, trying to bring back that atmosphere that she and Ollic had the first day they'd met, her next words more of playful mumble than an outright question. "I still can't quite believe you- Why were you trying to jump roofs?"

Had she been fit enough, she'd have given a hearty giggle, instead happy enough for a light huff, shifting towards the side of the room as she sought something to put her weight against, making it as far as one of the chairs before deciding she didn't want to move any further, and allowing herself to drop heavily into the seat.

As she hit the hard surface, she was bitterly reminded of all the little aches and pains and bumps, giving a scowl and sigh as she allowed herself a moment to get over it, posing herself rather awkwardly in her seat as she took to a position comfortable.