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+---- Thread: [CLOSED] Give me a pen, call me "Mr. Benzedrine". (/thread-6054.html)
Give me a pen, call me "Mr. Benzedrine". - Avinalora - February 07, 2019
A tiny figure padded from the jungle in sight of the pyramid and amongst the ruins. She was tiny for an Aviari, and for an Algerim by some standards. She was silver with a darker saddle that extended downwards in stripes. Her body was marked with black scars that covered most of her body, the most noticeable ones were the one across the empty eye socket of her left eye, the one on her right cheek, and the many scars stretching around her left hind leg which was held above the ground as she walked with a three-legged gait. Her long, green feathers matched her single green eye and her long, bottlebrush tail almost brushed against the ground as she walked. A silver ankh with wings and a smaller ankh carved into it hung around her neck on a black cord and a satchel clinked with her movements.
Avinalora had just returned from her herb-gathering trip into the forest. She had always been an early riser and found getting up with the sun was natural for her - it could also be her aching leg - and often completed these trips before the sun was high in the sky. She moved slower than she used to so having a lot of time was beneficial to her. The Algerim didn't dally on getting back because as her mother always said, "A healer must always be ready".
As usual, the winter wraith's visage was always set into the beginnings of a scowl and close to glaring at anyone unfortunate enough to gain her notice. She didn't give a damn what other people thought of her or what they would say about her, reputation be damned. She had patched them up or healed them sometime in the past or would have to do so in the future.
The argent healer padded into some well-kept ruins that were near the Pyramid and became her clinic of sorts. She had a smaller living quarters above the clinic that had two entries from inside the clinic or outside, hidden expertly with ferns. Moss and ivy clung to the stone, some hanging off to create a curtain for the entrance however it was clear that it was occupied when the small Aviari pushed the vines aside to made the entrance more visible.
The silver Cardinal dropped off her satchel near the wall where she stored herbs and other medical supplies with a as a slab of stone that served as a table between them. The opposite wall had a couple of beds for patients that needed to stay overnight - something that wasn't usual now. It was lit by a small stone fireplace with a natural chimney to let the smoke out. There were only some hot coals that the healer would have to remedy later.
The moonwashed medic sat down at her stone slab table and pulled out a journal with the word "Inventory" scratched across its leather cover and began cataloging her current inventory with the new additions from her latest trip. A small pine marten with fur that was silvery instead of its natural hues crept from her hole. The monochrome female flicked her ear in acknowledgement and the small creature joined her on the table.
OOC: If anyone needs a healer or any Cardinals want to meet her, then that would be cool~ Or if anyone's nosy then come an annoy her I guess.
RE: Give me a pen, call me "Mr. Benzedrine". - Lorcan - February 19, 2019
She's got records, alright, but nothing remotely useful. His blue nose scrunches, glancing over more medical texts that mean absolutely jack shit to the Lark. Naerileen could probably decipher this bullshit, but he doubts there's anything in here she doesn't know already-- or even care about. Shoving the tome back where he found it, he goes digging instead through her stores. He's got to be quick about this before she gets back-- poking around a healer's hovel makes sense if you're hurt, but getting in their stash seems like drug-seeking... even if he is.
Lorcan freezes at the first sound of movement, shifting his stance away from where he smells supplies and favouring his weight to one side. He's almost glad for the fall-- it gives him a reason to bother the Cardinals, but he's not hurt enough to suck up his pride and see his sister about it. It's best not to see the same one to often, or they might figure out what he's up to. Good thing there's no Caladrius right now, so they're not organized enough to see his scheme.
Still feigning stupid, he calls, "Anybody in?" After a moment of quiet he takes as an all-clear, Lorcan rifles through the stash, and comes up with only painkillers he already finds wild. Disappointed, but not dissuaded yet, he starts shoving his nose in other nooks and crannies to see if she's hiding it, like his sister started when his trial went bad. All he gets for the trouble is a bat on the nose from a pine marten.
Stumbling back to reassess, more sounds from outside, and he quickly ducks upstairs. Still and silent, he hears her moving around underneath, and carefully matches her movements to get him closer to the exit. Good thing she's got another way out; being in the clinc is one thing, but her living space is something else entirely. Finally she settles with her damn companion, and the Lark takes one last look around before making an escape. Seems like the good shit is upstairs-- but he's got nowhere to stash anything he takes now-- so instead, he circles back around, widely, to make it seem like he's coming from farther than he is, limp back in place.
"There you are," the Riverine interrupts her cataloguing, inviting himself in. "I was here earlier." That explains the smell of him. "Mind taking a look at my side? I had a pretty nasty fall yesterday."
Lorcan freezes at the first sound of movement, shifting his stance away from where he smells supplies and favouring his weight to one side. He's almost glad for the fall-- it gives him a reason to bother the Cardinals, but he's not hurt enough to suck up his pride and see his sister about it. It's best not to see the same one to often, or they might figure out what he's up to. Good thing there's no Caladrius right now, so they're not organized enough to see his scheme.
Still feigning stupid, he calls, "Anybody in?" After a moment of quiet he takes as an all-clear, Lorcan rifles through the stash, and comes up with only painkillers he already finds wild. Disappointed, but not dissuaded yet, he starts shoving his nose in other nooks and crannies to see if she's hiding it, like his sister started when his trial went bad. All he gets for the trouble is a bat on the nose from a pine marten.
Stumbling back to reassess, more sounds from outside, and he quickly ducks upstairs. Still and silent, he hears her moving around underneath, and carefully matches her movements to get him closer to the exit. Good thing she's got another way out; being in the clinc is one thing, but her living space is something else entirely. Finally she settles with her damn companion, and the Lark takes one last look around before making an escape. Seems like the good shit is upstairs-- but he's got nowhere to stash anything he takes now-- so instead, he circles back around, widely, to make it seem like he's coming from farther than he is, limp back in place.
"There you are," the Riverine interrupts her cataloguing, inviting himself in. "I was here earlier." That explains the smell of him. "Mind taking a look at my side? I had a pretty nasty fall yesterday."
RE: Give me a pen, call me "Mr. Benzedrine". - Avinalora - February 19, 2019
It didn't take long for Avinalora to notice the fresh scent of a male that had arrived maybe minutes before. She didn't see anyone in the main part of the clinic so and she didn't smell a second scent that would indicate the male had left. Elkumis confirmed her suspicions and added that he was riffling through her herbs and books but hadn't taken anything yet. That knowledge alone was just enough to get the female's blood to start to boil as she already didn't like it when someone walked in without her being present. The moonlit Cardinal could only imagine what kind of mess and havoc the male had left in his wake.
But the stranger carried the scent that told the argent Algerim he would need treatment and she took some time to compose herself. He was a patient and no matter how much she wanted to rip a chunk out of him for his actions, she had a job to do. However when her companion added that he was up stairs, the female's opinion of him went even more south than it already had. Horus and Xiulcoatl give her the strength to not rip him a new one.
The monochrome medic turned to the voice and saw the male walk into view, she knew the only other exit out of the clinic was outside. Her face was the perfect image of a seriously pissed off Aviari with her feathers flexing and her eye narrowed. The only thing missing was the baring of her teeth, but her words were as sharp as the fangs she would have used.
Behind her, the pine marten glared daggers at the wolf.
Don't even try to lie to me, the green and silver Aviari said, I can tell the difference between one scent going in and out and a scent going in but not coming out.
The silver fae's voice got even sharper.You're lucky that you need healing; the next time you come into my clinic, rummage through my stores, and - or - go into my personal quarters, I will be less forgiving.
The moon-washed healer got to her feet.Let me see your injury. it was an order, not a question or request. Has it been treated before you came here? Her eye narrowed, Have you done anything to it? There was an unasked question, 'Did you treat it with any of my herbs?'
Hell hath no fury like a pissed-off Avinalora.
But the stranger carried the scent that told the argent Algerim he would need treatment and she took some time to compose herself. He was a patient and no matter how much she wanted to rip a chunk out of him for his actions, she had a job to do. However when her companion added that he was up stairs, the female's opinion of him went even more south than it already had. Horus and Xiulcoatl give her the strength to not rip him a new one.
The monochrome medic turned to the voice and saw the male walk into view, she knew the only other exit out of the clinic was outside. Her face was the perfect image of a seriously pissed off Aviari with her feathers flexing and her eye narrowed. The only thing missing was the baring of her teeth, but her words were as sharp as the fangs she would have used.
Behind her, the pine marten glared daggers at the wolf.
The silver fae's voice got even sharper.
The moon-washed healer got to her feet.
Hell hath no fury like a pissed-off Avinalora.
OOC:
Discussed with DustyForgotten about Avi figuring out some of what Lorcan did. Dusty, lmk if I should edit anything
Discussed with DustyForgotten about Avi figuring out some of what Lorcan did. Dusty, lmk if I should edit anything
RE: Give me a pen, call me "Mr. Benzedrine". - Lorcan - February 19, 2019
He recoils at the venom the Algerim hurls at him. Aren't Cardinals usually kind, nurturing types? Maybe that's Doves-- either way, Naerileen's an outlier. Squinting, with a twitched snarl for the marten that ratted him out, Lorcan defends himself. "Look, it hurts every time I breathe, and I thought you might be up there. Forgive me if my head's not on right." If she thought demanding it would get the truth out of him, she has no idea how to deal with teenagers. Because all that still sounds reasonable, he sneers, "You're not my mom." It's a sore subject for most after the war; few families are left intact. His was dismantled before that, but the hermit he's talking with has no reason to know that.
The Lark turns to head back out the door, but stops short, gritting his teeth on a hissed breath. Makes a show of swallowing his pride. "There's plenty of Cardinals. You gonna help, or should I keep looking?" Despite all the threats, she's trying to help, so he takes a couple of loping strides towards her, presents his bad side.
"Has it been treated before you came here? Have you done anything to it?"
"No," he hisses back. How dare you accuse me of something I would totally do! He shuts up for a moment while she looks it over, eyes the interior because he just can't help himself. She's got nothing to go for but a couple of trinkets upstairs, and now she's suspicious of him, so that bridge is burned.
"How's it look?" Illidan said it was nothing to worry about--even if he looked pretty queasy-- but the kid's just a Sparrow, so what does he know? Still, a couple days later, and Lorcan knows the bruise is starting to bloom. If he's ever getting something good out of the old bird, it's now.
The Lark turns to head back out the door, but stops short, gritting his teeth on a hissed breath. Makes a show of swallowing his pride. "There's plenty of Cardinals. You gonna help, or should I keep looking?" Despite all the threats, she's trying to help, so he takes a couple of loping strides towards her, presents his bad side.
"Has it been treated before you came here? Have you done anything to it?"
"No," he hisses back. How dare you accuse me of something I would totally do! He shuts up for a moment while she looks it over, eyes the interior because he just can't help himself. She's got nothing to go for but a couple of trinkets upstairs, and now she's suspicious of him, so that bridge is burned.
"How's it look?" Illidan said it was nothing to worry about--even if he looked pretty queasy-- but the kid's just a Sparrow, so what does he know? Still, a couple days later, and Lorcan knows the bruise is starting to bloom. If he's ever getting something good out of the old bird, it's now.
RE: Give me a pen, call me "Mr. Benzedrine". - Avinalora - February 19, 2019
Avinalora's patience was once again being tested as the boy gave the excuse of not being quite in the right head because of pain. The youths of the tribe were even more difficult to deal with than their elders and it was getting on the female's nerves. His sneer made her ears flatten and her feathers flex. Don't do it again, she hissed, feeling like it was the point to push rather than calling him out on his bullshit. The moonlit healer couldn't change what had already been done but she could stop it from happening again.
The argent Algerim didn't respond to the male's latest quip since she learned from her last encounter with another youth of the pack who was just as annoying and as idiotic as this one. If he wanted to find another Cardinal, that sat fine with her, but he didn't leave and showed her the wound. Unless the male walked out of her clinic, then she would have to help him as her duty as a Cardinal and as an ancestor of Horus dictated.
The moonlit Cardinal padded closer to the male, her nose searching for the familiar smell of crushed leaves on his breath and on his wound. It didn't seem like he tried to play Cardinal with himself, though it would teach anyone a good lesson, most of the time. His response may have been more indignant that anything but she would move past that. However a quick glance shared between the scarred healer and Elkumis had the pine marten scrambling up stairs to double check.
The monochrome medic scented the wound for infection and if the male was telling the truth, she wouldn't be surprised to see the start of infection. Even if it wasn't infected, there was still a chance and she quickly thought of what herbs she would need for the injury. A mixed poultice would do the trick it seemed but the small healer was unsure if the male was lying about pain while breathing.
How were you injured? the moon-washed Aviari asked as she padded over to the table where her companion met her. The glance exchanged told her all she needed to know and the female told the pine marten to get her prakasha, marigold, and penta since she didn't want him coming back complaining of infection or pains. If his response confirmed her suspicions, she would add comfery to the list.
The argent Algerim didn't respond to the male's latest quip since she learned from her last encounter with another youth of the pack who was just as annoying and as idiotic as this one. If he wanted to find another Cardinal, that sat fine with her, but he didn't leave and showed her the wound. Unless the male walked out of her clinic, then she would have to help him as her duty as a Cardinal and as an ancestor of Horus dictated.
The moonlit Cardinal padded closer to the male, her nose searching for the familiar smell of crushed leaves on his breath and on his wound. It didn't seem like he tried to play Cardinal with himself, though it would teach anyone a good lesson, most of the time. His response may have been more indignant that anything but she would move past that. However a quick glance shared between the scarred healer and Elkumis had the pine marten scrambling up stairs to double check.
The monochrome medic scented the wound for infection and if the male was telling the truth, she wouldn't be surprised to see the start of infection. Even if it wasn't infected, there was still a chance and she quickly thought of what herbs she would need for the injury. A mixed poultice would do the trick it seemed but the small healer was unsure if the male was lying about pain while breathing.
OOC:
I left it vague on the injury and left it open for response. Lmk if anything needs to be edited! Here is a description and layout of Avinalora's clinic.
I left it vague on the injury and left it open for response. Lmk if anything needs to be edited! Here is a description and layout of Avinalora's clinic.
RE: Give me a pen, call me "Mr. Benzedrine". - Lorcan - April 03, 2019
She snaps at him again, and Lorcan, like an absolute child, sticks his tongue out at her. If she got over herself long enough to really look, it's easy to tell pieces were torn from the sides. He stays still enough during her inspection, baring his teeth at the fucking marten whenever it gets close, but uncharacteristically lax for the young Riverine. Maybe he really is hurt.
"How were you injured?"
"Like I said, I fell. You want a fucking reenactment?" He's an obnoxious liar, but no one's gonna catch him in one that easy. At any more pressing, Lorcan shifts his belly to the ground, sick of standing and settling in for some real healing. "I fell out of a tree, okay? Just slipped like an idiot." He will argue if she agrees. Shutting his eyes, he mutters, "Some kid took a look when it first happened, and he said it wasn't bad, so I've mostly ignored it." That is at least true-- Lor's no crybaby; he can suck it up when it serves him.
Out of nowhere, he's overcome with an instinct that he shouldn't be here: either fix it yourself, or let the thing kill you. Trust no one-- not even Naerileen. Quick as it came, he shoves the thought away. That's his dad talking, and when has he ever listened to that dead fuck?
He's tense, though. Maybe it looks like pain.
"How were you injured?"
"Like I said, I fell. You want a fucking reenactment?" He's an obnoxious liar, but no one's gonna catch him in one that easy. At any more pressing, Lorcan shifts his belly to the ground, sick of standing and settling in for some real healing. "I fell out of a tree, okay? Just slipped like an idiot." He will argue if she agrees. Shutting his eyes, he mutters, "Some kid took a look when it first happened, and he said it wasn't bad, so I've mostly ignored it." That is at least true-- Lor's no crybaby; he can suck it up when it serves him.
Out of nowhere, he's overcome with an instinct that he shouldn't be here: either fix it yourself, or let the thing kill you. Trust no one-- not even Naerileen. Quick as it came, he shoves the thought away. That's his dad talking, and when has he ever listened to that dead fuck?
He's tense, though. Maybe it looks like pain.
RE: Give me a pen, call me "Mr. Benzedrine". - Avinalora - April 04, 2019
Dies irae, dies illa,
solvet saeculum in favilla.
Confutatis maledictis,
flammis acribus addictis.
voca me cum benedictis.
solvet saeculum in favilla.
Confutatis maledictis,
flammis acribus addictis.
voca me cum benedictis.
Avinalora glared at the male again, she wasn't a fan of people talking back to her. Yes, she was a hypocrite but she didn't give an actual fuck. She would kick him out of her clinic if he wasn't injured and wanted him out as soon as possible. She had very little patience for her patients when they invaded her space. But he was a patient nonetheless and it was her duty.
But the argent Aviari didn't know how injured he was. He fell from a tree but how did he land? His legs weren't broken so he didn't land on them and he was still walking so it wasn't his back.You landed on your side? she asked as Elkumis returned with the herbs. The tone of her voice had less bite than before but with the same note of authority. The moon-washed medic padded back to her work table.
The monochrome Algerim began to make a poultice of marigold and when she was done, she began to squeeze the juice from the penta plant. The penta would clean the wound and ward off infection. She looked back at her companion and the martin began to take the roots of the plant and put them into the other mortar to crush. Even if she didn't need it, she would keep it out anyways.
The green-eyed healer padded over to him.The side that hurts, I need to feel it to check for injuries to the bones, she stated in the authoritative tone once again, her voice purely objective. She was a healer and she knew the threat of broken ribs.
But the argent Aviari didn't know how injured he was. He fell from a tree but how did he land? His legs weren't broken so he didn't land on them and he was still walking so it wasn't his back.
The monochrome Algerim began to make a poultice of marigold and when she was done, she began to squeeze the juice from the penta plant. The penta would clean the wound and ward off infection. She looked back at her companion and the martin began to take the roots of the plant and put them into the other mortar to crush. Even if she didn't need it, she would keep it out anyways.
The green-eyed healer padded over to him.
OOC:
Yeet