not_every_mage | Room 322, Sunday Night

It had been barely more than 48 hours since Anders was last in this room, this safe space that was bright with Rapunzel's paints and littered with his own clothes and books. It felt like it might as well have been years. When he'd left, he could be flip about killing because he hadn't needed to do much of it, not enough to make it real. Now he'd done more than he had expected outside a war. (He didn't feel all that bad about it. Deep down, he wondered if that were a problem.)

In Rapture, he'd been fueled by potions and adrenaline -- too tightly wound by the situation to sleep, to rest, to eat more than a mouthful or so when they'd had the chance. It had gotten him through the horror of it all, and Nathan's pizza had helped dull the gnawing in his stomach. But now ... now he felt, all at once, as if he'd die on his feet if he didn't lie down immediately.

He took off his boots and sprawled on his bed. Drifting with his eyes closed, he imagined what would happen if he took the same crew back to Thedas.

The templars would never see them coming.

[OOC:Closed door, open post!]

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Bloody hell, this was embarrassing. When she had promised Barry that she'd go to Anders or Rapunzel with any difficulties, she was assuming that would be some unforeseen difficulty with her, not .... well.

Eleanor looked like she had thrown her clothes on in a hurry, say, ones that had been balled up on the floor. Her hair was tousled, and her cheeks were flushed.

And she was half-carrying her significant other, what with a hand injury making it damned hard for him to use his crutches.

For his part, Joker was shirtless, and barefoot in his leg braces. He was also a little loopy, from taking too many of his pain pills at once. He leaned out to knock on Ander's door, but luckily realized in time what a bad idea that would be. Instead, he called loudly, "Hey-o! You in there, Mage-boy?"

Edited 2014-09-15 01:49 (UTC)

"Mage-boy?" Anders muttered drowsily,then raised his voice and called toward the door. "I'm in here. Can it wait for morning?"

He felt at the moment as though very few things couldn't.

Joker's hand was purple and swelling in what looked to be very bad ways.

"Is Rapunzel in there?" she called through the door, hopefully. "It's all right. We can just go to the ... the clinic."

She had no right to impose on him, after dragging him to hell. He probably needed rest. Now seemed like a good time to get over her fear of doctors, anyway.

"Are you shitting me?" Joker asked, even though the clinic had been his first thought not five minutes ago. "Casts itch like fuck and take forever. No more casts. Anders is my new best friend. Besides, what if Dr. Navaan is there?"

"No, don't walk all that way," Anders said. He dragged himself out of bed and over to the door, reasoning that -- if he honestly meant to be a healer -- he'd need to get used to midnight visits. "And don't trust Navaan. Just give me a second, please."

The door came open. Before he'd registered much more than that they both looked rather disheveled, Anders greeted them with, "I'm up. What's happened?"

"Sorry to wake you," Eleanor said, her blush deepening. "Joker is -- he's got a medical condition? His bones are brittle, so sometimes they snap."

And now she had to, um. Explain why his hand was -- exactly how he'd managed to become injured. She was almost as red as his hand, by now.

"He tripped."

She really should have thought of something better than that.

Joker snickered. "I tripped really well," he explained. "I am the man."

"Good thing you only hurt your hand and not your legs, then," Anders said mildly. Honestly, between Eleanor's reddening cheeks and Joker's snicker, and the way they were both (un)dressed -- well, he didn't need anyone to draw him a diagram.

He reached for the hand. "Can I see? This might be easier if you sat on the bed."

"Oh, bloody good idea," Eleanor said, guiding Joker into Anders' room somewhat carefully. She was essentially being his other crutch, now, or at least taking enough of his weight so that his legs didn't snap. And then, to figure out exactly how to negotiate sitting from standing.

"Don't mind him," she added. "He's taken rather more pain pills than he ought and he's a bit ..."

Well. Joker, but more so.

"I'm a bit awesome, is that what you're saying? Joker demanded. It sounded like she had been about to insult him, when she should be singing his praises. He held out his hand for Anders to see. "Look, it's just broken. Hurts like a son of a bitch, but it's not like I haven't broke my hand before." He gave Eleanor a big grin. "Not like this, though. This woman is so amazingly, wonderfully..." He cut off sharply, and had a bit of an internal debate. "...I tripped," he decided.

"You tripped," Anders sighed, managing not to roll his eyes. It was bad enough to have people gooey in love around you when they weren't on the verge of an epic overshare.

He reached out and delicately took Joker's hand, evaluating the swelling with his eyes. "But it isn't too bad. If you're already on pain pills, I'll skip the potions and go straight to spirit healing."

He wished he could stop Joker's bones from breaking to begin with, but that seemed to be beyond the reach of any magic he could access. Still, it was something he might research next time he made it into the shop.

[OOC: NIGHT.]

Edited 2014-09-15 03:03 (UTC)

The overshare was going to get Joker thwapped, shortly. Except not literally, because that might actually shatter his skull.

"Thank you," she said, "in advance. I wasn't -- I didn't mean to bother you. I know it's been a long weekend, for all of us."

"It was," Anders said simply. The glowing orb of healing was already starting to form between his hand and Joker's, and that took most of his concentration. "But I felt like it was worth it for Grace and Louise, at least."

A pause. "And you're welcome. In advance."

Edited 2014-09-15 12:16 (UTC)

"Thank you so much," Joker told him, as he watched the glowing orb with rapt fascination. "And I'm sorry that we had to impose like this."

He wasn't going to ask. He wasn't going to ask. It was a horrible, horrible thing to ask. Okay, maybe he'd ask just a little. "Are you gonna be around later tonight? Just in case?"

"No," Eleanor said darkly. "You're going straight to bed and we are not having this conversation here."

Could Anders maybe pretend that he was temporarily deaf? Or that they were speaking Portuguese. Assuming he didn't know Portuguese.

"To bed?" Joker asked, with a wild gesture that took his hand away from Anders for the moment. Make up your mind."

"If you don't hold that still, it's not my fault if the bones heal crooked," Anders warned. "And you should be fine for normal activities, for what it's worth. In bed or out of bed."

To Eleanor, he added -- a touch mischievously -- "Try not to break him, please?"

Edited 2014-09-16 13:34 (UTC)

Room 322, Sunday Night

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