Re: [m] maybe i should cry for help

POSTED: Tue Apr 03, 2018 1:20 am

She had become a healer because it had been one of the only pursuits that Akantha had scoffed at, the golden haired matriarch unperturbed by the sudden interest her daughter had in the macabre. Odalis had always thrown herself into positions that would alienate her mother or force her to question the blood bond between them. Mother had always been distracted just enough, whether it was with Solomon, Lucian or Isandro. She was a powerful woman surrounded by doting men - and she had allowed Odalis to do as she willed, or so Odalis had always thought.

As the man worked carefully on her hands she glanced toward the stuffed satchel that she lay cast aside on the ground near to her. She had travelled with practically nothing save for an extra shawl, a small amount of food and limited supplies that she supposed could have been used to bind her wounds had she set her mind to it.

She couldn't help but offer sheepishly, "I studied healing..." She realized that given the circumstances it seemed ridiculous, "It's different in the real world."

And it was true. The Morenos had expected nothing but calm servitude amongst their pupils, and though Odalis had learned much from them when it came to tending to a rolling garden or calming a frightened child... she had found it more difficult to watch them complete their surgeries or set broken bones. Rust was turning her hands and examining them carefully, flexing each of her fingers to ensure that they all moved properly.

He was methodical, though there was still a certain warmth in him that had Odalis leaning closer to observe his work.

She winced when he squeezed too hard, raising her good hand to gently brush at his own. He was so silver.

Odalis smiled prettily, "I am from the Court of Miracles." She canted her head, "But I was born up North, in Sapient."

"I do not usually wander so far from home... but-" She felt herself blush, "Something told me to wander." Her eyes went hard, "Next time I will not be so foolish."


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POSTED: Mon Apr 16, 2018 8:37 am

“The real world?” This gave him pause, for it was not the first time he had heard such phrasing. For Neith, the real world was everything outside Salsola, as if the Thistle Kingdom were a pocket of society so self-important and exclusive that what lurked beyond its traps and brambles was like something of wish fulfillment. He wanted the real world to match a vision he built for it: Honest labor, truthful families, a good conscience, a tendency away from spirituality. A world cemented in kindness and grounded upon what was real and tangible.

He knew it wasn’t like that beyond Salsola. Even in his briefest of early spring travels, Neith determined the real world to be as harsh and cruel as Salsola, and found context he hadn’t been looking for as to why his home made the decisions they did. They protected their own, for there could be worse outside its walls.

Neith found little that could be considered worse, so far. That man and his son, for one. Starvation and the whims drawn about by desperation. “It is,” he said, “but if there is anything to rely on, it is that there are as many kind folk out there as there are unkind.”

She winced when he squeezed in a particular place, and through sensitive fingertips he palpated for disturbances under the skin. The Heiwa was quiet, at least for a time. When she called herself foolish, he paused and looked starkly at her.

“Foolish? You aren’t foolish.” If he had learned anything from Briarblack, it was that some learned faster than others. For him, it had not been until the war, then illness that stirred Salsola just under a year prior, that he began to investigate and ask questions and find for himself a path forward. “You’re fortunate. You’ve dealt with less of this—you’d know more of healing if you had. Is this what it is like in the Court or Sapient?”

He found only reasonable tension in the tendons of her hand upon further inspection, and so he began to wipe away the disinfectant salve applied, tossed aside the bloodied linen and wound a bandage around the closing cuts. He smiled.

“I hope you will continue to be so foolish, as then perhaps I will see you again,” said Neith, tucking the bandage in to secure it. “What will you do from here?”

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