beyondthedoor | ♔ call me out

Entry tags:

-rp with me

♔ call me out

CALL ME OUT.

Welcome to Whose Turn Is It Anyway, where the rules are made up and the timestamps don't matter. If you want to start a private PSL, do some voice testing, or whatever the hell you want-- you're in the right place.

Here's my muselist. Pretty much everyone on there is fair game. Ask for a character, or maybe take yourself over to the megameme if you don't have any ideas. There are no expiration dates. If you drop something and pick it up eight months later, I will tag you back.

Go forth. Have fun.

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[Truth be told, being scooped up by Thrall would be the least of all afronts to Waver's dignity. How many times did Rider scoop him up by the back of the shirt like a scruffed kitten? So it's with zero hesitation that Waver takes the arm, and moves very carefully to the cabin. His footsteps are paced, and he makes an effort to ensure that it looks as natural as possible.

Waver fakes it until they're in the cabin proper, which surprises him a bit. In the little bit of time elapsed, it feels as if he's slowed significantly, and when he flops into the spindly chair in the corner, his leg feels like lead.]

Shit, I think walking on it made it worse.

[Thrall closes the cabin door behind them. In a moment, he's back at Waver's side.]

I think it did. You've strained yourself enough, my friend. [He sighs.] I need to take a better look.

[He pauses, clears his throat. He's not going to tell Waver to take off his pants. He'll just try to roll up his torn-up pant leg instead.

Meanwhile, his arm tingles like it's falling asleep. Flexing his fingers makes it clear that isn't so. It's strange, like when someone's rubbed at his skin too long.]

[Waver leans down, doing the best he can to help roll up the pantleg too. He pauses though, and sighs.]

It might go quicker if we just cut the fabric off.

I don't want to damage your clothing further. [This is fine. He draws his hands over the cuts. There is warmth combined with a subtle coolness, like salve; that would be his healing magic.]

Hnn... There is something in your bloodstream. I will do my best to purify it, but without aid from the spirit of water I can only do so much.

They're trousers, and pretty much shredded to hell already. I can get more.

[But the protest falls silent after that initial feeling of warmth. Waver's toes curl, just to make sure that they can, and for the moment it feels like all is back to right.]

Is there any way that other water magic might help?

There might be. Water magic -- [He hates caling it that, SHAMAN STUFF IS DIFFERENT THAN MAGE STUFF] -- boosts healing by clearing away the toxins. If you can be that precise with your spells then it may just be enough. In the absence of that, I've been... treating the symptoms, and hoping the sick will sweat it out.

[He's not as great a healer as his mentor, though he's gotten more practice in the past couple years in the Drabwurld than he has in about a decade.

Speaking of fever, he's starting to feel a little bit odd. It isn't like he's losing control of his limbs, but he feels hot and cold at the same time. Everything is tingly. Very strange.]

I, ah... [He looks at Waver, and feels his cheeks darkening with embarrassment.] You'll have to pardon me. I think I have been afflicted as well, though with something... different.

I'm nothing if not precise. I'd just need fresh water and--

[Waver pauses, his head tilting a little.]

Different how?

I feel flushed, for one. [He'd normally forge past it, but it's very suspicious.] My heart rate is elevated... perhaps I am about to be sick? I do not know.

I've never felt this before.

[Truth be told, Thrall's own situation is a welcome reprieve from the panic Waver's starting to feel over his leg.]

Is it anything you can regulate with your healing abilities?

[Yes, let's focus on the tough guy. He can deal with it.]

It doesn't appear to be harmful... at least not yet.

There is water below. If I fetch some, would that be adequate for your magic?

[Might be good for Thrall to get out of the cabin too. He's feeling panicky and flustered.]

That'd be the ideal, actually.

[Waver sighs, and tries moving his leg. That it stays still sends an unwelcome chill up his spine, and the look he gives Thrall hints that he's much more scared than he's letting on.]

Could you do this quickly, please?

[Thrall's not dumb. He can tell Waver is in trouble. He leans in, sets a hand on Waver's shoulder.]

I will be back as soon as I am able.

[Then he turns and is gone.

He keeps his word. It takes maybe three, four minutes tops for Thrall to come back. No one wants to stand in his way and he'd chew out anyone who did. He's carrying two buckets of water like they're nothing, and he sets them down carefully within Waver's reach.]

I wasn't sure how much you needed. Is it worse?

[In the time that Thrall has been gone, Waver has focused all of his energy into understanding precisely what's happening to his body. Whatever this stuff is, it isn't in his bloodstream. If it was, he'd feel it - after all, magi must be aware of all fluctuations in their body at all times. Which means it's likely small spores or something of the sort on his skin, causing the inability to move. Walking around would spread the spores on the fabric of his trousers and make everything worse.

It's a working theory, at least.

When Thrall walks in, Waver's managed to stretch his leg out and rest it a top a small stool, so that it's easier to work with.]

About the same. I think that whatever it is, it's on my skin rather than inside, so we might get very lucky. Is your issue improved?

Then this should be easier than I expected. [He has a towel just in case.]

I feel better for having some air. What do you need me to do?

Get the towel wet, then pass it to me? I don't want you touching the leg anymore in case it's topical--

Of course.

[He dunks the towel in the water and passes it to Waver. His fingers linger just a little too long on Waver's hand, though.]

[Waver takes the towel eagerly, but that hand gets a very confused glance. That's odd, given that not even the first healing attempt seemed to be so much about touch.

With the damp fabric in hand, Waver starts scrubbing at his leg as hard as he can. He flinches every so often, meaning that oh thank God he can feel it.]

Okay I think this is working--

[Thrall doesn't seem to notice the look. He's busy watching Waver.]

And then you'll... cast a spell to be sure?

Unless you'd like to try?

[Waver tilts his head slightly at Thrall. It's hard not to notice being watched.]

By all means, go ahead. I cannot use the element of water anymore, but I am curious to see how yours works...

[Don't mind him, he's just inquisitive.]

All right.

[Waver's magic is a precise thing, based on knowing the make up material and breaking it down, understanding the finest parts, and then forcing his will upon those parts. Placing his hand down onto the skin, he murmurs something under his breath, and then--

--well, nothing. There's no glow, no indication that anything out of the ordinary is going on. But after a few moments, Waver does lift his hand, and flexes his foot.]

There. The last of it's gone.

[It's not fancy or showy, which only makes it more interesting. Thrall's ears perk up. He can barely detect any change, though as a healer, he has some sensitivity to a body's state.]

Fascinating.

[He holds his hands out just to be sure. After a moment, he lowers them again.]

Is all magic from your world that way?

Not at all. More skilled magi than I do have more flare. I'm...technically not considered very powerful, all things considered.

Zuggossh. [The inflection translates that for Waver. Probably 'bullshit'.] You have silence spells and wards and enchantments I could not dream of.

True enough, but magic's about inheritance. Longer lines have more powerful magi. I'm only the third in my family--

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