 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
| Clive Arwell | Renasi Reium | Feemerson Crowley | Adam Crowley | Trajedie Remourna | Jessica Crowley | John Crowley | Joel Marsetti | Jill Hart |
Dee, Darrell & Clive: Paying a visit to the inn Renasi and Feemy are staying at.
Renasi: Sees Clive. …You.
Clive: …Yeah, hi.
Renasi: Walks up to him.
Clive: Sticks his chin out a little bit. Has an inkling about what's going to happen.
Feemy: …Ren.
Renasi: Punches Clive in the face with all the force he arms can muster. Which probably isn't a lot, all things considered.
Clive: Turned with the blow, even took a step from it. All things considered, it was harder than he thought it would be. …Alright. I deserved that.
Feemy: Ren!
Renasi: That's for Feemy! Slugs him in the arm too. And that's for Maman.
Clive: Winces a little more, scowling. Fine, but you hit me again and you'll be spitting teeth, got it?
Renasi: Gets up in his face. You're a slimy no good bastard.
Clive: Back in his face in return. Through his teeth, rather than right out speaking it. And you got a real grasp of the obvious, fag boy.
Feemy: Enough! Both of you.
Renasi: Looks like he's about to hit him again. I don't ever want to see you again!
Clive: Then close your eyes.
Renasi: Hits him in the arm again, then turns to leave the room.
Clive: Would retaliate, but he also finds that he's been held by the arms by Dee and Darrell.
Feemy: Please, both of you. Sighs.
Renasi: Makes good on leaving the room.
Feemy: Rubs his temples. Arghh… Dammit.
Clive: So I was supposed to apologize to him why again?
Feemy: It was your idea to begin with. Stop complaining. Leaves the room to catch up with Ren.
Renasi: Heading upstairs, fists clenched.
Feemy: Makes his way upstairs as well.
Renasi: Enters their room and gets back to his embroidery, grumbling.
Feemy: Enters and settles down behind him, placing his hands lightly on his shoulders. …Renasi.
Renasi: Yes?
Feemy: …Clive wanted to apologize to you. Rubs his shoulders gently, trying to ease out some of the stress that's accumulated.
Renasi: Hmph. Wasn't doing a very good job of it, was he?
Feemy: …You did punch him twice before he could say much of anything…
Renasi: What he said indicated enough. I won't accept an apology from him.
Feemy: …He's not good at articulating it and he has a temper problem, but he really is sorry, Ren.
Renasi: I'm sure he's only doing it for his own means. He can apologize by making himself scarce.
Feemy: I don't think he is… He swallowed his pride by even coming here… I'm just asking… Please give him a chance to at least apologize?
Renasi: He hasn't changed one bit from how I remember him. If he really wanted to apologize, he'd be up here.
Feemy: He might have come up, but Dee and Darrell are kind of… keeping a hold on him, last I checked.
Renasi: Only to hit me back. No, Feemy. I'm not moving an inch. I have more pride than that.
Feemy: I'm not asking you to move for him… I agree, you shouldn't. I just… I guess I'm asking that you understand that this was difficult for him and he at least made the effort… Sighs.
Renasi: He's still filth with no redeeming qualities. Jabs the needle into the cloth viciously.
Feemy: He has some… It's just hard to see it under all the said filth.
Renasi: Well tell him to work on that and come back later. I won't accept an apology from someone who called me 'fag boy' only minutes ago. If he shows me no respect, I'll grant him only the same.
Feemy: Granted that you did hit him three times… Though I'm certainly not blaming you for it… I've been wanting to do that for a long time and never had the guts to. What times it did look like I was going to lose my temper, Ren helped calm him down.
Renasi: He got what he deserved. Being hit three times is a small price to pay for the years of mental abuse he put you through. It's not like I'm the strongest man in the world, either.
Feemy: Moves forward so he can press a kiss to his cheek. You're my knight in shining armor.
Renasi: You're important enough to me that I can find the courage to stand up to jerks like him.
Feemy: I wish I had that in me, too. Strokes his hair a little, trying not to get in the way of his sewing.
Renasi: Well, I'm not going to stop you from visiting with your friends.
Feemy: Well, my best friend is right here. I'm going to tell them to leave and be right back.
Renasi: Feemy, you should hang out with them. Just because I'm your best friend, fiance, lover, whatever, it doesn't mean you should only hang out with me. I wouldn't want you to. Not that I don't like spending time with you, but you should spend time with other people too.
Feemy: I know… Pulls him into a brief hug. I'll be back up, though… With Clive pissed off, Darrell's not going to want to hang around and you know how Dee is. Just a little weird hanging around her…
Renasi: I guess.
Feemy: …I'm sorry you're mad, Dove. I'd make it up to you if I knew how.
Renasi: Just go on, Feemy. Sighs.
Feemy: Sighs as well, giving him another kiss on the cheek and indeed gets up and heads back downstairs.
Dear Dr. Marsetti Joel,
I'm sorry you haven't received any letters from Nicky lately. He says he feels bad for it, but doesn't have the strength. He's really spent most of his time sleeping lately. As I promised you, I'm taking extra good care of him! I'm very much looking forward to when he's well and we can come to the infirmary. Not only do I want to know Nick better, but Dr. Simon is really starting to get on my nerves lately. He doesn't respect the nurses, you know? Besides, he's always chuckling. Well, I shouldn't speak badly about my employers, should I? I'm sorry! Still, I'm counting down the days! Hehe!
Sincerely,
Anita
Dear Ms. Remouraina,
You don't know me (yet!), but I'm writing on Nick's behalf. He hasn't felt well enough or been conscious long enough to write lately and so he asked me to send out letters to you and Dr. Marsetti explaining the situation. I'm sure he'll be able to write again soon and Dr. Marsetti's entrusted me with the duty of taking care of him and I refuse to let him down! But I digress, hehe! I also wanted to take this opportunity to make greetings to my future coworker! You're so lucky to be apprenticed to Dr. Marsetti. What a great opportunity! I wish you the best of luck in becoming a full-fledged doctor! I don't know you personally yet, but Nick said you were a very nice young lady and I have no reason to distrust him. I look forward to meeting and working with you! I hope we can be good friends!
Sincerely,
Anita Valerio
Adam: Walks his fingers along Trajedie's body.
Traj: Can't help but get tingles through her body from his touch.
Adam: Hums a bit.
Traj: Smiles a little bit wider, showing her dimples, and reaches out to stroke at his hair.
Adam: Lets his finger trail around her torso in circles and patterns, making different designs.
Traj: Eyes move to look at his visage instead of his wandering finger. …Enjoy using me as your canvas?
Adam: Laughs a bit. I'm not much good with art.
Traj: Have you ever tried? Or is it much like how good I am at cooking?
Adam: I've tried… Laughs. Um… It was less than outstanding.
Traj: Well… That's okay. I'll be your canvas anytime regardless. Laughs a little.
Adam: Grins at her.
Traj: Quells just a little bit, though still smiling. Are you going to just trace your fingers on me… or are you thinking of trying your brush?
Adam: I won't paint on you, Traj-Traj… Nuzzles his nose a bit into her tummy.
Traj: Runs both hands through his hair. You could if you wanted to… I'd let you.
Adam: Laughs. I'll have to buy some paint.
Traj: You just have to promise that you'll let me paint you sometime too. Laughs.
Adam: Laughs. Sure.
Traj: I'll hold you to that… Hope you don't have any meetings when that time comes.
Adam: Laughs. Yeah…
Traj: I'm thinking… A lot of green. A lot of green… and red for you. Laughs.
Adam: Should wait for December.
Traj: I suppose I could wait that long. What colors would you paint me?
Adam: Violet. Laughs.
Traj: Laughs. My eyes aren't violet enough for you?
Adam: Nope. Snuggles up to her.
Traj: Smiles and snuggles back to him.
Jessica: Crying again.
John: Hasn't gone to sleep yet. A little too worried. Puts his arms around her.
Jessica: Shrinks a bit more into herself.
John: Making sure not to move or jar her. Doesn't want to cause her anymore pain, after all. Can't do much to help her, save for just hold her and let her know that he's there.
Jessica: John…?
John: …Yes, Jessica?
Jessica: …Could you get the doctor?
John: Lets go of her carefully and moves away from her slowly, but is out of bed quite fast. I'll be back as soon as possible. Puts on a pair of pants and goes out the door in a hurry.
John: Makes good time to the infirmary and unceremoniously bursts in.
Joel: …And it was horrible, because the child had horns. I felt sorry for the mother. Sips his tea.
Jill: …I see…
Joel: Looks at the one who burst in, only in pants. Raises his eyebrows. Hello, John… Bold new uniform you have there.
Jill: Stares.
John: Come with me. Now. Using a demanding tone. Not taking "no" for an answer, apparently. Also forgetting manners, too.
Joel: Heard that one before. Never a good thing. Sets aside his tea and stands. Jill, would you accompany me, perhaps?
Jill: Who will watch the infirmary?
Joel: Good point. Just stay where you are then. If you would, start up another kettle. I think those two were our last cups. Soon out the door with John.
Jill: Gets up to make more tea.
Joel: Lead to the room, half out of breath due to the forced pace. What… Pants. …Seems to be the problem…?
John: …Jessica? Not sure what the problem is. Hoping Jessica could fill Joel in.
Joel: Soft, bedside manner voice. …Jessica? Could you tell me what the problem is?
Jessica: …I think I'm sick…
Joel: I see, I see… Well, Jessica… Tell me how you're feeling. Cold? Hot? …Itchy?
Jessica: Both… hot 'n… cold
Joel: Places a hand on her forehead to take her temperature. I see… Anything else? An upset stomach…? Pains?
Jessica: Feels hot. Nausea… but that's from… the baby…. Head… hurts… arms 'n legs… do too…
Joel: Hm… Pulls away the covers. My apologies Jessica, John. Examines the mark.
Jessica: It looks bad. Seems to have spread a little.
Joel: Not even sure he wants to think about what effects the mark could theoretically have on the child. Hm… Also getting the feeling that it's most likely the mark to blame for how she's feeling, but he's keeping an open mind. Has to be completely sure.
Jessica: Blinks up at him.
Joel: It's spreading, I'm afraid.
Jessica: Nods.
Joel: I can't say that this is exactly what is causing you to be ill, though it is likely… When did you start feeling especially bad?
Jessica: …Yesterday…
Joel: Did you do anything different yesterday than you had the day before?
Jessica: No… Just stayed in bed…
Joel: I see… It is my understanding that you saw Dr. Romolo about your mark before, correct?
Jessica: …Yes…
Joel: What did he tell you?
Jessica: …That I was going to die…
Joel: Is that all? No details?
Jessica: …He said there wasn't anyway to cure it… That if I went easy, then I might live longer…
Joel: Certainly didn't decide to go easy either. Hm… I was hoping he may have shed some light on how quickly this mark is going to spread… and what symptoms it causes… Hmm…
Jessica: He said I'd live two years… at the most.
Joel: If you took it easy. Mumbles something as he goes to work timing her pulse.
Jessica: Stares at him, frowning. Her pulse is a little rapid.
Joel: Frowns a little at the rapid pulse and frowns more when he looks up and catches her expression. Debating on whether or not to take a blood sample to have tested. I don't want to leave a shadow of a doubt and she's hurting in her arms and legs, perhaps near the joints. Needle time, sorry. Jessica, what I'm going to do is draw some of your blood and have it tested, okay?
Jessica: Yes… How do I… not have a miscarriage?
Joel: Honestly caught off guard by that question. W…Well…
Jessica: Stares at Joel.
Joel: Well… ah… keeping… healthy is the only means of prevention… Eat healthy… Keep your weight within reasonable limits, manage your stress… and avoid the ill.