[Insert motivational comforting speech here because I can’t word today.]
Have a lovely picture by @destinyapostasy of my OC Passion comforting @feynites‘ Thenvunin (design courtesy of @pyrrhy) at some point during their as yet Unspecified Military Shenanigans.
Their friendship began with him being the only one in her Non-Magical Self-Defense class to successfully dodge her punches. (Who thought it was a good idea to have her train a bunch of Sylaise and Mythal’s snobby fledgling battlemages anyway?) It continued through years of saving each others lives and supporting each other in the field. They survived when so many others they knew did not and they will remember and carry on.
There’s a lot that I love about this picture. Between their hair and their faces they just look so tired and so done but they have to keep going. As always, the faces are A+ fantastic - the strong lines, the noses, everything. The hands are great too. Just…aaaaaaah! I really wish my brain would cough up the words for this scene to do it justice.
Thanks again for bringing them to life.
Edit: I must also add thanks to @pyrrhy for all her wonderful art and designs that helped inspire this. Sleepy me was a doofus and forgot to mention this in my original post. Sorry!
The slightly suspicious microwave indeed stopped to turn or to vibrate and then the light switched off. After the dinging sound. It still was somewhat off. Maybe magic was the better choice to get anything done here.
After exhausting the natural availabilities. Maybe a familiar bowl would help the angel feel a little bit better. Glancing around, the only ‘bowls’ he could find in this laboratory were metallic and…
… was that platinum?
Another look confirmed that there were several beholders that were indeed massive and almost pure platinum. With raised brows, he acknowledged the expensive tastes in lab equipment. The pure material cost was… substantial. In the ten to hundred thousands? It did beg the question in what price classes the chaos in those walls played. It’s not consistent. Some bookshelves seemed to be cheap glued-together wood, the glassware partially C-grade. The carpet not particularly high quality...
Walking back into the living-hobby-room, he looked around and saw maybe a genuine oil painting crammed into a corner. Cashmere wool in the wool bin. Genuine silk she was spinning. Directly around the corner was a small desk with a dedicated lamp and small tools to maintain mechanical pieces. Those seemed to be… clockworks. And those also did not look… cheap.
So this particular angel at least had an eye for quality… sometimes. Taking this into account, the whole area looked more intentional. Not only tidy, but a somewhat coordinated chaos – somehow.
If he had to be honest with himself? He liked the place. Definitely not his style. But it had charme. In a slightly too cold way. He was certain there was no draft in the room. But the windows already made it feel that way.
For emphasis, a cough came from the mastermind behind it. And it wasn’t from the same spot he left her in. Taking three more steps around the next shelf, he saw her stand there and take a deep breath.
She turned when he made another step on the naked wooden floor. Her expression and deadpan. Raphael, apart from a barely visible sickly feverish blush, she looked like she was supposed to be taken seriously. Posture straight, eyes clear, mouth unamused and looking down on him, even with the height difference.
He stopped in his tracks and looked at this apparently intact and slightly aggressive archangel for about five seconds. Until she visibly recognized him, her shoulders slumped, her features softened and she smiled apologetically: “I’ll… have… tea ready in a moment” and she sneezed into her elbow, only slowly standing up to her smaller-looking height with a groan.
Hm. So. That had happened…
He definitely had to put in a veto on the moving around, if he had anything to say about it. She looked at Asmodeus while he stepped closer, big questioning eyes watched at him, she apparently had absolutely nothing to input on the matter.
After setting down the soup on the table, he nudged her sternum with two fingers. The most miniscule of pressure was used. The angel unceremoniously fell back onto the couch, knees buckling as soon as they hit the slightest resistance. Didn’t even try to keep her balance. Simply accepted the falland landed. Didn't brace for an impact in the slightest. But then sat there, looking bothered: “… can’t make tea that way”
He put a hand on his hip, almost not believing it. That was… even less sensible than he had expected: “You do not need to make tea, angel. In fact. You’re not supposed to do anything. You're supposed to rest.”
When she did absolutely nothing but look up with a blank expression, he put a hand on her forehead to check how the fever was doing. Since her skin was undoubtedly and significantly warmer than his own hand… it seemed to be a very active immune response. Plus: the angel closed her eyes and leaned against his hand with a relieved sigh.
“… how did you let it get that bad, mh?” He ran his hand over her hair and stroked over the mess on her back.
Another staring moment, then she said: “… haven’t slept since five years,” she shrugged very slowly and then tried to move to get up again.
“Oh no, you don’t…” He pushed her down in the cushions and just… let a miracle take care of a full tea can and some cups, plus soup bowls and a ladle, when he was already at it: “See, there’s tea. No reason to move. Now… you know it’s helpful to actually sleep, right? I know we don’t have to, but you can.” Fevered doctors might forget the simplest things.
“… can’t. Tried. Milk… n melatonin… n warmth… n bed-nest… n… yeah... no…” She shivered the words out.
Seeing that, Asmodeus grabbed the original blanket… and another one from the pile... pulled her a bit away from the backrest and wrapped them around her. She grabbed the ends thankfully and nestled. The angel probably didn't even notice that he sat down next to her: “You did take medication. Right?”
After the usual waiting period, she nodded: “Ibuprofen… and vitamin C… didn’t… didn’t do much.”
He could see that. Well. Maybe she just needed soup to finally get some rest: “… be prepared for the oldest home remedy then. We’ll get you healthy in no time,” then again, she did basically sleep in on his lap before. So what was that about.
I managed to get tickets to SDCC! *happy dances everywhere*
I am so excited and I've been just-*can't quite find words here but the sound is very loud I am sorry*!!!!
*fails*
I need to go and make something to celebrate. Cookies? Chocolate? Cheesecake? Chocolate cheesecake with cookies? I don't know but I need to go and do something with my excited energy.
*clears throat* This really didn't go anywhere... But thank you for your time! I hope you have a brilliant weekend!
