milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[oom: Time flies when you're having fun.]

Alex breathes out something like a sigh of relief upon finding Milliways on this side of the door. He could have kept going until he found a phone and seen the whole thing through as is, but it would be better all around if he has a few hours to recover first. Less people wondering what the hell kind of a trouble a ball boy could have gotten into.

His first priority, he guesses, is to get some towels and ice packs from the bar. For something like half the route, he's okay, if limping a little, but somewhere around the mid-point, he feels a wave of dizziness and decides that, actually, what he'd really like to do is sit down.

Now.

The lack of chairs doesn't really bother him; instead, he lets himself ~~fall~~ sit on the floor somewhat heavily and lower his head in the hopes of making the room spin a little less. What doesn't occur to him is that now, to the average observer, there's a fourteen-year-old boy covered in dirt and dust and bleeding from the back of his head (not to mention the scattering of wooden splinters all along his neck and back, and that's only what's currently visible) curled up on the floor.

What was he thinking earlier? Something about less questions?

[ooc: And closed to new threads unless I've poked you, I think. ♥ Alex'll be around for visiting soon.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She'll let him laugh as long as it means he's still conscious. She's there to help steady him.

"Oh yes. This is all right for a strapping young man like yourself. I can at least help wipe some of this blood away."

The waitrat has returned with some clean towels, some water, and a glass of some yellow drink.

~~We'll see godparent and raise you stepfather/potential biological father?~~

He eyes the yellow drink somewhat dubiously. And it sort of does make sense to accept help, but he's sort of wary of unknown adults right now. How about if he compromises and reaches for one of those towels himself?

~~This is a depressing strikeout, man.~~

She'll hand one to him. But Mia's also going to take a moment to let him stand up on his own if that's what he wants. She takes the healing herbs she got out and puts them in the water. Those then go in another one of the towels and, if allowed, she'll gently apply it to the back of his head.

What is it about mothers and trying to do things for others' own good when they don't want it?

"It's passion fruit juice," she explains about the drink. "From my world. It's got amazing healing properties."

He gets over the "trying to take over the world and killing the children that get in his way" thing after his death and now spends his afterlife in Milliways playing with his grandson. Is that sufficiently cheerful?

That's what he was planning to do - minus the herbs bit - so he lets her, though his shoulders are set with tension (and, well, splinters). He uses his towel to deal with the blood coming from his nose.

"I usually prefer antiseptics." No offense to juice, of course. It's delicious, too.

~~Yaaaay.~~

"That is what doctors use, right? I guess that's what he used when he wiped my arm before giving me that flu shot."

The pain should be slowly but surely fading. Healing herbs are one of the many benefits of living in a world rife with magic.

"We mostly have priests at home, people who practice healing magic. I'm not a priestess so I've gotten in the habit of carrying healing herbs around just in case."

Um.

Alex kind of moves his head away from her towel. "'Priests'?"

That... doesn't sound very medically sound.

"Yes. Who know healing magic."

She takes a look at the towel he's moved away from. At least the herbs have done some good.

"Would it help explain things at all if I tell you it's 1042 in my home? It's not Earth but you'd consider us behind on technology if you're from the 20th century or later. Especially if you're not familiar with magic."

"I've heard of it."

But he's... not really sure he trusts it, exactly.

"Most have."

It usually bring about interesting ideas and misconceptions.

"It's widely known about in my home. It's tied into my very livelihood, in fact. But I digress. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay."

Admittedly, though, he's been saying more or less the same thing all along, so...

She eyes him.

With the Mom Eye.

It's her most powerful weapon against boys this age.

"Well, at least you've been able to hold up your end of the conversation. That says good things about your health. But I imagine you'd like to sit down."

"I was sitting," he points out.

And now he's not.

He might have forgotten that part.

"I know. You were the one who stood up."

She would've left him sitting if she had any sort of authority to tell him as much.

"Right."

Actually, he would sort of like to sit down again. Now that he's not in any direct danger anymore, the adrenaline's begun to wear off.

He'd sort of like a chair this time, though.

And a chair he gets, as Mia reaches over and pulls a chair from a nearby table. She then pulls another for herself to sit down by him.

"Hmmm... What to do about these splinters..." she murmurs.

She's not as concerned about the head injury anymore. That's at least had some treatment.

"What's your name?" she finally thinks to ask.

Mainly because she's been tempted to call him Scorpius again and she knows that's not right.

"Alex."

And then, after a moment: "Yours?"

"Mia."

She shakes her head and is tempted to comment on the name Alex but decides now is not the time or place.

She settles for sighing instead. But it's not about him.

"Oh, where's my husband when I need him? He'd probably have a spell to magic all these splinters away in a painless instant. I'll probably have to do it by hand."

Bring down flaming swords from the heavens? Sure!

Summon a blizzard in the middle of summer? Not a problem!

Magic away splinters? Now that's tricky.

She's been nice, but. Well. He can't really bring himself to feel particularly comfortable at the idea of magicing away splinters. "I'd rather - not have magic involved."

"All right. If you're fine with me pulling the splinters by hand."

She's actually thought of a way to magic them away but it mostly involves her going Accio splinters! That would probably hurt more than each individual one will.

She waves the waitrat over again and requests some tweezers.

"I'm probably thinking the way I think at work too much," she comments. "When your daily job involves solving others' problems with magic, it becomes your hammer and everything starts to look like a nail. Do you know what I mean?"

Like how if your job involves snooping into others' business, you find yourself doing it in your off-hours and getting into even more shite? Yes, Alex knows that feeling.

"I think some of them are in my back."

Which means he should probably, um. Take his shirt off. Can we say awkward?

"Would you rather go to the infirmary?"

Because there's stranger awkward and then there's doctor stranger awkward. One of them is a more bearable awkward but that usually depends on how the person in question feels about doctors.

"I can help you over there if you like. And maybe take care of some of these splinters on your neck so taking your shirt off is easier there."

"Um. That might be a good idea."

After all, Alex has had nothing but reasonable experiences with doctor, and he'd sort of rather take care of this not in the middle of a crowded bar.

Mia's so used to Milliways, and bars in general actually thanks to Master Mel and Kyle, being safe havens that this sort of thing doesn't bother her in the least. It's certainly not the first time she's given someone first aid in the middle of a bar.

"All right. Up we go, then."

She stands up and offers her hand to help him up.

"We do have good doctors here. Amazing equipment, too. I'll show you the way."

"Thanks."

He gets up on his own (not so much a snub of her offer as just an automatic instinct to do things for himself) and follows along, carefully.

She doesn't feel snubbed. She just smiles, rolls her eyes a little, and thinks, Boys... as she leads him to the infirmary.

She idly wonders if Cepheus will be like this when he's a teenager. She concludes that the answer is most likely yes.

(no subject)

v-accidentprone.livejournal.com - 2011-07-10 19:22 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only