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Feb. 25th, 2007 09:53 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
street-sparrow.livejournal.com[OOM, millitimed to last night: In Spira, Gavroche does what he can.]
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Feb. 25th, 2007 03:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taishar_malkier[OOM: Healing in Yuna's world: blood, burns, and a guest appearance by someone blue and furry.]
When Lan comes through the door, he's not stalking behind Nynaeve or Moiraine for once.
Instead, he's supporting one of them with each arm, walking slowly and letting them lean heavily on him. One gets the impression that if it were only one of them, he'd be carrying her in spite of stubbornness and dignity; as it is, he's supporting most of the weight of both exhausted Aes Sedai anyway.
But watching the room with even sharper scrutiny than usual, with both of them weakened so.
When Lan comes through the door, he's not stalking behind Nynaeve or Moiraine for once.
Instead, he's supporting one of them with each arm, walking slowly and letting them lean heavily on him. One gets the impression that if it were only one of them, he'd be carrying her in spite of stubbornness and dignity; as it is, he's supporting most of the weight of both exhausted Aes Sedai anyway.
But watching the room with even sharper scrutiny than usual, with both of them weakened so.
(no subject)
Feb. 24th, 2007 09:05 pmnight-hibiscus.livejournal.comWhen Yuna leaves the bar, she's not alone.
But when the people she takes along come back, after passing almost twelve hours on the other side, she's not with them. There's just enough time for a little sleep before she hits the road again.
[This serves as the return post for people involved in the triage plot, and as the official marker--OOMs of the night in Spira can be posted at any time now.]
But when the people she takes along come back, after passing almost twelve hours on the other side, she's not with them. There's just enough time for a little sleep before she hits the road again.
[This serves as the return post for people involved in the triage plot, and as the official marker--OOMs of the night in Spira can be posted at any time now.]
(no subject)
Feb. 24th, 2007 06:37 pmelrond-healer.livejournal.com[OOM: A Long Night - Elrond answers Spira's need for healers, and enters in disguise. His skill is great in healing, but against some things, even a stubborn Elf Lord must concede. Warnings for some mentions of death and illness.]
(no subject)
Feb. 24th, 2007 04:06 pmnight-hibiscus.livejournal.com[OOC: After this.]
Sometimes you have to get some air.
Sometimes you just have to (run away) get away.
Yuna was expecting the cold air of the empty Djose cliffside, outside the temple; not the crowded warmth of Milliways. But her face, twisted and set in hard, determined lines, crumples into desperate relief.
She can rest here without losing time. It's perfect.
(She set out from Besaid in a pretty new dress; it's been downhill since then. She's never looked quite this bad. There's blood in stains and patches, on her skirt and her sash, and her hair is in total disarray, clumped nastily in places. There's a smudge of blood on her cheek.
Her hands are clean, but red as boiled lobsters. Her sleeves are rolled around her forearms and pinned.)
She slumps over the bar, taking deep slow breaths. It hasn't occured to her--yet--that what worked for Ray and Garion could work for her; that there might be more than temporary respite here.
There might be help.
Sometimes you have to get some air.
Sometimes you just have to (run away) get away.
Yuna was expecting the cold air of the empty Djose cliffside, outside the temple; not the crowded warmth of Milliways. But her face, twisted and set in hard, determined lines, crumples into desperate relief.
She can rest here without losing time. It's perfect.
(She set out from Besaid in a pretty new dress; it's been downhill since then. She's never looked quite this bad. There's blood in stains and patches, on her skirt and her sash, and her hair is in total disarray, clumped nastily in places. There's a smudge of blood on her cheek.
Her hands are clean, but red as boiled lobsters. Her sleeves are rolled around her forearms and pinned.)
She slumps over the bar, taking deep slow breaths. It hasn't occured to her--yet--that what worked for Ray and Garion could work for her; that there might be more than temporary respite here.
There might be help.
