[open] can somebody please just tie me down

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow + you
WHAT: Bedrest and recuperation from Awful Things
WHEN: August
WHERE: mostly the Gallows
NOTES: I'll make starters if people want 'em

I.
Bedrest is ideal for people who like to read, or sleep, or sit around pondering life's mysteries. Although Barrow likes sleep as much as the next person, and reading is fine, he has little use for life's mysteries and finds more often than not that he is simply staring at the ceiling and unfairly wishing ill on the medic who impressed on him the need for his joints to mend this way.
He is, perhaps, a little grumpier than usual, but also absolutely desperate for any form of stimulation, so visitors are welcome. Especially if they have treats.

II.
When he's up and about again, Barrow knows better than to go straight to the training pitch and start swinging his hammer around, so instead he defaults to the more leisurely activity of ferrying off to the nearest pub and parking himself there to absorb whatever jollity is occurring at the moment.
He probably drinks too much, especially now, with so much going through his mind; but it's hard to help it, when there's very little else to do and so much he doesn't want to think about. At least he's a pleasant and agreeable drunk, not all that different from when he's sober, but with the sort of absent-minded nihilism that has historically made him either a good lay or a recipient for one's woes. He's rather more open to the latter these days, though the former has its place, at least for the right person.

Comments

[thereneverwas]

Barrow lets the subject go with a chuckle in favor of taking another drag, his eyes closing as he blows the smoke back out. Every night should be like this.

"Aren't you going to read to me about bees or something?"

[sulahnan]

"Yes, of course," she says, with an air of I absolutely did NOT forget about that book wedged by my leg. "I just wanna make sure I'm proper faded for it. Poetry hasn't yet grown on me."

Athessa flips through the pages of the book, skipping the foreword because who gives a shit, and clears her throat.

"Oh, fair damsel of the garden,
Arlessa of honeysuckle and rose,
I humbly beg your gracious pardon
For the offense that here arose.

Surely your work is far too vital
To be interrupted by one like me
I am in no way entitled
To earn the notice of a honeybee."

[thereneverwas]

Oh. It's one of thesebooks.

Focusing now more on the kitten, Barrow listens, or at least tries to. It's not that he doesn't appreciate poetry, it's just...
...well it's just usually better when the reader isn't so slow, and when...
...the poetry is better.

[sulahnan]

Yeah this is tripe.

"I was a fool to pluck that flower
For my lady fair. On my honor I
Swear to bring you dozens more within the hour
If you give me leave to try.

Listen traveler, if you would walk the garden paths some spring:
Mind that you don't trespass, for the gardeners do sting."

Athessa scrunches up her nose and claps the book shut, looking like she just tasted something exceedingly gross. "Well that's awful. I think I'd rather talk about feelings than read any more. D'you have playing cards somewhere in here?"

[thereneverwas]

Barrow replies by snoring gently.

[sulahnan]

Oh no, that's adorable. Athessa leans closer to peer at him past the similarly sleeping form of Lord Fluffy Tumington.

"Are you asleep?" She whispers.

[thereneverwas]

zzzzzzzzz

[sulahnan]

Time to hold up a finger to shush the sleeping kitten, put out the joint and leave it set on a bedside table for him to relight later, and tip-toe out.