[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

[keenly]

Colin bobs his head. "Lucky. I made it to Kinloch just in time for the Blight. Though if I hadn't, I'd've died in the Battle of Denerim, so I suppose I'm lucky."

[thereneverwas]

"Lucky you," Barrow agrees-- or rather, commiserates-- but spirits seem reasonably high.
"And just imagine, I could have red lyrium growing out of all my extremities. The things we miss when we stay behind."

[keenly]

A small chuckle, then Colin suddenly looks rather somber.

"They must be in so much p--" He cuts the mumble off because it's sort of a downer. "Um. Anyway. Maybe if there'd been more Templars like you. Or if we'd just...all been able to talk together instead of being kept so separate."

[thereneverwas]

Barrow waves him off. "If there were more Templars like me, we'd be worse off than we are," he assures him with a self-effacing smirk, "now stop inflating my ego and go do your actual work, before Sawbones yells at me again."

[keenly]

An eyeroll and a smile as he stands up. "She really does care a lot," he assures him. "One moment."

A touch to Barrow's shoulders and the glow spreads again--a once-a-day treatment that is less and less tiring each time it's done, with less and less to heal.

"Remember to send for someone if you need anything. I know you don't want to be a bother to people, but it really is my job and Flint will think worse of me if you suffer and I don't do anything, all right?"

[thereneverwas]

One hand lifts in a lazy salute. "Will do."
The unspoken truth is thus: if Sawbones would yell at Barrow for distracting Colin, she'd probably yell at Colin for being distracted by him, so really he's doing them both a favor.