open | i been up all night no sleep

[okayimin]

WHO: Sister Sara Sawbones, Jenny Lou, Sol Noon AND YOU
WHAT: Catch All
WHEN: Post Satinalia and forwards
WHERE: the Gallows and Kirkwall
NOTES: Sawbones is having a bad time post murderhaus, Jenny Lou is up to some wildly stupid meme shit, Noon's just chilling.

Comments

[okayimin]

She scowls at him regardless, throwing in an indignant little huff on top. "I'm as well as anyone can be," she says, "What do you need?"

Because the idea that he's been looking for her only to ask after her health is ridiculous.

[heorte]

Surprise, that is exactly what Ellis is doing.

Of course, he isn't going to say as much, because no one likes to be fussed over. Instead, he extends his hand to her.

"The cold makes it harder for me to use it," he says of the bent fingers, old injury healed poorly. "I wondered if you knew some remedy that would make it a little easier. Maybe a salve to create some heat?"

[okayimin]

No one likes to be fussed over, but that's never stopped Sawbones from being the one to do the fussing. And having a problem to address makes her more clear eyed and sharp.

She frowns and takes his hand, feeling for scar tissue and testing for motion range, "Elfroot and willow bark. Nothin' I have in stock, but Colin ought to. Meantime, let's get you some hot stones."

And they're going to the kitchens now. No, he doesn't have a choice.

[heorte]

There's no intention to protest. Maybe the range of motion in his hand isn't so high on Ellis' list of concerns, but Sawbones' expression sparks and brightens at the prospect of solving it, and she is high on his list of concerns. Means to an end.

"Tell me what I should do with them," he prompts. "Set them in my pocket to reach for when the hand gets too stiff?"

[okayimin]

She nods, trundling along down to the kitchens, "Wrap 'em up and the heat won't be as harsh, but what I've in mind is rubbing them against your hand. A good flat stone warmed up ripping hot and pressed to the area where you've stiffness should help a good bit."

And in the kitchens, she bustles about, producing several large flat stones from her habit pocket and neatly tucking them into the embers of the fire.

"Tea," she says, "Since we're here, might as well get your hands properly treated."

[heorte]

"Get some for yourself," Ellis suggests, settling at the small table in the corner. Easier to suggest while she's at work, in motion at the fire. He's left his hand obligingly on the tabletop as he watches her.

"The stones are a good idea. I never thought of it."

The truth: he hasn't spent much time thinking of the hand beyond what needs to be acclimated to in the moment. He's gotten used to the ache of it, the stiffness that lingers. There's some novelty in the idea that she's giving him some pointers that might actually ease the long-present inconvenience of it.