[Closed] I'm either so sick in the head

[showmeyourwreath]

Date & Time: late on July 25-28th
Location: Apartment 810
Characters: Flora, Lestat, and fraaands. Tag yourselves!
Summary: After feeling better than she has in quite some time, she's back in Exsilium, and it's not agreeing with her.
Warnings: None. Well, Lestat'll be around, if that counts.

[ooc: despite the format of the post, i don't really care about tag style, so do whatever you're comfortable with, I'll shift to match. :3b]

On the twenty fourth, Flora did her best to have fun, even though she knew what she'd be going back to the next day. All the more reason to savour every last moment of it to the best of her ability, and she did, even while that lurked in the back of her mind. Late into the day, she made sure to stay near Lancelot and absolutely away from everyone else. Pain had been nothing new for her, honestly, you couldn't be a Guardian Fairy without experiencing it reasonably often (whatever counted as reasonably), but that was in the heat of battle, that was with adrenaline and grit. This was different. It wasn't just pain, either, it was insanity and sickness and sadness. She'd face it, she had no choice, but until it happened, it was waiting for an axe to drop. And waiting, and waiting, and waiting....

Finally, and yet all too soon, they got back.

She couldn't breathe at first, and by the time she could, it was a poisonous effort. The world felt slow and sluggish with the decay, the twisted life and the lack of it, and she moved in much the same way, dazed and swaying. On its heels were the screams like lightning, striking her mind over and over and over. She cried for the world, and the world did through her. It was all the same.

It was too much for her mind to take all at once, and she blacked out. She slept.

It was not sound or restful.


Still, she woke, eventually, awkwardly sitting up in her bed (when did she get here?) and rubbing her forehead.

"A-are we still...at the beach, because my head feels like it was trampled by a dinosaur."

Comments

how rude

[inhumanity]

"Oh?" His face rests in his hands. "Sing your version of the song! Sing your version of the world, in other words. Sing to break again the laws of the world. What happens to the lamb?"

/RESUSCITATES BECAUSE NEED MOAR CHRIS also i like this thread a lot ok

[showmeyourwreath]

She could tell him she's not well enough to, but she feels strangely compelled to. If she doesn't, he might go on about this really upsetting version. It's a matter of principle. She takes a few moments, but eventually, she starts to sing, weakly, but quite on-key Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb! Mary had a little lamb, who played by a magic moat. She'd have rhymed it with snow, but he said "goat", so that is what she thinks the original is.

Thanks, Christopher.

[inhumanity]

Christopher gives her a gentle applause. "Marvellous! Beautiful! Elegantly incorrect. What a touching song. But how does that make a child better?"

[showmeyourwreath]

Maybe the lamb leads them to the moat? It's magic, after all.

[inhumanity]

He grins. "And drowns them?"

He might just be making fun of her at this point.

/gives you the AN ATTEMPT WAS MADE star

[showmeyourwreath]

"No, of course not!" She gives him a look. "They can take a drink of the water, and be fine."

[inhumanity]

Christopher only laughs. "You mean that the water will cure the children? Or will they cure the lamb? You mean that medicine from a friend or stranger is the way to good health! Wow, Flora! If you wanted to accept my offer for help, you didn't have to follow such an indirect route."

[showmeyourwreath]

"In my version, the lamb is just fine. No sacrifices necessary." So, there. "It will cure the children who drink it."

Wait, what.

She deflates, a little. "I didn't want you to go out of your way...besides I'm not congested or anything like that."

[inhumanity]

He is already turning for the door. "I'll be back before you wake up again."

Not that she is asleep.

uses inappropriate icons just because.

[showmeyourwreath]

"I'm not sleeping, Christopher." Should she even really bother trying to argue, though?

Probably not.