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 Posted: Fri Feb 07, 2014 10:34 pm
He shifted to take the bottle of medicine from her, carefully setting it aside on her desk before returning to his chair. He scooted it again to illustrate making himself comfortable before taking her hand once more.
"Sleep", he signed, his smile soft but sad.
They should be celebrating, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dread in his stomach. All he could do was help in that only way he knew how.
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Posted: Sat Feb 08, 2014 10:58 am
"Mmkay." She took her hand back and only to start sleepily unbraiding her hair, setting the flowers aside for safe keeping. When she reached up to run her hands through her loose hair, she paused and stared at at inside of her arm.
"There's blood on my sleeve." Amrita murmured in a confused and concerned voice, as if she hadn't noticed it there before until now. She stared at it for a while, briefly wondering about it because of it's odd placement, but in the end it was written off with a shrug.
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 11:19 am
The mention of blood made him tense, his hands perhaps a bit too rough as he twisted her arm to try to examine- was it just a stain? Stains happened. Or was she bleeding?? A free hand grabbed his needle and thread from his pocket just in case as he tried to track down it's source like a grunting, concerned gorilla.
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 6:27 pm
Amrita yelped when Christof grabbed her arm, but instead of trying to pull her arm back she remained limp. Too tired to stop him, really.
"I'm fine." She announced, half-protesting. "It must've been fight with Riley." She tugged on her arm finally, trying to free it from his grasp.
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 6:38 pm
Fight with Riley? Over what? To what end? He gave her a look that asked as much in his furious expression before he turned to rip a strip from his shirt under his vest to mop up the mess and track down the cut or torn stitches and properly mend them. No use bloodying up her perfectly good sheets.
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 6:40 pm
"Wh---no, stop! It's dry! It must be old. Don't ruin your---" Too late, he'd already ripped some fabric free, to bind a wound that didn't exist. "I'm fiine." She whined, not unlike a tired child. "Stop being such a worrywart."
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 6:41 pm
He threw the fabric down, his gestures wild as he signed as though yelling, "SOMEONE-must-worry!! All-I-can-DO-is-worry!"
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 6:54 pm
Her mind ran through the gestures several times before she understood it, and even after she did, she sat there in silence for a few long moments. He only gestured like that when he was trying to yell, and she couldn't quite understand why he would be.
"Over a little blood on my sleeve?" She said finally, still rather confused. "It's just blood."
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 6:59 pm
He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head as he settled down. It wasn't about a little blood on her sleeve. It was about more than that. His gestures quieted as he gently ran his hand along her head, the curve of her patchwork face and exposed bone. When he signed again, it was just one word, "Sleep."
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 7:37 pm
She still looked as confused as ever, but she didn't have the energy to really argue. "Okay." The ghoul murmured, turning away from him to grab a hold of one of her pillows. Without any further prompting she curled up on her side, hugging the pillow against herself.
"We c'n...talk about it...later." She promised, her voice growing groggier and more distant with each word. Now that she was laying down, her mind and body began to shut down, and she fell asleep all too quickly.
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Posted: Mon Feb 10, 2014 10:36 am
He gave a quiet affirmative grunt, sitting back to watch her settle in.
Undead didn't really need to sleep- of course they did, when their Fear Levels were low, when they were emotionally taxed, boredom in the night. But Christof had no intention of sleeping. His brain was racing.
Amrita was free of her tag. The Hunters no longer had their unseen control over her. Would that stop her homicidal, suicidal attacks on them? He didn't know how often she was out hunting in the Haunted House- had no idea how often she had been to Deus or the recent events that had taken place, but he knew enough. Enough to worry. Enough to still be worried. She was free of their devices now, theoretically. But at what cost?
A weekly, crippling pain for the rest of her life. The hunters would not be able to find her, but their claws would forever be in the scars on her core.
There had to be a way to fix this. There was always a way to fix things if you looked long enough. But as the house crawled along around them, he came up with nothing. He knew how to sew an arm to a shoulder, what a healthy sized kidney looked like, but the intricacies he understood of the mechanical were lost on him when it came to the biological. He knew nothing about Cores, except what he had learned in classes.
She'd never truly be free of them so long as she remained scarred.
And in all of this, she hadn't told him, hadn't confided in him much, save once or twice and alright, maybe he did have a tendency to over-react, but with good reason. He could have helped her, somehow. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe it wouldn't have changed a thing.
One thing was clear as he watched the gentle movements of her sleep... he couldn't imagine life- or unlife- without her.
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