Anders Hellllllp

[avisionofhawke]

Hawke rode the lift down to Darktown, looking for the lit lantern. She had just gotten done with having yet another 'play nice with the other children' talk with Fenris and now she needed Anders to help her understand the other petulant child and what on earth she had done to offend him.

Oh. There it was. Different than last time, but that was probably to be expected.

Comments

*puts on the beaglepuss again*

[cattymage]

Not a full day after he'd finished moving to the new location, and word came that the old one had been hit. He'd cut it almost too close this time.

The new clinic had less light than the old one - rather than the open overlook that Anders was often found leaning over in moments of rest, this one had something a bit like arrow slats - high and slim and tall, focusing beams like spotlights down on the stone and dirt below. Not his first pick, or his second. First pick had been the one he'd lingered in too long. And the second pick had been took up by the Coterie.

The Healer, today, could be found - well - healing. There'd just been a Templar raid on Darktown, so of course there were injured people, trampled over by the Order's typical malfeasance.

Hawke dunno how to handle bitties - or anyone else for that matter

[avisionofhawke]

Aisling strolled in, giving Anders a smile. "Need some extra hands? I've got two I'm not using for anything at the moment."

beaglepuss intensifies

[cattymage]

Speaking of hands--

One of the old man's had been as good as crushed, ground down under an iron heel. But a few moments after Anders finally let the funnel of magic he'd channeled go -- it had wrapped about the broken fingers, and burst like a bubble when he'd finished -- the fellow wiggled them at him, and gave him the widest, most beautific smile he'd yet seen a pair of cracked lips and a host of about three teeth, total, produce.

The man had asked him to shake his hand - the healed one, of course - and once the healer had acquiesced, left the clinic with a laugh.

So Aisling found Anders himself left in a rare good humor, despite the dire straits of the day, even as he was mopping a solid sheen of sweat from his brow.

"I could think of a few things to do with a pair as dextrous as yours," he flirted. "But I think I can settle for letting you prep a few poultices before it gets too full in here. You remember what to do?"

Oh, dear. He looked relieved to see her, had actually tossed her a playful barks first, and was letting her help, where usually he was too anxious over Hawke appearing affiliated (and by extension, Bethany) to allow it. So were things bad? Or did that mean good? It was always hard to tell.

Holy crap it's over 9000

[avisionofhawke]

"Absolutely," she replied playfully. "Oh, and I remember how to prep the poultices, too." Hey, might as well take it at face value and enjoy it while she could, right? It was going to be a mess in here soon and his good humor would probably fade as he overworked himself, so she would take what she could get.

Which meant putting off the bringing up of Pan until it wouldn't ruin either of their moods.

And so Aisling got to work, casting surreptitious glances at the handsome too thin, she would have to bring more food mage every so often.

more beaglepuss. .. .

[cattymage]

Healing time! Crafting time! Time passes, either way, and though Anders definitely grows more weary, he doesn't yet turn distressed. Good. But also, kind of bad, for that entire 'get the conversation about the Pan situation going' thing.

You're great, you know that?

[avisionofhawke]

Well, Aisling wasn't going to argue. She was quite happy to joke around instead of talk about the little brat child with whom she had an issue or three (and also to keep an eye on Anders so she could be certain that he didn't work himself into the bloody ground). And besides, he could certainly use the help.

It definitely had nothing to do with any attraction she might feel or any enjoyment she got from seeing him in a good mood. Nothing at all.