wroughtandtempered | SEASONS

Entry tags:

inbox,
seasons

SEASONS - IC INBOX

"...This is Eve. Leave a message if you want. Or just fucking text me, I get those fast."

[ how about she doesn't, though. there's a little pause as she takes in that crackle, puts two and two together, and— ]

Shit. I'll be over in a second— are you bleeding, or is it okay if I take a minute to grab supplies?

[ as though she's not already going right for her kit— there's rapid footsteps on her end and rummaging ]

I don't think I'm bleeding? [Wylan honestly isn't sure where all the glass from the lamp went, or if it's primarily buried in his hair.] I can wait for supplies.

[Still crackling as he properly gets up to his feet and then settles on the edge of his bed.]

Okay. Not bleeding's good. You probably don't need me telling you this, but try not to move it or put weight on it. [ then, muttered ] Where the fuck is— there it is.

Okay, on my way. I'm going to stay on the line just in case? There's been some weird bullshit going on.

Sounds good. [Wylan's voice sounds tighter as he looks over at the mirror.] I had three versions of me come out of my mirror. One was very angry with me.

Three— Huw's fucking mercy. ...I'm sorry. I saw one of my friends get into a fight with his reflection earlier; I should have given a household heads up or something.

[ the front door opens and shuts, and then there's more rapid footsteps down the hall ]

Here. [ there's a click as she hangs up the phone. ] Safe to come in?

Perhaps now is a good time to alert the house.

[A soft sigh as he realizes he is indeed bleeding from his hairline.]

Watch the glass by the door when you come in.

Got it. And I'll send a text once I've checked out your wrist.

[ she's thankfully got her boots on, so she doesn't have to be too cautious of the glass— just makes a face at it as she skirts around it. ]

—shit, looks like you got nicked. I brought bandages too, at least.

[ she's already pulling out an ice pack and a wrist splint to drop on the bed. ]

[Wylan sighs in relief at Eve’s presence. He can feel the warmth of blood trickling down his temple. He thought the worst would be his wrist, but at least that can br treated.

Wylan holds out his left arm, where his wrist is already swollen and bruised.]

Thank you for coming.

Yeah, of course— oh, fuck, yeah, that's unideal. ...Thank you for calling me.

[ she takes his offered arm carefully at the elbow to look it over, frowning ]

This... might be broken. I can heal the bruising and bring the swelling down, but if it hurts after that we'll need to either to head to the clinic or poke Donnie for an x-ray.

[Wylan is still getting used to people saying thank you when it comes to things like this. He winces at the handling of his arm, wanting nothing more than to take his wrist back and try to do it all himself.]

It feels as if my entire arm is dipped in molten metal.

[So, maybe a bit of an overstatement, but he's never broken bones until he arrived here. He has no frame of reference for the pain other than routine beatings as a child.]

[ her frown turns to an outright grimace. ]

Yeah, that sounds broken. [ which means she definitely can't bite him; if the bone's in the wrong position, it'll just encourage it to heal badly. fuck. ] ...Here—

[ she picks up the ice pack ]

Stick your arm on this. I'm going to... I picked up the ability to heal smaller things by singing? Should take care of the bruising enough we can get a brace on it without it hurting more.

[Wylan does as he's told and sets his injured arm on the ice pack. Any relief would be a relief at this point, so Wylan nods eagerly.]

Please do. Anything would help.

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