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[glenamored]

Fragging cog-piss!!

[ It's the morning of the 14th of December and the tablet is currently flying across a bedroom and Glen is screaming obscenities. The video shows a whole lot of nothing swirling around until it hits something metallic with a CLACK! Finally, it stops when it hits the floor face up. Above it is a bird cage. Old, dead-looking feathers fall through the slits of the cage toward the tablet on the floor and Glen appears above the tablet, chest heaving, eyes wide and totally freaked out.

She's holding her weapon, a dagger with a celtic knot design on the hilt, and apparently staring down the bird inside the cage. ]

You little cog-rotten bastard, what in all the mucking hells happened to you? [ There's a flapping of wings and an unholy squawking sound in reply. ]

Damn it... [ Glen takes a deep breath, cringing all the while. She's got to do this quickly. Biting her lip hard enough for it to bleed, she opens the door of the cage and screams a battle cry, grabbing the undead bird, her annoying, stupid, now dead little almost-friend, and cuts the thing's head off in one swift motion.

The lifeless bird head falls right on the tablet. She looks down, following the head's movement as it falls, nursing a finger the creature had managed to bite before she'd removed its head.

There's silence for a few seconds. ] ...It turned on. Okay. It turned on.

[ Still breathing heavily, uninjured hand shaking a little, Glen reaches down and picks up the tablet with it. ] Hello. Sorry about that, if you're watching. I don't usually kill living, rotting animals in my spare time. But... hey, it works as a warning, right? I think the animals from the other day might be sick. Terminally sick. At least, mine was. So... watch out? Watch out.

Comments

[bloodspeaker]

[Poor Glen! Adrasteius isn't terribly proficient with his tact. Still, he's quiet throughout her reply, at least up until she mentions her apartment number--and then he's on the move. It takes him a little time to reach her, as he's coming from the clinic, but the wonders of short-range teleportation mean that he's outside her door in about eight minutes. And knocking. Loudly.]

Your guest is here to fix you.

[glenamored]

Lucky me. [ She really hopes she's doing the right thing, here. She opens the door, looking unamused and a little worse for wear and stress and possibly the infection, though it hasn't been that long. The dead bird is still burning. On the stove. Just in case. It makes the whole room smell horrible, and she coughs before stepping aside to let him in, extending her injured finger in the process. ]

Here it is. By all means, do whatever you have to do to fix it, assuming it's within reason. I can't imagine there are many things worse than turning into one of those things, but if there are, I want no part in it and you can go back right now.

[bloodspeaker]

[She opens the door to a small, thin elf-man, who strides in as soon as he's able and takes hold of the offered hand. He doesn't seem bothered by the putrid smell--his expression is more one of recognition than disgust.]

This won't hurt a bit.

[He's not being sarcastic. Holding her injured hand carefully, he traces the veins of her palm with his slim fingers, gently and delicately. A trail of pure, golden light follows where he touches, and this light sinks into Glen's skin, leaving behind a feeling of warmth and well-being. He murmurs something as he casts his spell, and then he presses his index finger to her injury directly. More shimmering light, and then the wound heals.]

[glenamored]

[ Through all this, Glen stares on warily, at least until the light comes out of nowhere and and the warmth takes her by surprise. By that point, she's staring at the man in front of her, eyes a little wide. ]

Whoa. How did you do that? It's... gone. Gone completely. [ She curls up her finger, then extends it again. ] I'm not sure, but that was probably more impressive than my bird coming back from the dead. Um. Thanks.

[bloodspeaker]

[he lets go of her hand and shrugs.]

The Light provides. I am merely its servant. [Now that the danger is past, he goes on.] The plague of undeath is something from my world. I knew it immediately, from the state of your bird. It is a highly contagious disease. If you had let it linger, you would have suffered the same fate as that poor animal. Or worse.

[glenamored]

From your world? [ No comment about being the servant of the Light. That horseshit sounds bonkers. ] I thought this might be the United Earth. You're sure?

[ She pauses for a second. Reconsiders. ] No, never mind. Of course you're sure, you just magically light-healed me, what was I thinking.