Wrathion; the Black Prince (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
indirection) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsilium2013-07-27 07:37 pm
indirection) wrote in exsilium2013-07-27 07:37 pm
two; video
[Wrathion doesn't know how this happened. He had escaped the recent pandemic with barely a sniffle, which was no surprise to him--he was a dragon, after all; superior in fortitude and resistance, divinely crafted, nearly invincible. Yes, Exsilium was a sickly place, and yes, he did sometimes feel that rot trying to seep into him. Black dragons were creatures of earth: rock and soil and wood and the hot, molten depths that burned in the center of the planet. He is not directly connected to the health of this world, not as he was to Azeroth, but he keenly feels its plague all the same. Still, he should have been immune to it.
And yet.
Here he was, just days after returning from the beach, stuck with frustrated helplessness in his bed. He's sneezing, he's coughing, his head feels like somebody bashed it in and then replaced his brain with dust and cotton. And he's hot--uncomfortably, unnaturally hot.
Groaning, he scowls into his tablet. For once, Wrathion is just not in the mood for his usual front.]
What does a man have to do to get some medicine around here? I'm a prince, you know! I shouldn't have to go around begging for everything I need.
[He coughs violently--and maybe with a little more exaggeration than necessary--and his red eyes flare. He clears his throat and speaks through gritted teeth.]
What I mean to say is that I would be most grateful if one of you could make yourselves useful and bring me something for these terrible, horrible aches. And the congestion. And this truly awful cough!
[He goes in for another dramatic round of heaving.]
--and be quick about it. I'm really not used to wait-- [coughs] -- I mean, I'm in dire shape, here.
Thank you.
And yet.
Here he was, just days after returning from the beach, stuck with frustrated helplessness in his bed. He's sneezing, he's coughing, his head feels like somebody bashed it in and then replaced his brain with dust and cotton. And he's hot--uncomfortably, unnaturally hot.
Groaning, he scowls into his tablet. For once, Wrathion is just not in the mood for his usual front.]
What does a man have to do to get some medicine around here? I'm a prince, you know! I shouldn't have to go around begging for everything I need.
[He coughs violently--and maybe with a little more exaggeration than necessary--and his red eyes flare. He clears his throat and speaks through gritted teeth.]
What I mean to say is that I would be most grateful if one of you could make yourselves useful and bring me something for these terrible, horrible aches. And the congestion. And this truly awful cough!
[He goes in for another dramatic round of heaving.]
--and be quick about it. I'm really not used to wait-- [coughs] -- I mean, I'm in dire shape, here.
Thank you.
no subject
Yes, make haste. You're a priest, aren't you? Wave your fingers over me or something. I'm dying.
no subject
[Brow arching. Settling back in his chair.]
I'd appreciate a little more courtesy than that.
no subject
[He frowns into the video feed. That movement there looks very unhurried. Very clear lack of urgency.]
I suppose this is the thanks I get for protecting you ...
[cough.]
no subject
[His expression softens a little at the cough as he rises, drawing the tablet with him. He won't come when he's bid - not like that. But he will come when needed.]
Have you been able to keep anything down?
[The tablet is set down for a moment as he rifles through something, still close enough to listen, and perhaps glance down and over thoughtfully.]
no subject
[Ages meaning 'the last four hours, tops'. His stomach is perfectly fine, really, but he's not going to admit that. Not if he can milk any sympathy out of it being otherwise, at least.]
no subject
no subject
I'll do my best.
[cough.]