exsilium | 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.

Threaded | Flat

Prince of what?

[ eyebrow raise. ]

Unless it's Prince of the Toxic Sludgepits and Nuclear Wastelands, I don't think that title is gonna carry much weight around here.

There's nothing wrong with asking nicely, instead of demanding.

[He's listening and watching poor Wrathion intently though, a thoughtful expression on his face.]

Can't you cure that yourself? There must be a spell for it.

[ and if he doesn't know it, she's prepared to look so damn smug. she's already on the verge. ]

Edited 2013-07-28 01:30 (UTC)

There's a few people here that use magic to help...do you know any of them? I bet they'd be able to fix you up faster than medicine would.

[ Feferi knows over-exaggerating royalty when she sees it, but she does still feel bad, based purely on the assumption that it's more bravado than anything else. ]

Can you tell me if you are feeling warm or cold?

Did you... tell anyone you needed medicine before now?

And a prince is incapable of moving himself?

[Seriously, you have a congestion, he rode out of a bombing with a gunshot wound and helped citizens to safety.

No excuses.]

A prince who cannot aid himself? How would you expect a country to follow you?

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