Threads for Red can be started here. Add an approximate date and what it is (voice, action, etc no that's not an option) in the subject heading, and I will get back to it as soon as possible.
[In the afternoon, Jean stops by at the clinic to make an inquiry about cold remedies. It had started with a scratchy throat the day before, and when he woke up this morning his nose was like a leaky faucet. He finds himself grateful for whoever came up with the idea of disposable handkerchiefs in a pocket-sized packet, but there has to be a way to clear his head faster.
As he waits for an available doctor, he notices Red all bandaged up in the bed that's housed in one of the adjacent rooms. He doesn't recognize him as the boy who he'd helped to dig a grave in Zompania. The protective suits they'd all worn had obscured the features of faces and the shapes of bodies enough that, out of the suit, and out of that hellhole, there's little for his memory to latch onto when he looks through the doorway at the boy. Not yet.
His voice is thick with mucus when he speaks.]
Hey...what happened to you? [This is part idle curiosity, and part knowledge that it sucks to be cooped up by yourself when you're sick or injured. His company ain't much, but it's something at least.]
[ It's not the most comfortable way to be in the clinic. With one of his wings still largely tender after getting broken during his run-in with Giovanni, sitting up is still a pain not really worth the effort. Getting on his side is the most he can do (now, anyway) as long as he's careful not to knock it, which after having done that and coming close to tears that no one will getto know about other than Pikachu, Red's being very careful about.
It makes it easy at least for him to see the people that pass by the door, and so his eyes - being awake when Jean wanders in - settle on the person rather quickly, though he doesn't expect conversation to start. The voice isn't familiar in his ears, though he can guess the sound of someone being sick.
But what happened to him? ]
Fell down a hole... [ It may stupid, but it's simple enough than going into details the guy likely doesn't care that much for.
But let him take a guess about that heavy voice and the rather red nose the guy is sporting. ] Are you sick?
[He lingers in the doorway, reluctant to risk spreading his cold, especially to someone already down for the count. In response to the question, he sniffles to stop the snot that's threatening to dribble from his nose.]
What's it sound like? [And he coughs into the crook of his arm.]
That's some crappy luck, though. That happen out in the woods? [He'd skipped his daily ride with his horse, not feeling up to the jolting motions and the cooling autumn wind whipping his face, but he hadn't seen anything like that in the days leading up to his illness either.]
No; in the mountains. [ There's a small pause, and then, ] And it sounds like you've got the crappier luck. Colds suck.
[ He might as well have some humour about this - it's not like he can go outside and find some. Carefully, he shifts his shoulder against, his arms moving along with them but his hands keeping cupped together near to his chest. ]
They suck, but I'll take this cold over a broken wing any day.
[It hurts enough when he jostles his wings against anything by accident; he doesn't want to think about what it feels like when one snaps. He remembers too sharply how it sounds when wings snap apart in the wake of his blades, the way feathers and blood fly, and he looks a little paler in the face as he presses his lips together in a tight line and takes himself back to this room.]
Yeah? What's the trick?
[He's starting to feel that he recognizes this kid from somewhere, but he can't place the memory.]
[ It's not the man's words that say it most, but the look on his face for that moment that tells Red instead that maybe it hadn't been an very effective joke he made. Must a straight-forward no-jokey kind of guy. ]
Magic. [ He tilts his head against his pillow. ] It doesn't get rid of the cold, but it makes it better. I've never got to see if it works yet.
[It's not that he isn't one for jokes, but it's a matter of timing, and the way one thought gives way to another. His expression relaxes a notch or two (he has the small misfortune of a face that's arranged in almost perpetual sharpness) as he mulls over the potential of magic.]
You think that'd help? I've been learning how to use healing magic-- [He coughs again.] Maybe if I directed it over my chest...or my nose...
Yeah... [And he's been looking for chances to practice with it more.]
Lemme give it a try. [He closes his eyes, not allowing himself to feel awkward with the kid watching him as he pulls his focus together and starts to feel for Nala's presence.]
[His eyebrows twitch downward as his nose drips, but he tries to stay focused on breathing in and breathing out as he draws out Nala's energy, feeling it tingling faintly in his fingers. When he's ready, he raises his hand to his face, pressing his fingertips against the bridge of his nose. After a moment, he moves slowly down to his throat and chest, trying to maintain the flow of energy.
When he lowers his hand and the magic fades, he finds that he can breathe through both nostrils for the first time since he woke up this morning.]
[ Grosssss, okay, Red wasn't keeping that close of a watch of him. And he doesn't watch the guy entirely, taking the pokéball in his hand and placing it over onto the bedside table to sit than instead of close to his chest - just in case.
But he smiles when he hears the success. ] Yeah? [ ...erm. ] You don't want to get rid of your tissues yet though.
[ Anyway. ] Want me to try some on you too? I don't use Nala.
[He wasn't going to get his hopes up that his fix would be a permanent one; at least if the symptoms come back, he'll get more chances to practice with Nala. It's what he had been looking for, although he hadn't necessarily anticipated being his own patient.]
What kind of tricks do you know, then? [He eyes the pokeball the kid had been playing with, recognizing the distinct red and white design, still prickled by the sense of familiarity with this kid.]
Like I said, it's a magic. [ He places the hand of his upper arm down onto the bed to help support him - slowly, carefully - shift up with a grunt, just enough to rest some on his other elbow and not have his head entirely on the pillow. ]
[He was already reaching into his jacket pocket to fish out a folded up, half-used tissue (he's like an old lady who thinks conserving these things is important) and wipe away the snot mucking up his face.
When he sees Red shifting to get up, he takes a cautionary step forward, a knee-jerk reaction.]
Hey-- Careful! [But the kid seems to be doing alright, so he drops the tension in his stance.]
Alright, are you gonna let me see it? [He's moving closer to the bed, aiming for the obligatory chair that squats by the bedside.]
[ He's had visitors, particularly a constant one that was the obligatory fussy mother type, and he won't stop him. ]
Uh huh, as soon as you sit. [ And while the guy's getting around to that- ] It's a magic where you make motions with your hands and think about the spell you wanna do. It's pretty cool. Plus the shift monsters won't find you if you use it.
[When he had set out to learn magic, and started thinking about the possibilities it wielded on the battlefield, he had almost forgotten about the Shift Hunters. Almost. But in all honesty, he would almost gladly draw those beasts to him if it meant not having to stare down the blades of enemies who look like him. Sharp teeth and powerful muscles terrify him, the coward that he is, but he can handle them. He was trained to slice open thick necks.
It's much easier to do.
As he sits, he looks to Red with expectant curiosity.]
[ He nods, and following that raises out his arm to face his palm towards Jean, eyes fixated forward on his. The last time he'd tried healing another was in the underground, low on energy and concentration (but not on pain), and for that Red wonders for a second if it'll work. But it's a small delay, more of a prompt to relax and not to worry. Inhale, exhale - focus, as Karis has taught him.
The motion he makes is precise but comes easily enough through how often the spell has been practised, wrist twisting and fingers twitching as they need, and he thinks what it is that he wants to do.
It may not be unlike the sensation of Nala's own healing touch, but it's not exact, cast by a different energy, a different source. There's no more odd movements to his hands; he just slowly lets it drift from Jean's face and downward, over the same areas that the man had treated himself. There's no rush, with Red returning back up to the head once more in an attempt to make sure he's given as much as he can. Then, finally, the sensation from his hand fades, and he sits it back down onto the bed with a breath through his nose.
...but if that actually did anything, Red is less than sure. He tucks the hand against him, shifting slightly, his watch on Jean more relaxed. ]
[He watches the crafted movement of Red's hands carefully, and while he himself had sought to arm himself with magic, something that should logically only exist in stories, there remains some part of him that finds the whole concept of it preposterous. But it is what it is. The warmth burrowing into his skin, familiar but different, isn't imagined.
When Red asks, he takes a moment to consider the air pushing in and out of his lungs, his mouth, his nostrils. He thinks he might cough, but it smooths out deep in his throat.]
I feel like I can breathe a little easier. [He leans back in the chair, mindful of his wings.] Thanks...for that.
[ His laughter is short and small, ultimately pleasant at the positive results, giving away at the same time his youthful age in its sound. He rests his head back onto the wall, too far up to reach the pillow. ] No problem.
[ And there was no concerning side effects to it either, no pangs in his head or an exhaustion soon after in his body like when he had been sitting around practising from Karis's books, just to do something to past the time. Well, he had been in there long enough (if you asked him, anyway). ]
I train every day with my pokémon so I practice with it whenever I can. [ He takes his gaze over the bed. ] It's too bad I can't just fix up my foot and wing with it and get out of here.
[He grins a little in return, not all straight edges like Red might have thought.]
Dunno if I can help you out with Nala's magic either...I've been sticking to small stuff so far.
[His eyes drift back to the pokeball sitting atop the bedside table. He knows what sorts of unbelievable feats pokemon are capable of, but he didn't think people from that world could produce magic too.]
The magic? My friend, Karis. It's from her world. [ Or universe. ] She's been teaching me it for months. We were learning fire spells before I ended up here too -- there's all sorts you can do with it.
You probably could with filial magic too. Are you going to try contacting any of the other spirits later on?
[ If he was sticking to small stuff, then he didn't sound like he might be in a rush to put more on his plate. ]
[He wonders what enables someone to learn magic that's native to a world they've never even set foot in. It's all too nebulous to wrap his mind around.]
I've thought about it, yeah. [But he wants to nail down the basics with Nala before he tries to take on more.] I think there are ways it could boost me in combat, if I can master it.
Someone I talked to was trying to learn from Tsinku, but they were being a lot of trouble. But they knew the wind one, so maybe they're easier to get along with. Maybe the earth one too?
[ It'd been a while since he'd heard their names - why he even remembered Tsinku's name is odd enough. There's a short pause before he speaks back up. ]
Well, I'm a soldier... The main weapon I was trained in is called 3D-- Uh, three dimensional maneuver gear. It's... [He scratches at the back of his head. A little tricky to explain.] It lets you move in any direction you want to in the air, kind of like you're flying, and you've got these blades to fight with. [He encloses his fists around imaginary handles to demonstrate.]
I figure if I can learn magic from Kipinn - that's the wind spirit - I won't have to rely on gas as much.
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[September 26th - action]
As he waits for an available doctor, he notices Red all bandaged up in the bed that's housed in one of the adjacent rooms. He doesn't recognize him as the boy who he'd helped to dig a grave in Zompania. The protective suits they'd all worn had obscured the features of faces and the shapes of bodies enough that, out of the suit, and out of that hellhole, there's little for his memory to latch onto when he looks through the doorway at the boy. Not yet.
His voice is thick with mucus when he speaks.]
Hey...what happened to you? [This is part idle curiosity, and part knowledge that it sucks to be cooped up by yourself when you're sick or injured. His company ain't much, but it's something at least.]
[September 26th - action]
It makes it easy at least for him to see the people that pass by the door, and so his eyes - being awake when Jean wanders in - settle on the person rather quickly, though he doesn't expect conversation to start. The voice isn't familiar in his ears, though he can guess the sound of someone being sick.
But what happened to him? ]
Fell down a hole... [ It may stupid, but it's simple enough than going into details the guy likely doesn't care that much for.
But let him take a guess about that heavy voice and the rather red nose the guy is sporting. ] Are you sick?
[September 26th - action]
What's it sound like? [And he coughs into the crook of his arm.]
That's some crappy luck, though. That happen out in the woods? [He'd skipped his daily ride with his horse, not feeling up to the jolting motions and the cooling autumn wind whipping his face, but he hadn't seen anything like that in the days leading up to his illness either.]
[September 26th - action]
[ He might as well have some humour about this - it's not like he can go outside and find some. Carefully, he shifts his shoulder against, his arms moving along with them but his hands keeping cupped together near to his chest. ]
Wanna try something? I learnt a trick for colds.
[September 26th - action]
[It hurts enough when he jostles his wings against anything by accident; he doesn't want to think about what it feels like when one snaps. He remembers too sharply how it sounds when wings snap apart in the wake of his blades, the way feathers and blood fly, and he looks a little paler in the face as he presses his lips together in a tight line and takes himself back to this room.]
Yeah? What's the trick?
[He's starting to feel that he recognizes this kid from somewhere, but he can't place the memory.]
[September 26th - action]
Magic. [ He tilts his head against his pillow. ] It doesn't get rid of the cold, but it makes it better. I've never got to see if it works yet.
[September 26th - action]
You think that'd help? I've been learning how to use healing magic-- [He coughs again.] Maybe if I directed it over my chest...or my nose...
[September 26th - action]
[September 26th - action]
Lemme give it a try. [He closes his eyes, not allowing himself to feel awkward with the kid watching him as he pulls his focus together and starts to feel for Nala's presence.]
[September 26th - action]
But Red stays silent, letting the guy give the filial magic a go. Hopefully the urge to sniffle or cough won't throw him off. ]
[September 26th - action]
When he lowers his hand and the magic fades, he finds that he can breathe through both nostrils for the first time since he woke up this morning.]
Hey, it worked a little bit...
[September 26th - action]
But he smiles when he hears the success. ] Yeah? [ ...erm. ] You don't want to get rid of your tissues yet though.
[ Anyway. ] Want me to try some on you too? I don't use Nala.
[September 26th - action]
What kind of tricks do you know, then? [He eyes the pokeball the kid had been playing with, recognizing the distinct red and white design, still prickled by the sense of familiarity with this kid.]
[September 26th - action]
Like I said, it's a magic. [ He places the hand of his upper arm down onto the bed to help support him - slowly, carefully - shift up with a grunt, just enough to rest some on his other elbow and not have his head entirely on the pillow. ]
But it's supposed to help with colds.
[September 26th - action]
When he sees Red shifting to get up, he takes a cautionary step forward, a knee-jerk reaction.]
Hey-- Careful! [But the kid seems to be doing alright, so he drops the tension in his stance.]
Alright, are you gonna let me see it? [He's moving closer to the bed, aiming for the obligatory chair that squats by the bedside.]
[September 26th - action]
Uh huh, as soon as you sit. [ And while the guy's getting around to that- ] It's a magic where you make motions with your hands and think about the spell you wanna do. It's pretty cool. Plus the shift monsters won't find you if you use it.
[ Unlike the filial magic. Sorry, Nala. ]
[September 26th - action]
It's much easier to do.
As he sits, he looks to Red with expectant curiosity.]
Go for it.
[September 26th - action]
The motion he makes is precise but comes easily enough through how often the spell has been practised, wrist twisting and fingers twitching as they need, and he thinks what it is that he wants to do.
It may not be unlike the sensation of Nala's own healing touch, but it's not exact, cast by a different energy, a different source. There's no more odd movements to his hands; he just slowly lets it drift from Jean's face and downward, over the same areas that the man had treated himself. There's no rush, with Red returning back up to the head once more in an attempt to make sure he's given as much as he can. Then, finally, the sensation from his hand fades, and he sits it back down onto the bed with a breath through his nose.
...but if that actually did anything, Red is less than sure. He tucks the hand against him, shifting slightly, his watch on Jean more relaxed. ]
Did it work?
[September 26th - action]
When Red asks, he takes a moment to consider the air pushing in and out of his lungs, his mouth, his nostrils. He thinks he might cough, but it smooths out deep in his throat.]
I feel like I can breathe a little easier. [He leans back in the chair, mindful of his wings.] Thanks...for that.
[September 26th - action]
[ And there was no concerning side effects to it either, no pangs in his head or an exhaustion soon after in his body like when he had been sitting around practising from Karis's books, just to do something to past the time. Well, he had been in there long enough (if you asked him, anyway). ]
I train every day with my pokémon so I practice with it whenever I can. [ He takes his gaze over the bed. ] It's too bad I can't just fix up my foot and wing with it and get out of here.
[September 26th - action]
Dunno if I can help you out with Nala's magic either...I've been sticking to small stuff so far.
[His eyes drift back to the pokeball sitting atop the bedside table. He knows what sorts of unbelievable feats pokemon are capable of, but he didn't think people from that world could produce magic too.]
Where'd you learn how to do that, anyway?
[September 26th - action]
You probably could with filial magic too. Are you going to try contacting any of the other spirits later on?
[ If he was sticking to small stuff, then he didn't sound like he might be in a rush to put more on his plate. ]
[September 26th - action]
I've thought about it, yeah. [But he wants to nail down the basics with Nala before he tries to take on more.] I think there are ways it could boost me in combat, if I can master it.
[September 26th - action]
[ It'd been a while since he'd heard their names - why he even remembered Tsinku's name is odd enough. There's a short pause before he speaks back up. ]
What kind of fighter are you?
[September 26th - action]
I figure if I can learn magic from Kipinn - that's the wind spirit - I won't have to rely on gas as much.
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