Old Town Sunny side up, extra crispy

[Mathus Dascălu]

Mathus smiled at Brooke's comment as he pulled out a pad of sterilized gauze and soaked it with the foul antiseptic. The melodrama was, unfortunately, lost on him--he was not quick when it came to sarcasm or irony in English.

As he took her hand in his and gently pressed the pad to the picked away spot, he said in earnest, “I hope so. If not, I may be able to recommend you to another healer--she does excellent work.” He gently dabbed around the tortured skin of her hand, mildly pleased at the way she wasn't flinching away. “Though, I'm sure your Exchange has a wider network than me.”

[Brooke Hansen]

“Oh, no. I’ll be fine.” Brooke all but promised as she watched the doctor tend to her wounds with detached fascination. “You don’t gotta worry about me, doc.”

Seeing it all and feeling so little reminded her of brain surgeons putting conscious patients under the knife. Hopefully, she’d still be able to move her fingers when this was all said and done. His work on Livvy had shown the quality of his bedside manner, but experiencing it herself all but solidified it in her mind. Brooke smiled as he worked.

“Thank you, by the way. For all this.” Brooke murmured and jerked her head toward the living room, meaning Livvy. The motion tugged at her hand.

[Algy Trevelyan]

Algy gave Livvy a pat on the shoulder, smiling as he nodded. “I'll fetch a glass for you, then.” Straightening up as he spoke, Algy retraced his steps back to the kitchen. Once again, Livvy was left to her own devices in the living room as he joined the other two.

“Just fetching water for Livvy,” he informed them, throwing a crooked smile at the pair. “How are we healing up?” he asked, observing the doctor busy at work. As he engaged in polite chit-chat, he opened a cupboard in search of glasses, lucky enough to find one in the first spot he searched. He then turned the tap on, letting it run on cold to cool down.

[Lavender Wise]

Algy had a nice face and listening to his voice was relaxing. It helped that he was calm, or at least able to present himself as such. It made her feel even more comfortable than she already did.

The decor in the living room was not stark or modern. It had personality and interesting pieces. This was someone's home, not a doctor's office or a clinic or an architectural statement to modern living. It was nice.

Livvy carefully reached up to the back of the couch and pulled one of the blankets down. She didn't feel cold, but soft blankets always made her feel better when she was sick. Injured qualified, too.

She listened to the voices in the kitchen, but couldn't focus on what they were saying. She was glad to hear Brooke's voice as well as those of the two men. The young woman had fought bravely and been quite battered, or so Livvy thought. The same with Algy, though he seemed less affected by the experience. It amazed Livvy that the three of them were still alive, considering the circumstances of the attack. That she personally seemed mostly healed from serious burns was incredible.

“Thank you, Lord, for all your blessings,” she said, clearly but quietly.

[Mathus Dascălu]

Mathus' grip tightened slightly to keep Brooke's hand still, and he just shook his head to her thanks, smiling while he kept his eyes on his work. “I like the chance to do what I can,” he assured her warmly, his voice low between them. These days, he thought people, families, and other groups were all too atomized, isolated from each other in little nuclear bubbles. It was hard to find people willing to come together into a community anymore. Not even his direct neighbors liked to chat for too long. Volunteering his services helped Mathus stay a part of the supernatural community in Easthaven, and he relished it, even if it was thankless.

This was, fortunately, not one of those moments, even if some kind of crisis brought these three to his door.

He looked up when Algy came in, nodding and about to point him toward the cabinet with the glasses when he said what he needed. He found them without direction, though, and Mathus chuckled. Algy was an interesting fellow, making himself right at home. Mathus didn't mind that.

At his next question, Mathus glanced up at Brooke, and smiled as he reported, “It is not as bad as it looks. Though, I imagine Miss Brooke will need a new hair style.”

[Brooke Hansen]

Algy returned to the kitchen and Brooke eyed him as he went about his business. The doctor chuckled as Algy found a glass and the other man let the water run cold before filling the glass. At his question, Brooke thought to answer, reiterating that she was fine, or would be fine, but the doctor’s smile stilled her rebuttal. His reply, however, conjured in her the first sense of self-worry since the encounter.

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t seen herself in a mirror. How bad did she look? A hand, the one the doctor wasn’t working on, reached up to her hair. Simultaneously, she asked, “What?” in a rising tone. Pleading eyes shot between Mathus and Algy. Numbed as she was, dead fingers ran through unkempt heat-cropped hair. It was a meaningless gesture born of muscle memory as her burnt hand felt nothing.

“Noo…” She mewed, turning petulant. “Is it that bad?” Brooke looked between the two men, settling on Algy, fearing the worse.

[Algy Trevelyan]

Algy had not been concerned with unfortunate aesthetic accidents in the wake of the fight, more the physical ailments that had to be treated, but she had looked alarming. The Welshman would not tell the woman that, of course, even if the doctor had already made reference to it. She was despairing enough as it is, it wouldn't do to make it worse.

The dragon settled for a small smile, reassuring as he offered his next words, one hand tucking into his pocket as the other held the glass of water for Livvy. “A visit to a hairdresser and you'll be as good as new,” he reassured, emphasising that it wasn't a lost cause. “An unwilling style change, perhaps, but I'm sure you'll suit it.”