Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 1:27:32 GMT
Immortals
it might be my wound
BUT THEY'RE your SUTURES
Rabastan had taken care to keep all his research on point last night. He had been unable to sleep. His mind had just been spinning way too fast for rest. He could have medicated--taken a calming drought and perhaps dosed on dreamless sleep. But he didn't want to. He wanted to chase after answers. Andromeda had given him hope. She had healed him. And he wanted to give her something. He wanted to have some information, some shred of an answer to give back to her. He had a little bit of information, but just like his approach to necromancy.
He wanted to read less and experiment more. Other people's experiments and commentaries could only be trusted so far. They weren't as meticulous as Rabastan. They weren't as detailed in observations as he was. He had pages written now detailing his experience when Andromeda had healed him. The sensations had been described. The depth and severity of the wound had been documented. Everything he could remember he had written down...and then, he had Ori pull the memory from his mind. He had watched it multiple times. There was little to visibly observe, though. Though he had been able to use the memory to get a very detailed measurement and description of the cut he'd sliced into his skin.
He wanted more data. More experiences to study. And he wanted to push Andromeda further. Yes, they had only just discovered this ability, this gift. And while he marveled in it--and was given so much renewed hope by its very existence. He was by his very nature a curious mind. He could not simply marvel at the magic. He wanted to understand it. He wanted to help Andromeda strengthen it. He wanted to facilitate her mastery of what she had been given--and push her to the very limits of what was possible with her gift.
The logical next step was her attempting to heal a magical damage. Physical injuries were simpler in nature than those brought on by magic. Diseases were more complex than physical injuries, as well--but the only long term medical problems that Rabastan suffered from were of the mental variety. Those he had well managed now with potions and therapy, but in time, as Andromeda grew her understanding of her skills, perhaps they could discuss her trying to heal those--trying to fix the chemistry of his brain and his body's production of neurotransmitters. That was not easily confirmed, though. Perhaps they could bring in some muggle subjects with cancer and the like... Test her healing of those diseases-
It would have be so much easier if the subjects could easily be obliviated. He really was vexed by the absence of his magic. It was always an annoyance. He was trying very hard not to even begin to entertain the possibility that Andromeda might be able to heal his magical impotence. He couldn't let himself think that. He couldn't let himself hope that. It was too early. There was too much they didn't know--about the epidemic and about her abilities.
So, they would take the next step in learning about what she could do. They needed to see where the boundaries lay. She asked him if he was sure about subjecting himself to this trial, and he nodded. "Of course. It will be fine."
He really did not mind to be the guinea pig. In truth, he was glad for it. He was greedy for the first hand knowledge and experience. He wanted to be the one to explore this with her. Of course, he wanted to be the one to do everything with her.
Andromeda was concerned for him. He could see the worry in her eyes. The glint in the warm chocolate depths of those captivating irises promised that she cared. It meant the world to him. He was a man starved for such things--and he had come to matter to her. He gave her an encouraging smile. A little nod of his head came with an affirmative answer. "I do promise. If I have to go to the hospital, it will easily explained. Just an accident mishandling of an object. I was careless. They can set me right in no time--It won't be anything of note. But it won't come to that anyway, because you are going to be able to do it. I have full faith in you." He wasn't going to bring a cursed object around the boys, but they could find an opportunity to slip off alone. Perhaps Faye could feed the little ones breakfast--or worst case, they could wait for nap time. That was still quite awhile away since it was still rather early in the morning. He could be as patient as he needed to be, though... and spending time with the little ones was always a joy. He could push the curiosity to the back of his mind for awhile if he needed to and play with them. It was important to him to always show them kindness and care--no matter what else was going on or what might be on his mind. They deserved that. They were more important than anything else--no matter how fascinating it might be.
@ mender • 868 • outfit
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