open ♔ so many hearts in great demand

[sirsolace]

♬ November - Azure Ray

WHO || Solace, Christos, Francesca's dead body... and you??? [open open open]
WHAT || Solace has started the process of resurrection: and now it's a waiting game
WHERE || Knights' HQ: the medical wing
WHEN || Sunday, Mar 8 - Tuesday, March 10
HOW || Prose or actionspam, you pick.

Christos apparently made a scene upon the Knights' return, demanding that Solace himself be the one to perform the resurrection spell on Francesca - and then refusing to leave while it happened, despite the cleric's annoyed protestations. La Krail seems to have won out in the end, because he hasn't really left the room since.

Not all bodies are strong enough to survive a resurrection, and until a dead body had been fully healed, the soul would simply not return to it, considering it an inanimate object as fit for inhabiting as an empty Mountain Dew can. It was a painful process, waiting for a dead body to slowly restore itself, and not knowing what the end result would be.

It's common practice for the medical wing to be left open to those who wish to visit the deceased, so for those who want to, they can come by to pay their respects, or offer some prayers or positive energy, in hopes that Francesca will recover.

Comments

[everyredcent]

Christos' eyes follow Alainn's every tiny movement when she walks in the door, riveting onto her and not breaking off for a second. He looks over the supplies she carries, and a deep crease appears in his forehead. While he doesn't budge from his seat in a chair against the wall, he radiates an entire aura of GTFO.

So it's no surprise just how bristly his tone is when he speaks.

"What do you think you're doing." It's spoken flatly, hardly a question, and more an accusation.

[attollores]

"Cleaning her up. I doubt she would want to come back and be a mess." Her voice is even, unchallengeing and unassuming. He can bristle all he wants, she doesn't mind.

She sets the rest of her supplies down, then sits on the opposite side of the bed from Christos, wetting a towel, applying soap and gently wiping at Francesca's face with slow, even strokes. She makes no move to stop, or make any further conversation, though she is acutely aware of Christos and the death glare he has fixed on her.

[everyredcent]

Welp, she's about to mind. Because he stands up abruptly and his hand shoots out to grab her wrist. And he glares her down angrily.

"The clerics will do that."

[attollores]

She looks up as soon as he touches her, eyes honing in on the hand clamped around her wrist. They travel up to his quickly, slightly narrowed but holding no anger. After a moment she twists her wrist away from his fingers, placing the cloth back in the bowl and straightening away from the bed. She certainly isn't going to argue, and she really doesn't want to piss him off even more.

"That's fine. I bought her some new clothes that would be comfortable, in case they want to use them."

She leaves the supplies she had brought on the table, only taking the basin and towel out with her. It was time to call Thomas and get their drink on.