paixaorpg | Recovery [active]

Character(s): Braska, Kit Fisto
Content: An empathic alien and a man who keeps things to himself meet... conversation ensues
Setting: Lobby of Actua Are (F3)
Time: Lunch time, after the Sin thread.
Warnings: None

Braska hadn't expected for them to win by any means. They hadn't had a plan and Sin wasn't your average fiend. He hadn't been expecting them to be beaten as badly as they had--with Sin being much smaller than it had on Spira--but it seemed the being could be just as powerful as it was. And then there was the fact that Braska had been without his magic for much of the fight, which had likely only worsened matters. He had to wonder how many injuries could have been spared were he only able to protect them.

He set his journal off to the side, sighing and settling back into the chair. It seemed as though the group had scattered in different directions once the fight had ended, and he himself had chosen this hotel on a whim. He had yet to book a room, but the lobby was nicely furnished and provide a fine spot for recovery.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The group had scattered, but none of them seemed to have gone as far as they could have. Kit had gone by the hotel before, only to find himself drawn back; he followed the draw as the Force suggested, content in following it, and curious as to why---until he stepped into the front foyer and felt a familiar presence.

(weariness hope some sadness worry and that weight)
Oh, him.

The nautolan approached, already smiling easily. "Hello, again." Braska was good company; he could prove himself the same.

Braska looked up, hearing a familiar voice, and smiled. He hadn't expected to be followed by anyone, but company was always welcome. Kit seemed to be a pleasant man, and Braska saw no reason not to entertain him.

The High Summoner stood politely, offering him a short bow (not performing the full bow of the Yevon religion still took getting used to). "Hello. I hope our last encounter didn't leave you too injured. I could heal you now if you need it," he offered.

Kit returned the bow, smiled wider, and dropped into a seat with some relief (reflecting that, at this rate, he'd be replacing his boots before very long). "Oh, no, no---I appreciate the offer, but I'll pass. I'll heal up on my own quickly enough, and until then, the injuries sustained as easily ignored." Bruises and battery for the most part, spiced up with scrapes and scratches; Kit was grateful that that was all he had received, and for the training which had allowed him to escape worse. One tentacle twisted to lie over a shoulder instead of behind, and its owner gestured to a dark blue-grey scab where the sensitive skin had been nicked by sharp shrapnel. "This was the worst of it, after all." [and it didn't look like much.]

Braska nodded. "That is good to hear." He did hope that no one had been injured too heavily in the attack... Hopefully scrapes had been the worst of it? It had been difficult to tell in the flight. All he knew was that they had been lucky. Very, very lucky. Few came out of a fight with Sin and lived to tell the tale.

He sat back down after that, folding his hands in his lap. "Was this hotel the closest you could find?" he asked, attempting to make smalltalk.

Kit nodded in turn, settling back into his seat after a moment's pause (to move his tentacles to the sides where they hung, shifting only slightly of their own accord). "You're well enough, I hope?"

The nautolan waved one hand in the negative, in his own answer. "No, or at least, probably not, but I'll follow the Force while I'm able."

"I'm fine," Braska replied, only half truthfully. He was uninjured, but this whole event was taking such a toll on his nerves. But he could deal with it. There was no need to bring attention to something that would pass with time, was there?

"Oh, it led you here?" he asked curiously. He wondered why and silently hoped it was not he who was the cause.

Recovery [active]

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