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Grian was pretty sure that whatever supernatural beings were out there hated him. Or, they at least had a terrible sense of humor.
Yesterday had gone something like this:
He was chopping down trees, as one does, listening to music because silence is boring and who likes it anyways.Well, it was nice when Scar wasn’t constantly pestering him, but who likes silence?
At any rate: chopping trees, music, gods with bad humor.
The circumstances weren’t actually funny. He swung the axe unfocused, concentrating on the entirely wrong thing, and almost sliced his leg off instead of the tree, barely managing to halt its momentum before he casually amputated himself on a Tuesday afternoon. As it was, the axe still sliced through the thick fabric of his jeans and left a nasty cut on his leg and why did he have to put sharpness on it?
And then. As if to add insult to injury (literally)…
‘Oops, I Did It Again’ by Britney Spears started playing.
So yeah. Terrible sense of humor on behalf of the gods.
He sighed, grabbed his barely-filled shulker box of wood, and flew off.
-+-
ImpulseSV: Hey magic mountain gang! Anyone got plans for today?
GeminiTay: base building
MCSkizzleman: base building
GoodTimeWithScar: base bu8lding
SmallishBeans: base building
ImpulseSV: Grian if you say base building I will-
Grian: base building
ImpulseSV: AARGH
ImpulseSV: maybe mumbo will be my saving grace
Grian: Mumbo you know what to say
MumboJumbo: base building
ImpulseSV: :(
GeminiTay: :D
Grian sighed. In reality, he wasn’t going to get much base building done. His leg, annoyingly, hurt a lot.
He’d put some healing-potion-doused bandages on it the night before, which had helped at the time. The wound was looking better, but this one was on the more serious end, meaning it’d take longer to heal even with medicinal aid.
Today, of all days? The one day that he actually felt like doing something was the one day he just so happened to be badly injured. He said one day but really, it was more often than he’d like to admit. Usually, he was lucky enough for motivation to run out those days, but not today. Truly the gods’ bad sense of humor.
He hobbled over to his desk and sat down, removing a draft from his folder. The base was coming along well, if he did say so himself. He grabbed a pencil from the cup and hummed thoughtfully, tapping it absently on his chin. If a balcony accented that window, then would it look too lopsided? What if he countered with-
A knock on the door. Grian faceplanted on his table, which surprisingly hurt his nose less than his leg. That meant he’d have to get up, limp to the door, and talk to someone, who would inevitably ask about his leg and not let him heal in peace.
He was doing fine, thanks.
So that’s what he did, trying to act as natural as possible to not draw attention to the fact that his leg felt like it was falling off.
“Hey Grian!” It was Pearl. Grian smiled - although it was probably more of a grimace - at her. “Brought ya somethin’.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah. Mind if I come in or are you working on a top-secret project?”
As much as Grian was tempted to answer that he was, he opened the door to let her in.
“How’s base building going? I presume that if you’ve been cooped up in here, the answer’s ‘not very well’.” She said as they walked back to Grian’s desk in the hall. He tried to keep up with his usual pace, but given the situation it was difficult. Was it just him or was Pearl also walking slower? To match his speed?
“It’s not, just… gotta get the ideas flowing. They’re more like dried honey at the moment.” Pearl nodded sympathetically. “Also, I just haven’t really been feeling up to it.” Grian sighed, internally facepalming. It wasn’t that bad, he didn’t want to make Pearl worry for him.
“Aw, why’s that?” She asked, taking hold of a chair. The wooden legs scraped against the floor with an irritating screech.
“Well, erm… I’m not really sure actually.”
She clicked her tongue. “I’m sure one of the many talented healers on this server could help. Are you certain you’re not coming down with something?”
“I don’t feel sick exactly… just off.”
“I think you’re bleeding.”
“What? Where?” Grian mentally checked himself over for any possible pain - it seemed like none aside from the massive agony that was his leg at the moment.
“Your leg. Are you sure you just feel off?” Pearl did that thing where she raised one eyebrow, which tended to be strangely off-putting and make Grian tell the truth when he’d either gotten hurt or stolen something shiny. That was a truth he’d learned as a teen - when Pearl raises her eyebrow you’d better fess up. She rested her arm on the back of her chair, leaning.
“…yes. I’m sure,”
Pearl sighed, though the sound was closer to a groan. “Then you should be okay to prove it right?”
“I mean, what do you want me to do? Go out and build my base? I’m working on blueprints.”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t want you working with an injury like that.”
“An injury like-“ he laughed nervously. “What are you…”
“‘Ight, this isn’t gonna happen by itself. Gimme your leg.” However, she didn’t wait for an answer before taking his leg by the ankle and hoisting it so it was resting in her lap. Grian hissed in pain.
“Watch it-“
“Goddamnit Grian, let people know when you need help, will ya? Where do you keep your med stuff this season?”
Grian shrugged. “Wherever I feel like it. Should be in the bedroom area, though. Oh, I might have put it in that nook by the enchanting room. Or in the bathroom cabinet? Perhaps I simply don’t have anything.”
Pearl rolled her eyes. “May as well run and get some from the shop. Don’t do anything.” Pearl shifted his leg so she could get up, heading out the door. Grian moved his work around so he could continue sketching.
The peace wouldn’t last long.
“Okay, I’m back!” She sang, striding through the door with a bundle of what sounded like glass bottles. The bag made a lovely clinking noise when she set it on the table that awoke some bird instinct.
“That does not look okay.” She unraveled his hasty bandage from the morning. “This might hurt, just warning you,” Pearl cautioned, taking out cotton pads and pouring some sort of ointment on it as well as the healing potion. She was right- it did sting like an angry wasp.
Swiftly, she bandaged his leg, and the pressure did make it feel a little better, as did the ointment after the pain faded.
“Thanks,” he admitted, “it does feel better.”
“Now, I’m no expert, but the ones who are will definitely be down to help should you need it. They’re only a quick message away.” She gestured to his communicator lying on the table, reaching over to pat him on the head. He huffed, but gave her a small smile. Sometimes it was nice being treated as the little sibling.
“Thanks so much Pearl.”
“It’s literally not a problem. That is, when I don’t have to go digging around to find out what the matter is. Don’t take my generosity for granted though, you’re still taking the five steps to the trash can.” She gestured to his old bandages, in response to which he promptly faceplanted on his table again.