RP:Full Metal Feathers (Pt 2)
Summary: Irenic responds to a summons from Alvina and pays her handsomely for his sparkly new wings. Some jokes, some flirting, some pain and a lot of hard work just to fly again.
Frostmaw Towers
This multiple story building complex is visible from the fort, in the distance. There is a small courtyard off to the side but it seems most of the people here are enjoying their lunch break on the various benches that line the wide walkway. The concrete benches are shaded by a row of snow covered trees. Enchanted stones create the Frostmaw flag mosaic while also keeping snow and ice from accumulating on the walkway. Upon reaching the building, you’ll pass through one of several glass doors. The interior is buzzing with activity. The center of the building clear of all floors so you can see straight up to people peeking over various balconies. Before being given free reign, an older lady with a grim expression directs you to be scanned with a magic wand and asks you to sign in on a visitor’s slip with a quill. Afterwards, depending on your destinated, you are escorted to the office of your choice by a serious but pretty feline assistant with teal hair and a very tight mini skirt.
Alvina’s office is on the third floor. She’s hunkered over her desk, some blueprints laid out on the table, creased with various instruments of measurement. Her hair is bound in a loose bun, chunky black frames rest low on her nose while she stares in the bright room at the uneven papers below her fingertips. Beside the desk, several crafted bits of metal are gathered in a box. Inside the box, a small box shifts as if alive at various intervals. She knocks her foot against in, trying to complete a formula with a frustrated scrunch of her nose. Her lips move soundlessly as she ponders. The desk is large, a drafting table that’s twice as long as a normal desk, and able to lift to different angles to accommodate her standing or sitting position. In front of the desk are two lounge chairs and a small collection of jars with various liquids inside. They are labeled in large black letters. ‘Water, Juice, Wine.’ It’s one of the few pleasures of working for Frostmaw. (Well, there are a lot of good things about it...but the weather isn’t one of them.) The office is relatively warm considering, in part due to the window along the back wall that’s casting light in. Over the lounge chairs, a few enchanted crystals bob against the wall, to cast light on that side of the room as well. At length, she stops, sighing with a furrowed brow at her project. She drops the charcoal pencil, her fingers dusty and black, while she scratches some of the material onto her cheek and steps back for a fresh perspective on the blueprints.
Irenic meanders in with narrow spectacles of his own looking down at a note which was sent to him with directions on where to meet the woman with a metal arm. Once allowed into Alvina’s office he knocks on the door as it opens, “uh, hello?” Low gruff timbre carries around the room just as mismatched gaze glances around to the various points of interest and he lets out an impressed whistle at her workspace. A glance at the liquids she had, “keeping hydrated I see.” That devious smirk spreads across scarred lips as he spots her, “is there anything you need help with? Alvin?” He squints at the paper in his hand where she signed her name, “that doesn't sound right?” He smoothed the top of his dusky greying hair back over his head.
Alvina looks up from her work bench with a surprised blink. Oh! That’s right, she’d sent a note. “It’s Alvina,” she clarifies, still half lost in thought while he enters and remarks on her collection of liquids. She clears her throat nervously. “You’re welcome to help yourself if you like.” She gestures with her fleshed arm to that portion of the office. “I sometimes forget to add the last ‘a’ of my name when I’m in a rush. My penmanship isn’t exactly as precise as my metal work.” She chuckles, it’s amusing to her. Then, a thought occurs. She’d sent the letter to the address he’d given her before but she couldn’t remember the name she’d written. “How do you pronounce your name?” She asks, leaning back off the table to approach her guest on the other side. She’s wearing a grease covered white shirt that hangs asymmetrical off her hips. Beneath that, she’s wearing baggy black slacks with cargo pockets along her calves and the exterior portion of her thighs. There’s still a charcoal smudge on her right cheek, her fingers are dusted black. “I don’t know why but I kept thinking it was Iron-rec”. She doesn’t say it right, but she’s aware of it. She moves to the closest lounge chair and sits, pulling her left leg up into the chair’s cushion, her knee tucked under her chin and wrapping her arms around her shin. “I’m almost done with the metal work. If you want, we can probably start today. Do you have any more questions for me? Are you still sure you want to do this?” Her bright green eyes are on him, serious and stern by comparison to the girl he’d met in the tavern.
Irenic declines the offer for anything to drink, “no thanks.” He’s dressed smartly for the cold, black slacks black v neck sweater and a black cotton shirt under that with black boots to match. Her name is corrected, “apologies, Avlina.” His smik remains in the pronunciation of her name when his accent came through at the attempt. When she guesses his name he shrugs, “close enough. It’s like Eye-er-nick.” He looks surprised, “you work faster than I expected. How much gold do you need for your work?” He asks in a nonchalant-no-big-deal way. When she questions if he really wants to do this he nods without hesitation, “of course. You got my confidence.” A glance at those blueprints and another impressed whistle, “entirely.” He slipped his sweater off which folded up the shirt underneath and exposed the hills and valleys his abdominal muscles poke into his tawny and tattooed skin, but it quickly fell again and he would leave that shirt on unless instructed otherwise. About to move from the door he holds the edge of it, “should this be closed?” If she says yes he would oblige, “where shall you have me?” He pulls free a leather pouch from his pants pocket and then another from the other pocket so he could pay her whatever amount it is she wants.
Alvina rubs the back of her neck apologetically for butchering his name. “I’ll commit it to memory.” She laughs before he starts asking how much gold she needs and slipping off his shirt. It makes her face flush and she waves her hands at him, embarrassed. “Y-you better stay dressed warmly, we’ll have to move to another room for the actual procedure itself. I can’t have you lying down on my desk now, can I?” She shakes her head, of course there was no way that would work. She needed sterile equipment. This was a medical procedure. “Forgive me if I sound repetitious but are you sure? There’s no guarantee it’ll work like you want it too.” Alvina’s aware it’s annoying to be asked the same question over and over but this is new to her. Adding back humanoid limbs she was starting to get the hang of but wings? She’d never touched them. All she had to go off of was her knowledge of anatomy and some old notes Cerinii had. Granted, they are very detailed but the bard felt uncertain for the first time in a while without her teacher’s hand to guide her own. So old now, it was so long ago and still she feels the anxiety of wanting to impress her. “20,000 if you are intent on paying me now.” She hates discussing money but it’s part of the trade. “But you can wait. Pay me half now, and half later to see how it turns out.”
Irenic gave her a reassuring smirk while draping his sweater over his tattooed arms, “I’m sure.” As if it was an everyday thing and doesn’t seem bothered at all by her requestioning. When she jokes about him on her desk he lets out a low short chuckle, “agreed.” He looked around for a blank piece of paper and quill and started to write a statement, ‘I, Irenic Older, ________ agree to pay __200,000 gold__ to Alvina, ________, for services rendered on October Seventeenth. Henceforth, Irenic will not hold Alvina accountable for any possible issues following procedure. This signed document proves that those responsible understand the repercussions and agree to these terms.’ Irenic signs next to his name after leaving enough space for her to add anything she needs to, he even signs the bottom as well and hands it to her, “if you have any other doubt.” He sets both of the pouches down on her desk and opens one, “I didn’t want to carry around so much gold, but these are smaller and greater in value.” Within one pouch she would be able to see glittering diamonds and gems, “if this isn’t quite enough I’ve signed that document and I’ll get more. I’ve had them estimated and the value is around what you’ve requested, if not more.” He was still smirking in hopes she’d get a little more confidence from his own.
Alvina watches as he fills out this waiver and agreement of payment. She smirks at his frankness. It’s oddly refreshing and reminds her of someone. She moves behind him to scribble her signature on it, there are no additions she’s concerned about. She did. The bard had plenty of doubts about plenty of things but she couldn’t let it hold her back. Her hands move towards the bags without expectation. There isn’t so much greed in her veins that she demands to count it out now. “I’ll be safe here. It’s a highly guarded facility.” Maybe he’d noticed on his way in. Not just anyone could wander around here. She’d had to add him to the list at security. The bags are moved to a drawer, which she opens and then immediately locks. “If you’re so sure…” She nods, trying to swallow her fears for the thrill of discovery. “Care to help me with these boxes?” She leans down to pick them up. There are two long boxes, they are both particularly heavy. “I tried to use a more lightweight
metal but I’m afraid it’ll warp if you tried to fly with something like...let’s say Caesium.” She pauses, in case he doesn’t know about this metal. It’s rare that people have extensive knowledge about these things. “It’s a silvery gold blend but it’s weak. Too weak to use for anything but...decoration really.” With one of the long boxes in hand, she waits patiently to see if he’ll take one so she can lead him across the hall to the room she’s prepped for him. There’s a long table, on which a fresh clean sheet has been placed. Nearby is a steel table with various bits of equipment prepared. Inside the room is a feline female wearing a white mask. She bows at the waist when they enter and Alvina smiles and waves her back upright. “You don’t you don’t have to be so formal, Mira.” She reminds her assistant as she moves to set her own box on the nearby countertop before starting introductions. “Irenic, this is my assistant, Mira. Mira, this is our brave guinea pig for the day.” Mira approaches, pressing a hand to her flat chest and nodding excitedly. Her hands then begin to move quickly, forming letters and symbols in the air. Alvina clarifies. “Mira is mute, but she’s very intelligent.”
Irenic nods once to her mention of her payment being safe, “of course m’lady.” He takes the boxes from her, “go ahead and stack all three if you want.” He holds the long boxes across his forearms and follows her while listening, “oh? Interesting…” he knows nothing about smithing or metals, but does genuinely seem interested because of her. “Where do you want this?” Mismatched eyes glance Mira and he smirks at her, the devilish one, “merry meet, Mira.” He sets the two boxes where she set the one and he sets any concerns about weight at ease, “avians backs can take the weight. I used fly with a full set of armor on and carry two swords back there. Wings were also armored sometimes and even though the feathers make them light, it was still two limbs of weight.” He curiously quirks a brow at Mira, still smirking, “Ah bon de vous rencontrer. Moi aussi je suis parfois difficile à comprendre.” It was basically recognizing her as a kindred spirit and he spots the table which elicits some light joking, “aw, is this for me? You shouldn’t have.” A short low chuckle, “I assume this is my seat then.” He slides his bottom atop it and would now take off her shirt if she demanded it.
Alvina lets Irenic carry all but one of the boxes, because she is stubborn like that. Mira’s eyes light up when Irenic speaks to her because she understands the language he’s speaking. She signs rapidly. “C'est un honneur d'aider avec votre procédure. Je vous souhaite bonne chance!” before walking over to finish setting up the table. “Thank you both.” Alvina smiles, letting her assistance work while she unpacked the boxes in slow, methodical motions. If everything was in the right place when they began, it would be faster. Less invasive. She wasn’t too keen on leaving any injury or seam she created open too long. That’s how infection spreads. Mira, for her part, moves to remove a portion of the table and provides an odd shaped horse shoe pillow to Irenic while pantomiming. He just had to lie on his stomach and his face would fit through the hole in the table comfortably. The pillow would help. Then she moves away to snag Alvina’s arm, her back to Irenic. She opens her hand wide, right next to her chin like she’s about to speak and then withdraws her fingers still close to her chin. Alvina shakes her head and laughs. “We prepared it just for you.” Alvina replies over her shoulder, reassured a bit that he was used to weight on his wings. As she’d never had them, she had no way of knowing how heavy or light they would be usually. “Now, before we begin, I want to tell you a bit about how it’ll go. I’m going to administer some sedative magic to put you to sleep. We will need you to remove any clothing or jewelry from your torso. It’ll take a few minutes for the sedative magic to kick in. After which, we’ll start the procedure.” Mira gestures, asking her how long it should take. “Ah, good point. I don’t know how long it will actually take, but there will be recovery time. You might have to stay here a day or so. Is that alright? Do you need us to send a message to anyone?”
Irenic grins widely at Mira and gives her a thumbs up before attempting this new custom a guy named Sidd taught him. His fist is held out to her, palm sized down awaiting a fist bump. It was an odd sign of camaraderie, but he found it interesting. Mismatched gaze follows the women preparing their instruments and such and then she’s requesting to take jewelry and clothes off his torso, “but I just got my nipples pierced.” His low chuckle and smirk proved he was joking as he grasped the back of the collar to his shirt and yanked it easily from the top of his head. Revealing a ripply tattooed and tawny torso area, but not without a myriad of scars and awful massive ones where his wings used to connect. “A day or so? I should be good. So, no.” Just in case he started to take the handful of piercings within his elongated pointy ears as well. He smoothed dusky graying hair back from his face when he looked down at the pillow for his head, “alright. So my head goes there.” He curiously glances around for a sedative he’s supposed to take, but if directed he would lay down anyway as he’s out his trust in this woman and now Mira.
Alvina | Mira excited looks at his hand gesture, tilting her head and balling her fist up the same to lie it on top of his. Like rock, paper, scissors or was she doing it wrong? She’d never heard or seen a fist bump before so she managed awkwardly, but smiling. Alvina shakes her head at Irenic’s joke. “It’s all fun and games until you lose a piercing and all the skin attached.” Possibly morbid, she’s got a weird sense of humor at times. Puns, dark humor, idiotic ramblings. It’s a wide spectrum of amusement. “It’ll be a local anesthesia first, to numb the area on your back and then I’d administer the rest. You aren’t afraid of needles, clearly.” She gestures to his ears as he removes the earrings. “You won’t feel a thing or your money back.” She grins, operative jitters working their way into her restless body. Her fingers twitch anxiously as she pulls the tray of tools closer to the table. She holds Irenic’s mismatched gaze with her emerald optics. Her tone is serious but hopeful. “I won’t let you down.” The left side of her mouth pulls up into a half grin. His confidence gives her confidence and his easy mannerisms make her feel better about the operation. She’s an empath, so when people around her are nervous, she’s nervous. His feelings bleed into her and she’s grateful for it. Even if he is scared and just playing cocky.
Irenic only smirked at Mira and let her ‘fist bump’ him in her own way, finding it actually kind of adorable. A low short chuckle at Alvinas joke because he may look like some serious whatnot, but he enjoys a good joke or pun. When she asses his fear of needles, or lack thereof, he now grins at Alvina, “you got it.” Then She’s all serious and his facial expression slowly fades to mimic her own, “I know.” He honestly didn’t know her very well, but this is something he’s missed for too long after a hundred and forty years of flying. Other than that, she just gives off that caring and trustworthy type. From here on out he would follow her lead follow her command.
Alvina feels the weight of the mood shift into her chest so she forces a laugh and gestures at the avian. “On your stomach, Irenic.” Her finger makes a corkscrew motion to tell him to flip. “We’ve got work to do. Mira?” The feline looks up bashfully. She’d been lost in her own mind for a moment while they conversed. When summoned, she moves beside Alvina and nods with confidence towards Irenic with a thumbs up. He’d be okay in their care. Mira grabs a jar of balm from the silver tool tray and opens it after pulling on gloves to protect her hands from the desensitizing mixture. She smooths it gingerly across the scars that mark where Irenic’s wings had been before, and the space inbetween. Alvina prepares the sedative, and after giving the balm a couple minutes to soak into his skin, she taps his numbing back with a light hand. He probably won’t even be able to feel it. She feels like there’s something encouraging she wants to say but she doesn’t know the man well enough to offer any real personalized advice or support beyond her reassurance that he’d come out of it all right. That’s the best she could do. “Okay, the sedative should be working soon…” She remarks in the tone of a nurse to a patient. It’s much like the voice she uses when she puts her children to sleep at night. The voice of a nurturer. The needle pinches his skin but he doesn’t appear to have flinched. The sedative magic strings through his system slowly, like spiderwebs winding in the wind. It shouldn’t take more than a couple minutes for him to fall asleep completely.
Many Hours Later
Irenic wakes up with a serious case of dry mouth, a headache and serious back pain while he tries to piece together why he is here… Or where is here? His head lifts off the circular pillow his head had been resting in and when he opens his eyes he nearly panics because he can’t see out of his left eye… Oh yeah it was removed and already blind, but now he's looking down at this thing he just had his face in, “iss thisuh,” mismatched eyes widen, “uh commode!?” Yes, the groggy near seven foot avian thinks he just had his face on a toilet seat. Slowly bringing himself up to his knees so he may sit on his arse while softly grunting out, “careful… Careful… Tender” Once at a seated position again he takes a deep breath and reaches to itch his back, but stops himself as the room around him comes into focus. Blinking a few times as the realization hits him and he doesn’t move a muscle for fear of messing anything up into further notice, but holy canoli his back is on fire to the bone.
Alvina | Mira is waiting for Irenic to wake and moved to his side immediately with a glass of water and a concerned gaze. Her left hand extended slowly in the universal sign for ‘take it easy’. Alvina was by the wash basin, rinsing the tools and surfaces with sterilizing tonics. Most of the boxes are now empty, and from the looks of the two women, they've been hard at work since Irenic first fell asleep. It's a long process fixing every single individual feather into place. Oh yes, metal enchanted feather by… metal enchanted feather. Alvina's muscles are taut and sore, as surely as Mira’s were. But she looks up at Irenic with a tired smile. “I wouldn't move yet…” She advises him as she turns to advance on the table. “ We closed the wounds but they won't stabilize for a little while still…. “ Irenic could likely feel a trickle or two of blood rolling down his back from the small bit of motion already executed. Mira stays nearby, to take the water cup back and refill it. While she's waiting she signs something at him that looks like encouragement to drink more. Pantomiming sipping from a cup. Alvina looks him over, to make sure there's still color in his face. He didn't lose too much blood but damn, working with bone and muscle was so invasive. The body is quick to reject any foreign material. That's where her magic came in, to trick his body into thinking these are his wings. They have always been here and would function as such. “Please rest…” She encourages him.” Mira and I will stay with you until it's safe to go.”
Irenic listened, took the cup offered and emptied the contents greedily. Then again. He probably repeated this a few times until he casually looked around the room for any reflective surface out of curiosity. Like trying to turn your head mid-haircut to see how it’s turning out, can you not? Haha. He stays still and nods once, “will do.” Avians heal naturally a little faster than humans, but he’s sure she too that into account for recovery time. “When should we test to see if I can move them? And after that when should we test their flight ability?” He found himself glancing around slowly once more, “and… Can I see how they look?” Now he was the one asking a million questions and an almost childlike wonder filled his one silver eye like a kid on Christmas. The trickle of blood made it down his side, mixing beautifully with the black tattoo there and when he used a hand to wipe it off he mentions, “you two must be exhausted.” He wipes the blood off onto his black pants, “either of you got a rag?” He glances to the bloodied blanket that was under him just now and for a long moment he seemed mesmerized by the sight of it… As if reminiscing about something within his own mind, but he was soon distracted by Mira and that grin returned as his hand accidentally caresses hers in taking the cup filled with water.
Alvina holds a rag in her hand, drying off the residual water from her fleshed digits. “I would give them a few more hours. We can’t rush it, even though you’ll heal a little faster. If we try too soon, it could cause damage I can’t repair. We don’t get too many errors here.” The bard wishes she could offer him some good news beyond the fact that everything was in a ‘pending’ status. It’s nerve wracking to be forced to wait. “One step at a time.” She offers a smile, at Mira and Irenic as the feline continues to refill the glass and pass it back to the avian without thinking it strange, how much water he’s drinking. “We can show you how they look at least, but don’t get up yet.” Alvina holds out a palm, to stay any motion in case Irenic tries to get off the table. Take it easy man! “Here, I’ve got a couple of mirrors. Mira, will you get the second one?” The feline nods, surrendering the full glass to Irenic once more before moving away to help Alvina place one large mirror behind and in front of Irenic. Much like a stylist after a haircut, to show you the back of your head. The women hold and rotate the mirrors to Irenic can see his new ‘wings’. Each feather has been reconstructed perfectly with silver plated replicas. They aren’t -as- light as actual feathers but they are enchanted to work in the same way. To move and resist appropriately. The metal frame that houses all the feathers is jointed, easily lifted or lowered with the twitch of his shoulder muscles. “When it’s healed a bit, I want to brush it with a white paint so it’ll look more natural. If that’s alright with you.” She added. When Irenic asks if they are exhausted, both women look across the divide at each other and smile. “It’s well worth it, we’ve already decided.” Mira nods to confirm the sentiment before handing Irenic the clean rag by the tray and another full glass of water. The mirror she’d been holding is leaning into the far wall now. She flushes, embarrassed by their contact and shuffles away to busy herself with cleaning the rest of the mess by the sink. Alvina moves to stand in front of Irenic, staring at his face and the blood he’s cleaning. “I don’t mean to sound rude but don’t be a typical guy and think you’re healed before you are.” It was said light heartedly, with an undercurrent of concern. “Don’t be too proud.” She wags her index finger at him. “We’ve prepared a room for you to rest in, but Mira and I will be resting in the same space so don’t hesitate to wake us and -PLEASE, I can not stress this enough. Do Not try to fly with them yet.” Crimson curls cling to her forehead and cheek with sweat. They’d worked hard to get this far. She’d be pretty miffed if he didn’t comply.
Irenic, like most avians, run thirsty all the time so - yeah ‘water please!’ Then She was throwing demands and he nodded once, but made sure to stop that because it pulled a little on his spine when he did, “of course, you’re the boss.” When he actually saw the wings though that half emptied cup of water tumbled to the floor because needless to say he’s in awe. “I…” He never even thought he’d have wings again let alone ones that looked like this. Those mismatched eyes take in all the details he could while a smirk slowly worked its way on scarred lips. He’s entirely fine with resting because as a man who’s spent most of his hundred plus life running or working himself to the bone he’s learned to take a day off or two, but he was just curious as to when is all. He glances down at the glass on the floor and an apologetic grimace takes over his expression, “I’m sorry.” When she mentions of painting them, “if you really wish to? But I think they are perfect just the way they are. If they look too natural people won’t be able to tell the craftsmanship and then I won’t be able to brag about you..” a glance to Mira when he adds, “two.” Then Alvina was before him waving her finger in his face and he can’t help but to smile at her… It’s odd seeing such a rough and well lived face smile that way as if he’s charming and doing so reveals white, but slightly crowded teeth. “It’s not rude, but I am no typical guy… I wouldn’t dare. Your wish is my command, Alvina.” A hesitant hand reaches out to lightly squeeze her shoulder since he can’t hug her, but she better be expecting one when he’s able! “I know I’ve paid you, but this is the nicest thing anyone has done for me. I appreciate you… This work is beautiful and I’ll do nothing to ruin it and I’ll never forget this. Just having them makes me feel a little more myself.” Mismatched eyes aim to lock to her own gaze, “thank you.” There was always confidence in the way he carried himself and articulated his words, but it seems renewed and it’s all due to Alvina.
Alvina wasn’t used to dealing with personalities that weren’t resistant to her demands. When he agrees easily, her chin tilts slightly in surprise. Oh. That hadn’t been too difficult! “It’s all up to you.” She says, in regards to the color. She didn’t have a preference. “If you like them this way but want to change them later on, I'm sure we can do that too. I just don’t want you to be dissatisfied at some point if they stand out too much.” Her own metallic digits flex. “Sometimes people have poor reactions to things they don’t understand.” Like metal fingers, legs, or wings. Mira is bashfully picking up the cup before she’d moved off to sort out the room they’d rest in. There is a noticeable charm in Irenic’s smile. An earnest joy that she hadn’t seen before. It summons her own tired grin, her hand falling atop his on her shoulder. “Believe me, you’ve helped me just as much. Just promise me you’ll try not to ruin yourself first. Metal is replaceable. Some other things, not so much.” Life, limb. There’s a blurred line that her mechanics can’t cross. He’s request is dangerously close to that line. Let’s hope it goes well. “I know what you mean.” In the regards of feeling more like yourself. Most days, she forgot her left arm wasn’t flesh and blood. She felt complete. “You are welcome.” She nods, moving out of his grip to unlock the wheels on the table he’s on. “Lie back down, we’ll move you to the next room. Physical exertion needs to be kept to a minimum.” She grins easily as Mira reappears and gives them the thumbs up. The other room was prepped and ready. Mira and Alvina both take one side of the table Irenic occupies and navigates it through the doorway down the hall. It’s a relatively quiet section of the towers. They pass through the next open doorway to a room with a low fire, several pitchers of chilled water and three feathered mattresses on the floor. The beds circle the fire in a semi circle. “I’m a firm believer in second chances, Irenic.” She says, with no prompting or follow up as she lowers the table he’s on to her knee level so he can scoot off and onto the nearest mattress. “Lie face down if you please. The mechanisms will become more fluid once they set properly, so you can fold them to your body after a while.” She’d taken that into consideration when shaping them. Alvina turns to the feline and nods, a wave of her fleshed hand at the beds. “Go on, you’ve earned it. Thank you.” Mira grins, bows, and then moves to the far right mattress to flop down face first. It doesn’t take her long to fall asleep while Alvina assists Irenic onto his mattress of choice and tends to any additional requests he has.
Irenic’s smirk became devious once more, “it’s fun to be different. Don’t let anyone ever make you feel otherwise because you are spectacular so you should stand out.” He meant what he said and easily does as he’s told and slowly as to not aggravate his surgery wounds. “I promise,” he responds to her mention some things not being replaceable. Once in the recovery room he does as instructed once more and maneuvers himself onto the near mattress with a sigh of relief before noticing Mira taking the bed on the opposite side of the room and his low gruff timbre says to her in a singsong way, “goooodnight Miiira,” and a wink to boot. Best he could without moving his wings too much he looks up at Alvina, “whoever’s got you, is set for life, lucky man. Sleep tight Alvina.” His smirk shifted to a genuine soft smile, but he was too excited to sleep just yet and he laid his head upon tattooed and tawny arms while thinking to himself.
Alvina chuckles, shaking her head at the male. Mira is practically purring with delight and makes some hand signals in the air that she translates on the feline’s behalf. “She said goodnight.” The bard throws a blanket over him and shakes her head. “Well when you find yourself out in the world, you might feel differently.” Did anyone ever think that about her? That she was someone worth keeping forever? Maybe, she can’t think about it now so she just grins and says, “I’m sure my husband appreciates the sentiment.” It was too complicated to try and explain the romantic portion of her life to her drinking companion. Whatever the cause, Irenic seems to have recovered from his period of depression and the bard is glad for it. “Go to sleep,” She huffs before leaving his bedside to turn down her own. Irenic is smack dab between the two women, even though their mattresses are all at odd angles. Alvina throws a couple more logs into the fire, which hisses and crackles with delight. No sunlight pierces the room through the curtains on the wall. It’s the best way for them all to sleep. “If you need anything, wake us up okay?” And shortly after she’s snoring lightly, turned away from Irenic and Mira to face the glowing flames.