It had still been days without seeing Riley. The weather was dry and hot and dust covered everything. Gentil could hear the booms of cannons in the distance and he tried to keep himself distracted between his patients with the task that Mezaido had given him. He stood before the target dummies in the late evening light and summoned Light to him.
One… he channeled the spell quickly and let it fly, sending a more accurate Smite at the dummy.
Two… he cast again quickly and let the Light punch at the inanimate object.
Three… he thought about the fact that his month was coming to an end.
Four… would he go back home or would he stay with Riley here, helping the wounded and putting himself at risk?
Five… Before he knew it he’d easily cast the Smite spell five times in a row and didn’t feel as drained as he had a week ago when he’d done it. Mezaido had known he could do it and he smiled softly to himself. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and decided it was a good time for a little of that diluted fruit wine.
He pulled the sheet on the clothes line to give him some privacy and sat by his campfire. It was refreshing going down and he nursed the cup carefully to make it last. Mez had retrieved it from Orgrimmar and that made it a precious commodity. It was handy, keeping his mind off the things he’d seen in this war and his worry for his sweetheart.
Part of him wanted to stay and be supportive. But there was another side of him that thought he was pressing his luck for being there longer than he’d ever been on any warfront. The rations did nothing for his health and he was thankful for Mezaido’s basket. The fresh preserves and cheese would perhaps remind his body that it once had meat on it.
His robes were too loose and sleep was sparse. He was volunteering more than he needed to, trying to keep himself busy as he worried about Riley. His complexion had gained color in the repeated burns he got from being in the desert like place and his feet had callouses from his old boots. His eyes were drawn and bruised from the lack of sleep and he only knew what day it was when he asked the soldiers.
He could do his worrying at home or he could do his worrying here. What would he choose? He wasn’t built for war and he certainly wasn’t built for some of the things he’d seen. He moved to drain his cup and realized it was already empty.
(( caught up on my words! I have less than 6k words to go for the next three days I can do it! Tomorrow is a write off though, because I work 6-2pm and then go back in for midnight till 9am Friday… But Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends! May you eat lots of foods! ))
He felt like he’d barely slept at all. It was just a nap, to restore some of his energy so he could get back to the Infirmary. He undid the binds around his wrists with his teeth and reached for the veil he’d been using to keep the sun off his delicate skin and slipped into his sandals and out of the tent.
The sun had moved significantly from where it had been so he must have been asleep for quite some time! Gentil certainly didn’t feel refreshed although, his limbs still hurt and his head throbbed. Perhaps he slept too much! He would make some tea for himself soon after he saw to his patients.
Gentil barely noticed the guards giving him an odd look as he walked into the large structure and looked around. It was mostly quiet and there wasn’t anyone rushing around or making groans and cries as they were sewn shut. Had he been asleep for that long?
The delicate physician moved over to a nearby patient that seemed to catch his gaze. The Troll seemed a little groggy but nonetheless he lifted his head from the cot.
"Hello my friend, how are you feeling?"
The Troll rested his head back down and smirked at him. “Ja that worried about meh?”
Gentil gave a tired chuckle and patted his chest. “It’s what I do. Do you need anything?”
"Uh, no little doctah. Still good."
Gentil started to check his bandages and found they were freshly changed. He must have had a funny look on his face because the Troll watched him with interest. “Okay, sleep well.”
Confused, Gentil turned to look at another that was close by. His bandages had been recently changed as well. He supposed he should be thankful that someone was coming behind him and following up; it meant that there were no new wounded coming in perhaps that took precedence.
He made his rounds, realizing that there was nothing more for him to do. It was time for that tea, he thought. Stifling a yawn, Gentil moved outside with his magical replenishing medical kit and actually considered going back to sleep but he really wanted to wait for Riley.
Some days were so dry in Durotar that Gentil sat in the tent with his feet in a bucket of water. His robe had been pulled up just above his knees and his elbows rested on them, hunched and staying out of the hot sun. His pale complexion had already burned a few times and he was taking to wearing sheer material draped around his head and shoulders like some sort of veil.
The scent of potent balm slowly filled the tent. He let it seep in on his narrow shoulders, coating the blisters he’d developed from repeat exposure; he felt foolish for not noticing it happen at the time. He’d been so involved with treating the soldiers that once they’d started to overflow from the infirmary he had to take them outside. It had been a long day and evening of surgeries and sewing and patching soldiers that he’d barely noticed time slip away.
Had he truly fallen asleep out in the sun? Apparently he had and it was a little close to the front. Explosions had almost reached him were it not for the talented troll that helped get them free. He might leave that part out if he had to recount the story to any one of his loved ones; they worried enough about him as it was.
His head slowly drooped between his shoulder blades and he could feel unconsciousness fading in again. The soft splash of the sponge into the bucket woke him and he watched the ripple around his feet, just barely making out his reflection. His heart quickened and he watched as it settled to reveal more of what he’d been avoiding for years. The wind stilled outside.
Meta-question for all my TMI lovelies with multiple OC’s.
Are there any things the majority of your characters have in common? Quirks, likes, needs. Are there any reoccurring themes running through your stories?
Much like Silversong it might come down to family! Seems the Shado’loran family likes to attract and interweave with a lot of my characters.
But ultimate theme answers! 1. Every single one of my characters has an extreme vice/addiction that both gives them some sort of sexual pleasure and could also kill them. 2. Every one of my OCs has had at least one defining self-loathing development plot whether played or in the future planning.
Two-parter. First: Does your character prefer their sex to be the ‘lovemaking’ variety (candles, mood music, slow exploration, gentle caress, etc. etc.) or are they more into the hardcore ‘fucking’ type of sex (bent over something in the house,…
ROOOMAAAANCE - until someone rough-handles him and he gets all fluttery and flushed and pretends to whimper until he sticks his face in the pillow and tiny behind in the air…
Breakfast! Heavens it’s the best meal of the day I’m so excited you asked!!
*Gen giggles happily*
Well it all starts with a flood of sunshine, pouring over my favorite tea set. There has to be a beautiful view as I step out onto the balcony and let the soft winds embrace my lazy wardrobe. Sweetened yogurt and fruit with bread dipped in honey, followed by warm baked goods fresh from the oven with preserves! Oh stars was that too extravagant?
Gen and Darn get the same question, just cause! :D When did Gentil realize he preferred men? Was it a sudden realization or did he get swept off his feet by someone? Has he ever struggled with this preference?
Goodness! When did I realize it? I didn’t really have any preferences or even thoughts on such things for the first year I’d been working in Tranquillien under Matron Narsilla. When I finally got brave enough to wander to the city, I met a very handsome and yet odd Magister by the name of Catraicity. His affections seemed so sincere and before I knew it he was making my heart flutter! But in the same week he also broke it and I had barely any time to realize what was going on before I’d started to work for my future ex-husband. So I guess it wasn’t anything quite so romantic - it was a matter of circumstance.
I struggled with it once when I became very good friends with a young lady with a stutter. She was more shy than I was and very pretty. I could have seen myself making her happy but I realized that I couldn’t be the strength she may have needed and it might have been a brief affair. I also may have turned out a little differently!