[Open] ☆ 5th Page ☆ Owl Be Back

[noctuagoetia]

Who: Stolas and you!
Which: Open Log
Where: The little cabaret club in Reverein.
When: Back dated to when he puffed for his canon update three days later
What: Stolas returns back from disappearing to have a jolly ol' time back in Hell, only to puff right back in the middle of town looking like a cat chewed him up.
Warnings: Possible talk of death. And dad jokes

The day started out normal enough. Well, as 'normal' a dreamland could be after the most recent event that rocked Reverein that is. The town square was probable a buzz with native and dreamers alike as they went about to survey the damages the Stary Eater's chaos had brought. Though whatever powers were at play had another idea instore.

As if a new arrival was entering Reverein, though the timing was all wrong, a portal opened smack dab in the middle of The Square. Unceremoniously it dumped out one Ars Geotia out on his ass. The sudden drop got a shocked hoot from the massive owl as he crumpled to the cobblestone below and the gateway closed behind him, its job complete. Welp, not as graceful as the first time he arrived... Though Stolas had seen better days. The Goetic Prince had returned sporting injuries that he did not have when he disappear. He was covered in bandages with his left arm and right leg in a cast, making it impossible for him to stand. In fact, he was just laying there limp as a ragdoll as he stared up at the sky.

What the Hell was going on? Trying to make sense of what he had just experienced... It felt so real, going back home, no memory of this place... He would have chalked it all up to it being a vivid dream if his injuries didn't painfully throb. Yep... yep... it was real. It all happened. But why did this place send him away only to bring him back? Ugh... He would have to wait to address that later... First thing first, getting himself off the ground would be a good start.

Rolling over onto his side, Stolas called out for help. "E-excuse me, could you lend me a hand? Currently I have no leg to stand on."

Comments

[noctuagoetia]

Oh fucking course Blitzø had to make a comment about the accidental sound that squawked out. Honestly, he would have preferred the laughter over the sly smirk the imp was giving him.

"Maso-?! Blitz! That wasn- Its not what you- I- It tickled!" Stolas sputtered feeling royally embarrassed by the whole situation.

He was most grateful that Alastor either; didn't know or choose not to acknowledge his little slip up and changed the subject which the goetia gladly jumped on to. Anything to distract him from the burning humiliation that seared his cheeks. Turning to look back at Alastor, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"H-how fascinating. It wouldn't by chance be holy in any fashion, would it? I don't think I need to inform you that demonic energy and that of the angelic don't mix very well." Stolas lets out a nervous chuckle.

Which was cut off sharply as he flinched at the deer's touch. His wounds were still raw and sensitive. Stolas' eyes flickered nervously over to the imp who was still present to study the look on his face. This wasn't the first time Stolas had been banged up, but for some reason this time it felt different. Fighting off the lingering threads of his lucid dream, alone and broken in that empty sterile hospital room the owl tore his eyes away. The bandages fell away to expose a patch of disturbed feathers, bent and snapped quills poking out. The stab wound to his shoulder was deep, through and through, requiring several stitches to sow the hole right up.

[helluvaboss]

The humor evaporated pretty instantly once the wounds were actually revealed, and a nasty guilt clawed into Blitzø's chest. He rubbed his temple, namely to hide his expression from Alastor, from whom Blitzø didn't particularly want to hear a comment on any of his feelings.

At least those thoughts were easier to lock onto than spiraling in guilt more. The imp took Stolas' hand and squeezed his fingers, speechless, letting his brain stew angrily instead on if that sinner says one fucking word about me I'm gonna make him eat his own teeth--

[lonelysmiles]

Alastor raised a bemused eyebrow. "I've been in Hell for ninety years, Your Highness. I should think by now I'd have learned a bit about that. But to answer your question, my magic is neither purely demonic nor purely holy. Which loa that deigns to answer any request for assistance will tip the balance, but overall my powers are as neutral as the void."

His eyes carefully studied the wounds, so focused on his task that he ignored the silent drama currently going on.

"Though interesting that you should bring up holy energy. I can practically taste a lingering tang of it from these. These were inflicted by a holy blade or at least one with holy steel incorporated into it, weren't they?" He leaned in close to study the cuts. "These aren't from a fight; too precise. Prince Stolas, what have you been up to?"

[noctuagoetia]

Stolas lifted his eyes to glance at Blitzø as he took his hand. The gesture made his heart squeeze in his chest. Was he worried about him? Was he worried? Angry? The Ars Goetia tried to decipher the muddy expression on the imp's face, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in response.

Then the sinner spoke again, and the owl's head turned back. What a keen eye the deer had, a little too keen if you asked him. Of course someone of his reputation could tell the difference in blade work. Awkwardly, Stolas chuckled.

"Yes well... That would be because there was an assassination attempt raised against me when I returned home. The imp my soon to be ex-wife was ever so kind to give me the V.I.P. treatment."

[helluvaboss]

Eugh. Blitzø doesn't have a remark, looking at the wounds sourly. A literal mark of him fucking up, huh. And... he knew himself, he was only handling it even worse back home.

[lonelysmiles]

"She always seemed like such an unpleasant woman. I remember thinking when I saw your wedding announcement in the papers that I'd never seen a more miserable groom." He turned back to his herbs. "Were you not an Ars Goetia yourself, I would've been tempted to start planning a menu. I rather love bitter flavors, but I feel like hers would still need to be compensated for."

He'd seen Blitzø's reaction along with the prince's. Oh, my. This was certainly stirring up some drama, wasn't it? Payment enough for what he was doing, he supposed. Spiced things up a bit.

He finished griding dried herbs into a powder and poured them into the large bowl of water.

"Fortunate you visited a hospital or other medical facility before coming here. You'll still scar from the holy wounds, but they won't look as bad as if I were the only one to treat them. Probably won't even be noticeable without actively looking for them!"

His exposed claw had a few silver lines to it that had nothing to do with Hellish injures, giving some idea of what Stolas could have ended up with.

Alastor started pulling from his basket of goodies pure linen bandages, carefully sliding them into the bowl to not waste a drop of the water. He then stood over it and added a few more drops of his blood, triggering a faint spring green glow. Then he cleaned out the mortar and pestle again, his shadow retrieving a much smaller bowl of water that he added yet another concoction of herbs and blood to. This he dipped a pure linen cloth into it before leaning over Stolas and beginning to clean the smaller wounds first with the damp cloth. The stab wound would need something more than a quick cleaning.