Hello Old Friends

[merryeccentricities]

It's not that Joly is worried over Bossuet being gone a while; although, given past history, maybe he should be. It's just been a while, and Joly's been in the infirmary trying again to figure out how some of the more advanced machinery actually works without taking it apart (and it does work, he's seen that, but how? The gearless mechanisms of times past his are so much more complicated.) and he needs a break, and Bossuet wasn't in their rooms or in the Bar and--

--And yes, true, Joly fusses, sometimes. He knows this. He tries not to, but he doesn't try very hard. Because he's not two steps out the door to the woods when he sees someone staggering in the general direction of the Bar with a familiarly confused and probably concussed expression.

"Oh no, Bossuet. What happened this time?" Maybe he should try to sound professional and removed, but that point passed long ago. He is calm though, and smiling, even while hurrying over to see where it might be safe to offer support. This is a familiar sort of disaster.

Comments

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Ah. Yes. What happened this time? Lesgle lets himself stop walking, really quite grateful. "I don't think the collarbone is broken after all," he offers, which he realizes isn't quite an answer to Joly's question, but at least it's an answer to a question. "The ribs--" He leans himself against Joly and winces.

"I was up a tree, you see, and like many cats I was puzzled as to how to get down again--or--at any rate I fell, and the branch joined me. It offered moral support, if not physical support."

He's pretty fuzzy on the later details, but he distinctly remembers falling out of the tree with the branch. "Oh, and we got the roof up. Remarkable man, Fauchelevent."

[merryeccentricities]

Well. That certainly clears everything up. "The roof? What does-- no, wait, why were you in a tree? Who let you head into a tree?" It's a rhetorical question; no one who knows Bossuet would suggest such a plan. Joly gets a better grip around Bossuet's shoulders and starts walking towards the infirmary, carrying as much of his weight as is possible without putting too much pressure on ribs that do, even to the touch, seem less than ideally solid. "Really, you know, if you wanted to see me practicing you might have just come by for a visit."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Ow, he says softly. Ow. "But I wanted the best seat in the house for it. Can't let everyone else have all the fun."

He shuffles along, almost hurting more now that he knows there's help and rest not far off. "I do apologize."

[merryeccentricities]

"I'll pardon you this time, but mind it doesn't happen again." It will happen again. That's part of knowing Bossuet, expecting Things to Happen. "Really, knowing you, I should be congratulating you for just falling out of a tree, and not getting turned into a frog or sprouting scales." It's been a fairly serene few weeks, all things considered!

Still: ow, indeed.It's not the first time Joly's had to walk an injured friend to the Infirmary here; they really need a better means of transport. Maybe there is one, and he just doesn't know about it?

For now, here's the infirmary, after not too long a walk. Joly helps Bossuet on to one of the beds and brushes his cheek lightly. "I'm going to have to wait on the painkillers until I've run a few diagnostics, all right? It won't take long, and then we'll get you patched up so fast, you'll be astonished."

It's true; checking to see what's broken, how much, and just how bad the concussion is (not very, thankfully), and getting off enough of Bossuet's winter outfit to work properly takes much longer than using the right fusers and handing over a few good medications (and setting on a rib-belt, just for some support with the last of the healing there).

After that it's just waiting and observing to make sure the concussion doesn't do anything unexpected. And then Joly can fuss properly.