005 - Scars

[fistfullofmagic]

Who: Dhaos, the residents of Ordo 2&3, and visitors
What: neglecting his health finally catches up to him
Where: Ordo 3, Dhaos' room
When: backdated to about noonish, and anytime after (please specify)
Style: Brackets
Status: Open




[When Dhaos had awakened earlier this morning, he dearly wished he hadn't. Everything hurt, especially his throat, and he just felt so cold. That confused him; shouldn't he be adequately warm with his blankets and sleep clothes? Why does everything hurt so...?

In a slight daze, he'd attempted to go seek help - surely Zelda would know what to do - only to find that he simply didn't have the energy to do so. Not even remembering to call for assistance - not that he would have been able to without considerable pain - he has patiently waited for someone to find him for the past few hours.]

Comments

[fistfullofmagic]

[A slight whine is all Dhaos manages in response, and even that is painful. He wants to be able to roll over to face the door so that he might see his visitor - Lloyd, his mind sluggishly supplies - but he doesn't have the energy. Even that small noise he had made had been difficult to muster the strength for...]

[redcladidealist]

[That small noise is as clear as if Dhaos had shouted in his ear, and it makes alarm rise inside of Lloyd even more than if the man had done just that.]

Dhaos?

[Not waiting, he opens the door - and is immediately glad he did. The sight of Dhaos lying limp and pale makes the alarm inside him skyrocket.]

Dhaos!

[The teen immediately crosses the room with a stride that's this side short of a lunge and drops down to put a hand on his forehead, trying to feel his temperature.]

Dhaos, what's wrong? Are you all right?

[fistfullofmagic]

[Dhaos manages to shake his head weakly. There's no way to put up a strong front when alternating between chills and feeling as if Ifrit's flames burn beneath his skin, when even simply existing hurts. To Lloyd, the seraph should feel very feverish.]

[redcladidealist]

[Thankfully, Lloyd's sense of touch still remains, so he can feel that Dhaos's forehead is far too warm to be normal.]

You've got a fever. Here, I'll pull up your blanket.

[Grabbing the edge of the blanket, Lloyd tugs it up to cover Dhaos a little better.]

Can I get you anything? Do you need water?

[Don't mind him, he's just going to fuss and worry and try to remember what his Dad always did whenever he was sick.]