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PostPosted: March 13th, 2009, 5:10 pm 
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Kjan looked around, then shrugged. "Phae had it last," he muttered back. "It couldn't have gone far after he... Well, it has to be somewhere nearby. It can't have just walked off, after all."

"What cannot have just walked off?" Silvryn asked.

"Well, see, the crowd was protesting getting lied to all the time, and word had gotten out about the Regent's death, and there was essentially a massive debate going on regarding who was or wasn't still among the living." Kjan glanced over at Stallos. As predicted, the physician had already gone back to work. "Phae showed up during the worst of it, and he apparently got the idea to... show them. It didn't go over very well."

Silvryn made the connection. "That was reckless," she said at length. "Even for him."

Kjan merely shrugged again. "He seemed on edge. Did the meeting with the council not go according to plan?"

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PostPosted: March 21st, 2009, 10:16 pm 
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"Well, yes and no," Jate replied. "The lords will work as a council -with us- to keep the city under control. I'll learn as fast as, make that faster than, humanly possible so that I can take over in two weeks. With luck." He rubbed his temple and grimaced, that headache hadn't gotten any better. Mentally scanning through the past conversations, Jate tried to filter out the complaints. "Most of the meeting was spent trying to smooth them over enough to agree with us. Lord Grey was there." That might explain the Phantom being on edge.

He looked at the figure lying on the ground. Dark gods, that was so much blood. Stallos was working quickly, but Jate feared it might not be quickly enough. At that moment he realized just how much this new band of rebels meant to him. They were his support. They held him up, taught him...The Phantom was so still. Since the moment they had met, he'd been a torrent of energy, always moving and planning. And now so still. If the Phantom...? He didn't even want to think. But what would happen to the rest? Would they break? Fade? ****, he needed to get better.

"Will the Ph-- Phaerin be okay?" Not the Phantom. Not anymore.

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PostPosted: March 22nd, 2009, 7:32 pm 
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"Yeah, he'll be fine," Kjan replied a bit too quickly to be entirely convincing. "He's survived worse." Or at least, that was what he kept telling himself. Kjan wasn't sure that he'd ever actually seen Phae fall that far, or hit his head that hard, or lose that much blood. Stallos seemed skilled, but if it was bad enough...

The physician didn't seem especially worried about the wound from the bolt - apart from the possibility of infection, that was more or less under control. It would be a long recovery, of course, but there at least nothing vital been damaged, nor was there still threat of bleeding to death once it was properly dressed.

No, the primary concern was that he still showed no signs of waking. Kjan pointed out that Phae generally kept himself in a perpetual state of exhaustion, and his body might just be using the rare chance to recover, but Stallos merely nodded absently at the suggestion and said that it was possible.

The crowd of onlookers was growing steadily thicker, despite repeated attempts to send them away. On the bright side, maybe if everyone was busy watching, they wouldn't have time to riot again. But it also made for a rather distracting environment, and the middle of a street was hardly the ideal place for medical treatment anyway. As soon as Phae was in a relatively stable condition (the bolt removed, the wounds cleaned and dressed), they very carefully relocated him to the medical ward of the palace.

Silvryn and Jate had to return to the council and Stallos was apparently very busy with something, and thus the task of monitoring Phae fell to Kjan. Which was fine, since Kjan doubted he would have been very far off anyway. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. Once everyone had gone their various ways, he procured a pipe for himself, lit it, and settled in to wait.

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PostPosted: March 22nd, 2009, 9:48 pm 
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Someone was driving a stake into his head.

The b.ugger refused to go and torment some other poor soul. No, he was flailing away at that hammer as though his life depended on it. It probably did. The Phantom would have gladly murdered him.

A long groan spurred the stake-driver on with new gusto. What had Phaerin ever done to deserve this kind of sadistic treatment?

A crack of light interrupted his fog of incoherence. It revealed a lack of stake-driving torturer. Was there no one upon which wrath could be visited for this travesty of his right to personal comfort? Another long groan.

The stake-driver came back with a fire poker when Phaerin raised a hand to his head. He yelped, and the stab of agony in his head combined with the furnace in his side forced him to abandon unconsciousness altogether. "What the bloody hell," he moaned, except it emerged without recognizable form into a string of slurred syllables.

Another crack of his eyelids revealed Kjan. "Make the one with the poker go away," he said.

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PostPosted: March 23rd, 2009, 6:18 pm 
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Kjan glanced up from the book that he'd found on a table in the adjacent room. It was some inane story about a bard and a cat that he was only halfway following anyway. "Can't do that, I'm afraid," he replied. "Dr. Stallos refuses to give you anything for the pain until he's ascertained that the fall didn't cause any serious brain damage. I tried to tell him that it can't get much worse than it already is, but he's holding his ground."

He set the book down and stretched. "You've been out for several hours now - even Dante was starting to worry. Sort of." That wasn't entirely true, but it had almost been implied. It sounded good, anyway. "And you'll be pleased to know that you did at least indirectly put an end to most of the rioting. I haven't heard of any huge problems since you decided to play martyr. Which was idiotic, for the record. I let you out of my sight for a few hours, and you climb up on a rooftop and start waving around severed heads and making yourself a perfect target for someone's crossbow. I thought you'd outgrown that by now."

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PostPosted: March 23rd, 2009, 9:56 pm 
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"Back up," said the Phantom. He pressed the heel of the hand attached to the arm that didn't hurt to his eyes. The stake-driver was in his head now. "Crossbow. Riot." There had been a square of light in one corner of the plaza. He let out a long groan. The groan jumped several octaves when he moved his arm.

He was terrified to look. "Kjan, if you do not get that doctor in here - no. Wait. How bad is it?"

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PostPosted: March 23rd, 2009, 11:51 pm 
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Kjan hesitated. "Well... it isn't that bad. Considering what could have happened. You got shot, obviously. Stallos said you were lucky, though, and don't seem to have injured anything too vital. He thought you might have cracked a few ribs, but couldn't tell just by looking. And you hit your head pretty hard on the stone, but like I said, can't get much worse there."

He suspected Phae hadn't been asking for a medical diagnosis, but he wasn't exactly eager to give the more practical answer to the question. "He said at least a week of bed rest, while your wounds start to mend. After that, probably a few weeks of being confined to the palace. And... depending on how extensive the damage is, it could be up to six months before you're cleared to fight. Though that's the high estimate. It probably won't be more than two or three."

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PostPosted: March 24th, 2009, 7:51 pm 
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Months. He didn't want to hear the word months. He didn't even want the word weeks. Phaerin - feeling as unPhantomesque as ever - dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. It seemed to be getting lower.

"Ugghhh," he moaned, inarticulate, covering his eyes with his hand.

Eventually, he said from behind his hand, "How determined is this doctor?"

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PostPosted: March 24th, 2009, 11:46 pm 
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"About as stubborn as any other doctor I've met," Kjan said, shrugging. "It's like he thinks what he's doing in important or something. Doesn't really matter how determined he is, though. Even if he can't get you to cooperate, there are quite a few of us who will be more than happy to assist him. The fastest and least painful way out is doing what he says."

He glanced up and saw Silvryn standing just outside the doorway. Good. Stallos had said to make sure someone was with Phaerin constantly. Getting to his feet slowly, he made his way over to where she was waiting.

"Could you stay with him for a bit?" he asked quietly. "Keep him awake and talking and whatnot? I'm going to go hunt down Stallos and let him know Phae's up."

Silvryn nodded and took Kjan's place in the vacant chair. For a moment, she merely watched Phaerin wordlessly. He was looking at least marginally better than he had earlier, though that was saying very little. He'd been so still, lying there in the middle of the street surrounded by blood. She'd seen him injured many times before, but never so... lifeless.

At length, she was able to evince a thin smile. "You are by far the most hypocritical person I have ever met, I hope you know," she said. "You cannot lecture me about recklessly endangering my own life, only to turn around and do this."

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PostPosted: March 25th, 2009, 11:57 pm 
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The ceiling had been dissolving into a haze shot with ribbons of dark unconsciousness. Phaerin blinked and it solidified. He looked at Silvryn. Two inches of raising himself on his intact elbow, and he was flat on his back again, already breaking into a cold sweat.

Weakling. He gritted his teeth against the pain and talked to the ceiling instead. "Sorry," he said. Grunted. Multiple justifications for his recklessness flashed through his head; none plausible. He itched to probe the extent of damage to his torso, swathed in bandages. He'd fallen...hit the cobblestones...

He swallowed. That hurt, too. Silvryn was very quiet; was she angry? He couldn't see. Couldn't tell. "It was stupid."

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PostPosted: March 27th, 2009, 12:07 am 
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"Climbing atop a building and displaying the head of a recently assassinated monarch? Yes, that was exceedingly stupid," Silvryn agreed dryly. "You can hardly be personally blamed for getting shot, though. We all let our guard down too early."

Her head hadn't stopped aching since that morning. What time was it now, even? They'd spent several more unproductive hours with the council after returning from the noon meal, during which practically nothing had been determined except what needed to be determined later. Personalities and opinions were too greatly varied in that room, and nearly every individual was accustomed to wielding a considerable amount of power. The resulting dynamics were hardly conducive to quick, decisive action.

There did, however, seem to be a large number in agreement regarding one matter.

"They do not think he can do it," she said abruptly. "Or at least, very few of them believe he can." Lord Grey had not been among those few. Silvryn was beginning to see where Phaerin had gotten his tenacity.

"I cannot say that I blame them - I am more than a little dubious myself. But... we have rested so much on his ability to do this. What if he cannot?"

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PostPosted: March 28th, 2009, 2:50 pm 
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Jate left the meeting in a foul mood. The lords had no problem expressing their disbelief in Jate's abilities. That's not to say they were too far off. He felt horribly inadequate. And as soon as that thought entered his mind, he made his choice. He was sick of whining to himself about not knowing anything. Of course, his decision only made him glower more.

The rooms were empty, as was the library. Jate made his way to the ward where Phaerin was being kept. Knocking on the door, Jate stuck his head in the room. "I don't suppose either of you know where Dante is? We have extra time, and I need to learn."

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PostPosted: March 28th, 2009, 10:35 pm 
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Phaerin closed his open mouth and thanked whatever capricious gods existed that he hadn't yet spoken. He regarded Jate's head, sticking through the door as though disembodied. No. He had no idea where Dante was. He'd been distracted by the arrow in his midsection.

Keeping this response to himself, he said instead, "No," and looked at Silvryn.

There was a beat, and what she'd said replayed in his ears. They do not think he can do it. And did Phaerin?

"Wait, Jate," he said, before Silvryn would reply. "You know what happened." Not a question. "Stop it. That's going to tear Kytana apart. Hold it together, Jate." If he could sit up - but the attempt made him hiss abruptly through his teeth despite iron self-control. "Raen will try to destroy it."

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PostPosted: March 30th, 2009, 7:57 pm 
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Jate looked at Phaerin soberly. The man lay weak on the bed unable to sit up, yet when Jate saw his eyes he could still see spirit. The Phantom's eyes penetrated his own with a force that was nearly tangible. Jate could almost feel strength and fire pouring out of them.

"I know," he replied quietly. "And I will." He would. Not try, he would. The thought of free time gone now, Jate nodded to Silvryn and left the room.

He wasn't quite sure where he was headed, but it didn't matter. Only a few turns away from the hospital ward brought someone approaching from the other end of the corridor. Grey hair - must be one of the lords. As the man drew closer, Jate recognized him as Lord Vivera. The man was one of the less outspoken about Jate's incompetence to lead, but likely not a supporter.

"Master Jateyani." The man made it sound as if Jate was a palace craftsman. "I hear that" -Jate was sure he was going to say idiot- "reckless man survived his wounds?"

"That he did, my lord. However, he would rest easier if the man responsible for them was caught. As would, I trust, the majority of us. Someone waving around weapons in the square can cause more trouble than we need right now. I understand Commander Sorian managed to calm the riot, but I doubt it will be the last. While the people are aware the Regent is dead and some may have heard about the elves, we can't be sure. Instead of sitting behind these walls keeping to ourselves, someone needs to let the people know the danger." Jate hoped the man would listen to reason.

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PostPosted: April 1st, 2009, 11:01 pm 
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Silvryn silently arched an eyebrow at Phaerin. Jate was at least beginning to show some conviction. It was improvement, even if she still was not convinced. The lords had made valid points - he was very young and very inexperienced. They could teach him everything there was to know about leadership, but it would not make him any more ready. That part was up to him.

A brief knock on the door frame announced Kjan's return with the doctor. Stallos seemed prepared to shoo them out of the room, but apparently concluded that the effort would be wasted. Kjan leaned up against the wall and waited.

"I won't ask how you are feeling," the doctor said dryly as he began poking around Phaerin's midsection. "I assume rather poorly. But you're awake now, which I suppose is a start. How is your head?"

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PostPosted: April 2nd, 2009, 9:19 pm 
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"About ready to implode," said - grunted, rather - Phaerin, grimace deepening with every prod at his poor torso. "I'm sure," he added in between spurts of breath, "it'll heal - faster - without you bloody poking it!"

The moment the physician, skepticism dripping from his mustache, ceased his painful examination, Phaerin ignored the discomfort and hoisted himself up on his elbows. "How long is thig going to take?" he demanded.

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