minor injury meme.

[estivates]

You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess.

INJURIES.
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking?
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt.
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit.
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass.
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers.
6. Other. I'm not a doctor.

HOW'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself.
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack?
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it.
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault.

WHERE'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit?
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff!
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap.
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks!
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.

Comments

[thayes]

[They find their way back to Skyhold eventually, more battered than usual, and everyone goes to their own corners to lick their wounds.

Almost everyone, that is. Thayes, her arm bound in a sling and tied to her chest, takes the wobbly steps necessary to reach Josephine's office. She leans heavily--as heavily as her slight frame allows--against the door, tired from the journey and the never-quite-eased pain in her forearm.]

That...didn't go as well as we'd hoped. I wanted you to know.

((I thought perhaps we could split the difference--no one's really made a move yet, but there's been a touch of flirting. Let me know if you'd like anything changed!))

[thediplomat]

[Josephine's expression is a little absent when she looks up from her letters, but the distraction evaporates upon spying Thayes. She bolts to her feet, quick enough to rock her chair on its legs, though she hasn't the mass to topple it even in her haste.]

Inquisitor! You're - have you been to see the healer? --No, no, of course you have.

[It is entirely possible that her unabashed optimism is shining through once more.]

((Sorry for the delay! Mail was being a bit of a beast, so I missed the reply notification.))

[thayes]

I...um. Well, I'm going to.

[She shrugs--then winces as the movement jostles her arm. Thayes is so used to having full use of her body that it doesn't occur to her not to move her shoulder until it's too late.

There's enough worry in Josephine's expression that she tries to smile through the lingering echoes of that stab of pain.]

It seemed more important to update you.

((I know how that goes! No worries. ♥))

[thediplomat]

[It's difficult to be vexed in the face of that, and though Josephine makes an attempt in the service of better judgment, it comes out as something more akin to fond exasperation, more smile than sternness.]

I appreciate the thought, but really, it's more important you take care of yourself.

[She finishes crossing the room to take Thayes' uninjured arm - carefully, not wanting to jostle her or disturb any wounds she can't see at a glance.]

Come, sit. I will send a runner - there's no good in sending you out again, now that you're here.

[thayes]

It's all right--I can see the healer after we've--well. I guess...

[It's easier to argue when the sight of a chair doesn't make one long to curl up and nap in it. Thayes takes a seat, sinking down with a little sigh.]

I'm sorry, Lady Montilyet. I haven't even asked how things have been here.