Who Needs Hospitals [Diana]
Posted Jun 18, 2018 15:53:11 GMT -7
Post by Vieri di Adatto Isabello on Jun 18, 2018 15:53:11 GMT -7
The Isabello mansion was set up on a tall, otherwise empty hill. Looking out the top floor windows made it easy to see anyone leaving the premises, out through the gardens circling the building then past the gated stone wall. More importantly, however, as long as there was someone with eyes up top, it was very hard to get in without being spotted halfway up the hill. A small lanturn always burned in the windows of the three story manor, and it’d been nearly ten years since someone had made it to the door of the house without the staff there, ready to greet them.
Domenico was the one to greet Vieri at the door. Within a course of a second, the man’s face had turned from one of moderate concern and curiosity to outright horror as he began barking orders over his shoulder. Rustlings very swiftly began to pick up throughout the house as the servants got on their duties, fast. By the time Vieri had made it upstairs to one of the large guest rooms, the double bed (imported from the information age) had been made, a tray of fruits and cheese laid out on the side table, and a large box of medical supplies laid beside the bed. One of the maids, a woman with muscles that could crush a man’s head and who on at least one known occasion had, bowed and stepped out of the newly dusted room.
Vieri had set Diana down in the large bed. The medical supplies were completely ignored - she had that covered - but he did try to set as much as he could in the correct-ish position, twisting her legs back around and straightening out her broken arm. He then sat down at the table to get to work on things more useful than worrying about an unconscious person. She was tough, and her powers made her tougher. She hadn’t even sounded in pain back in Shanghai. In a couple of hours, she’d be back together again and fine, and so she wasn’t worth worrying about anyway. She was always fine.
Knocks came on the thick wood door three times. The first was Domenico with the paperwork he hadn’t asked for but did want. The second was a servant with news that someone had come to see him, hearing he and Diana had made somewhat of a scene coming in. They were to be told to leave the premises immediately. The third was his sister, who he promised he’d play with later while blocking her from pushing past him to survey the gore.
It was a relief when he was finally let be, just a pile of paperwork and an information age pen in his hand, the large mastiff leaning against his leg seeming to be actively trying to push him out of his chair. It was quiet and peaceful; everyone (awake) in the building would actually listen to him when he told them to leave him alone, and no mage battles were about to break out. He was choosing to focus on this rather than the mage stitching herself back together.
Diana
Domenico was the one to greet Vieri at the door. Within a course of a second, the man’s face had turned from one of moderate concern and curiosity to outright horror as he began barking orders over his shoulder. Rustlings very swiftly began to pick up throughout the house as the servants got on their duties, fast. By the time Vieri had made it upstairs to one of the large guest rooms, the double bed (imported from the information age) had been made, a tray of fruits and cheese laid out on the side table, and a large box of medical supplies laid beside the bed. One of the maids, a woman with muscles that could crush a man’s head and who on at least one known occasion had, bowed and stepped out of the newly dusted room.
Vieri had set Diana down in the large bed. The medical supplies were completely ignored - she had that covered - but he did try to set as much as he could in the correct-ish position, twisting her legs back around and straightening out her broken arm. He then sat down at the table to get to work on things more useful than worrying about an unconscious person. She was tough, and her powers made her tougher. She hadn’t even sounded in pain back in Shanghai. In a couple of hours, she’d be back together again and fine, and so she wasn’t worth worrying about anyway. She was always fine.
Knocks came on the thick wood door three times. The first was Domenico with the paperwork he hadn’t asked for but did want. The second was a servant with news that someone had come to see him, hearing he and Diana had made somewhat of a scene coming in. They were to be told to leave the premises immediately. The third was his sister, who he promised he’d play with later while blocking her from pushing past him to survey the gore.
It was a relief when he was finally let be, just a pile of paperwork and an information age pen in his hand, the large mastiff leaning against his leg seeming to be actively trying to push him out of his chair. It was quiet and peaceful; everyone (awake) in the building would actually listen to him when he told them to leave him alone, and no mage battles were about to break out. He was choosing to focus on this rather than the mage stitching herself back together.
Diana
