[Time to get off the floor. It's a quick task, to pull Aether's shirt the rest of the way off himself, gently dislodging his braid and letting it fall forward over his shoulder.
Again it feels strange to have neither Changsheng nor Paimon about, trading scathing commentary and wound-up worry. He wonders if Aether would have stayed, would have revealed his suffering at all, had there been others involved.
Baizhu hands Aether his shirt to hold.]
I don't want you to get so cold you start to shiver. [What he's going to do may cause more discomfort than relief, at least at first. Why make it worse than that?] I'll begin whenever you are ready. I make no promises about it being painless, but I will try.
[So saying, he moves to stand behind Aether, careful not to block the light.]
Sit up straight, and relax as much as you can. If it becomes too much for you, please say so.
[He means it, Aether. His hands momentarily just rest on the traveler's shoulders.
Baizhu himself takes a long breath, and then his work begins. Visually, at first, and then as gently as he can from top to bottom with his hands - a careful prod here and there where the muscles seem especially tense - he works his way along Aether's bare skin, looking and feeling for signs of damage from his now-absent wings.]
[ It doesn't have to be painless, Aether thinks. He of all people knows best that many things in life simply cannot be painless, and his treatment for a very painful situation, in particular, was never something that he expected to be perfectly soothing. He almost wants to apologize for making Baizhu get down on the floor to talk to him, but by the time he's got his thoughts together about that, the doctor has already moved and is standing behind the traveler instead.
Well — a gentle touch examination, like this — no, Aether doesn't mind it at all. It's only natural, as a physician, to try and identify where the exact issue is. For the most part, Aether doesn't react; his bare skin responds the way that bare skin does, and he even seems a little soothed by the touch. But when Baizhu's thumbs pass over or prod along a set of diagonal lines along his shoulderblades, that's when he shudders, the intake of his breath hissing slightly against his teeth. It's not too much for him, so he doesn't complain, but the pain reaction is quite clear. ]
Ah — there, that's where they... where they were.
[ To his credit, the traveler maintains a relaxed posture even through the slight twinge of pain that accompanies Baizhu's fingers brushing over his wounded wings. He isn't laughing anymore, but he sounds thoughtful, as if he's put thought — no doubt he has — into his own medical mystery. ]
It's funny... It's not as though there were ever structures there. No bones or feathers. They were made of light...
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[Time to get off the floor. It's a quick task, to pull Aether's shirt the rest of the way off himself, gently dislodging his braid and letting it fall forward over his shoulder.
Again it feels strange to have neither Changsheng nor Paimon about, trading scathing commentary and wound-up worry. He wonders if Aether would have stayed, would have revealed his suffering at all, had there been others involved.
Baizhu hands Aether his shirt to hold.]
I don't want you to get so cold you start to shiver. [What he's going to do may cause more discomfort than relief, at least at first. Why make it worse than that?] I'll begin whenever you are ready. I make no promises about it being painless, but I will try.
[So saying, he moves to stand behind Aether, careful not to block the light.]
Sit up straight, and relax as much as you can. If it becomes too much for you, please say so.
[He means it, Aether. His hands momentarily just rest on the traveler's shoulders.
Baizhu himself takes a long breath, and then his work begins. Visually, at first, and then as gently as he can from top to bottom with his hands - a careful prod here and there where the muscles seem especially tense - he works his way along Aether's bare skin, looking and feeling for signs of damage from his now-absent wings.]
no subject
Well — a gentle touch examination, like this — no, Aether doesn't mind it at all. It's only natural, as a physician, to try and identify where the exact issue is. For the most part, Aether doesn't react; his bare skin responds the way that bare skin does, and he even seems a little soothed by the touch. But when Baizhu's thumbs pass over or prod along a set of diagonal lines along his shoulderblades, that's when he shudders, the intake of his breath hissing slightly against his teeth. It's not too much for him, so he doesn't complain, but the pain reaction is quite clear. ]
Ah — there, that's where they... where they were.
[ To his credit, the traveler maintains a relaxed posture even through the slight twinge of pain that accompanies Baizhu's fingers brushing over his wounded wings. He isn't laughing anymore, but he sounds thoughtful, as if he's put thought — no doubt he has — into his own medical mystery. ]
It's funny... It's not as though there were ever structures there. No bones or feathers. They were made of light...