Marten blinked dumbly for a second at the hand Jaryd was reaching out towards him, until his brain finally processed the words. Jaryd was offering Healing, and though Marten was far from sure he wanted to be completely sober right now, he knew his present state was unacceptable. He nodded, then grimaced as the motion set the world around him spinning merrily again. “Yeah,” he managed, “I’d appreciate that.” Or something that came close enough, at least.
Jaryd channelled, and the cold shock of Healing washed away the fog of inebriation, leaving behind a world in razor-sharp focus, a foul taste in his mouth, and red-hot embarrassment that he’d been too drunk to properly feel until now. Pulling the Void tight around himself helped a little; even now his composure felt fragile at best but at least he didn’t feel like he might randomly pass out or dissolve into tears again. That had to be an improvement.
An awkward moment passed until he remembered he was supposed to return the favour. Yes, right. He seized saidin and reached his free hand towards Jaryd, trying to pretend he didn’t notice its shaking. His ability for Healing was decidedly average, but average was more than enough for this; he channelled, and though he couldn’t say Jaryd had looked drunk before, not by normal people standards anyway, the effect was noticeable. Marten withdrew his hand and shifted awkwardly on his feet, eyes flickering to the cup he was still holding in his hand, to the mouth of the alley behind Jaryd, to the partly overcast sky, before returning to the other Red.
“Jaren’s going to murder me in my sleep if he ever hears of this,” he muttered in a bleak attempt at humour. Then again, maybe he wasn’t joking; after all, Jaren had punched him before, for less dramatic reasons. He wondered if Jaryd knew about that. “…Anyway, I guess we have some cleaning up to do,” he added, straightening his posture. They could only leave the room upstairs Warded for so long.
Jaryd channelled, and the cold shock of Healing washed away the fog of inebriation, leaving behind a world in razor-sharp focus, a foul taste in his mouth, and red-hot embarrassment that he’d been too drunk to properly feel until now. Pulling the Void tight around himself helped a little; even now his composure felt fragile at best but at least he didn’t feel like he might randomly pass out or dissolve into tears again. That had to be an improvement.
An awkward moment passed until he remembered he was supposed to return the favour. Yes, right. He seized saidin and reached his free hand towards Jaryd, trying to pretend he didn’t notice its shaking. His ability for Healing was decidedly average, but average was more than enough for this; he channelled, and though he couldn’t say Jaryd had looked drunk before, not by normal people standards anyway, the effect was noticeable. Marten withdrew his hand and shifted awkwardly on his feet, eyes flickering to the cup he was still holding in his hand, to the mouth of the alley behind Jaryd, to the partly overcast sky, before returning to the other Red.
“Jaren’s going to murder me in my sleep if he ever hears of this,” he muttered in a bleak attempt at humour. Then again, maybe he wasn’t joking; after all, Jaren had punched him before, for less dramatic reasons. He wondered if Jaryd knew about that. “…Anyway, I guess we have some cleaning up to do,” he added, straightening his posture. They could only leave the room upstairs Warded for so long.