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 No Pain, No Gain

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Gabriel Hall
Hogwarts Professor
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Posts : 593
Join date : 2011-04-27
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Name: Gage Hall
Blood Rank: Muggle-born
Career: [H] Potions Professor

PostSubject: No Pain, No Gain   Sun Mar 18, 2012 10:38 am

* Eden Infirmary *

“For Merlin’s sake – hold still!” the nurse hissed at Azrael as he fidgeted for perhaps the tenth time in the span of five minutes. She swatted his bare shoulder before once again attempting to cleanse the nasty gash in his left side.

Azrael had recently returned from a trip that benefitted both Lord Corvus and Azrael’s own private business endeavors. However, much like the incident of four years ago, the wizard hadn’t come out of it by any means of the phrase “in one piece”. He had arrived on Eden’s doorstep as a bloody, broken, partially-splinched mess. Heavy lacerations from head to toe on his left, a broken right leg, and a splinched left forearm demonstrated the lengths he had gone to in order to succeed.

A Healer repaired his splinching in a minute flat. Azrael voluntarily watched the entire procedure with fascination, albeit with a dose of pain potion in him. His broken leg was tended to next, and although healed in a snap Azrael would need a few days of bed rest to recover. All that was left now were the gashes. The wizard wasn’t even at the infirmary a whole twelve hours yet and already he was fidgety and bored.

He stretched forward for his trousers, which had been tossed into a nearby chair. The wizard removed a cigarette from the pack concealed in one of the rear pockets. It had black paper and a crimson filter. Azrael had no more than put the object in his mouth and was mere seconds from lighting it when the nurse snatched it out of his hands. “No smoking!” she scolded, tossed the cigarette into a wastebasket, and then continued to mutter to herself about the frustration of trying to find Azrael’s pulse.

The wizard huffed loudly and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “It’s gonna be a long day...” he growled under his breath.

* * * * *

* Midnight – Eden Courtyard *

Azrael hobbled along the path, favoring his formerly-broken leg as much as possible. Agony was sure to follow if even more than an ounce of weight was placed upon it. Apparently the potions and spells hadn’t quite convinced his brain that he was healed. A day in the hospital wing of Eden was more than enough to get the wizard stir-crazy with want for freedom. It was after Merlin-only-knew how many hours of being in the care of nurses and healers that Azrael began plotting a way out. They had drugged him to sleep for a good portion of those hours, and now he was wide awake and ready to raise hell!

Well... maybe not so much, what with still not being able to walk properly. A hobble was better than nothing at least, and he would get nowhere by simply waiting for Healers to discharge him. By now Corvus was likely well aware that Azrael was in a state of convalescence, and not to mention the hour was late, so the wizard wasn’t about to prove otherwise and risk waking the declared Dark Lord. It was best to just let sleeping dogs, dragons, manticores, and Dark Lords lie.

Spotting a stone bench a little ways off the beaten path, Azrael immediately went for it. Hopefully the healers wouldn’t dare to think to look for him out here. The weather was nice and the moon, though not quite full, shone brightly against the darkness of night. An open window did not at all compare to the current sensation that Azrael felt.

With a grunt of the wizard hauled his bad leg onto the bench, and then slowly eased himself into the seat. He removed the sling from his splinched arm, and transfigured it into a light blanket. “Ah, yes,” Azrael murmured, shifting until he was comfortable. “This beats a damn hospital bed any day!” He retrieved his pack of cigarettes, pulled one out with his lips, and glanced around the immediate area. A smirk twisted his features at seeing no one around, and without further ado he lit the cigarette and took a long drag.

“Definitely more like it...” Azrael remarked, though knew he was not likely speaking to anyone other than himself. He wondered just how long it would take for the healers and nurses to realize he was gone, and laughed at the mental imagery his mind had conjured of the scene.

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