23rd of Achtus, 2718
Memories haunted Vivian like specters in the moonlight.
Every night, she was kept up by the memory of crashing into the wall, the momentary flicker of pain that ended in devastation. It was meant to happen to her... Everything she laid out, her plan for the future was intended to be laughed at by the twisted hands of providence. And yet, her knight had saved her. Vivian Rush suffered for her salvation, but it was nothing compared to the sight of her prone brother twitching, his blood flowing from his skull as a sanguine font that dyed the snow crimson. Always, she shuddered at the thought of it, thinking nothing of the earsplitting screech in her tones, of the calls for help that came after. Vivian didn't know how they'd picked her brother off the floor, or the nature of the Living spells that stabilized him even in the midst of grievous injury.
This one had been no different, and even several weeks after the inury, Vivian's eyes were shaded with dark circles and her mounting workload piled higher and higher as she took an extended leave. Coraline Rush, her mother, took no such leave, leaving it to her daughter as soon as the diagnosis arrived that such traumatic brain injuries could cause the Rush heir to be unable to cast. It was Vivian's burden to bear, to see to her brother's convalescence however she could. Vivian was no healer, no practitioner of Living conversation, but she could insist on his expedited treatment. She'd insist that no one forgot about Lucian Rush, even if she needed to sleep in the hospital and knock on office doors every day until he was able to leave with her.
At least, that's what she'd planned to do. Vivian didn't expect for the treatment to be so easily wrought. They'd treated the wounds, but... there wasn't much else for them to do. Even Vivian, who extensively studied the human brain, didn't really know all that much about it. There was the anatomy of it that she understood. She understood it when she was told by the medics that there might be lingering damage to the arcuate fasciculus. Or the cerebellum. She'd thought it odd that they didn't mention the Broca's area, but it neither her place nor her expertise to argue with the medics as they served their diagnosis. Instead, Vivian languished within the hospital, rubbing her temples with her good hand while the other arm languished within its splint. She was nearly recovered from her, in retrospect, minor injuries, but she was due for one final checkup for herself.
The younger of the Rush twins waited for the doctor that'd oversee her, if only to badger them with more and more questions about Lucian. She felt mania overcome her, a vivid obsession with learning more, knowing more. She didn't just want Lucian to get better, she needed him to stand with her, laugh with her... A world without her precious other half was a world that grew darker and colder with every passing breath. Already, she felt the resentment pile within her, the anger that lashed out unceremoniously. First, she'd bullied a hospital intern for her due time with the doctors. Then, she'd struck a passive within Brunnhold when they'd mouthed off just a little bit to her. Vivian Rush couldn't know where this anger would take her next, but for the moment, she held it at bay as she awaited the galdor that'd enlighten her further.
My injuries are treated and yet it is Lucian that finds difficulty getting his due time with the doctors? Is he merely sitting in bed? Is he walking around? What is going on?! I've been left in the dark for days and all I can do is sit here and WAIT?!
The woman's field was uncontrolled, festering rage and inconsolable sadness mingling into one cocktail of venomous emotion. Her features were schooled into practised neutrality even as she sought again and again with little success to control the monic presence about her. Her dark-rimmed eyes showed her fatigue, her tremors and twitches belied her frustration. Vivian Rush, for the first time in her life, was a mess. With trembling hands, she sifted through her purse in an effort to find half of the chocolate bar she'd purchased earlier that day. She'd hoped it'd bring her some semblance of joy, but as it melted on her tongue, it tasted acrid and sour, a mirror of the agony that poisoned her heart.
For the first time, Vivian Rush didn't know what to do.
And it killed her as she sat atop a hospital bed, waiting anxiously for an unnecessary visit.
Every night, she was kept up by the memory of crashing into the wall, the momentary flicker of pain that ended in devastation. It was meant to happen to her... Everything she laid out, her plan for the future was intended to be laughed at by the twisted hands of providence. And yet, her knight had saved her. Vivian Rush suffered for her salvation, but it was nothing compared to the sight of her prone brother twitching, his blood flowing from his skull as a sanguine font that dyed the snow crimson. Always, she shuddered at the thought of it, thinking nothing of the earsplitting screech in her tones, of the calls for help that came after. Vivian didn't know how they'd picked her brother off the floor, or the nature of the Living spells that stabilized him even in the midst of grievous injury.
This one had been no different, and even several weeks after the inury, Vivian's eyes were shaded with dark circles and her mounting workload piled higher and higher as she took an extended leave. Coraline Rush, her mother, took no such leave, leaving it to her daughter as soon as the diagnosis arrived that such traumatic brain injuries could cause the Rush heir to be unable to cast. It was Vivian's burden to bear, to see to her brother's convalescence however she could. Vivian was no healer, no practitioner of Living conversation, but she could insist on his expedited treatment. She'd insist that no one forgot about Lucian Rush, even if she needed to sleep in the hospital and knock on office doors every day until he was able to leave with her.
At least, that's what she'd planned to do. Vivian didn't expect for the treatment to be so easily wrought. They'd treated the wounds, but... there wasn't much else for them to do. Even Vivian, who extensively studied the human brain, didn't really know all that much about it. There was the anatomy of it that she understood. She understood it when she was told by the medics that there might be lingering damage to the arcuate fasciculus. Or the cerebellum. She'd thought it odd that they didn't mention the Broca's area, but it neither her place nor her expertise to argue with the medics as they served their diagnosis. Instead, Vivian languished within the hospital, rubbing her temples with her good hand while the other arm languished within its splint. She was nearly recovered from her, in retrospect, minor injuries, but she was due for one final checkup for herself.
The younger of the Rush twins waited for the doctor that'd oversee her, if only to badger them with more and more questions about Lucian. She felt mania overcome her, a vivid obsession with learning more, knowing more. She didn't just want Lucian to get better, she needed him to stand with her, laugh with her... A world without her precious other half was a world that grew darker and colder with every passing breath. Already, she felt the resentment pile within her, the anger that lashed out unceremoniously. First, she'd bullied a hospital intern for her due time with the doctors. Then, she'd struck a passive within Brunnhold when they'd mouthed off just a little bit to her. Vivian Rush couldn't know where this anger would take her next, but for the moment, she held it at bay as she awaited the galdor that'd enlighten her further.
My injuries are treated and yet it is Lucian that finds difficulty getting his due time with the doctors? Is he merely sitting in bed? Is he walking around? What is going on?! I've been left in the dark for days and all I can do is sit here and WAIT?!
The woman's field was uncontrolled, festering rage and inconsolable sadness mingling into one cocktail of venomous emotion. Her features were schooled into practised neutrality even as she sought again and again with little success to control the monic presence about her. Her dark-rimmed eyes showed her fatigue, her tremors and twitches belied her frustration. Vivian Rush, for the first time in her life, was a mess. With trembling hands, she sifted through her purse in an effort to find half of the chocolate bar she'd purchased earlier that day. She'd hoped it'd bring her some semblance of joy, but as it melted on her tongue, it tasted acrid and sour, a mirror of the agony that poisoned her heart.
For the first time, Vivian Rush didn't know what to do.
And it killed her as she sat atop a hospital bed, waiting anxiously for an unnecessary visit.
