MY DEAR ; weekly task, check-ups

[Thomas]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]His head was spinning.

Thomas had woken up well after noon, and he was certain his head was going to explode. Hundreds of glass bottles and plastic cups littered his home. Chips and other snacks were spilled here and there. Furniture had been turned over. Despite every fiber of his being screaming to return to sleep, he rose from the couch he had fallen asleep on. Noticing the complete disarray of his home, he began cleaning. Right before he finished, he found a slumbering peer, crashed in the bathtub. After sending the hungover man out the door with a glass of water and a pat on the back, he finished up.

The sun was bright and oppressive as he made his way towards the docks. The sun was also hell on the headache he was suffering through, but he was at least glad he no longer smelled of alcohol. The party he had thrown was now but a distant memory to Thomas - outwardly at least. He remembered everything that had happened. Shifting the backpack he was carrying to his right shoulder, he shook his head. Why had he called Amren his mother?

The lionhearted man let the memories roll in his mind as he placed his bag on a crate. He began to unpack, taking out various medical supplies: bandages, disinfectant, painkillers. Per Cain's request, he had also brought along as much food that would fit in his bag. Chips, cookies, granola bars, fruits, and sandwiches were stacked to the side as he finished taking out the healing items. Once finished, he called out, "For any new children from Griffingate, my name is Thomas, and if you are in need of medical attention, please head for the docks! At the same time, if you are from Blackfall and are in need of medical attention, please make your way over as well." He waited a beat, watching as new and old faces gathered around. "I have also gathered food in case anyone is hungry."

[Amren]

[color=#414a4c]✷ ✷ ✷

Ah yes, Thomas' party had certainly been something.

While most of it was now a blur to the petite woman, she did recall one very fascinating detail: the prince with the royal stick up his ass had repeatedly called her 'mom'. Now she was no stranger to Cain's idea of them being one big, reckless family of misfits, but to think that she had been established as their matriarch... well, it made her nauseous. If anything, she felt as if she was trapped in a frat house- that poor mother coerced into doing all the laundry and making sure the boys behaved. She was ancient fire, all rage and fury. She was not their mother. Not willingly anyways.

Maybe a more sober Thomas understood that. If he didn't, she supposed that a little conversation between him and her hungry flames would sort out the matter very quickly. [b][color=#414a4c]"Boy," She supplied lazily as she approached him, not making any attempt to hide her bandaged midsection with her choice of a crop top and, you guessed it, black yoga pants. It was typical Amren attire and she was absolutely dedicated to comfort. [color=#414a4c]"If you're suddenly a knowledgeable doctor, perhaps you might as well take a glance at this pretty nasty scratch I picked up when we visited Griffingate. Some girl thought it would be fun to aim her arrows at me," She grumbled. The wound stung when she slept on it and if she moved a particular way, possibly because she had really only slapped a bandage on it and called it a day. Amren was no medical professional nor did she exactly care much about injuries and healing and the whatnot. That was where Thomas came in she supposed.