She sat and stared at the form of her brother-at-heart for a long moment, weighing the options. She finally licked her lips and looked to the healer.
"The poisons…have been diluted, from what the doctors tell me. It’s been three days and they’ve been flushing his system to remove them as much as possible. And he’s going to need that ring again. So…please….this soul forge sounds like the best option. How long do you think it might take for you to adjust it for him?"
Sigyn nodded once and slipped the ring off of Agent Lennormand’s finger and held it out for Hazel to take for safe keeping. The ring was a bad idea. It was very possible that the magic could interfere with how the body naturally heals its self. But she would refrain from saying anything. She wanted to get her work done as soon as she could, Loki’s magic was almost suffocating.
"Not long," She said after a moment. She pressed the tips of her fingers together for a moment and then pulled them away, a shimmering golden light expanding as the gap between her hands grew larger. It settled after a moment, hovering over Agent Lennormand. In the Soul Forge, an outline of his body began to take shape, and different lines and words written in Vanir began to appear. Sigyn narrowed her eyes at them, a moment and stuck her hands into the Forge. She began inputting new information until the words and lines changed, finally recognizing that the body it was scanning was Midgardian. Now with the Soul Forge to assist her, Sigyn set to work in healing.
Jean’s mind was at peace. No more remembrances and nightmares, thanks to the intervention of a god like creature who looked strangely like Zingari. Shortly after that incident Jean had decided to stop trying to understand this dream world he was in. He was sat on a kitchen chair, waiting.
In front of him there was a wall of fire. It was warm. Sometimes, a friendly voice was coming out of it. Jean was not understanding the voice but he was feeling sorry for her. Her voice was worried and sad. He didn’t want that. He was not in pain, everything was fine, he could stay there forever. From time to time, he reached out a hand toward the flames but each time they grew stronger. He knew he would be in pain if he tried to go through, so he stayed there, looking at the ring glowing at his hand.
Behind him there was a wall of ice. It was dreadful, cold, and silent. Jean was trying not to think about that wall. It wasn’t an option. He knew he wouldn’t feel pain if he went through that wall. He knew he wouldn’t feel anything at all, not even the cold. He refused oblivion and anyway the ring wouldn’t let him go through that wall.
His situation was strangely not boring. It was nothing, not pain, not joy, just limbo. He was safe and protected here. He vaguely remembered to have seek for more important things but he didn’t remembered why or what. He was just feeling sorry for the voice.
As he reached out his hand again he saw the ring fading from his finger. He jumped of surprise and stood while the chair disappeared. The walls started to get closer and closer. The cold was gaining on him and no comfort was coming from the fire just burning pain. He was surrounded. He had nowhere to hide.
He was naked, helpless, alone, between fire and ice. Now he remembered. He just wanted to live. It’s all he wanted. Even if it meant suffering.
Then the ice and fire engulfed him.
//I finally found the video of the Monuments Men on French TV.
//I’ve bought new colored pencil. One is silver and another one is gold, so I decided to experiment with those colors and with the most pale shades of blue. Then in the middle of the week a conversation with my brother made me realize that I never offered one of my drawings to him. Now it is done. He liked it… I think
"oh…" There was a moment of confusion in his expression as he recall that they were indeed there to look to poetry, not for him to be the center of the attention, nor to satisfy his curiosity. He honestly looked at the performer’s graceful movements for a full 30 secs before getting bored. He wasn’t understanding anything anyway. The all place was strangely alien to him he wasn’t even sure how to ask for coffee. He turned back to Sterling. "By the way, as I said to you earlier I’ve always felt curious toward sign language but never to the point of actually learning it. I personally think it’s a flaw
especially right nowbut I wonder what pushed you” He smiled gallantly to Alice. “and you, to learn that language?”
"My mom is deaf." Alice said quickly, looking up at the stage with her friends. Apparently the friend they came to see was up next.
"My childhood best friend was learning because her grandfather was deaf. So we learned at the same time. Her parents taught us both. Her brother actually works here since he’s fluent as well. There are some hearing workers here but if you need anything let me know."
Parents and childhood friends, good reasons to learn indeed. Jean hadn’t been raised by people who would have found any interest in deaf people, well except if they had something worth stealing of course.
All right, he had to focus on something that will make him feel comfortable. “Actually, a black coffee would be great.” He grinned quickly looking around. “This is a new place for me I’m impatient to taste it.”