{Chained to Run} --ArcxMuffin Blitz--

I've Been Sleepless at Night

The weight causes the bench to shift ever so slightly while a limber hand quickly moves away the coffee mug, and Mohs glances at his newest companion- he's seen him around, but he's never been on one of his rosters. One of those meaty kids who thought they could get far with the strength of their blade alone, he suspects judging by those pulsating biceps.

"Are you alright? that looks painful." he murmurs quietly, his fingers falling to the kid's wrist, rough fingertips lightly grazing his skin. Half-expecting the Career to rip his hand away, he moves quickly. Crimson palms greet his eyes, and Mohs cringes slightly- they've got him working on rope then. Fuck he hated working the knot-tying and wall-scaling.

His left hand flies to his pants pocket, and carefully he removes a small white, cylindrical tube, resembling chap stick. A thumb flicks the pale cap away, and he offers it to the male, with instructions- "Smear it on your hand and then rub it in with small circles. It'll stop the burning. It won't heal it right away, but it'll definitely stop the pain and make your hands a little more dry."

He's honestly surprised they gave the kid a break- or that he wanted to take one. It must have been a safety issue. The trainers probably thought he'd fall the full twenty feet. Though the center has training mats, Mohs recalls having to pop more than one shoulder, elbow, finger back into place because of slippery digits.

I've Been Sleepless at Night

He offers a rare smile, and leans back into the bench, his cane falling against his thigh. "No problem. I'm Pro-Mohs Aurum. I teach First Aid." Once upon a time he was a stickler for titles, but now he can physically see the difference between himself and the rest of the students. He doesn't need to flaunt 'Professor' everywhere anymore.

"Maybe you should step into my class sometime. You don't have to do exclusive weapons training." he says offhandedly, grimacing as one of the many students falls flat on his neck. Instead of rising and flying to the girl though, he remains sitting as she hauls herself up with help from her trainer. His hand rises instead, for the tube of burn relief, if Andrew so wished to give it back. "Even if you don't go into the games, First Aid training comes in handy in real life. One of my students saved a kid from choking a few years ago." His eyebrows lift as his head falls back, gazing overhead at the painfully bright, fluorescent lights.

He isn't one for conversation, and he's sure it's blatantly obvious, but ever since Se- He shakes his head to rid himself of the thought. He needs more coffee- though it's like sludge. Anything to keep his mind away from the life of a kid he couldn't save.

I've Been Sleepless at Night

Mohs doesn't know what else to say and instead turns slightly, looking the male up and down. He doesn't recall the face, but then again, unless they were troublemakers, he doesn't really remember any but his favorites. He's quiet- for a Career. Most of them are more than willing to flex at you across the room, but this boy- he's hardly said more than three sentences to Mohs, and it draws him slightly on edge. Septys was that way too, and he ended up sliding farther than any of his other students thus far.

The man is lucky- his parents never forced, never pushed. They were always supportive, even just after the accident. His mother whispered hushed words of encouragement while his father wordlessly escorted him to appointments and for the first week and a half of his work, the training center.

Mohs lets his hands fall back into his lap, saying nothing, instead, staring absentmindedly down into his cup while another hand gently rubs his thigh at the crease where limb and plastic meet. He could really use another cup of coffee.

I've Been Sleepless at Night

Mohs snorts, the grin resonating all the way back to his ears. "Wow, I actually haven't heard that one before. Yeah, I think I need more coffee but it's all the way in the damn staff room and my leg is bothering the piss out of me." He braces himself and seizes the cane, carefully rising to his full stance. "I had a runner get it for me last time and let me tell you- twelve year olds do not make good coffee. Why don't you come with me and I'll make you make it, eh?"

He starts the long, arduous process, his foot nearly dragging on the ground as he moves. He's nineteen, but the way his joints and bones creak and ache, one would think him far, far older. Fuck snow, fuck rain, fuck weather in general. All of it is too much to handle, too sickening without the pills clutched in his pocket but they haven't yet kicked in and he can't take more, not yet, not unless he wants to fight an overdose.

Who will there be to heal the healer?

I've Been Sleepless at Night

He grins again, though it could be considered a grimace as he limps past sword fighting, beyond knot-tying, far away from hand to hand combat. Once upon a time many moons ago- something like that, that was the station he always wanted to man. The feeling of nothing but your own reflexes, your own body weight, it was absolutely exhilarating, but now he was lucky if he could make it out of bed without having to stop because his leg twinged.

Painfully slow they move, arriving at the emblazoned "Staff Only" door. He pushes it open halfheartedly, and slips inside, offering a glance back at Andrew. "I've only made coffee three times and it was for my mother, all when I was younger so I'll go ahead and test my memory of the practice."

"Hmn. You're starting to make me think we should hire some private baristas. Maybe if we bring another victor home-" he stops suddenly, the stiffness in his chest radiating through his body. He shivers, shuddering painfully as he stops and lifts his head. "Yeah, the coffee is over there." he gestures towards the beat up counter top, carefully easing himself onto a ripped couch.

I've Been Sleepless at Night

"Black, and strong. So that means use basically the entire scoop, please." He adjusts himself on the couch, lifting his false leg onto the arm, and collapsing back into the awful flower-patterned thing. "Make it a scoop and a half please." he adds as an after thought, lips pursed as he ponders and thinks quietly, adjusting his body to be more comfortable though he struggles.

A moment passes and he lifts his head to glare at a clock on the wall- twenty minutes left until the next class. He wants to groan but stays quiet, an elbow lifting across his eyes. "Anything you're struggling with training-wise? I was pretty good back in the day." An up and coming career with his life cut short by an axe.

He should have been brilliant, he should have gone in the games instead of the child who ended up taking his place, but instead, he cowardly let Septys go in his stead and now he's dead.

No, Kit's right- that isn't his fault.

He sits up, putting pressure against the offending limb, hugging it close to his chest as he watches Andrew make the coffee, eyes alight with curiosity. "Feel free to take some if you'd like."