[First Aid Potion? Sign Kadoc up. At this point, he's fully embraced the need to stock up on any material magical advantage he can, considering the limitations of the magic this place has gifted him with; he likes Light magic fine, but it's not going to perform any first aid for him, and he knows better than to think he'll never need that going forward.
So when he saw the first poster he happened upon, he'd stopped to make a note on his phone of where to meet the healer selling them. That might have been that for a time—but as he'd gone about his day, he'd eventually spotted the girl hanging up another poster on another board, tipping him off to her identity, which he hadn't recognized from the ad.
It's that girl!
Oh geez. Oh shit. It's the girl from the party, when he'd been under that mask effect . . . he wants this potion so badly, but the idea of approaching her makes him shrivel inside with embarrassment. She thinks he's some! Some dancing guy! Some Charleston kind of motherfucker. . . . This is just leading him to weirdly watch her from afar, which isn't ideal either . . .
Ugh. Well, Azul hadn't remembered (or claimed to have not remembered) the party in question, after the trauma of his own mask effect. The only thing Kadoc can do, short of going home and putting on a mask and hoodie or something to disguise his identity, is hope that this woman's own memories are hazy enough that she won't be disappointed by the reality of the guy she'd danced with.
So he approaches at last, after being weird about it for a bit, looking much more collected than he feels:]
Don't Die
So when he saw the first poster he happened upon, he'd stopped to make a note on his phone of where to meet the healer selling them. That might have been that for a time—but as he'd gone about his day, he'd eventually spotted the girl hanging up another poster on another board, tipping him off to her identity, which he hadn't recognized from the ad.
It's that girl!
Oh geez. Oh shit. It's the girl from the party, when he'd been under that mask effect . . . he wants this potion so badly, but the idea of approaching her makes him shrivel inside with embarrassment. She thinks he's some! Some dancing guy! Some Charleston kind of motherfucker. . . . This is just leading him to weirdly watch her from afar, which isn't ideal either . . .
Ugh. Well, Azul hadn't remembered (or claimed to have not remembered) the party in question, after the trauma of his own mask effect. The only thing Kadoc can do, short of going home and putting on a mask and hoodie or something to disguise his identity, is hope that this woman's own memories are hazy enough that she won't be disappointed by the reality of the guy she'd danced with.
So he approaches at last, after being weird about it for a bit, looking much more collected than he feels:]
. . . Hey. These signs are yours?