[ When Claude looks at Caitlyn again, it's with wide eyes and puffed cheeks, eyes darting meaningfully between her and the ring on her finger, the look in his eyes accurately conveying the sentiment of: how dare you come in here with that on your finger and not to tell me everything about it. He'd give her a real earful about it (as well as a hearty handshake of congratulations), but more pressing matters take precedent, which is the fact that he's not so cruel to focus on an engagement over a clearly sick man.
A very, very sick man from the sounds of it. His frown only deepens to hear Viktor recount the matter. He knows enough about Cait and Vi's lives to put two and two together; the conditions that people like Vi lived underneath, the strife caused by the efforts to get out, no doubt inspired by the very condition that this poor fellow is in. ]
I see... [ His frown deepens, his gaze sympathetic. He can't dwell too long on the prospect of comforting a dying man. It's no doubt unwanted from a stranger, and he more than likely has to face such things from friends and family, should he have them. ] I'm very sorry to hear that. I'll do what I can, but you really ought to go to the Clinic and see an actual medical professional. The good doctor is a close friend of mine and will do everything in her power to find some relief for you.
[ Not a cure. Not even a promise of an extension of his diagnosis from weeks to months. He can't say such things, not with any certainty. But perhaps they can help make him more comfortable. ]
But seeing as you came all this way, I'll do for you what I can. Something for the pain, something else to help clear your lungs as much as possible, perhaps. But first...
[ He crouches in front of Viktor, one hand held aloft, not quite touching his chest, and he flicks his eyes upwards. ]
I'm in possession of healing magic. I'm no miracle worker, but it's enough to ease most people's pain, to clear up the worst of the symptoms, at least for the time being. May I?
no subject
A very, very sick man from the sounds of it. His frown only deepens to hear Viktor recount the matter. He knows enough about Cait and Vi's lives to put two and two together; the conditions that people like Vi lived underneath, the strife caused by the efforts to get out, no doubt inspired by the very condition that this poor fellow is in. ]
I see... [ His frown deepens, his gaze sympathetic. He can't dwell too long on the prospect of comforting a dying man. It's no doubt unwanted from a stranger, and he more than likely has to face such things from friends and family, should he have them. ] I'm very sorry to hear that. I'll do what I can, but you really ought to go to the Clinic and see an actual medical professional. The good doctor is a close friend of mine and will do everything in her power to find some relief for you.
[ Not a cure. Not even a promise of an extension of his diagnosis from weeks to months. He can't say such things, not with any certainty. But perhaps they can help make him more comfortable. ]
But seeing as you came all this way, I'll do for you what I can. Something for the pain, something else to help clear your lungs as much as possible, perhaps. But first...
[ He crouches in front of Viktor, one hand held aloft, not quite touching his chest, and he flicks his eyes upwards. ]
I'm in possession of healing magic. I'm no miracle worker, but it's enough to ease most people's pain, to clear up the worst of the symptoms, at least for the time being. May I?