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[but_civilization]

[Here is a very squinty look as Combeferre looks out, er... tries to look out at the network, anyway.]


It having been a long several weeks, this may not be the best of times to ask some medically related questions, but I have been getting my headaches...migraines, you call them, in the future, with more frequency since my spectacles were, ah, destroyed in the corridors a while ago by what I think was meant to be a ghost of my...

[What exactly IS Marius to him, right now? Combeferre had never liked the man so much as he had been completely baffled by him, a bafflement that had lead to his giving Marius a cooler reception than he probably deserved, and he had wanted to like the man for a while, even here. That was, up until Eponine, and, while he will not say that Marius should have returned Eponine's love (particularly as that would leave him minus a girlfriend), he does believe that the younger man still ought to be worked harder to be kind to her, and he certainly was annoyed enough with ghost Marius to attack him, anyway. And then, he'd been just plain angry, and, well, it is a complicated situation, he supposes.]

Well, a ghost from my past, I think it suffices to say, and that has really nothing to do with my question. I've been having problems without my spectacles of any rate, and I have been wondering about...is there some way to create a new pair here, or to do the laser procedure I've found mentioned in some of the medical books I have been looking over, lately?

There IS still the method of waiting and seeing if a jump is kind to me, but if it cannot happen, I would be curious if there is anything else that might help me as well.

Comments

[but_civilization]

[Oh that he is. Sooner or later, you'll end up being stuck discussing frenuli and antennae and god knows all else, Bahorel. Be afraid.]

I should certainly hope for them to prevent that instead.

[And then he's sticking his tongue out, because Bahorel, you're a rude little troll. Who is supposed to be the adult here. Somehow.]

Should it be managed successfully, my sight may prove much better than yours. Old age, after all, must sneak into things somewhere, and when the eyes start going, it is quite the sign of aging.

[So, there.]

[daringwaistcoats]

[He'll just. Steer clear. That sounds like a valid plan.

Grinning rakishly at that tongue; B does so love being able to draw out the childishness out of even the most mature of his friends!]

To say that you have always been my senior, what with your faulty sight! Though that tongue there certainly does quite a bit to remind me of your age quite clearly, yes, yes, of course.

[Nodding knowingly, as though it cleared up everything; nevertheless, his expression would still break out into a bit of a smirk before he'd even finished punctuating that statement, regardless.]

As such, go, then, M'sieur, that make shake your fist at my blurry visage and presume me a hooligan as I run about you in circles, unaided by spectacles or by cane! I shall be back in time for supper, I promise it.

[but_civilization]

[And Combeferre, when pressed, can quite enjoy letting loose with the occasional childish thing. Or, well, he's learnt that here, among his friends, he can be as much of an idiot as he was with his medical student friends and actually get away with it.]

Perhaps it is, instead, overuse you see on it, my friend. It has had quite the time of it lately.

[And there's a snicker, even as Combeferre is trying to tighten his lips into a line.]

Shall I chase you out of libraries after demanding complete silence, then? You might run, I suppose, but eventually, I, or a descendant, perhaps, will be too pleased to find and dispatch you.

[daringwaistcoats]

Oh? The mademoiselle keeps you so steadfastly employed, does she?

[Waggling his brow, that it had only been a couple months since Combeferre's and Eponine's public announcement of their love, after all.]

I shall gladly take that risk.

[but_civilization]

I should certainly imagine so.

[In turn, there is an eyebrow waggle back at him.]

They seem to be rather more forward about this sort of thing now, do they not?

[daringwaistcoats]

[Bahorel chuckled, slightly surprised by Combeferre's more straightforward confession, that there was no tinge of rouge to his cheeks at such a statement.]

To say you have come quite a ways to being quite forward yourself! That two years aboard this ship would make a vulgarer man of you, Combeferre; I could not have predicted it in a lifetime!

[but_civilization]

[Comebferre had to laugh, himself, at the idea that he was not the sort of person. At home, well, he had been more reserved, but there were thoughts that had managed to make their way through his brain.

Late night study sessions with other medical students, conducting experiments with the polytechniciens, and a whole number of other things mean he's heard a lot, and shared some. In a place more relaxed than home, well, the things he's learned are coming to the forefront, mostly.]

I suppose I may have, a bit. But I am not so much vulgarer as I am... Not so inclined to silence anymore, perhaps. When in Rome, my friend. When in Rome.

[daringwaistcoats]

Fair enough!

Well, I shall leave you to your search for a replacement for your spectacles, that I wish you the best of luck, my friend. If a procedure renders you blinder than you are now, perhaps we might see that as a blessing instead.

[but_civilization]

[There is a grin at that proclamation, followed by a slightly puzzled look.]

Oh? And how, precisely, would that be a blessing, praytell? You would not allow our dear poet to dress me from then on for your enjoyment, would you?

[Nonetheless.]

One must protect their interests after all. In any case, it's been good to speak with you. Hopefully I manage it again before I've reached some point or other of no real return.