Davin Kavanagh

(trigger warnings: references to injuries. possible references to violence/homophobia in the comments.)

It's been nearly a week since the... attack, he guesses you would call it. Since he got his ass kicked, is more what he would say. But still, Davin has been cooped up in his apartment for five days and he's starting to go a little stir crazy. He has to get outside or he's going to lose it.

He has only taken a few of the painkillers that the doctor at the hospital prescribed, usually before bed so the pain subsides enough for him to sleep. Today he's feeling a bit better. Broken ribs are no picnic, but today he finds that he can move around relatively easily. It still hurts like a bitch, but it's not unbearable. The last of his potion helped a little, and he bets if he got another set of x-rays done the damage wouldn't be as bad. He pops an ibuprofen and half of a painkiller just to take the edge off before getting dressed and then heads outside. He slips his sunglasses onto his face, which doesn't really hide all the bruising, but covers the worst of it. All the swelling has gone down and his lip has healed, for which he's grateful. And at least no one can see what his chest looks like. It's covered in dark purple bruises which are just starting to turn yellow and brown at the edges.

The fresh, cool air and sunshine makes him feel better immediately, and he takes a deep breath. It hurts like hell, but the doctor had told him that it was important to do that occasionally. He sneaks around the back of the bakery before Maddy can scold him for being up and about. She's been bringing him meals every day, making sure he's alright, and Davin wishes very much that she was his mother. If his own mother knows what happened at all, it's because she heard it from someone else. And if she did, she hasn't called him. Neither has his father. Hell, he's not even sure his father would think he didn't deserve it.

A lot of people probably heard it from someone else. Siren Cove is a small town full of gossips and he knows that word of what happened has probably gotten around by now. He hasn't really seen anyone but his friends who came over to check on him, and he loves them, he really does. It kills him to not be at work, but he trusts Jason to hold down the fort. He'll have to schedule appointments in the future for extensive jobs that need Davin, and he's had to scale back how much work they take on, but he's handling it. Davin is planning on asking Jason to work for him full time, if he'd like.

Walking hurts, but it always feels good to be up and moving. He was so restless and he needs this, he knows he does. He has no real destination in mind, but he thinks that he might head for the water. It's cold outside, but sunny and bright, and he'd like to get in some good outdoors time before the weather goes to hell. Plus, the town is always done up so beautifully for Christmas, and he wants to get a good look at all the decorations.

A few people stare at him as he passes, and a few whisper to the people that they're with, but Davin doesn't let it bother him. What happened was bullshit, and really upsetting, but he's not going to let it destroy him.

Still, a familiar face to distract him from the looky-loos wouldn't go unappreciated.


[find davin anywhere around town! not a completely terrible time to meet him either, all things considered.]

After Lara leaves, Davin aches more than he did in her presence. Maybe whatever she was doing to him stopped working when she left, or maybe he was just distracted enough by her that his pain took a backseat. Either way, it's back now.

There's a small bit of healing potion left but he doesn't use it, not right away. He's still wary of his magic, still too familiar with how his power affected him when he was backed into a corner. He's not ready to go wielding it again, not yet.

He wants to crawl into bed and hide from the world and not think about anything, like about how he'll run the shop with half the staff and more business than ever, or how at some point he'll have to go scrub his own blood off of the floor of his office. He doesn't want to think about what he must have done to deserve this.

He's standing in the middle of his living room at kind of a loss, but he knows that he needs to make a call. He trusts Lara and her siren contact at the hospital to be discreet, but it's a small town full of big mouths. Word about what happened could be making its way around town by now.

The last thing he wants is for Mira to hear some telephone game version of events. It's funny that his first thought is to call Mira, and not his mother. She'd probably just ask him why he let him get his ass kicked. She's not going to soothe him, or mother him. She's never done that.

Davin clears his head of such thoughts and pulls out his phone, wincing as he jostles his broken finger. He pulls up his favorites and taps Mira's name, trying to figure out how to make his voice not sound like he's been gargling whiskey and broken glass by the time she answers.


[trigger warning: comments will likely include discussion of violence, injury, and homophobia]