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Step, ow, step, ow, step ow...

Everything still ached following the Wembley-induced spill Gobo had taken down the steps around the hill at Fraggle Home. Sure, Boober - once he'd taken over - was great with healing, but the fall had only happened a couple of days ago - that was the day he'd originally been intending to see Chris, too. Better late than never...?

Once he'd made it down the hall in the apartment building, he raised his right hand to knock on the door, sighed as he realized he couldn't do that right now, and then gingerly knocked with his left hand instead.

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Ahh, the Fraggle Knock. Never quite knew when it was coming, but it was welcome nevertheless. Polishing off the rest of his sandwich, Chris brushed the crumbs off his hands and got up, heading toward the door- he paused, tilted his head and flared his nostrils a bit. That... was a weird scent...

So, he wasn't all that surprised when he opened the door to find an injured Fraggle, though the severity of it caught him a little off-guard. WHO it was didn't, but...

"Gobo!" He stepped aside, letting him in. "What the hell happened?"

Gobo trudged inside, then glanced up at Chris with a deep sigh- Bad idea. Ow, his ribs... He probably did look a total mess, though- the black eye, the bandages on his head, arm, and leg... and finger... and tail... And of course, the two braces on his right wrist and left knee. It would be hard to explain all that, were it not for the fact that Chris knew the cause of all of this quite well.

"Wembley."

Edited 2020-02-23 10:39 (UTC)

Ooh, he saw that wince. Seemed there were more injuries beyond just what he saw.

"Ah. Well here, sit down, make yourself comfortable. If you can."

Chris walked over with him and, though he was concerned for his friend, he couldn't quite help the snark.

"So what'd you two do, anyway? Fall off the bed?"

Gobo shot a glare at Chris, one that absolutely said 'I'd punch you if it wouldn't hurt me.' But it would hurt him, so Chris got away with just the glare.

"No," he huffed, trying to climb up onto the sofa. He was having quite a bit of difficulty, though, and after a moment, he looked to Chris once more. "Help?"

"Yeah sure, you got it." Chris seemed rather amused as he bent down, and after a moment of uncertainty- didn't want to grab him where he'd only hurt him more -he grabbed the back of Gobo's vest and shirt in a bundled fist and lifted him up into the air. Turning him around, he gingerly set him down in a sitting position on the couch.

"Better?"

"Mmhm. Thanks, Chris," Gobo said, the heaviness of his tone starting to ease up. He leaned back against the cushions, finding a little comfort from the soft surface, at least. "I hope you've been having a better time than me."

"I think everyone has been having a better time than you." Chris headed toward the kitchen and rattled around for a moment, then came back with a frozen gelpack, handing it over to Gobo to put wherever he wanted.

"So what did happen? 'Wembley' explains it but it doesn't quite cover it."

Gobo chuckled a little as he thanked Chris for the ice pack, which he placed on his braced knee.

"Well, you know, Wembley can't really go down stairs without falling. We were heading back home, and he tripped like usual... But this time, he took me with him."

"And landed on you, by the look of you. Either that or based on your injuries, Wembley is in traction somewhere."

He sat down beside him on the couch, turning and resting his folded arm on the back so he could face him. "I'm guessing those stairs don't have a railing?"

"No, he landed on me- Wembley only had to deal with a skinned knee and a couple of scratches." He paused, then realized how that must sound and looked up quickly. "I'm glad he's not more hurt, I just wish I were less hurt," he pointed out.

"And no, we don't have a railing. Boober thinks we need one, too, and I agree, but I sure can't put one up anytime soon."

He nodded a bit, thinking to himself Boober had probably been campaigning for that railing since the start, based on what he knew about him. Would be a much easier argument now, wouldn't it?

"If you need help, I'm more than happy to give it. A transformation or two on my end could get that railing up in a trice."

Gobo was ready to protest. Fraggle Home was his- their responsibility, and he would take care of this as soon as he could... But that same need to look out for the others also meant he didn't want anyone else getting hurt while he was healing.

"Yeah, Chris, thanks. That'd be great." He reached down to itch his right leg through the bandages, not that it did a whole lot of good. "Really, though. How're you doing?"

Chris casually reached down and plucked Gobo's hand up by the sleeve, putting it away from his bandages, without looking away from him. Don't do that.

"I've been alright. Work's been a bit of a drag lately, but what else is new?" He snickered softly, shrugging a bit. "Mokey came by a few days ago, showed me a new painting she'd done. Maybe you know it? 'Flower Fields Over Pond,' though it looked a little more like she was trying splatter-paint style." Another soft snort. "In a good way, of course."

Gobo snorted as his hand was redirected, but with a smile. "I already have Boober for that kind of thing, you know," he joked.

At the mention of Mokey - and her painting - Gobo's smile grew. "Yeah, she was experimenting with something different there, she said. It's a pretty one." Honestly, Gobo didn't know anything substantial about artistic sensibilities. He could draw and paint very well, but that was usually more to get an idea across in the straightforward sense. The stuff about style and all that? That was beyond him. But he enjoyed Mokey's art, he really did - some of that may have been bias, but...

"I know you do, but Boober's not here."

He snickered some, then gave him a smile. "Mokey must've been pretty in her element then, experimenting with new art. Might get more of that, she borrowed a few books from me while she was here. Mostly about painting but, not all of 'em."

"Yeah?" Gobo asked, looking back up at Chris with a lopsided grin. "Uh, Mokey really loves to do new things with art. It's one of the things that makes her the most happy. I don't really understand what she does, not the way she understands it... But you can really tell she had a passion for it, eh? And I like that."

"Yeah, passion is definitely what I would call it, and that's something I know a lot about." At a sly smirk from Gobo he laughed, teasingly flicking the end of the Fraggle's snout. "In general, smartypants."

Chris sat back and waved toward his large bookshelf, smiling as he folded one leg over the other. "I've got books, papers, studies, and whatever else on a lot of subjects. But of course, animals and magic are my personal passions. It's nice to have something like that in your life, subjects or activities you just go whole hog on, dedicate yourself to. It's enrichening."

Gobo snickered and nodded. "Aw, sure! You know that's me with exploring, after all," he pointed out, as he removed the gelpack from his knee - that was starting to get too cold. "Red has her competitions, and Boober has laundry and cooking, and Wembley really likes imagining things, ever since Red helped him figure that all out... Although, even more than that, Wembley really likes making friends, and getting closer to the people he already knows."

"I've noticed that about Wembley. He was the second one of y'all I met, after all." Chris laughed gently and leaned back some, smiling. "See, but the neat thing is, look at how varied all of that is, right? It's amazing, how different people can find such different things that'll make them happy! Even when there's overlap, like you and me and exploring, or Mokey and my brother and art."

"That's true!" Gobo agreed, and his tail twitched in a way that suggested it wanted to be wagging up behind him, but didn't have the ability just now. "There are some things that connect all of us, sure, but there's also a lot that's different about most of us."

"There sure is!" He blinked, then smiled and pushed up from the couch, walking out toward the middle of the floor some.

"Which reminds me, I wanted to try something next time one of you Fraggles came by, if you're willing to help me with a little magic experiment? You don't have to get up, so don't worry about shifting those old, aching bones."

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