Alastor was talented with controlling his expressions, even those of pain - but this was horrid. The injury had hurt when he'd received it, but he'd had the strength to speak and sing without waver.
The feeling of the blessing being pulled out of him made Alastor realize how much the damned energy had taken root. It felt like his nerves were grabbed by the handful and pulled out like a clot of string, and the last rational thing he could manage was to drop his hands to the arms of the chair so his claws slashed through fabric instead of the man helping him. White hot agony, so intense it stole his breath and his voice, stole his sight and hearing - all for that split second before relief.
It still hurt. But the drop in intensity made the open gash feel almost breezy instead, light like he'd had a lead weight stuck in his sternum. Alastor slacked against the back of his chair, his breath finally escaping in a faintly groaning exhale. His body, his magic, all were thrumming - he could sense it now, that the injury was already hastily healing itself, free of its heavenly burden.
Certainly... he'd have to find a way to thank Lucifer, in a way. Give him a moment - he'll harass the man to make sure he wasn't still harboring any lingering effects of the injury. He never asked for Lucifer to suffer in his place, damn him.
no subject
The feeling of the blessing being pulled out of him made Alastor realize how much the damned energy had taken root. It felt like his nerves were grabbed by the handful and pulled out like a clot of string, and the last rational thing he could manage was to drop his hands to the arms of the chair so his claws slashed through fabric instead of the man helping him. White hot agony, so intense it stole his breath and his voice, stole his sight and hearing - all for that split second before relief.
It still hurt. But the drop in intensity made the open gash feel almost breezy instead, light like he'd had a lead weight stuck in his sternum. Alastor slacked against the back of his chair, his breath finally escaping in a faintly groaning exhale. His body, his magic, all were thrumming - he could sense it now, that the injury was already hastily healing itself, free of its heavenly burden.
Certainly... he'd have to find a way to thank Lucifer, in a way. Give him a moment - he'll harass the man to make sure he wasn't still harboring any lingering effects of the injury. He never asked for Lucifer to suffer in his place, damn him.